Can I go home now?

Last night was HELL!!!

The madness started at 22:50 and carried over till 5:00 this morning. Three calls, back-to-back.

Finally to bed at 5:00, but had to be up at the station at Noon to train the rookies.

As Yoda would say, "Hmmmm... tired must you be, young Padawan."

The Day After...

Every child of the 80s remembers the TV mini-series "The Day After," which chroniciled life after a nuclear exchange between the the US and the USSR. Scary stuff indeed for those of us who went through puberty in the age of MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction).

And then there is the day after Xmas...

It's even worse.

God bless those poor, innocent.... and even retarded, souls that venture forth to the malls and to WM on this day.

Does anyone see a future Darwin Award recipient in the crowd?

Fall down, go boom!!!

Well, it has returned. The mysterious explosions reported by dozens, but with a cause no one can find. Those who've heard, and felt, the explosions describe it as rattling their windows, if not the whole house.

So the FD is dispatched and we run around like chickens with no heads. The worst is that these always occur very late at night, rousing me from my warm bed. I swear, if I ever find the culprit, the outcome will not be for the squeamish.

So what is the cause? No one is really sure. Sonic boom, maybe? Sparkler bomb? Who knows....

An ode to bier...

"He was a wise man who invented beer."
-Plato

"An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools."
-For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemmingway

The spelling in the title is intentional. I had the good fortune of purchasing a case of Leinenkugel's at the local Sam's. Now Leinie's are not generally available so far south, here in the "Land of Shiner," so to be able to find it and at a decent price was an incredible stroke of good fortune.

I've heard a lot of good things about Leinie's and the opinions were very well founded. This particular case was a sampler of four different kinds, the Sunset Wheat, Creamy Dark, Red, and Honey Weiss. All were very good.

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."
-Benjamin Franklin

I'll drink to that...

A day well spent...

It doesn't get much better than strolling through the mall, arm in arm with the one you love, or sitting down with them and eating truly wonderful sushi. Now I could have done without the crowds and the traffic, but all considered, it was more than a fair trade.

Sometimes we rush through life so quickly, we forget what it is truly important. It's times like those that we need to just stop and smell the coffee... and eat pumpkin cheesecake.

Sometimes a word is all it takes...

Today was not a good day. Semester exams always seem to bring out the worst in students and this time around was no different. Apathy run rampant is the modus operandi for these kids. They just don't care. Parents always seem to bail them out of the predicaments they get themselves into and teachers always seem to cave and give in... till now.

I hate playing the bad guy, but who else will prepare them for the "real" world?

Anyway, it's enough to drive one to drink. It's frustrating and depressing. Thankfully, someone let me know that I'm doing a great job and that they think the world of me.

And just like that, my day brightened...

Blognosing

Well, my good friend Kerry Hoke mentioned on his MySpace page the new phenomenon known as blognosing. Never heard of it, you say. Well neither had I till Kerry Hoke told me about it. Seems it is the act of sucking up to someone in hopes of being mentioned on their blog.

At least that's what Kerry Hoke said it meant...

Truer words have not been spoken

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe. -- Albert Einstein

Let me get out the hip waders and the shovel...

... because the $h!t is really starting to get deep in here.

How can it be that someone can complain when an organization holds a banquet to honor its volunteers for sacrificing themselves so selflessly throughout the year? Those volunteers received prizes donated by various local and non-local organizations, and yet there are complaints by those who assume (remember the old saying about ASS and U and ME?) that the organization spent money on those prizes. This is the one of the few times that they are honored by their peers for the job they do; and yet some people will find fault in that.

How is it that someone can criticize an organization and its leadership, failing to see the amazing strides that organization has made and continues to make? Why is it that they fail to see the positive and yet accentuate the negative?

Why is it that some people cannot seem to separate a person's private life from their public? Once again they assume that somehow they are related and that one will affect the other.

Why do some people seemed destined to live in the past, refusing to accept the present, much less the future? Those people dredge up old accusations. that had no merit in the past, and pass those off as gospel truth, poisoning fresh minds with their bile.

How easy is it to hide behind a veil of anonymity, criticizing and dividing, offering nothing constructive?

For some, all too easy...

Why dogs are better than...

The ex-wife once complained that I would pet the dog before I would hug and kiss her when I came home in the evening. I replied that it was because the dog would meet me at the door with its tail wagging, happy to see me. The ex-wife waited on the couch for me to come to her.

Tonight I noticed how Buford reacted when I would give him the slightest attention. Just looking his way set his tail to wagging with anticipation that he might get a short tummy rub. Dogs live simply to be with we humans, no matter how un-deserving we might be.

Maybe we humans could learn something from dogs...

Chilly outside, Chili in

There's nothing like cold weather to pave the way for making one of the greatest culinary masterpieces known to man: Texas chili. Nothing else made is truly chili, especially if it hails from anywhere north of the Red River, particulary the city in Ohio named for a legendary Roman.

My chili is nicknamed Dalton's Intestinal Destroyer Chili. That name is given as a badge of honor and respect. Any chili that doesn't clear out your bowels is not truly chili.

Chili should not be watery. It should have plenty of beef, chunks of tomato, bell peppers, and onions. It should have finely chopped jalapeno peppers. Beans are optional, as is rice (yes, Louisiana is close by).

So tonight's dinner was scrumptious; tomorrow will be painful...

Purchasing Sin in Bulk

Saturday is my re-stock the fridge day, so of to Wally-World I go. Drifting by the refrigerated dessert section and what do I see? You guessed it -- Pumpkin Pecan Praline Pie. On sale.

So I bought five...

Hey, it was all that they had.

It's Deja Vu all over again...

Saturday morning, 8:30AM... heavy fog... MVA...

Haven't we seen this before... next verse, same as the first?

This Saturday started exactly the same as last, with the exception of this call wasn't in our territory and it wasn't on fire, AND we weren't out on the call till after Noon.

Hopefully, that's all we have day...

Sodom and Gomorrah in my kitchen

Pumpkin Praline Cream Cheese Pie.

Decadence defined.

That is all...

Into the Fire

by Bruce Springsteen

The sky was falling and streaked with blood
I heard you calling me, then you disappeared into the dust
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

You gave your love to see, in fields of red and autumn brown
You gave your love to me and lay your young body down
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need you near, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

It was dark, too dark to see, you held me in the light you gave
You lay your hand on me
Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your love bring us love

The Fall of the Roman Empire

I posted the exact same post below to the forum section of an online community of which I have been a member for over five years. I don't know what type of response I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting to be attacked. I was called naive, stupid, and a racist. The FD was accused of using "strong-arm tactics" to "guilt" people into donating.

Words fail me.

Then I realized that the problem lies in the way I perceive the world with the way these people perceive the world. I don't know if it is a generational, regional, idealogical, or socio-economic issue.

Or maybe it's just me. A good friend is constantly telling me that I'm the world's last true Boy Scout. I prefer to think of myself as the heir to Cincinnatus, willing to abandon my fields, throw on my cloak, and go off to fight just because Rome needs me. I'm not trying to be a hero, just doing my civic duty.

Many historians point to a decline in the average Roman's views on civic duty as one of the reasons for the fall of the Empire.

What does that say about where we're headed...

A Fair Trade Proposal for Mexico

Since you seem so intent on shipping most of your citizenry to the US, I think it's only fair that you take a portion of our citizenry into Mexico. I propose two groups, the criminal drug addicts (which only makes sense, since Mexico is their prime supplier) and the typical yuppy scum that blights our landscape with their smug smile, sipping cappacinos, and driving their BMWs, Acuras, or SUVs.

Why do you ask am I so indisposed towards yuppies? Well, I just spent the last two days doing a fundraiser for the VFD of which I am an officer and member. This fundraiser is a simple fill-the-bucket at the only four-way stop in the area. Nothing major, people drive by, roll down their window, and drop whatever they feel appropriate into the bucket. We've gotten everything from a handful of pennies to a hundred-dollar bill to a diamond ring.

Why do this type of fundraiser and not others, you may ask? First, it is easy to organize and requires little manpower. Second, the amount of money it raises per hour is quite good. And third, 75% of all MVAs in our district involve out-of-towners. Our department is not supported by a city or any type of taxing authority. Instead, we rely on a per-run contract with the county and on donations. So fundraisers like this are very important.

Anyway, as I worked this fundraiser, I noticed something that began to grate on me the longer the fundraiser lasted. I noticed that your average working-man or woman, no matter their ethnicity, were donating at a much higher percentage than those who, by appearances, seemed to be much better off financially.

In fact, it was so bad that it was surprising when someone driving a BMW, Acura, Cadillac, any upscale SUV, etc. would donate. Most would stare straight ahead, pretend not to notice that we were even there (hard to ignore the big red trucks with flashing lights), and drive on.

Someday, somewhere, they are going to need the services of a VFD and I hope they remember all the times they didn't donate. Moreover, I hope that the VFD is actually able to respond quickly and not be held back because of lack of funds because pricks like themselves wouldn't donate.

RETARD ALERT!!! RETARD ALERT!!!

So I'm at the gas station last night, filling up the Dodge (Damned Old Dad's Gas Eater, for sure!!), when I smell the unmistakeable odor of cigarette smoke. I look around and notice the guy on the other side of the pump smoking. The following exchange occured.

"Ummm... would you please step way over there if you're going to smoke."

"No, I'm fine"

"It's not you that I'm worried about. If you want to blow yourself up, be my guest, just don't take me with you. Now please step away from the pump."

"No, really... I'm fine..."

You know, you just can't fix stupid.....

CSI: Houston

You've gotta love Texas!!! Where else would you have mosquitos that could be mistaken for wasps, plus be mowing the lawn, in the middle of November?

But I really do love this state. Watching CSI last night on the Tivo made me so glad I live here and not some pseudo-communist state. You see, on CSI (which is set in Las Vegas... I thought Nevada was fairly conservative, but I guess it's just too close to the People's Republic of Kalifornia) they were having a coroner's inquest for one of the CSIs who ran over a young, black man who was part of a gang "fanny-stomping" some poor guy to death.

Whiskey?

Tango?

Foxtrot?

I can just see how this would have played out in Texas.

Judge: "Lemme git this straight. CSI Tanner, you observed the victim as part of a mob that was beating an innocent civilian to death, who then picked up a large rock to finish the job, but instead ran at your vehicle weilding the rock when you tried to stop him."

CSI Tanner: "Yes, sir."

Judge: "And you only hit him once, correct?"

CSI Tanner: "Yes, sir."

Judge: "You didn't back over him, run him over two or three times, didya?"

CSI Tanner: "No, sir."

Judge: "Then why the hell are we here?!?! Case dismissed!!!"

Sometime during this inquest, some young liberal smart-@$$ young man who is part of the jury steps up and says, "I just want to know when it became OK to run over young, black men in the street?"

Once again, I can see what would've happened in Texas.

Judge: "Bailiff, could you kindly escort this young punk out of my courtroom and into the back alley and beat the livin' $h!t out of him so he'll know what police brutality really is the next time he sees it!!"

Gotta love Texas justice....

The Joy of Teaching, Reloaded

The last week has been that wonderful time of year that every teacher enjoys: the last week of a grading period. At my school, this would be the end of a six-weeks grading period. It absolutely mystifies me that students that could care less for five weeks about their grades are all-of-a-sudden very, very interested.

More amazing is that it is up to me to pass them. In their minds, it's not their responsibility whether they pass or fail, it's mine. So it comes as a major shock to them when they realize the truth.

Every year I start by telling my students to not expect me to bail them out when they've fracked off for five weeks, that there is no extra credit, and that I will not let them turn in all that work that they never did just so they can pass. I sometimes feel like I'm the only teacher that stands by their policy of refusing to accept late work.

It was so bad that I actually had a student tell me, "No wonder everyone hates you!!"

Wow, that's the problem right there. They're under the mistaken belief that I got into this profession to make friends....

Winged Attack Stinging Pests, Part II

With all the recent flooding, this area of East Texas is now being subjected to the scourge of scourges. Yes dear friends, the mosquito.

Now, I'm now talking about your average Minnesota mosquito. Nope, everything is bigger in Texas and these are the size of a small hummingbird. I'm even afraid to let Buford go out at night for fear they might cart him off, even as paunchy as he is.

And there are literally hundreds of them. I've lived in this area for over thirty years and I've never seen swarms this bad. The only upside is that since they are so large, you can actually feel them land on you and can swat 'em before they bite.

Thank God for small miracles...

Burn baby, burn!!

Saturday morning, the FD and I hosted a training seminar for a couple of area FDs. This seminar included both classroom presentation and hands-on "live" burns. Now, in the interest of safety and to teach proper ventilation and extinguishing methods, the fires didn't really get that hot. This prompted a member from another FD to comment about it not being hot enough.

Mistake.

Big mistake.

Just for the record, not one was injured, but at least one fire helmet came out a little worse for wear.

But the good news is that we established a new level of camaraderie and trust amongst the various firefighters there. And when your life and the lives of others is on the line, that can be very, very important.

X-Mas Wish List

The ex-wife once commented as to the reason that I was so very difficult to shop for with regards to X-mas gifts, in that I didn't wait around for someone to give me a gift, if I saw something I liked, I bought it right then and there.

So, in a remarkable show of self-restraint and taking into consideration the feelings of those around me, I didn't purchase several items this week. There was a nice Bluetooth presentation remote on Overstock.com that I had in my cart but let slip away, along with a 1000tc sheet-set. Then there was that nifty little 3MP retro-look digital camera at WM (I believe it was made by Philips and was less than $70... hint, hint). However, I did buy the new laptop computer from Dell, but that was too expensive to be a X-mas gift.

Buford just chimed in that he'd like a few chew toys, the spoiled-rotten little pooch...

The Clueless or Worse...

I recently got an e-mail letting me know that someone had posted a comment in the Fire Department's website guestbook. I log in and check it out and just have to laugh.

Once again, an attack against me and my family, telling how terrible my family has been to the Department and how everything would be so much better if my brother and I weren't Chief and Assistant Chief, respectively.

Obviously, this person has either never been in the Department and is just ignorant, or is and ex-member and, in addition to having some residual anger, is a complete idiot.

In December 2004, in what can be described best as a palace coup, my brother was voted out as Chief and the then Assistant Chief voted in as Chief. Ten months later, this person was removed not only from office, but from the Department entirely. In ten short months the Department went from being caught up on its bills to being several months behind on bills, with the threat of repossession of the engine on the horizon. All-in-all, we were over $25,000 behind on our payments.

So this person was removed and my brother was asked to take the reigns once again. Now, a year after his resuming control, all of those bills have been paid and the Department is not only completely caught up, but is several months ahead. In addition, the Department has purchased twelve new sets of SCBA with spare bottles, five new pagers, and ten new handhelds. We sent three firefighters to Texas A&M over the summer, something we didn't do last year because we didn't have the funds. We have recently received word that we have been awarded two grants, one for wildland gear and another for a new tanker.

But my family screws the Department over, if you listen to the ignorant...

Thank God for DSL!!

Digital Subscriber Line, you pervs, not the other kind!!!

One of the biggest sacrifices moving back from Denton was saying goodbye to my 1.5Mbps cable modem and saying hello to good ole dial-up. Yep, we were still in the Dark Ages here in this little part of East Texas. To make matters worse, it seemed like everyone around me could get DSL EXCEPT for me.

That ended yesteday. After months of constantly checking SBC's, then ATT's, website, last Friday I finally got the message I'd been hoping for: that DSL was finally available at my home. I placed my order and waited, rather impatiently I might add.

Yesterday all of the necessary equipment showed up. Now, they weren't supposed to activate the line till tomorrow, but I thought, "What the hell," and hooked it up. All the lights were green and we were a go.

So I type this from my much faster internet connection. No more waiting for minutes for pages to load, it's done in the blink of an eye.

Life is good...

Frackin'

OK, I'm sure that there are those of you that wonder where that term comes from. Well, if you has to ask, it is because you are simply not cool enough, not hip enough, and dare I say, not intelligent enough to watch the best drama, as well as the best written show, on television today...

Battlestar Galactica

Wipe that smirk off your face before I march over there and kick your frackin' @$$.

That's right, Battlestar Galactica.

Forget the cheesy, Star Wars ripoff from the '70s. This is the new, re-imagined series that is light-years (no pun intended... no wait, maybe it was) above and beyond that old show. Seriously, it is as good as, if not better than 24 or Lost or ER. Really, really good.

You owe it to yourself to watch...

Suicide Girls

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100-Proof of Forget-it-All

Well, for those of you who don't know me that well, I'm an aspiring songwriter. I don't know what it is, the idea will pop into my head, words will flow, and a song emerges. Some of the songs can be really good, at least according to friends and family.

Well, tonight I had a whole bunch of people over for dinner, and after they left, these words just popped into my head. Now all of you amateur (or even professional, damned though you may well be) psychologists out there, don't try to read anything into this. It's just a song.

100-Proof of Forget-It-All

Well it’s too late for conversation
Too early to go home
Too late to shoot a game of pool
Guess I sit here all alone

Got a bottle in front of me
To help me forget the pain
I’ll get so drunk that I can’t see
Maybe even forget your name

Chorus
Well it’s 100-proof of forget-it-all
I’ve got here in my hand
Sometimes when it gets too hard
It helps me to understand

How a woman could just walk away
Leave me here to cry
It takes 100-proof of forget-it-all
Just to help me get by.

No, I really don’t want to dance
Don’t care to two-step or waltz.
It’s just too soon for another chance
Scared of running into a wall.

Now this bottle in front of me
Is the one thing I can count on
Too erase every memory
Make it easy to be strong

Chorus
Well it’s 100-proof of forget-it-all
I’ve got here in my hand
Sometimes when it gets too hard
It helps me to understand

How a woman could just walk away
Leave me here to cry
It takes 100-proof of forget-it-all
Just to help me get by.


Let me know what you think. Also, if you ever hear it on the radio, let me know. We'll split the royalties....

The Art of Customer Dis-service

OK, I'm tired of every other company out there whining about losing out to the dreaded evil empire that is Wal-Mart. Wake-up morons, you're not going to beat WM on price, their economies of scale are just too enormous, so you need to beat them elsewhere, like customer service.

That's what I like about WM: if you buy something and there is something wrong with it, you can take it back. No questions asked.

My SIL bought some snow crab legs on sale at a major, nation-wide chain supermarket. Now these crab legs were in a box, and when she got home and removed them from the box, it was obvious that they weren't any good. They smelled VERY bad. So she calls the store and they tell her, "no problem, just bring 'em back with your receipt."

Now you have to understand, we live out in the country where the closest one of these stores is a good thirty minute drive. Today, I was heading into the Houston area to do some shopping on my own and planned on stopping by one of these stores to buy the same crab legs, steaks, and beer. So she gives me the package she wanted returned and the receipt and asked if I'd return them for her.

Not a problem.

Till I got to the store, that is. There, I am informed that since they were not purchased at that particular store, they couldn't be returned there, the SIL would have to return them to the store from which they were purchased.

Whiskey...

Tango...

Foxtrot?!?!?!

Did I mention that at WM, it doesn't matter at which store you purchase an item, ANY WM will accept the return. This national chain supermarket doesn't do that. BAM!!! They just lost the customer service battle in my opinion.

I walked out of the store, without buying crab legs, steaks, or beer, an app. $50 to $75 in lost sales for them. More to the point, it'll be a snowy day in Texas in July before I shop at that chain again.

The Joy of Teaching

Teaching comes with a lot of nice little perks, like having summers off. Another perk is being able to see and/or participate in the latest fads that are sweeping the school. This week, the latest fad was a nasty little stomach virus. Several of my students got caught up in it, as did several members of my family. Last night, I had the honor of participating.

Last night was so much fun. First came the explosive diarrhea. Countless trips back and forth to the toilet. Right now, Charmin Super-Quilted Ultra whatever still feels like 40-grit sandpaper.

Then, as if I wasn't already having enough fun, around 2:30AM, my stomach decided right then would be a good time to expel all of its contents. I would rather go through a root canal sans anesthesia than vomit, so this was a particular treat.

But that didn't stop the diarrhea... nope, that would have cut into my enjoyment. All night I lay in bed, catching slight catnaps, awaiting the next round of turbulence in my gastro-intestinal tract. The only comfortable position was on my back, so this morning all my limbs are stiff and sore.

I just remembered why I hate following the latest fads...

Cursed blinking red light

So I awaken thirty minutes early this morning and Buford is letting me know in no uncertain terms that he needs to go out NOW!! So I get up and decide to start my day a little early.

I shave and shower and start cooking sausage and eggs for breakfast. It's been nice and chilly outside for the past several days, so a nice fresh cup of coffee sounded wonderful. While I love coffee, I really don't like to drink it when it's hot outside, but when the temps drop...

Anyway, so I fill up the reservoir and pop a fresh pod in. See, I've got one of those single cup coffeemakers that my dear SIL gave to me as a gift. Wonderful device for someone who only ever drinks a cup at a time. So I set it up and press the power button and... the little red light is blinking instead of being solid. Pressing the other buttons doesn't start the process of giving me hot caffeinated goodnes either, curses!!! I check the whole contraption over to see if something wasn't securely latched, but everything looks good. Of course, I've no clue where the owner's manual is, so I couldn't tell you what the blinking red light really means.

So no coffee for me. If someone hears of a teacher going beserk at a local school later on today... well... you can't say you weren't warned.

A Fire I Can't Put Out

Yesterday the pager goes off dispatching the neighboring department to a structure fire at the very fringes of their territory, which is on the other side of their territory from my department. They request aid from the next closest department and go on location advising that they have a double-wide manufactured home heavily-involved. They don't request any additional help, so I figure they've got it under control.

An hour later and still no request for help, I decide it is probably safe to start cooking dinner. Probably is the key word here. No sooner is dinner ready than they request our assistance. Karma and fate and whatever else can just kiss my...

Anyway, we roll our engine and four firefighters to assist, thinking that after an hour, the fire is in the basic "mop-up" stage. We couldn't have been more wrong. We arrive to find all four wall still standing with heavy smoke and fire coming from the roof. This is nearly two hours after the fire was initially dispatched. Oh... and did I mention this was a manufactured home.

The fire had gotten between the ceiling and the roof, which is a space of no more than six inches on this particular home, and had ignited the insulation. I've been a firefighter for over twenty years and I've NEVER seen a fire this stubborn. Finally, after fighting the fire for nearly five hours, we finally managed to get it out.

A manufactured home on fire for nearly five hours and all four walls were still standing. Figure that one out...

Hey!!! Where'd the road go?

Two posts in one day... I know, Beelzebub's teeth must be chattering.

Anyway, last night the fire department was dispatched to a report of a brush fire down in the river bottoms. The chief responds in his truck and I send a captain and a firefighter in the booster, then respond in the engine with three other firefighters. Routine little fire, no problem....

Until we get about halfway there. Dispatch informs us that there was some mis-communication and that it is actually a structure fire. Ooopppsss....

So we now have a slightly different scenario. Instead of staging at the entrance to the bottoms for water supply, I now have to go all the way to the scene. This means I have to go down roads, well I guess you could call them roads, I've seen pig trails that were better developed, that I'd just as soon not put a 30,000+ pound engine down. At least I'm not in the tanker...

We arrive on location to find that the house was being demolished, but whoever was doing the work just little the rubble on fire and left. Not smart considering the dry conditions. So we put it out. At least it gave my rookies some hose time.

Winged Attack Stinging Pests

This past weekend, while attempting to mow my lawn, I was stung by some unknown creature on my back. Luckily, I keep a pouch of chewing tobacco in the freezer for just such an emergency, so I ran into the house and moistened some under the faucet (no way am I putting that vile stuff in my mouth) and placed it on the affected area. I took two Benadryl and two ibuprofen and went back to work, never figuring out what it was that stung me or from where it came.

Until today.

I check my mail this afternoon after I arrived home from work. No sooner did I open the mailbox door then... BAM!!! BAM!!! One hit to the left arm, another to the right, with a third buzzing furiously about my head and chest. I back quickly away, hoping to avoid a third sting. Fortunately, the little b@$t@rd didn't feel like pursuing.

So I head into the house and administer treatment. I then plotted my revenge. Since I didn't feel like replacing the mailbox, using the flamethrower was out, but I do always keep a can of wasp and hornet spray in my truck. So I retrieve said can and quickly dispatch the offending insects to wherever they go in the afterlife. Probably to hell to terrorize the damned.

Now I wait for the Benadryl to kick in and take me off to la-la land...

Working on Labor Day

Well, for the record, as a teacher I had Labor Day off with regards to my paying job. But as usual, this means that I spent it at my non-paying job. The FD held a fire apparatus and equipment expo, with several manufacturer reps showing up to show off their newest toys. While not a resounding success, it does give us something to build off of next year.

So I was out in the sun all day. I look like a raccoon where my sunglasses were, the white standing out against the red. That'll teach me to wear sunscreen next time. Right now I'm tired and ready to call it a night so I can be ready for my paying job tomorrow.

Don't Touch my Willie!!

There are certain songst that just should not be played on the radio when you are driving. I remember getting a speeding ticket once while jamming out to "Eye of the Tiger." It was the song's fault, I swear...

So I'm listening to the radio driving home when this song comes on the radio. It talks about a girl coming over wearing a low-cut dress and carrying a bottle of wine. Somewhere in there she starts rummaging through the singer's album collection and starts to play "Red-headed Stranger." That's when I almost lost it. The chorus exhorts the girl not to touch his Willie. Talk about double entendre. I started laughing so hard I almost ran off the road.

Anyway, here's the full lyrics for your amusement:
She showed up at my house at half past nine
In a low-cut dress with a bottle of wine
She said this will be a night you won't forget

She poured us some drinks to get us into the mood
I reached for the lights, she reached for my tunes
She pulled out that Red Headed Stranger, I stood up and said

Don't touch my Willie
I don't know you that well
Help yourself to some Haggard or some Jones
Hell, or anybody else
I don't know what you heard
I ain't that kind of guy
Yeah so don't touch my Willie,
We'll get a long just fine

She said she never met a man like me in her life
Who wouldn't share his Willie on the very first night
I said it's nothing personal, don't take it so hard

I don't pull out my Willie for just anyone
There's a lot of other records that you can choose from
So let me make myself clear before you go too far

Don't touch my Willie
I don't know you that well
Help yourself to some Haggard or some Jones
Hell, or anybody else
I don't know what you heard
I ain't that kind of guy
Yeah so don't touch my Willie,
We'll get a long just fine

Keep your hands off my Willie,
We'll get along just fine

That's some funny $h!t, I don't care who you are...

Iron Chef is me

Well, I spent the vast majority of the weekend engaged in culinary pursuits. Last night I tried out a new recipe for Peach-Rosemary Chicken which turned out to be VERY tasty. Today, I grilled steaks for lunch and while I had the fire going, barbequed some country-style ribs. I had put a dry rub on both the steaks and ribs last night, so they were definitely ready to go. At least now I've got my meals for the next week planned out. That's the key to bachelor living... planning.

All in all, a very lazy Sunday. I'm going to top it off with a football game (GO TEXANS!!!) and maybe some Xbox. It's good to be king!!

Of Frogs...

I was thinking today, do you know what the only thing that is guaranteed to happen when a frog jumps?

He's going to land on his ass...

Great wisdom in that.

Then there's the old biker saying, "Keeping your mouth shut is the best way to keep from swallowing something nasty." They were talking about flies and other insects, but it applies to life in general.

Hmmm... frogs and flies. Anyone see a pattern?

The difference between men and boys...

... is the size of their toys.

Last week, my ancient, decrepit pushmower finally decided to give up the ghost. I can't complain much, seeing as how it was nearly ten years old and cost less than $100 when I bought it. And it has mowed a ton of grass. Truth be told, I was secretly wishing for its demise. It was a basic, side-discharge, 3.5HP B&S push mower. My inner Tim "The Toolman" Taylor was screaming for something more.

Anyway, midway through mowing the lawn last Saturday, it died and refused to start. I cleaned out the carb and checked the plug and ignition, but nothing worked. A moment of sadness followed by "YIPEEE!!!"

I now could go buy a new mower with a clear conscious. So on Sunday morning I went to the big blue national-chain home improvement store and purchased my new toy. Self-propelled, bag, mulch, or side-discharge, 5.5HP Honda-powered goodness. Aaarghh, Aaarghh, Aaargh!!!

This morning I got to put it through its paces. The Honda starts so much easier and is MUCH quieter than the B&S. The self-propel works like a charm and there was nothing that could bog this thing down. It just flat out mowed circles around the old mower, as well it should, considering it cost three times as much. I finished in a lot less time and wasn't nearly as tired. There's something to be said for just walking behind the mower while it pulls itself along versus having to provide the locomotive force yourself.

Is it a sign of insanity that I almost (ALMOST) can't wait for the grass to grow so I can mow again?

Ya got two ears and one mouth...

... don't cha think ya oughta listen twice as much as ya talk."

My grandpa used to say that to me. It's amazing that as I've grown older, I begin to realize the truth and wisdom in the things my grandpa, grandma, mom, and dad used to tell me. I truly wish I knew half as much now as I thought I knew when I was sixteen.

I also wish I'd taken his advice and listened a lot more than I'd talked all those years ago.

Wax on, Wax off

"Uurrrkkk......Uuuurrrkkkk.....Uuurrrkkkkk...."

That was the sound that awakened me this morning. The unmistakable sound of a dog trying to heave. At least Buford was on the floor this time and didn't heave in the bed!!! I jumped up and hurriedly ushered him outside but it was too late. Great, now I've got to clean up dog puke. What a way to start a Sunday!!!

So now that I'm up at 8:00AM, I figure I might as well do something. Sunday is my day to clean house; it lets me start the week out fresh, so to speak. So I vaccuum and mop and wash the sheets and clean the kitchen and bathrooms. By 10:00, I'm done.

So I start to clean my truck. I vacuumed and wiped-down the inside and washed and waxed the exterior. That truck looks REALLY GOOD when it's cleaned up.

I finished just before 13:00, so now it's time to post my blog and take a nap. I may play some NCAA Football 2005 on the Xbox.

I owe, I owe... so it's off to work I go....

"The Reason I Work: A Short Essay"

by Me


I like to eat.

The End.


So my near-idyllic summer vacation has wound down to a close and I am forced to once again perform the duties that garner me a paycheck. Once more into a classroom full of shiny, happy faces ripe with promise, only to have that promise castrated by apathy. Not ignorance... apathy. Students today don't care and they want everything given to them on a silver platter. The ideals that made America the world's greatest nation, that hard-work and perseverance can accomplish anything, are dead to the upcoming generations.

And who is to blame? Parents, teachers, media, politicians, peers... even the students themselves. Every one of them shares responsibility, but the only ones being held accountable are the teachers.

Scary, isn't it.

Well then, why isn't it "stoply" force?

I finally got around to doing something that I've been wanting to do for years. No, it isn't having sex with Jennifer Aniston. It's taking a concealed handgun class.

Ya' see, in the Republic of Texas, with the proper training and license, you are allowed to carry a handgun on your person. Which solidifies my opinion that we have the stupidest criminals in the world here. I mean, would you attack someone knowing that there is the possibility that they are armed? I wouldn't, but then again, I'm neither stupid nor a criminal.

Most of the stuff I already knew, but there was some good information on it. Though the educated person in me chuckled at the question about the purpose of using deadly force. Contrary to what you might think, it is not to kill someone, but rather to stop them from committing their life-threatening action.

Wait a second!!! "Deadly" force. As in making someone dead. As in killing them. Not stopping them, killing them. If I wanted to just stop them... well, I wouldn't call it deadly force, I'd call it something else.

Anyway, part of the class is going to the gun range and testing your proficiency with handguns. Just so you'd know, I did pass. The weapon I was given to use was a Smith & Wesson 9mm. Pretty nice double-action semi-auto that fit my hand fairly well. Not as well as my old Browning Hi-Power, but the Browning did have Pachmayr grips. I've always thought that I'd go back to a Hi-Power when I bought another handgun, but I might have to check out the S&W. That or a Sig, but sure as hell not a Glock. No "tactical Tupperware" for me, I really don't trust a gun without a hammer.

Anyway, that was my Saturday. I've spent today sitting on my @$$, trying to relax one last time before I have to go back to work on Wednesday.

One of the things they did teach us at the class was that school employees are not allowed to carry a gun on school premises. Well duh!!! There's a reason for that, trust me...

The Monkey on my Back

It's my son's fault. He said it was harmless, that "everyone" was doing it. I thought, "what the hell, I'm an adult," that I could try just a little and walk away. No harm, no foul.

But I couldn't. I tried going cold turkey, but I just couldn't.

So I broke down and ordered one. An Xbox. An Xbox with NCAA Football 2005.

It was waiting at the door when I came back from lunch. Great Italian food with a hot blonde, what better way to spend lunch. But I digress...

My fix was there, waiting for me when I arrived home. I quickly opened the box and hooked up all the cables. I then spent the next hour creating my team and players.

I was ready to play.

So I pick the team I want to go against and get ready. It goes through all the pre-game activities and then..... it stops. I get an error message telling me the disc is dirty or damaged. I take it out, but see no bad scratches or anything that could be causing the error. I clean it carefully and put it back in and go through the procedures again to start the game. Same error. I do this several times to no avail.

So now I've got my Xbox, but the game won't work. My fix is right there but I can't use it....

NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

My Give-A-Damn is Busted

I'm guessing that the realization that my summer vacation ends in less than a week and that in less than two, I'll be staring at a whole new crop of shiny, happy faces ready to spend the next ten months in constant whine-mode....

Well, let's just say that my tolerance for idiots is at an all-time low.

Throw in on top of that my still-ongoing struggles with a certain satellite TV company. When all this started, I had a DVR receiver that I wanted to use. However, I needed a new access card, which most of you know took a lot of hair-pulling and teeth-gnashing to acquire. During this time, the install tech comes out not once, but twice. The second time he installs a regular receive because I STILL HADN'T GOTTEN THE ACCESS CARD!!!

So now that my access card has been received and installed, I no longer have use for the regular receiver, so I call to have them come get it. After several attempts at getting the limited-English-speaking flunkie on the phone to understand what it was I needed to have done, he then transfers me (yet again) to another department.

Or at least he was s'posed to transfer me.

I never made it.

After several minutes of hearing someone talking in the background, the phone is disconnected. That is thirty minutes of my life I'll never get back. Now I've got to try and explain to yet someone else exactly what it is I need accomplished.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

PSA: FYI, they keep firetrucks behind those big doors at the fire station. Just in case you weren't quite clear on the matter.

If you can't Dodge it.... Ram it!!!

Well, those who frequent this blog know of the troubles I've been having with my Chevy S10. I finally decided to bite the bullet and buy a new(er) truck. Luckily, my dad had a 2001 Dodge Ram 1500 with only 68k miles that he allowed me to take up the notes on.

So I put a "For Sale" sign on my truck and within hours, the phone was ringing. I sold it for slightly less than what I was asking, but more than I would have settled for, so all was good.

My "new" truck has some nice performance goodies, like a K&N filter and a sweet-sounding dual exhaust. I spent today putting my two-way radio and siren in it. Needless to say, they were alot easier to install on the Dodge than they were on the S10, there's so much more room.

Now I've got to wash and wax it and make it look really nice....

My week of hell... errr... Hale

Just got home from spending a week at the world's greatest firefighter training school at Texas A&M University. I learned a whole helluva lot this week, taking the Pump Maintenance class. This meant I got to tear apart and put back together pumps from the Big Three -- Hale, Waterous, and Darley, as well as valves from those three and Akron and Elkhart. Real, macho, manly stuff going on there. Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor would be proud.

So now I get to go back to my Department and place what I've learned into action. I've got a pump that screams like a banshee on my tanker that I'm going to fix next week. Well, either fix it or break it so bad it'll require a complete new pump...

Do as I say, not as I do...

You've got to love the people or organizations that'll get up on their soapbox and preach, laying forth the rules that they expect everyone else to follow... and then they break those very rules themselves.

And like the proverbial playground bully that has been shoving all of the little kids around, when someone finally stands up and points out their hypocrisy, they get angry.

That's what I can't stand about our current Democratic party. They'll preach about separation of church and state till they're blue in the face, then have a politician speak ABOUT POLITICS at a church service. Listen, you can't bitch about prayer in schools or "Under God" in the pledge and then have Gore or one of the Clintons speak in church. Not preach a sermon trying to save souls, NO!!! This is a political speech deriding the conservatives in a church on a Sunday morning!!!

They'll preach about equality for all, but then by their actions let it be known that they think they are smarter than everyone else. That they are the only ones that "get it." Elitist bastards!!!

It's simple, if you're doing it, don't complain when someone else does the exact same thing.

Sunday mornings at 7:30AM...

... and I don't mix well. It's the weekend and I'm s'posed to be able to sleep late. But no, today I had to get up and assist on a controlled burn. At least the coffee was good (Thanks T, Gevalia rocks).

Little did I know that it was the start of the day from hell.

Managed to make it out to the site by around 8:30 with three firetrucks and six firefighters. Minutes later several of the fires are blazing, but the weather conditions are perfect to keep things under control. All we have to do is sit back and watch.

At 9:30, First Responders are toned for a call, so the 2nd Ass't Chief leaves in her PV to run the call. About fifteen minutes later, I hear my Chief request a helicopter and an LZ. I leave a captain in charge of my remaining two trucks and two firefighters as I head to the LZ site with the third truck and another firefighter. The bird lands, the patient is loaded, the bird takes off, and we go back in-service. My truck and another that had responded to the LZ are low on fuel, so we head to the city to fill up.

Talk with the chief and we decide to take everyone out for lunch, so back to the station to wait for the crew to return from the controll burn. About 11:30 everyone is back, so we head back to the city for some chow.

Around 13:00, I finally make it back home. I chat with the neighbors, let the dog out, water the plants, and intend to go take a shower and take a nap.... but no... the man who we were doing the contolled burn for calls on my cellphone. Seems the wind has picked up and it's threatening to get into the woods. I head to the station, calling firefighters on the phone to see if I can get some help. One answers the call, so we head to the scene. About midway there, the man calls back and said it's really getting bad, so we up our traffice to full Code 3 and advise dispatch to tone the Department.

We get on location and start working to put the fire out, only to high-center the truck on a hidden stump. Get the winch hooked up and pull the truck out. Others trucks show up and we knock the fire down.

Back home, I finally manage to get that shower and brief nap. A dear friend shows up and I spend some quality time with her, curled up on the couch with her and Buford.

But it's not the end of the story. Nope, we were dispatched to another LZ at around 21:30. By the time I get home and get showered (again), it's after 23:00.

What a day!!!

Gotta love customer (dis-)service...

I've been wrestling for the better part of two weeks with customer service at a certain company that shall remain nameless in the interest of not getting sued. The people have been very nice and friendly, but to date they've been unable to alleviate the problem.

I need a part, a certain part, to make a possession of mine function. So I call the company and they promise that they'll ship it out via (once again, no company names) and that I'll have it the next day. The charge of the part shows up on my credit card.

A week later I still haven't received the necessary part, so I call again. Seems there was a problem with my address and the first person I talked to hadn't gotten all of the required technical information. They worked to correct both problems and promised I'd have the part the next day. Sound familiar.

Three days later, still not having the part in my possession, I call. Seems the address is still the problem. Their computer system refuses to accept it and now they're having to "escalate" the problem to Logistics and have them solve it. I may get my part in a week or two.

Today, they call to have me do a customer satisfaction survey. OH BOY!!! That one should have upper management scrambling.

Then tonight, I log on to find out that they had charged me again for the part the second and third time I had called. I'm really, really, really happy about now. So I call and get them to credit my account for the additional two times they charged me.

Once again, everyone has been very polite and did their best to help, but I still don't have what I need.

Like the title says...

Size really does matter...

Ok, I really love getting e-mail, though if you send ANYTHING requiring a forward, be warned, it will stop with me. I DO NOT FORWARD ANYTHING!!!!

But please, check the size of your attachments. For those of you on DSL, cable modems, or satellite internet, large attachments mean nothing. For me on my slow-as-hell, 28.8kbps-on-a-good-day dialup, large attachments are a no-go. I don't even bother with them, I log onto my web-mail and hit delete.

I long for the day when I can get DSL here. I've got friends that live in BFE that have DSL, and I live less than a half-mile from the school and can't get. Life isn't fair...

Singing in my sleep?!?!

I awakened from a very, very odd dream this morning. Seems I was at my parent's house, trying to explain to some faceless person (don't you hate when that happens in a dream) the old Red Sovine song "Phantom 309." In the dream, I even struggled to remember the words to the song.

Whiskey...

Tango...

Foxtrot?

I haven't heard that song in years. Why in the world would it pop up in a dream? I mean, it's a great song, but what the hell is the meaning of it showing up in a dream?

For those that have never heard it, here are the lyrics:



I was out on the West Coast, tryin' to make a buck
And things didn't work out, I was down on my luck
Got tired a-roamin' and bummin' around
So I started thumbin' back East, toward my home town.

Made a lot of miles, the first two days
And I figured I'd be home in week, if my luck held out this way
But, the third night I got stranded, way out of town
At a cold, lonely crossroads, rain was pourin' down.

I was hungry and freezin', done caught a chill
When the lights of a big semi topped the hill
Lord, I sure was glad to hear them air brakes come on
And I climbed in that cab, where I knew it'd be warm.

At the wheel sat a big man, he weighed about two-ten
He stuck out his hand and said with a grin
"Big Joe's the name", I told him mine
And he said: "The name of my rig is Phantom 309."

I asked him why he called his rig such a name
He said: "Son, this old Mack can put 'em all to shame
There ain't a driver, or a rig, a-runnin' any line
Ain't seen nothin' but taillights from Phantom 309."

Well, we rode and talked the better part of the night
When the lights of a truck stop came in sight
He said: "I'm sorry son, this is as far as you go
'Cause, I gotta make a turn, just on up the road."

Well, he tossed me a dime as he pulled her in low
And said: "Have yourself a cup on old Big Joe."
When Joe and his rig roared out in the night
In nothin' flat, he was clean out of sight.

Well, I went inside and ordered me a cup
Told the waiter Big Joe was settin' me up
Aw!, you coulda heard a pin drop, it got deathly quiet
And the waiter's face turned kinda white.

Well, did I say something wrong? I said with a halfway grin
He said: "Naw, this happens every now and then
Ever' driver in here knows Big Joe
But son, let me tell you what happened about ten years ago.

At the crossroads tonight, where you flagged him down
There was a bus load of kids, comin' from town
And they were right in the middle, when Big Joe topped the hill
It could have been slaughter, but he turned his wheel.

Well, Joe lost control, went into a skid
And gave his life to save that bunch-a kids
And there at that crossroads, was the end of the line
For Big Joe and Phantom 309

But, every now and then, some hiker'll come by
And like you, Big Joe'll give 'em a ride
Here, have another cup and forget about the dime
Keep it as a souvenir, from Big Joe and Phantom 309!"

Singing in the Shower

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love to sing. Opinions on how well I sing are varied, but I do love to sing.

About seven years back I had a chance to audition for a progressive-metal band call "All Too Human" (www.alltoohuman.com) whose lead singer had quit. Maurice, the bassist, and another guy come over to the house and I sang a few Queensryche songs for them. He then hands me a cassette tape of their latest album and tells me to listen to it and see if I can handle the songs.

The next morning on the way to work I pop the tape into the player of my truck. WOW!!! This band is awesome. The arrangements, playing, vocals... WOW!!! They were a cross between Queensryche and Dream Theater with a very healthy dose of Rush tossed in. And in true prog-metal fashion, the lyrics were incredible.

The first song was called "What Do You Call Me Now?" and it swooped and soared. I tried for weeks to wrap my vocals around it, but never could consistently. So I never called Maurice back and let the opportunity slip away like shadows in the night.

I still sing it occassionally in the shower. It still frustrates me in ways few other songs can. I still cannot consistently hit the notes. I hadn't sang it in several months when it popped into my head last night. Once again, I couldn't master this song, but the lyrics stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Free to question why.
To seek the truth
And weed out all the lies.

The banter of the innocent,
Running through my mind.
Vanity and arrogance,
Echo the voices, of uncertainty!!

What do you call the point
Between the silence and the sound?
What do you call the angels
Turned inside out?
What do you call the dreamers
Taken from their dreams?
What do you call me now?

Free to speak your mind.
Ignore the truth,
To see and still be blind.

The shattering of innocence,
Guilt inside my head.
Isolated circumstance,
Leads to the feeling, of uncertainty!!

What do you call the point
Between the silence and the sound?
What do you call the angels
Turned inside out?
What do you call the dreamers
Taken from their dreams?
What do call me now?

Free to see the lie,
To hear the truth
And know it's just a lie.
Just a lie!!!

What do you call the point
Between the silence and the sound?
What do you call the angels
Turned inside out?
What do you call the dreamer
Taken from his dream?
What do you call me now?

What do you call me now?

What do you call me now?"

The rest of the album was as good, if not better, lyrically. I'll have to go back and listen to the album, a Google search turns up nothing useful, and post the lyrics here from time to time.

Careful, you'll put an eye out with that thing!!!

Most people, when questioned, would rank a tootbrush on the list of potential sight destroying objects near the very bottom. They would be wrong.

First, let me preface this by first explaining that I don't brush my teeth in the approved ADA fashion. None of this namby-pamby up-and-down motion. Nope, I brush my teeth the way God intended, in a side-to-side motion. Second, my mother taught me that if you're going to scrub something, by God SCRUB it!!! So when I brush my teeth, I do it VERY well!!!

This has led at least one ex-wife to comment on the state of my tootbrush, with its bent and frayed bristles. At least I didn't get my first filling till I was in my twenties...

So the other night I'm brushing my teeth in my typical side-to-side, bristle destroying fashion, when the toothbrush breaks. Literally the head snaps off, leaving only a sharply pointed object any prisoner would prize. Now, this couldn't happen during an outward stroke, could it? Nope, this newly-made shank is now hurtling inward towards my innocent teeth and gums. But the laws of physics state that for every reaction, there must be an equal and opposite reaction. So as the brush portion falls into the sink, the shank is now propelled outward.

Towards my eye.

Luckily, the force wasn't sufficient enough to reach that far, but the broken toothbrush did go into my cheek, right below the eye. OUCH!!! Hurt like hell, but a cursory inspection showed it didn't break the skin.

So I'm left standing there, foam coming from my mouth, wondering how I'm going to finish brushing and thankful I can still see myself in the mirror. With both eyes....

"Humans tend to fear that which they do not understand...

... and destroy that which they fear."

When we perceive that a friend is being hurt, not fully understanding the situation, we lash out at the perceived threat... and something is destroyed.

When we perceive that viscious lies are being told about us, not understanding the motives, we lash out blindly at the perceived liar... and something is destroyed.

So much destruction based on our inaccurate perceptions... if our reality is based upon our perceptions, which prove false, can someone please tell me what is real?

I'm tired of all the mis-understanding, fear, and destruction, all based on a mutually skewed perception. Time to step back and search for a new reality....

Like cats on a hot tin roof...

... trying to cover up $h!t. It doesn't work and the stench is still there. Others know the truth that the lies are meant to cover up.

How does it feel to have the finger pointed at you for something you insist you didn't do and no one believe you? And the louder you protest your innocence, the more others insist that "guilty dogs bark the loudest." Frustrating, isn't it?

Welcome to my world....

Lessons learned from history

Anyone that knows me, knows that I am a History teacher that truly believes the philosophy of Georges Santayana, "Those who do not understand the past are doomed to repeat its failures."

King Louis XIV of France once said, "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer." Sage advice. He used it to bring peace to a nation that had been wracked by a seemingly endless cycle of civil war by bringing the powerful nobles to the court at Versailles. There they became immersed in court ceremony and intrigue and were far from their own power bases, where they might plot insurrection. Louis kept a very close eye on his enemies.

The problem is, Louis didn't give an even more important piece of advice, because I don't believe even he knew the answer: How do you tell the difference?

An Ode to Buford

Throughout my life, I've been privileged to have been owned by a few really exceptional dogs. When times have been the most troubling, they have been the ones to stand patiently by my side. Somehow they sense when you are depressed and need someone or something to hold on to, an anchor in this fast-spinning world. Apollo and Heidi (both RIP) were both there when my marriages fell apart. Now Buford is there for me when life's current troubles drag me down.

Everyone has seen the t-shirts or posters about why dogs are better than either men or women, or even cats. Dogs are just bettter, period. They don't care who your friends are and they don't judge you. They just live to be near you, no matter what the circumstances. They are truly man's best friend.

Well, It's Official...

... today I got my first bill in my new abode. The electric bill finally arrived today. I did some mental math for the amount of time in this billing cycle and extrapolated the data to come up with an estimated monthly bill. And damn near had a heart attack!!! HOLY $H!T!!! Then I took a second look and realized that there were extra first time fees on this bill, re-did the math... and breathed a sigh of relief. Much, much better... more in-line with my budget forecast.

On top of that, my truck gave me fits again today, but it appears that the problem may have simply been a loose battery terminal. Gotta love GM products and their asinine way of connecting cables to the battery. I'm to the point that I keep wondering what next. Story of my life...

Gotta Love the Country

First, a little background info about my life. I grew up in a small, rural community. Life as a child was wonderful, with our own fresh veggies from the garden and a freezer full of beef from one of our cattle we slaughtered. I wouldn't trade anything for the experience.

Off to college I went, going to a small city. After that, I moved to the really big city of Houston before settling down in the medium-sized city of Denton. There were things about Denton I loved, like how it still had that quasi-small town feel, but still had places to shop and wonderful restaurants. Crime and traffic were never a problem. Life was still good.

However, things change and do to circumstances somewhat beyond my control, I wound up back in my old hometown. Traffic was even less of a problem and crime, well with nearly everyone keeping a loaded shotgun by the door...

But there are some bad sides, one of which recently reared its ugly head. I'm talking about rumors. Around here it's called "Prairie Wildfire" and it's just as bad, if not worse, than anywhere else. You see, in a rural community, there aren't a lot of of social activities to go to, so people tend to sit around and talk... and talk... and talk. Gossip is the favorite past-time in these parts.

Unfortunately, most of the rumors aren't true. Even more unfortunately, one has been started about me. I won't go into details, but needless to say I'm not happy about it. In addition to being false, it calls into question things that I prize dearly, namely my honor and integrity. I've been relatively quiet about the matter, hoping it will just blow over, but it hasn't. Now enough is enough and I'm fast reaching the point of being fighting mad. And like David Banner, you wouldn't like my when I'm angry.

It's enough to almost make me wish I'd stayed in Denton. I didn't have to deal with this $h!t there. There were more things to do, so people didn't have to pass there time starting rumors.

As seen on...

Not a week goes by that I don't get an e-mail from a friend or acquaintance that tells me how I can get money from AOL, Microsoft, Yahoo! or some other big-name computer industry corporation just by forwarding some e-mail. Obviously these people have never heard of the website www.snopes.com.

What makes it even funnier is that they seem to think that this is a legit scheme because someone claims to have seen it on the "Today" show, or "Nightline," or maybe it was "60 Minutes." It's amazing how gullible some people can be, that just because it supposedly comes from a supposedly reputable source... well, that doesn't always mean it's the gospel truth.

There are Computers and there are...

Friends of mine came over last night with a PC game for my son. Whilst setting everything up, the wife commented on how fast my computer was compared to theirs. I asked how old their PC was, with the answer being about a year or so. Now my computer is over four years old, so it being faster than a much newer computer is something to brag about. So I asked what brand their PC was. I won't mention it hear for fear of corporate lawyers descending en masse, but it was one of the major players. Suddenly everything made sense.

Did I mention that I built my own computer, purchasing the various parts and assembling it? Hence the reason I work on it myself... there's no computer shop that knows as much about this machine as I do.

The problem with the big boys is that they put so much crap on the PC coming out of the factory that it slows it all down. In fact, someone actually came up with a program called "D*** De-Crapifier" for one brand just to get all of the un-needed stuff off. And, on top of that, some of the hardware decisions they make completely confound me. I mean, they'll take a really fast CPU and hamstring it with a slow video card or with minimal memory.

They do this knowing that the average un-informed consumer won't know the difference. They'll just see 3.4 Gigahertz, yada, yada... and be impressed. They don't know that processor speed is just one piece of the puzzle, that you have to put it all together.

Tempting Fate

Alright, everything seems to be falling in line. The move is completed, the truck is fixed, the computer is fixed, etc. I managed to get one day of solitude, which gave me some much needed R&R and allowed the mental pendulum to swing slightly back to the sane end. Three solid days of rain have had the effect of cleansing my mind and soul.

I know, just saying that everything is going well means that all hell is about to break loose...

1.2 Billion Chinese are Mad at Jack Bauer...

... seems like a fair fight.

That's from a list of "Jack Bauer Facts" I got in an e-mail a few months back. Now if you don't know who Jack Bauer is, well, I'm not going to even try and explain. Either you know Jack or you don't know Jack...

For the last few months, life has been so hectic I haven't had a chance to watch my favorite TV shows, which include "24" and all three "CSI"s. Thank God for TiVo!!! So I finally jet around to watching some of the shows and manage to get throught all the episodes of "24." Damn, what an ending!!!

Are the Chinese really that stupid? Or are they really that committed to the whole population control thing? I mean, kidnap Jack and put him on a ship to take him to China. Ah hell, now all you've got is a pissed-off Jack Bauer and 1.2 billion potential targets...

Ah, the Joy of Computers

Well, I finally managed to get my truck fixed after much cursing and many trips back to the parts store. Then my computer decides to die, or at least slip into a coma. All day Friday it would either lock up or spontaneously re-boot. I worked on it all day Friday and into Friday evening, trying various tactics to get it back on its feet. I went to bed Friday with it running a memory test to rule out a problem with the motherboard, processor, or memory.

Woke up this morning with it having passed the memory test with flying colors. OK, so that's not the problem. Stripped it down to the bare essentials and it worked fine. Started adding peripherals and it died. Hmmmm... finally localize the problem and start to make some headway when.... the power goes out. And stays out.

Finally the power comes back on around 18:00. More work on the computer sorting out minor errata till I finally got it all up and running. It's now after midnight, but at least I'm on the 'Net, posting to this blog.

Timing is Everything

I finally get moved into the new house, along with the requisite financial drain that entails, especially all of the deposits that you have to put down. So needless to say I'm having a slight cash flow crisis at the moment, and guess what happens? The AC goes out in my truck. Couldn't have happened four weeks ago or four weeks from now when the crisis would have abated, could it? Nope, it HAD to occur now.

It just proves my version and addendum to Murphy's Law: "Anything that can go wrong, will. And it will occur at the absolute worst time and place."

Just when I thought I could let out a sigh...

... Saturday turns into "one of those days."

Started off getting awakened by the pager going off, dispatching the FD to a brush fire. Out of bed I come, get dressed quickly, and head to the station to pick up a truck. Now that I've moved, I'm at least two-to-three minutes further away, so I expect people to start showing up either before I get there or shortly thereafter. Guess what? No one else shows, it's just me. Great!

As I go enroute, dispatch advises that the reportee has called back and the fire is now one-half acre in size and moving fast. I request a second tone and that Cleveland VFD be dispatched for mutual aid. The fire is app. ten minutes away from the station, so as I drive I listen for additional units. Nothing!! Finally I hear Cleveland go enroute, but with only one on their booster!!! SHIT!!!

Luckily, I finally make location and the half-acre fire is actually no larger than MAYBE 30'x50'. I can handle this myself, so I disregard all other units.

I get home, piddle around the house, take a nap... normal lazy Saturday stuff, until 15:40. We're dispatched to a MVA involving a single motorcycle. I go direct to the location, finding a female lying on her side in the middle off the road with her fellow riders trying to keep her still. I reach behind the seat of my truck for my gear bag to get rubber gloves and... dammit... my gear bag is still at the station from this morning's call. I do a quick sizeup and advise dispatch to put a helicopter on standby pending arrival of the medic unit.

Next arriving unit is a DPS trooper and he thankfully has gloves. He advises to put the chopper in the air NOW and that we'll land it at the scene. Next up is my First Responder truck, followed quickly by the ambulance. I now concentrate on landing the bird. Next in is my Engine, blocking the roadway to setup the LZ. Bird lands and the flight nurse and medic go to the ambulance, where they work on patient for an extended time period, long enough that the chopper kills its engines.

While waiting, we're dispatched to a brush fire on the opposite end of our territory. I send the FR truck back to the station to pick up a booster, but luckily they're disregarded prior to going enroute.

We finish up the MVA/LZ scene and head back to the station. First thing I notice is that my S10 is running hot, the AC isn't working, and my volts are a little low. Well, it had been idling at the scene for over an hour-and-a-half, so I don't sweat it much. In fact, as soon as it starts moving, the temps drop to normal.

But, when I get to the station, smoke pours out of the hood. Not steam, smoke. Pop the hood and the AC compressor clutch is smoking badly. Kill the AC and let it run to cool down the clutch, noticing that the tensioner pulley is about to fall off. DAMN!! Gotta let the truck cool before I can do any work on it, so I go inside to fill out the run report. Just as soon as I sit down, we're dispatched to a report of a two-month-old not breathing. Back in the FR truck I go as we head to this new emergency.

Ambulance is already on location when we get there and I notice the father looks very familiar. His family had had a kitchen fire on Thursday evening and were staying with relatives. Talk about bad luck!! He's not handling it well so I do my best to calm him down. The paramedic then tells me to get a bird in the air and setup the LZ as close as possible. So once more the FD sets up the LZ.

Finally I get back to the station and manage to work on my truck. Replace the tensioner pulley, but the AC compressor clutch is making a horrid noise. But going home it blows cold air, so that's one minor victory. Ran it some yesterday and the more it ran, the quieter it became, so maybe it'll hold out.

Finally got to bed sometime around 23:00, what a day....

Moving on....

Well, after nearly two long years, I'm finally back out on my own. Two years ago, whilst unemployed and in the midst of a bankruptcy and a divorce, I was forced to sell my home and move back in with my parents. Now at the age of thirty-five, in addition to becoming the butt of many jokes, moving in with one's parents is cause to pull your hair out. Luckily, I keep mine cut military-short.

I managed to quickly find another job, but the home search was proving a bit more difficult. Either the homes were dilapidated dumps or they were priced WAY out of my range. Couple in the fact that the bankruptcy made financing exceedingly difficult and things quickly became frustrating. Unfortunately, apartments simply don't exist where I live, so that wasn't an option unless I wanted to move to the neighboring town. Fortunately, my parents were very understanding as I continued on what was quickly becoming, or at least appearing to be, a fruitless search.

Just about the time I was ready to give up and was resigned to the fact that I was going to have to build my home, five new homes were built with one-half mile of my job. More importantly, they were rentals and the monthly lease was within my budget. Yippee!!!

Of course, that meant having to move and all the requisite pain that accompanies the endeavour. Boxes and more boxes, couches, chairs, beds, etc. Trip after trip made between storage and the new home. Then all the unpacking and sorting. Did I mention I keep my hair cut military-short?

But it's done!! Everything is moved, unpacked, and placed where it should be. Que the big sigh of relief...

If it wasn't for bad luck...

... I'd have no luck at all. Doom, despair, and agony on me.

At least it's not me personally, this time. My step-mom's sister had a heart-attack on Monday morning, then this afternoon the same sister's grandchildren were involved in a serious motor vehicle accident, with the youngest being medivac'd out. We're still awaiting word on their condition.

The sister was lucky. She had 90% blockage in one of her arteries, but they were able to do an angioplasty and insert a stint, with no serious damage to the heart. Very lucky.

Someone in that family needs to buy lottery tickets, as they are due a whole lot of good luck. I've bought mine just in case...

With a flick of the switch...

My father has a euphemism relating to the inevitability of death, likening it to the Creator simply flipping a light switch on the wall. Unfortunately, this past week I watched a young woman's switch be turned to off right before my eyes.

I've been a firefighter now for over twenty years, yet nothing prepares you for this... for the sense of helplessness that you feel as you watch someone die, knowing that there is nothing more you can do.

There was a wreck at the local intersection, nicknamed "T-Bone Alley" by a dear friend. I actually heard it from my residence nearly a quarter-mile away. I dressed and went to the scene, only to be confronted with one of the worst accidents I've ever witnessed. A young woman in a Honda Accord had tried to make a left turn in front of a tractor-trailer rig. The rig's driver didn't even have time to react and hit her at full speed on the passenger side. They both then veered off the road, striking a streetlight pole, shearing the whole front of the car off. The young woman was unconscious and barely alive, trapped between the truck's bumper and the driver's door.

I immediately got on the radio and notified dispatch of the wreck, requesting that LEO, EMS, and FD units respond. Those that heard me that night have described the tone of my voice as panicked or desperate. I think a better term would be urgent. I "needed" my guys to get to the scene five minutes ago, for every second counted as this young woman's life slowly ebbed away.

My guys showed up amazing quickly, as did LEO and EMS, and did a fantastic job. They handled themselves in a manner that would make paid departments look bad. And this with an audience of nearly one hundred standing in the adjacent convenience store parking lot watching our every move. If there was anyone who had doubted our department's dedication and professionalism, that should have been erased that night.

But it wasn't enough, it never is...

If life were a hard drive...

My sister-in-law hands me a laptop computer and says, "Fix this for me so I can give it to my mom." Seems the hard drive has a bunch of $h!t on it and is generally borked and she and the sibling have been trying to wipe it and re-install Windows with no success. I mumble something about installing Linux and being done with it, which she didn't find too amusing. Five minutes of looking at it and I've deleted the partition and I've got it re-formatting. Which is why she gave it to me in the first place, she knew I could fix it or it was a rather expensive boat anchor.

But it got me to thinking, would it be nice if life were like a hard drive, where you could just wipe everything clean and start over. Nothing that was messed up before would be left lingering around to mess things up again. Oh the joy if it were that simple!!! Unfortunately the bad things hang around, waiting to jump up and bite you in the ass. Kind of like that porn you thought you deleted...

So hard to say I'm sorry....

... or not.

That's part of being an adult, being a man. Swallowing my pride and owning up for some stupid things I've done is one of the hardest things for me to do, especially when those things occurred during a time when I was less than in control. You see, I'm a control freak, an extreme control freak. I don't even like riding in cars unless I'm driving because I need to be in control.

And I lose control and do something stupid, offending a friend. So the only thing for me to do was to apologize, no matter how embarassing it might be. Just the idea of losing control is embarassing for me, so this doubled my pain. But that's part of being a man. I hold myself to very high standards and one of those standards is taking responsibility for your actions. Much easier said than done...

This Karma thing is starting to blow

OK, not once, but twice this week I've been ready for bed only to have the pager go off dispatching us to a fire. The first was on Sunday night. I had been in bed reading and was just reaching to turn off the light when the tone sounded. Last night, I had just undressed, put on my robe, and sat down in my chair to do a little 'Net browsing when the tones dropped.

DAMN!!!

The guys did a wonderful job with a fully involved workshop fire. Though the contents were destroyed, the structure still stands this morning. Any veteran firefighter will tell you that's one hell of a stop. It makes me proud to see just how far this Department has come in so short a time. It's amazing what a few dedicated individuals can accomplish.

If you would listen...

... then I wouldn't have to yell.

Why is it that some people just refuse to listen? I mean, damn, it gets rather tedious having to tell someone over and over and over and over and over... well, you get my drift.

Unfortunately, as I've already stated, I'm not the most patient person on the planet, so by the fourth or fifth time, I'm getting just slightly annoyed. Well, more than slightly. Veins are bulging on my forehead and neck, my pulse and blood pressure have spiked, and, most importantly, the volume of my voice has at least doubled, if not tripled. Mind you, my voice resonates quite well to begin with, so when I start to yell, people in the next county can hear it. Russian spy satellites set off alarms on occassion.

Of course, then I get the reputation of someone who yells all the time, which is far from the truth. I'm generally a very calm person, who speaks in normal tones, until some 'tard fails to listen... repeatedly.

"Those who do not understand the past...

... are doomed to repeat its failures."

That's a quote every history teacher in the world loves, and hopefully, takes to heart. But somehow we manage to continually repeat the same mistakes over and over. Why? Because we don't understand the past because, for the most part, we could care less about history.

I mean education is about the three Rs right? No where in there do I see history. So history tends to be the red-headed step-child of education, relegated to standing in the corner watching the others feast.

And our society goes right along making the same mistakes, like assuming that just because it is the will of the majority, that it is the right thing to do. Oh my, how history is rife with situations where that was proven false time and time again.

Is it apathy or ignorance that leads us down this slippery descent into hell? I don't know and I don't care...

Statistically Speaking

I should write letters to the Statistics Departments at all of the Ivy League schools and invite them to send their grad students here to study, of all things, me. I'm a statistical anomoly. You would think that with everything that I do, occassionally I would do something right. But no, no matter what it is, I somehow manage to mess it up, every time. I'm talking a 100% efficacy, batting-a-thousand, all the fracking time sort of thing. I am a literal genius at failure. Not once have I done somethng right.

At least if you listen to one certain person....

It's all about me...

Anyone that knows me can tell you that I freely admit that I'm opinionated, arrogant, and incredibly competitive. They'll tell you that I can either be the most patient person in the world or that I can lose it in an instant, depending on the situation.

I lose it quickly under two situations: when someone attacks my or my family's integrity and honor or when I'm dealing with idiots.

Don't question my sense of honor and duty or my moral integrity. Don't question my family's either... that will bring out the demon in me and it is not a pretty sight. My temper is legendary and you will feel it's full wrath.

Idiots beware also. If you should know better, if you've been taught, told, or shown the correct way to do things (especially if it's been multiple times) and still insist on f'ing things up... realize that I have a glare that can melt steel and a tongue that could singe the sun. Be warned and be very afraid.

This message was brought to you as a public service...

Like a deer in the headlights...

Ever been placed in a situation where your heart stops beating for a second, then damn near thumps out of your chest. A time when everything you fear could possibly go wrong, when everything that has to fall into place at just the right moment and place, somehow horribly does. And your caught standing there with your pants figuratively around your ankles...

And when its over, all you can do is give a little laugh to relieve the tension. Life tends to do that to you, but you've just got to get back up and venture out onto the highway again. And watch out for speeding cars...

Rain, glorious rain

Finally we're getting meaninful amounts of precipitation. After weeks, even months, of little to no rain, we've managed to get several solid days of the wet stuff. So maybe now the burn ban will be off and the danger of wildfires will diminish substantially. Finally...

It's been so dry that virtually the whole damn state has been under a burn ban. We've already run 43 calls in 19 days. That's busy...

So let it rain, let it pour...

Waaaasssaaaabbbiiii..........

Spent the evening with someone who is very dear to me, shopping for a dishwasher. Yep, you heard right... a dishwasher. We went to three different stores looking at the various brands and the various features each had, before settling on one. This is the difference between men and women. Women will pay very close attention to the various features. Men have one question, "Will it wash the frackin' dishes?" If the answer is yes, load it up. I was astonished to find that not one single brand had a dishwasher that would unload itself, placing the dishes in your cupboard. We can place a man on the moon, but can't create a dishwasher with that simple feature. Priorities people, PRIORITIES!!!!!

Afterwards, we went for sushi. She and I are the only people in our circle of friends and family that likes to partake of raw fish. So in my mind that makes us perfect for one another....

The sushi bar was good. There was a sushi chef that was eating huge balls of wasabi. I don't know how he was doing it. I can eat jalapenos without batting an eye, but wasabi is another beast entirely. I tried a thumb-sized chunk and burned off all of my nasal folicles. I'm sincerely worried about going to the restroom later.

Don't ever try the squid... nasty stuff. Luckily, they served a decent sake that washed that vile taste out of my mouth, or at least made me forget the episode entirely....

On the subject of sheeple...

Here's one I've never managed to figure out, why someone would pay double or triple the price for a simple t-shirt or sweatshirt, with the only exception that it has some company's name written on it. I saw it several years ago with Abercrombie & Fitch and BUM. Mow I see it with Hollister.

Man, the marketing directors at these companies are frackin' geniuses. I can imgaine the discussion in the boardrooms of these companies: "Ya' see, we don't have to spend a penny on advertising, we'll get dumbass teenagers to PAY US for the honor of advertising our products!" "No way, teenagers aren't that stupid!" "Yes they are, just you wait and see."

And they are. Simple t-shirts are not enough, they go to a store that for some reason all their friends believe is the newest, hippest place and pay for some t-shirt with the name of the store on it. Brainless sheeple, following the herd...