The Unfriendly Skies

Remember when as a child you were told the story of Chicken Little? It seems Chicken Little was always afraid the sky was falling. Talk about phobias!! What would that be called in our know- all world? Well sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction as a Stewardess for some commuter airlines was taken off a plane at Lexington's Blue Grass Field for reeking of alcohol and then telling the Pilot "You're Dead" , as he had her escorted off the plane. Her blood alcohol was later shown at something like .035, which isn't legally drunk in Kentucky. I think she's still in jail under some Homeland Security threat. Maybe she was just having a bad day, but I certainly wouldn't want my 45 minute trip to Atlanta to be overseen by a looped lady giving out pretzels and soft drinks. It gives new meaning to flying the friendly skies. Or not long ago the stewardess was fired for having sex with that strange Finnes guy in the toilet. They had to be young and bendable to even attempt that. Now that is friendly. I didn't know that was an option in first class , but it got my attention. No wonder those fat cats pay so much money for the bigger seats. I was boarding at LaGuardia one time and the first seat was occupied by the Reverand Al Sharpton. Man ,that little tubby guy is so short that his highly polished black Guccis were 6 inches from the floor. He looked like a little ,dressed up fat lad whose mother was sending him visiting by first class. His gigantic,waxed -up pompadour nearly touched the ceiling however. He got off at Detroit , I'm sure to stir up racial discontent and spew venomous diatribes against all social injustices. I think his discontent stems from being so short, something of a Napoleonic Complex, but I digress at Al's expense. Lately we have been hearing of Nasa Pilots flying and reporting for duty drunk. And what about the fruitcake lady astronaut who wore the diaper in Florida to kidnap the other astronaut?? She certainly did personify taking that giant leap for mankind!! What is it with these quacks? They've devoted their lives to training and discipline and end up like amateurs on the world's worst tv show. What's next ;will our Astronauts be on with Flavor Flav on MTV? Won't that be comical as Would-be John Glenns will be wearing those stupid clocks around their necks and having diamond teeth??
I would like our astronauts and pilots to keep their public appearances straight. Now I know those astronauts have always been rambunctious because I saw The Right Stuff and read The Wild Blue, but these boys and girls need to keep their hormones and chemical dependencies under better control. Then there was the private contractor who deliberately sabatoged a computer going to the space station. It seems that in reality the airline travel industry and NASA are closer to the Airplane movie than they are to anything else. At a time that the United States needs confidence in the safety of our skies our professionals are doing everything they can to incite fear in the traveling public. Look, guys and girls , if you have a propensity and aptitude to drink and play grab ass on the job , then why don't you consider running for US Senate and Representative jobs because that would be a match made in heaven? I want my flight crews to be straight as an arrow. I'm still open to the first class sex, but I'll need a bigger bathroom.

Technology

Today is Sunday the 5th of August and the whole United States is in a major heat wave.We went to an open house in Russell Springs for a branch bank dedication. Now we have been building and installing this facility since early spring, and who would have thought that the open house would have shown 98 degrees on the thermometers? I know it was 98 because Sandy's car's info panel said it was that hot and showed us heading North. Who would have ever thought our cars would become so smart? I remember when you ordered an AM radio or not. If I want we can subscribe to Onstar and it will notify the authorities if your air bags deploy, or it will unlock your doors if someone leaves the keys in the ignition. In like manner it will track your car if someone steals the thing. I have resisted the $300 or so yearly fee because noone steals 4 year old Impalas, and I'm afraid the little woman might call Sandy and tell her some of the places I have been taking the car. As I thought about this technology it became obvious of how our cars talk to us telling when we need oil changes, or that we need to "service engine soon". Our cars tell us when our washer fluids are low, or even when a tire is lower than the other three. I suddenly thought how wonderful if our bodies could evolve and we would have little message centers in our bellies that would diagnose problems , or tell us we needed maintenance.This little screen could be where our belly buttons are; some women pierce them anyway for decoration. In my own system the screen would keep a running total of my blood pressure and maybe my body temperature. Like a car , it could flash a code of flashing lights that would display what the problem is. The cheaper models like I would buy, would , like most cars have a port that your doctor would insert a reader to tell what the problem was. Mr. Goodwrench has been doing this to your car for years.In my case there would be a flashing yellow screen saying"SEE PHYSICIAN SOON". It probably would tell him it was time for blood work or butt work. If you didn't check on the problem in a timely manner a warning bell would come wringing from somewhere in your body cavity.It wouldn't(or maybe won't )be long until Apple came up with an I-pod telephone system that would allow you to pull your little finger on your right hand and make or take calls, probably through a dorky little integrated blue tooth. I'm still working on instant messaging. Do these dumb-asses know how dorky they look walking down the street , ear-piece ablaze? I often travel with my cell in my front pocket and often have near death experiences as I'm momentarily startled by the loud wringing in my tight pockets, buckled in at 10 miles above the speed limit. I've grown to detest cell phones and what they have taken from humanity. I despise the cute songs and messages people personalize their phones with.What is wrong with a ring? Mine rings but it's so loud because I can't hear.Everyone has their phones out taking pictures, making movies ,or reading e-mail and instant messaging. Hell I have trouble just getting mine out of my pocket.I remember when I would travel for miles looking for a phone booth, remember those.? They either were always torn up or there was no book, or I didn't have the change. All this instant communication has its downside, you cannot get away from people. There are honestly days that I want to stop the truck and place my phone under the 16 inch front tire and slowly run over the thing. I think the chrunching sound would be most gratifying, especially if I did it with certain people talking on the other end. Do you think this would give them a headache?I guess I'm going to sketch out my bionic message center idea and apply for a patent. The Borgs had all this on Star Trek and it seemed to work well. You'd have to be a Trekkie to understand.I'm a little worried that Sandy would read my message center while I'm lying paralyzed in my easy chair after work. The thing would probably have a playback mode of the whole day. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. That is all supposing that she even has an interest in what I've been doing. It wpould be more painful if I found she hadn't checked on my activity.Noone cares what 58 year old men do but the IRS.

Some Kind Of Relief

Well tonight was the first Thursday of August, whereas I go monthly at 6:30 PM to attend my sworn duty as an elected member of Stanford's City Council. I knew better when I ran the last time , but was on Diovan so my frivolous behavior must be excused. There is probably nothing more frustrating than serving in such a capacity , especially in a little village of 3000 people. Most of the other 5 members I can get along with ,and genuinely like. I said most. Tonight I came home and put on Rod Stewart Live at Albert Hall, and listened to it very loudly. Somehow "Hot Legs" at Nascar levels has a cathartic effect.How can someone like Rod Stewart continue to be so successful at his age? He's still as good as when he first sang Maggie. Maybe better. It's so fascinating that the long legged girls singing with him weren't even born when he did Gasoline Alley.Somehow all the frustrations of the past month come to a head during city council, much like a massive , ugly pimple ready to erupt in putrid violence upon the unsuspecting masses. I do know with certainty that I will not be able to swear the oath about not having partaken of a duel after this year. WE went to The Brickyard 400 this past Sunday, and Jimmy Johnson crashed and went down in flames, much to the delight of the crowd. Tony Stewart went on to win and was fined for saying a jubilant"Bullshit" on National TV. He was fined $25000 for the slip-up.I'm glad they're not following me at work because I would be fined over $1 million before 9 AM on any given morning.The Nascar crowd was at its usual colorful best, mostly a youthful under 30 to maybe 40; mostly drunk on blue cans of beer and smoking lots of cigarettes. Directly below me was a chubby, bubblebutted lass with tight, tight big butted jeans, mabe size 18s with her lower back tattoo strategically peeking out. She was maybe 22 or so years old and would probably have blown a .2 0n the machine, but that would have been moderate for her colleagues who were Junior No. 8 fans. The young lads were all baby faced and chubby with their caps turned backwards in a rakeish manner. I hope they got home ok, but maybe they sobered up in the 2 hour wait as 250,000 spectators left Indiana. Actually the best show is watching the fans as they stream outpast the stopped traffic.Nearly everyone has on their racer's numbers or colors. Most are Tony, Jeff Gordon, Or Dale Junior. Don't believe those commercials with the babes after Kasey Kayne . Kasey is about as popular as a Toyota at Bristol. These fans stumbling to their cars are in every drunken state ever invented by mankind. One just keeps falling to the ground, another pees on a neighborhood fence while the owners watch. Hell he may have been the owner. One lad has eaten his giant turkey leg and has it sitting on top of his car. Massive numbers have colorful sunburns from sitting drunk in the relentless sun. Sandy Kay went for her first race and came through unscathed, at least physically. I think Timmy had his eyes on young bubblebutt but was inhibited by the fact that she was 40 years younger than him. Dave slept through part of the race. I think he missed last year's ugly girl that he befriended. In hind sight I felt better surrounded by a quarter million boisterous drunks at Indy than at City Council Tonight.The drunks made a lot more sense. Wake up Maggie I've got something to say to you. Thanks Rod and hot legged girls.

I Just Don't Understand

Well Paris is out of jail ,and now that limited talent Lindsey Something has been picked up DUI for the second time in less than a week.At least there is something of great importance for all the news people to talk about. With the current world situation , is there nothing more newsworthy than having to listen about the antics of alcoholic adolescents?? Even old mean spirited Rosie and Comb-over Trump were mildly amusing. I guess my point is that this country is full of intoxicated , spoiled brats, so why glorify them?? Even Obama has little dirty songs about his run for President, and there is a cute Lesbian Ditty about Hillary.My boys the Republicans are so boring and ugly that noone bothers. The most rise out of a Republican camp is Fred Thompson's almost babe wife, but standing next to Fred Thompson even Rosie or Barbara Walters might look appealing. Now Pretty Boy Edwards is promising to help all poor folks as he nods that $4oo haircut. I'm sure his Empathy is genuine as he returns occasionally to his North Carolina Mansion gotten from suing hospitals and physicians. Give it up John Al Gore could beat you--In North Carolina. They say Newt is stirring ,is this all the Republicans can threaten with?Rudy has a lot of baggage with three wives and Bernard Karik, But America has shown itself to love a two timing cad. Remember Bubba?? And Chubby girls with stained dresses?? Maybe that is why we're idolizing Brittany, Lindsey, and Paris!!We are really missing Bubba Clinton and the Whitehouse Whores!! Or are we missing Weeping Paul Patton and his famous crying ," I have sinned." confession on live TV. Politicians seem to be weaker than most men when it comes to whores. All of Washington is shaking with fear as the Madam and Larry Flynt are going after the hypocrits that partook of the girls. Couldn't happen to a better bunch. Remember Gary Condit?? Chandra Leavy?? What about Ted Kennedy? Mary Jo Kopeckni?Looks like politicians 2, dead girls 0. What is it with power , whores, and politicians??But then ministers seem to like whoring around as well . Jim Baker, Jimmy Swaggert, and that dope using , gay loving what's his name from out in the midwest?Some of these guys make David Duke look wholesome. Other good news: Michael Vick. How stupid can one human be??Dog fights?? And the pro basketball ref, betting on the games he officiated in??Makes Pete Rose look like the Pope.We cannot control hollywood whores and pro sports ,how in the hell can we believe we can control 11 million illegal aliens, defeat terrorists, and make the middle East into democracy??How can anyone in the world seriously hate the country that gives us Nancy Grace, Bill O'Reilly, and Alec Baldwin?Whoopi Goldberg. How seriously can we take someone named Whoopi? One thing you can always count on in this country of ours, whenever there is a crisis the cream always rises to the top to make us proud. Think Dixie Chicks. They really helped their career as well as motivating country music America. It makes me proud to have all these people leading us as we plod along in middle income America.

In A New York Minute

In early April Sandy Kay and I went to NYC to celebrate her birthday. My brother and his wife went with us as they had never toured the city. Flying into LaGuardia from Louisville was uneventful as the youthful US Air crew had us touched down in an hour and a half. I'm always amazed at the pilots and co-pilots these days for their youthful appearances. The pilot on this flight looked maybe 25. I wondered if maybe he honed up his skills between flights on the latest video games, or maybe if he still lived at home with mom and dad? Either way he touched down like a feather and thanked us for flying US Air. I've grown to like the little commuter jets except for having to debark out on the runway and walking up steps to the terminal. Luggage pickup was a snap ,as I saw our old trusty Wal-Mart carry- on come limping around the carousel. Have you ever noticed everyone has the same size bag with red ribbons tied on for identification? I think there is some logic in packing along a cheap looking bag,as the gorillas go after the more expensive Louis Vuitton luggage, real or fake. Our nicer luggage has been destroyed over several flights and old Wal-Mart, like the energizer bunny just keeps on going. The Cab ride to Mid-town was remarkably smooth and efficient, unlike the typical near death trips that we have experienced in the past. I came to the conclusion that if I'm slated to depart this life in a car wreck, it will be 750 miles from Stanford in some part of Manhattan in a bright yellow cab with an alien driver . I hope he doesn't get his $40 fare. We bought a 7 day pass for the sub-way and went hell bent for leather doing the tourist thing. Statue of Liberty was impressive on a partly cloudy day in the upper sixty degrees. As usual there were crowds of school children on tours. One particular group of high school girls all dressed uniformly with tight hip hugger jeans and thong bands peeking out of the tops of their slacks. Generally about a couple of inches of butt was exposed , which obviously was the intent. I felt about 85 years old....Our next trip was up the Empire State Building to the observation deck .For $18 you can see the world. I think that Peter Minuet and the Dutch got their $24 worth . Looking towards Central Park to the north, I am reminded of all the trips through there as we've visited Strawberry Fields and John Lennon's monument by Yoko . The next day we go downtown and walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, an experience that everyone should do. The pedestrian walkway is a story above the automobiles and there is a lane for bicyclists.Sometimes unwary tourists wander into the biker's lane and must flee for their lives as bikers come speeding along on their expensive carbon fiber bikes. They have a shrill whistle to warn dumbasses from Kentucky out of their way. Its about a 45 minute walk across, but takes longer just for frequent stops looking back at Manhattan , the other bridges, or the statue of Liberty.
Built in the 1880's by Roebling, the bridge, like the Golden Gate is a national treasure. I couldn't help but reflect on the thousands who fled across the bridge as the 9.11 events changed our lives, even over 700 miles away. That day we were all New Yorkers.Roebling also designed the bridge going across the Ohio River at Covington , also in the 1880s. He was not alive but his son completed the bridge. Perhaps the definitive moment for me this trip was near Columbus Circle as this chubby black man lounged on a park bench with a cardboard placard. His sign read,"Need Money to get drunk so that 2 women can take me home and molest me. Donations accepted." Only in New York!I guess I envied him. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the park as yuppies ran and exercised on the trails during lunch. Everywhere as usual were dogs,dogs, and more dogs, all well behaved like their masters, only wanting to share a bit of the outdoors with 7 million other people.As we departed the last vision I had of Times Square was the Naked Cowboy in his usual spot between the busy traffic, his white BVDs glowing like a beacon. He has to have a woman to keep his drawers that white!! Any normal male would have already washed his drawers in with socks or jeans . I know that from experience. Leaving Mid-town behind, our Egyptian Cabdriver proved as reckless and dangerous as any I've ever seen. We were approaching 75 before we crossed the bridge. My sister-in -law later confided she became sick and was tempted to get in the rear floor board. I wouldn't recommend that as you never never know what has been left there. Myself, I kind of felt like Captain Kirk as he said," Take us out of here Mr. Sulu". Viva New York!

The Day the Music Died

Lately our neighboring city of Danville , Kentucky has been having problems of sorts with the insidious evil of singers in the local restaurants daring to sing Karoke. Now anyone born and bred in Boyle County knows that singing Karoke in a restaurant will make you go blind or worse. How a town liberal enough to have Centre College and a wonderful arts program could get so far off track is beyond me. It appears that the overzealous watcher -woman of alcohol in the restaurants had noticed a disturbing pattern developing whereas people would have a couple of beers with a meal ,and heaven forbid, want to get up and sing or even dance. The scary part of the story is that the city council almost bought into the show until statewide press coverage started ridiculing the whole city(rightly so, I might add.)This should come as no surprise to anyone who has gone to the Norton Center for plays or concerts and watched indignant blue hairs rise from their seats in protest at perceived improprieties. A viewing of "Rent" really gets their old bloomers in a wad. Swan Lake is their speed. Now I must admit that a couple of outings to the local Renos can be a real adventure on a Saturday night, but even trailor people have to have entertainment. It seems that walking on peanut shells brings out the worst in people. I have to say that on a given weekend night all the ugly women from Casey and Marion County meet at Renos for love connections and beer. Feed Bubba enough beer and these girls look better all the time . The men are Larry the Cable Guy without his intelligence; you get the picture.The most ironic thing is that Danville has the largest Brass Band festival in the U.S., which coincidentally is this weekend. Why the blue bloods hate Karoke and dancing ,and love brass bands is beyond me. Some of the old hatchetfaces last danced the minuet, so maybe the brass band is more their style. In defense of the dance haters, the dancing isn't exactly Al Pachino doing theTango in The Scent of a Woman, rather its more like chubby women doing the John Travolta/Uma Thurman twist in Pulp Fiction.I personally can't get into Tuba toters coming down mainstreet .That type of music , like Bluegrass just doesn't appeal to my ears. Now if those boys could get down to"Vehicle" by the Ides of March, then I might just listen awhile. Maybe those fat guys from New Orleans could play "Vehicle." I think they're the Olympic Band or something .Speaking of dumb closer to home, one of my faves on the Stanford City Council has been gifted with a new vision. He wants to go to Shelbyville and exhume the body of Stanford's founder, Benjamin Logan, and bring it to Stanford and rebury him in the Courthouse lawn. I think he suffers from a chemical imbalance in his body. I personally want to bring Anna Nicole Smith's body from the Bahamas and place in in our new First Southern Veterans Park.Think of the tourists. Or we could go to Paris(France) and steal Jim Morrison's bones. We could sing "Light My Fire" and maybe even draw some of the fat girls from Danville. I keep forgetting we don't have legal alcohol in Stanford. We're real wet ,but the government just doesn't collect taxes from the bootleggers.Every year the bloods and yuppies in Danville have a big concert I think on Saturday night,and rent tables. They decorate them in themes for prizes. This year I suggest someone dresses like the trailor people and act like Karoke.Scatter peanut shells around your table and I guarantee instant winner. This week has the stars , like the Age Of Aquarius, spaced in perfect alignment. Bob Barker did his last quiz show and poor little Paris went to jail.Lindsay is maybe in rehab, and trashy Brittany is growing her hair back. Can you imagine what those dumbasses Arabs think when they tune in to American TV and news??No wonder they're trying to hurt us!!Maybe we ought to tune in to Danville's Renos on Saturday night. Fat dancing, drunken women from Yosemite couldn't hurt anything. Just let them continue to sing and dance.

State of my Union

It suddenly dawned on me driving from Virginia this week that like the President and Governor of Kentucky, I , too have a state of my union. Unlike the astute gentleman, however, I don't have a chamber of Dignified Senators and Representatives cheering me on.First of all I must recant an earlier oath I took upon being sworn in as a City Councilman. It's that silly assed part about never fighting in a duel or being a second to anyone else in the duel. In my earlier days of education and gamemansship on the athletic field , we would often limp off bleeding and more bruised than if we had engaged in a sissy-assed duel like Burr and Hamilton. I always hold one hand behind my back, fingers crossed as I imply my non dueling status. You can't live on Helm Street without at least calling out some of the rogues. My title on the council is "The Obnoxious One". Self proclaimed at that. I took my mother to the Doctor for a check-up and she goes to Liberty for medical care. My first thought was "third world Country", but she thrives on the people there. My second thought was that the world was having "Ugly People Day " at the clinic. These people had all been ridden hard and put up wet. I think if you visited a clinic in Siberia or Czechslovakia you would have seen the same people. Everyone was coughing and slinging bodily fluids indiscriminately throughout the waiting area. I think there was a distinct possibility of contracting the bird flu in the area. To top off the visit this fruit cakey woman started talking to my mother about "her accident". Seems she was run over in a Wal-Mart with a fork lift and damaged her "cerebellum, her words , not mine . She progressed from her story to crying. Following us out to the car she told of having to take pills to go to sleep and then taking pills to wake up. We left her standing tearfully on the sidewalk. It was most therapeutic.,as she told me she used to think I was good looking. I couldn't help but ask about how I looked now. She didn't answer. Not a good sign when even the Bi-polars won't answer you. I had an equally gratifying time the other night at the Republican meeting. There is this young lad Lawyer who is like all others of his profession who will not act upon anything without a week of deliberation and consultation with others of his breed. What ever happened to free thought and making decisions. Lawyers have to share with insurance companies the blame for most of the bad things in our country. Most attorneys today cannot have sex with their wives or husbands without consultation with their law partners. If they do manage to eke out a little pleasure then they will bill their mate just out of habit. Lawyers are the major make-up of the economy, and have singlehandedly made malpractice suits the reason we can't have medical care at reasonable rates in this country. Talk about weeping over cerebellums, Lawyers don't have courage to make any kind of decisions except after long deliberations. Lawyers were the driving force of the American Revolution and it makes me wonder how they ever got enough concensus to band together and fight. Don't even talk to me about political correctness. In my present state of the union I have no PC. The past two days I got a bucket of grey hair cut off, three teeth filled, and my eyes tested. New glasses will be ordered.Last year I had butt work and the gout. Things will only get worse. I'm not so happy at the moment that I gave my state of the union address. Sometimes it's not so wise to dwell on such things. I want to go to Key West and sit on Duvall street or watch the sunset off Mallory Square. I have a woman who loves me and a Brother-in -law who is divorced . I am going to start celebrating the anniversary of his divorce since he always sends us cards and nice gifts for our anniversary. I'm going to get him a gift certificate with some Casey County hookers to celebrate this year's event .Can't hurt. I know he misses the Skinny Marlboro smoking girls from Williamson, the ones who lived on the side of the mountain in the manufactured home. Sorry, I just realized that I crossed over into Timmy's State of the Union. May all of our cerebellums be happy ones!

Please hurry Spring

Yesterday there were horrific tornados in the South, and Enterprise, Alabama was especially hard hit with a school ripped apart. Several students were killed. I don't think I can comprehend the anguish and grief that such a random act of nature can bring about. I have been through Enterprise several times and it was always a bustling little Southern town bolstered by the raucous sounds of hundreds of US Army helicopters flying overhead and landing from nearby Ft. Rucker. It seemed that spring was always a month or so ahead of us here in Kentucky as we snuck down I-65 towards Destin or Panama City. This is only a drop in the bucket compared to Mississippi and Biloxi, but along with Florida, the South must feel itself cursed. Spring in the South brings on azaleas and other fragrant shrubs. Savannah, Georgia has I think something like 28 perfectly square parks with statues and beautiful flowers that bloom in early spring. When James Oglethorpe laid out the city, he made sure there were gorgeous little pieces of paradise for the citizenry to retreat to after stressful days. One of my favorite memories of Savannah is seeing a huge orange and white Coast Guard helicopter come floating down the Savannah River, all young crewmen hanging out the doors and windows, only 4 or 5 feet above the muddy water. Their turbulance and backwash from the powerful rotors was blowing up the short skirts of the pretty tourist girls walking along the cobbled-stoned walkways of the water front. Certainly a sight old Olglethorpe could have never envisioned.In equal fashion I have been in panhandle Florida in February diving Ginny Springs in radiant mid seventy degree temperatures, only to call back home to find 8 inches of snow and ice in Kentucky. We have cavorted with the manatees in Crystal River and swam in the near unlimited visibility of The Blue Grotto, a deep cave/spring west of Gainesville.It's hard to imagine that only 500 miles south will make such a difference. Spring in Kentucky is often a cold, damp, miserable affair. The Ohio Valley is notorious for fickle weather. Today it is very windy with low 60's. Tomorrow it is forecast for mid 30's with a chance of snow. The bad news is the deep south is expecting more severe weather. Just ask the severe weather expert , Dr. Greg Forbes. I don't know which depresses me the most, weather forecasters or the weather itself. The only breaking news at the moment is maybe they'll bury Anna Nicole some time soon. Can you believe they took time out from Brittany to describe Anna's burial gown??All of February has been inundated with Brittany and Anna, the shows lately have gotten sidetracked on Al Gore's utility bills(20 times the national average). Do you care??3100 have been killed in Iraq and 22000 injured. Walter Reed seems to have had a severe lapse in care, and a two star general has lost his position. Soldiers are still getting killed, yet we as the citizenry feast on the sweet milk of trashy harlots in Hollywood. Is this denial or an escape mechanism? Now don't misinterpret my message. I think we are fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq for what our lives have come to mean. I think we need to take out the short clown of Iran , as well as his little buffoon in Venezuela. Maybe Castro won't last until summer. We can only hope spring comes to our country and warm , moderate weather returns.The croccus are blooming,as well as the earliest daffodils. Daytona was won by Kevin Harvick, and March Madness is once again upon us. Maybe college basketball can wash away the stagnancy of the Hollywood crowd and their endless frivolity.I think I need a change of climate as everything is starting to wear on my nerves. Maybe working for 29 years is long enough. Changes in attitude and changes in latitude. Good times and riches and sons of bitches. If we couldn't laugh we'd all go insane. Jimmy Buffett lives in eternal spring, something money allows one to do. But then again Aruba has three seasons: Last summer, this summer,and next summer. That would be pretty boring. The Garden of Eden sometimes has to have diversity. The Garden of Eden was located in Mesopotamia , between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, near Baghdad.Ironic isn't it? Please hurry Spring.

A Busy Place Indeed

Well, friend Dave won his race for magistrate here in Lincoln County, and he and his partner Big John try to operate a business here in the middle of Stanford, Kentucky. I say try because it seems their office has become the hot spot for all the movers and shakers to congregate. Before the election friend and foe would meet there under often ,uneasy truce to get election news. Now that the election is over these people are still coming by and making use of the facilities. What's more, there is an ever growing legion of malcontents that drop by to gossip. Dave seems to draw these citizens like honey attracts flies. I have seen the past mayor there more often than Dave. He seems to grow scarce as the doughnuts decline. I was trying to give Dave advice for his election ,and quite frankly that was met with limited, or no success. Dave never wanted to tell the public about the short comings of his opponents;quite the opposite, he wanted to be nice to them. Trying to guide any facet of Dave's life is akin to keeping blacksnakes in a shallow bowl. Dave even wrote a nice letter in the paper praising his vanquished opponents. He needs to read "The Prince" by Machiavelli , but Lord help him, it would need to have illustrations to keep his attention.The crew has gone to NYC with Dave several times ,and he is constantly making exciting things happen. There was the time in the Port Authority that Dave got into an impromptu Doo-Wop concert with a toothless panhandler wanting money. He and Dave sang a song and the Port Authority people nearly ran us all off.Woody, being the tight wad, was singing in the background because he felt the panhandler would ask him for money. Woody is famous as the only person to view the Radio City Christmas show completely covered in sugar from white doughnuts. Back to Dave he bonded with Mr. Lee ,a doubledecker tour bus driver who seemed to have dents in improbable places on his bright red bus.Dave also felt obligated to tell about Tim and Rita eating weird things in China Town, something I have observed on occasion myself. I saw Timmy eat Conch fritters, conch burgers , conch chowder, and conch pasta while in the Bahamas. I didn't see them eating those gross ducks that you see hanging naked in China Town , you know the ones with the gangly neck three feet long , proudly on display behind the dirty plate glass windows. While in New york Dave does not like to walk, and needs frequent rest, something about chaffing and the need for Gold Bond. Once in NYC we all passed within touching distance of Slick Willy Clinton . Dave was beside himself as Clinton has to be his true political icon. He is the only mature adult in his right mind that confessed, and even bragged about going to Arkansas with the express purpose of visiting the Clinton Library. Dave also talks a lot to everyone and buys Chapstick by the case. We have a photo of him applying the slimy balm to his little blue lips ,the Statue of Liberty standing proudly behind him.Dave in all fairness is almost like family as we have been partners on real estate , and have known each other a long time. When we would work on a shared lake cabin, Dave would don a sweat band and curse me because I would get paint or caulk on the tools. He would then disappear for 3 hours on the guise of cleaning the tools. While he was gone I would finish the job. Now do you see why he is a successful politician?He is a idea man , something that evidentally goes back to his days with IBM. Last summer he mentioned that his tractor hadn't been started for nearly a year. I told him I could start it and he said I couldn't. Well I did in about half an hour and he said it was a freak thing and I was "lucky". You know the blind pig and nubbin of corn syndrone. I think Dave is going to do a good job as magistrate because he was previously a school board member. I bought a calf at a school fall festival in an effort to help Dave. It worked because he won. I guess that in the world of politics there have to be politicians and their strategists.Trouble is Dave doesn't listen to advice. Crawdad won in Clay County and my friend won in Lincoln. As William Tecumseh Sherman once said"War is hell!"

Red Mud

Today I had to go to Somerset with Lois Lane to lay out a teller line in this new bank we're doing. Now normally a tellers line is pretty simple and fits like a rectangle between two walls, but this line is semi-circular in the front and arcs out toward the lobby. The boys who are building the bank have a corresponding soffit overhead that must match the counter below, hence the CAD produced lifesized pattern. Lois Lane is our secret weapon in that she is a computer whiz, and you have to be able to type to use CAD. CAD by the way is computer assisted drafting. Over the years I have drawn enough plans by hand for the lead tracks to maybe reach the moon, but not much anymore since it is increasingly difficult to buy the proper tools and supplies. It appears that like the dinosaur my mediocre talents are fast becoming extinct and unnecessary. To enter the bank we had to go through a sea of slimy red Pulaski County mud that defies removing from my shoes. In the ensuing layout on the sub floor plywood I also ended up with the red clay on the knees of my slacks, but not to worry, this does not bother me. What would have bothered me would have been dirt on my shirt. Most of the time I am not particular about my shoes or slacks , but I worship 100% cotton shirts laundered professionally with heavy, heavy starch. I want my long-sleeved , button collared oxford cloth shirts to crackle if someone accidentally bumps into me. Don't ever try to talk me into a cotton blend no iron affair. It's not a real shirt. Polo has become my favored brand, but the ones with the little pony generally don't have a pocket, which leaves me no choice but to put cell-phone, pens , money ,etc. in my pants pockets.The one advantage is that no chest pocket means no leaked ink in the starched pocket of a $75 shirt. I want to be able to take off my shirt and it will stand on the floor from the starch. Anything less is unacceptable. Did you ever see those dorky guys selling insurance wearing polyester JC Penny short sleeved dress shirts with a polyester ugly necktie? Most of these guys will have a plastic pocket protector. Engineers are bad about this. Some engineers will have 3 or 4 pens and pencils in their pocket protectors. Nerds. Speaking of pens I am also fanatically inclined to use my Montblanc LeGrand no. 162 rollerball. That's the big one. If I have to explain you wouldn't understand. It reminds me of Marc Cohn singing about his dad, the man with the plan and the pocket comb. Does anybody still carry combs? I have grown infatuated with Thomas Pink shirts, made in Ireland. They just seem wonderful to me, but most are cut too tight and fitted for my rapidly growing stomach. They have the most beautiful fabrics and patterns. They also cost upwards of $300 only at the better stores. I'm trying to temper my infatuation with the things. I'm still undecided about french cuffs, which many of the better shirts have. Somehow it seems inappropriate to be scooting across a muddy construction site in Brooks Brothers or Burberry. It also helps if your shoes are shined, something impossible to retain plodding through drywall dust and fresh mortar. Sandy is always on me about unshined shoes. Well by now the red clay has hardened to concrete firmness on my Sketchers, but my shirts are unscathed. I will mention that at times a 2 or 3 hour car trip to customers or sites will entail at least half or more on the cell phone. Talk about dangerous. I've found the most reliable way to retain new phone numbers is to write it on your hand. I have also found that Montblanc Document blue ink will not come easily off of old wrinkled hands. It is embarrassing to go into a construction meeting with numbers written all over your lower arms. The participants of the meeting question whether the man with the dirty shoes is autistic. They at least think someone dresses him in stiff,crackly shirts. I hate it when my pocket rings, but that is another story. Sometimes like Icarus, I get excited and fly too close to the sun.

Here I Am

Well here we are on the 20th of February , 2007 and again I find myself laboriously pounding away one-fingeredly on this self-centered tale of boredom and disallusionment. At this moment Tubby and his Cats are getting pounded by LSU at Rupp. They may somehow still pull it out, but who cares at this stage. They are earnestly trying to lose four in a row, this time to a mediocre team without "Big Baby". I guess Randolph Morris "can't get his head into the game"again. Somehow Big Blue losing 4 in a row in the SEC is like baking a cake and leaving out the three whole eggs. I went to Sparta , Tennessee today andfled across Wolf Ceeek Dam again as they keep dropping the level in fear of breakage. As we speak the level of Cumberland Lake is 680 feet above sea level. THe Corps of Engineers says it will keep it at this level until September when it will consider whether to drop it further. Normal summer pool is 723 feet above sea level. The lake is 43 feet lower than tourists and boaters like. Nearly all the ramps are above the lake and new ones are hurriedly being poured, too late I fear. Coupled with $4 a gallon dock gas and the greatly diminished lake surface, these next 7 years promises to be catastrophic to central Kentucky's tourist dollars. Already touted as the houseboat capital of the worlde Somerset, Monticello , and Russell Springs had better have better markets for these floating mansions than Lake Cumberland. I . in a weaker moment once agreed with Sandy to get into the Houseboat business and we purchased one. Now this boat was hardly in the category of these modern floating palaces, but it perhaps matched what we were used to at home. It was a 54 foot Sumerset of 1978 vintage and was about as worn out and dilapidated as the rest of our possessions. We just kept it at the dock where we found it, which to our delight and relief was as trashy and worn out as our beloved neighborhood at Helm Street, or simply the "hood". Our comfort level has to descend so low as to feel threatened as I have previously explained. No sir!! No green zone for us . I knew I was home when the little German dock owner started shooting the ducks because they were nibbling at the styrofoam docks. Every once in a while towards dusk you would hear shotgun blasts over by the launch ramp as he killed the nocturnal copperheads as they came down to bask on the warm blacktop. Yes ,I really knew I was home. Or the constant smell of burning trash and wood as he set the garbage on fire and saved dumpster bills. As the thick, acrid smoke would settle on the water It tould take on a touristy atmosphere. Every so often the boys and girls would drink too much and pass out on the dock, or in one case a red-neck girl made it to the blacktop and feel on her face, nose first. In hindsight her fall may have been broken by copperhead serpents, their heads newly blown off by Willy. One time he told me you could tell the poisonous serpents as they swam in the water from their none -poisonous cousins by the fact that the poison boys swam with only their heads out of the water. Non -poison varities swam with their entire bodies floating in a wiggly motion. That was great news to me! Like a great deal of Cumberland Lake, most of the older boats at the dock( and they were all old boats)did not have holding tanks and flushed their toilets directly into the harbor, chopped up into soup by the macerators in the toilets.I christened the harbor into Turd Harbor and would often swim in it. My main salvation was that the current was carrying the feces soup down stream to the green zone of Burnside. I honestly feared the snakes and accidental shooting far more than fecal matter. The fat bluegill that I caught had A certain brownisn tint, but that could have been from when Tim and I accidentally spilled some stuff in the water.As in all things , nothing lasts forever. We sold the yacht year before laST AND BOUGHT SOME MORE REAL ESTATE HERE IN THE SLUMS. wE BOUGHT THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR FROM A GAY GUY AND HE HUGGED ME AT THE CLOSING DOWN AT THE BANK . sANDY DIDN'T GET HUGGED. i FELT i WAS TOO OLD FOR THE QUEER ONE, BUT MAYBE HE LIKED GREY HAIRED SLUM LORDS. aS THEY SAY, THE HAPPIEST DAY IN YOUR LIFE IS WHEN YOU BUY A BOAT, AND THE SECOND WHEN YOU SELL IT. i CAN VERIFY THIS TO BE THE TRUTH. hOLY HELL somehow I hit the caps lock and it appears I am Shouting. If anyone reads this I'm sorry, but get over it! I'm not stating this drivel over again.I also must be on alert as I will interchange commaS WITH APOSTROPHES. tHEY LOOK ALIKE TO ME. What am I hitting to do that?I am 57 years old and typing totally frustrates me and mystifies me. Hello to all my friends in the green zone.

What's Normal?

Today is the 18th of February which to some people means more car bombs went off in Iraq, or that Barack Obama is meeting with liberals across New England, or Brittany shaved her head, or Anna Nicole is still dead, or in the largest sense Nascar held the Pagan ritual of DAYTONA. I had been looking for some kind of relief from Politicians( Who cares if Hillary wears pantsuits?), from Simon and American Idol, and from the incessant ramblings and obsession about Anna Nicole.Soldiers are dying every day and they're just numbers on a growing tally. I went to Washington last fall and Sandy and I visited "The Wall", a poignant reminder of our war. Somehow it is underwhelming to stand for nearly 53,000 lives of my generation. Washington and the whole Mall, which should be our pride and joy is shabby and nasty. The blacktop walkways have cracks and weeds growing up through them . The Lincoln Memorial looks dirty and fading. It seems the National Park Service doesn't have the budget necessary to keep the national monuments the way they should.The Vietnam Memorial is vastly undersized as to what I had a mental image of . The only things I was proud of in Washington were the New WW II Memorial and Arlington. I saw the Eternal Flame and the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of The Unknown Soldier. Somehow the dignity of this event holds everyone spellbound and proud to be an American. I think perhaps that the press and media are vastly overestimating American sentiments and taking themseves, like professional athletes far too seriously. I respect Katie Couric about as much as I do Tim Hardaway and his Homophobic paranoia.In like manner I don't care for the blatant gay people who wear their sexuality like a mantle of righteousness. Spare me any more Rosie O'Donnell and The Donald.A hard day of manuel labor would kill either one of these self-centered flakes. I guess what I'm saying is that most Americans, like me, are somewhere in the middle of red and blue. I'm between O'Reilley and Letterman, although Letterman has gotten totally self-absorbed and lost what made him entertaining. I find myself going over to Leno ,who at least is not cruel in his criticism. I can't get too bent out of shape about global warming , as 5 Billion Chinese and the South Americans have a huge impact on our world. Africans and starving masses somehow do not worry about depleting polar ice caps. Al Gore has never known hunger and Al FRanken has never had to worry about genocide.Yes Most Americans still have the same worries as always, as in why Mitch Barnhart and Tubby Smith receive huge salaries for, at best, mediocre performances and results. Probably enrollment at UK will drop another 10% or so due to Dr. Lee Todd's rising tuition. Top twenty my ass!! It's not going to have students. And this year's basketball team?I think we'll have to become Gator Fans or even Vols if we want any kind of gratification. Americans , like me , worry about work, rising insurance costs, and the huge cost of everyday living. I now dread the monthly arrival of my heating bill nearly as much as I dread the results of my blood work. A new Tahoe costs around $42,000. How can people pay that?? I've been listening to The Eagles Live in Melborne dvd ,and it has helped pass several long and boring winter nights. ,I became acutely aware that they have just gotten better in the 40 years of music making. Don Henley says in the extra features that they had been criticized for not dancing around, and one critic said they "Loitered" on stage during the performances. He went on to admit that they were nearly 60 years old and had to "Loiter". Wouldn't we all be so lucky as to have their talent, dignity, and success??I realized even at my fastest speed I'm Loitering.I also am amazed at the ways that Sandy Kay and I differ in our perception of Groups like the Eagles. She doesn't care for Joe Walsh , say, as he slices his way through "Walk Away", or" Rocky Mountain Way." She likes Glen Frey on "No more Cloudy Days" . She will walk away from anything Van Morrison or Bob Dylan sings. Figure that. I only can testify that the little voice in the alarm control panel stats saying "GLASS BREAKAGE " when I crank up the surround sound . Rod Stewart gets her really talking when he and Ronnie Woods swing into Maggie and Gasoline Alley. Rod Stewart At Albert Hall is the best money you'll spend. Go ahead and do without one meal eating out and spend 30 bucks on the dvd. If you're like me it's been a long winter and your fat ass will appreciate the lack of complex carbohydrates(my mother-in-law's phrase. I still don't know what in the hell she's talking about). They say Brittany is worth about$100 million, so if she wants to shave her head ,so what?From the looks of postings on the internet it's not the first thing she's shaved.I can only say that if she and her little old trashy buddies lived in Stanford they certainly would have been wearing their drawers this past few frigid weeks. And please quit talking about "Wind Chill".