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.