By Popular Demand

I've had several requests for "revealing photos" from adoring female followers of my blog (at least I think they are female). So, feast your eyes on this hunk of burning love.

I've been out of pocket for a couple of months, but I promise to get back to regular posting very soon.

Going to Florida This Weekend

My wife Pam and I are going to Florida this weekend to see our sons Thomas and Tyson, their wife/significant other Heather and Casey, and Tyson and Heather's daughter (our granddaughter) Kaley (who is one year old and whom we've not yet met). While in Florida, we will be going to a horror film festival in Orlando for the first U. S. screening of my brother Richard's movie "Evil Angel."

Autumn

Fall is definitely here. Here in the Great White North, the leaves are beginning to change and fall to the ground (causing me to have to rake them with the rig pictured at right-stock photo, not of me). Canadians are beginning to herd up and head south for the Winter, stopping in New Hampshire only long enough to load up on Harley-Davidson Motorcycle chrome accessories (duty-free, of course). The mornings are crisp and the evenings are getting shorter. I'm almost looking forward to the artificial clock adjustment that plunges me into darkness when I go to work, and darkness before I get home. The deer, also known as targets of opportunity, will soon be crowding the sides of major highways anxiously awaiting their turn to be turned into paste by a motor vehicle. Ahhhhh! Autumn!

I've Been Tinkering with My Jeep

This is what it looks like so far. Below is what it looked liked a few months ago.

Finally, an Exercise Bike that Makes Sense

Where the Hell was this thing 29 years ago? I use the point in time 29 years ago to reference the moment when I began, quite unintentionally, to transform myself from a strapping young man into the gelatinous mound of hair-covered, stooped-over, prematurely gray, nicotine-stained .....lover of all things Beer! Benjamin Franklin once said, "Beer is proof that there is a God and He wants us to be happy." I believe Ben was misquoted, because he seems to only ever refer to a belief in God in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way. I have it from a reliable source that he actually said "Beer is *burp*, proof that *fart*, blah, blah, blah, happy. Buahahaha!" That's how I would have said it.
Anyway, if this exercise bike had existed when I first began to turn away from the Light and toward the nectar that is Beer, I might actually have become an in-shape beer drunk (and modest home-brewer of said nectar), instead of the sad, wrung-out piece of human flotsam (and modest home-brewer of said nectar) that everyone, sooner or later, grows to love.
I must insert a disclaimer here. If you have not already figured it out, I was doing a bit of drinking just prior to composing this post. In my defense, and I am sad to say, I have not had a single drop of beer. Apparently, the elves who deliver the Light of Coors have been taken ill with the Swine Flu. Thus, there is no Light of Coors to be found within the walls of my Kingdom. Therefore, I have been sampling a little bit of a liquid product from a strange and exotic land called Canada. Something called Canadian Regal Diluted Whiskey. I'm told that Canada is a magical place just to the north of me, and that the inhabitants of Canada are responsible for Molsen. That's it! Ben Franklin actually said "Molsen is proof that there is a beer from Canada, and it wants us to be happy." I like it........

1968

This photo was taken at the very instant I made up my mind to stop shaving and cease cutting my hair in preparation for Woodstock, which was just one short year away. It was the last time that I was photographed when both of my lips could be clearly seen at the same time.

When I found out that Woodstock was essentially 200,000 people wandering around looking for a place to piss, and faced the reality that I was only seven years-old and unable to get a driver's license even in Mississippi, I decided to skip the event in favor of breaking open oysters with a rock. The oyster shell shards proved helpful in scraping off a year's worth of facial hair accumulation. My brother later hit me in the head with that rock, causing a psychedelic effect similar to the one experienced by thousands of participants (and Timothy O'Leary followers) at Woodstock. Essentially, I experienced Woodstock AND knew exactly where to piss (in the Emergency Room).

I'm a Rare Civil Servant

I don't mean that I am a stunningly handsome man, which is obvious (despite the porcupine that attached itself to my chin last Winter). I mean that I am a civil servant who is surrounded by competence.
The overwhelming majority of those with whom I have the privilege of working are extremely competent people.
Government employees often are the butt of jokes - more often than Rednecks, Nuns, Lawyers, and Catholic Priests. Well, maybe not Catholic Priests. They're pretty funny, unless you happen to be a 9 year-old altar boy.
Have you ever heard the expression "close enough for government work"? I don't know what that means. I mean, I know what it means - that half-assed work is acceptable if done by government employees working to government standards. I mean, I don't know anyone or any job in Government that the aforementioned expression accurately depicts. Unacceptable work is unacceptable work, whether or not the Government is behind it. Between military service and Federal Civil Service, I have been on the job for nearly twenty-five years, and I can can say without a moment's pause that I can count on one hand the number of truly stupid, lazy, incompetent people who cannot be pried away from the Government tit (for those of you who object to the word "tit," please insert the word "teet," but avoid using the words "suck" or "suckle" in conjunction with "tit" or "teet" at any cost). My problem is that I can count, and each one of those bozos who I do know is drawing a Government paycheck, which is like flushing cash down a toilet. I don't mean like flushing Recovery Act dollars down a toilet that is being designed and constructed next to a highway paving project that doesn't really need to be done (trumpeted by really nice signs that cost millions to produce and place along the route of the road to be paved). I mean like flushing actual cash down an actual toilet.

Cabot Seriously Sharp Cheddar Cheese

My buddy Rick Gray from Vermont recently gave me a 2-pound block of Cabot Seriously Sharp Cheddar Cheese. I love it. My Buddy Chin also liked it. Chin is trying to arrange for a truck-load of prunes right now.....

I'm On Travel This Week

I'm spending the week in Clifton Park, New York at a work-related conference. I will probably not have anything to post until I return to New Hampshire on the weekend, unless I win big at Saratoga tomorrow afternoon. I've never been to this particular part of New York, but it is really nice. It was only a little over three hours driving time from home. Just after crossing into New York from Vermont, I came upon an accident involving a motorcyclist struck by a car. He didn't do well, despite wearing a lid and full leather. A reminder of how fragile we all are.

Trip to Illinois

I returned Sunday from a four-day trip to Illinois to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday. She looked great, and seemed to be on the top of the World. She has a little trouble walking, but is otherwise in good health and just as persnickety as I remember. My brother Richard, his wife Gwen, and their seven children came out from Utah. My cousin Bill, his wife Tamara, and their daughter Tiffany (with boyfriend Mike in tow) came out from San Diego and Mesa, AZ, respectively. My wife PJ and I, as well as granddaughter Amber, flew in from New Hampshire. My cousin Mike and his wife Jennifer came over from Missouri, as did his brother John and his wife Lynnette and children Joshua and Melody. The shot above is my brother Richard, me, and cousin Bill, with the guest of honor, Grandma Mae, in the middle.

To the left is my cousin Mike in the right field of the photo, with his wife Jennifer next to him. To their right is Lynnette, Bill, and Richard. Bill was telling a story that was probably bullshit, unless he was explaining the $200.00 bottle of whiskey we were drinking.






This is John and Lynnette. Obviously, at least one of them is insane. Actually, they are really great people and it was great to reconnect with them after many years.


This is PJ, Amber, and Papa Dutch with Grandma Mae.

Summer is Finally Here!

Summer in New England gets started, it seems, much later than in other places I've ever lived. Spring began June 15th, and ended with the beginning of Summer on July 5th. I hope Summer lasts longer than the two weeks we got last year. If it does, I may try to take the hard top off of the Jeep and drive very quickly between rain showers.

It's easy to tell when Summer arrives here. The abundant wildlife (whose dead carcasses litter the roadways). The beautiful butterflies (stuck to the windshield and grille). The gentle hum of other insect life (as it prepares to feast on your exposed skin). The blossoming flora (causing itchy eyes, runny noses, and sore throats). And finally being able to rake the lawn instead of the roof of the house. Ah..... Summer! I'd better get busy stacking firewood close to the house......

Ever Had "One of Those Days?"

Lately, I have been having and endless stream of days where I felt like this guy. Of course, I'm talking about work. I can't seem to get ahead of the workload, because new stuff just keeps coming in. I remember being bored to tears in previous jobs, and I certainly don't want to return to that environment, I'd just like to be able to see the big picture once in a while. A couple of days being able to sleep past 4 AM would probably be a nice break, too. Perhaps after I'm dead I'll be able to catch up on my sleep.

My Newest Granddaughter

I was having trouble posting this photo yesterday to the Father's Day post, so I made a separate post. This is my granddaughter Kailey, who also lives in Florida.

Happy Father's Day

I wanted to reach out to all of the fathers out there and wish everyone a happy Father's Day. I wanted to also extend a special greeting to my son Tyson, who is celebrating his first Father's Day as a father. I understand he spent the day with his family at the beach in Florida, though I haven't heard that from him personally (my son Thomas told me about it on his way to the beach). In New Hampshire today it rained like a bastard, and the temperature never got above 63 degrees Fahrenheit. Summer is in full swing in New England.....



This is my granddaughter Amber "driving" my Jeep.


















This is my granddaughter Chloe, who is also my niece, and who lives in Utah.





















This is my grandson Gabriel.

It's Finally Time to Get the Motorcycles Out

It's Motorcycle Week in Laconia, New Hampshire. Time to get the bikes out and blow the dust out of them. This one is my current iron horse - a 1995 Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic. Here in New Hampshire, Summer comes late and only sticks around briefly. In fact, if I don't get out and do some serious riding in the next few weeks, Summer will be gone. Today, the temperature got all the way up to 58 degrees (Fahrenheit) and it has been raining for three days. The weather forecast indicates a break in the rain on Wednesday, coincidentally my only day off in the last couple of weeks. After the chores that I have been neglecting, I intend to do some riding - possibly making my way to Weirs Beach in Laconia to see if I can get the really cool eyebrow-only sunburn I like to sport this time of year.

Too Adorable Not To Post

This was just too precious not to post. This is my three year-old granddaughter expressing her fashion sense. She is a beautiful child with a healthy sense of self. She put on these mismatched shoes, went out in the yard after a three-day rain, and picked some flowers (dandelions) for her papa. I have four grandchildren , but this one lives with me full-time and is, naturally, closer to me than the others. I fervantly hope to develop the same or similar closeness to my other grandchildren before I take the dirt nap.

Not only is she fashionable and one helluva good flower-picker, she is quite good at pointing out where the dogs have dropped their loads, shrieking "poopie!" whenever she sees a fresh pile of Lincoln Logs in the grass, on the sidewalk, or in the driveway. One of my dogs is very old and just does his business wherever and whenever the urge strikes, dropping dung piles the size of hybrid automobiles.

Need Help Naming These Little Guys

A couple of days ago, we adopted these two little guys. We haven't named them yet, but are watching them play and sleep in an effort to find quirks, behaviors (behaviours, for my Canadian friends,) etc. that would assist in the naming process. The result so far - Nothing. They chase each other. They roll about on the floor. They climb furniture. They crap. They're little cats.

So, any suggestions anyone might offer would be helpful. French names are out of the question, because, well, they're French names. Ethnically-insensitive (but funny) names are on the table, but because I live in the Great White North, the only people who would "get it" are people you wouldn't invite into your home. Profane names are out. I'm having enough trouble getting my three year-old granddaughter to stop using profanity (if only I could figure out where she hears those words). Religious names are ok, but only if combined with the names of other mythical creatures (except for the name of any Mormon prophet because I could never be that cruel to an innocent animal, and besides, the whole first initial, middle name, last name thing is pompous and pretentious).

I Miss Hanging Out With My Sons

I moved from Florida to New Hampshire in October of 2007. My adult sons, pictured here in September of 2008, remained in Florida where they have lived since 1996. They went to school in Florida, so all of their friends are there. Tyson married Heather, and they have a daughter, Kailey, as well as Heather's family nearby. Thomas also is entrenched in Florida. I have only been able to go back twice, once for Tyson and Heather's wedding last Spring, and once last Fall to complete the relocation to New Hampshire. I haven't even managed to get back there to see Kailey, my beautiful granddaughter, who was born just a few days after my Fall visit. I feel guilty about that, but work has kept me too busy to even think about taking some time off.

What's my point? I miss the daily personal contact with my sons. I took it for granted, I guess, because I never had any intention of leaving Florida myself. I retired there from the Navy, was teaching college, and figured I would croak there (just like millions of Yankees seem to do every year).

I'm going to go back for a visit. But, I think I'm going to go in the middle of the Winter, so that I can truly appreciate being in Florida. One of my complaints when I lived in Florida was being house-bound because of the oppressive heat and humidity. We don't have that problem in Northern New England. In fact, it is now early June and I'm still wearing a jacket to work in the morning. So, I think reuniting with my sons, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter would be especially nice in January or February, when I'm up to my ass in snow here in New England.

A Toast to Governor Lynch and the New Hampshire Legislature

I'm knocking back a few of these tonight in honor of the New Hampshire Legislature, and Governor John Lynch, for having the courage to follow the will of the people and allow gays to marry in the State of New Hampshire. The "Live Free or Die" state is now the sixth state to allow same-sex marriages, and the debate is currently going on in many other states and the Federal Government.

Still at question is whether or not livestock become one herd in a gay marriage in New Hampshire, or should the parties maintain separate herds, protected by prenuptial agreements and expanses of barbed wire.

Massachusetts addressed this issue when it passed legislation allowing gay marriage. They banned cows because, as Barney Franks (D-MA) said on the floor of the Massachusetts State House, "Cows are farty. And they look terrible in heels."

Obviously, I'm just keeping it light. Congrats to the real beneficiaries here today - the people of New Hampshire, because they believe in equality and in keeping religion and other mystic BS out of discussions concerning basic rights.

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/6eddb255b2/a-gaythering-storm

The Slaying of Dr. George Tiller

Mr. Scott Roeder has been formally charged with the murder of Dr. George Tiller in Wichita this past Sunday. Mr. Roeder is a staunch anti-abortionist who viewed Dr. Tiller as evil because he performed late-term abortions on those who sought his services. Roeder's ex-wife has described him as having "a fanatical preoccupation with certain views, including those on abortion." The abortion issue has many sides, and is not a simple matter of right-to-life versus pro choice.

No matter where one stands on this issue, the fundamental question in this case has to do with the act of killing an abortion doctor. Does Mr. Roeder's belief that abortion is wrong, and that those who perform abortions are, by extension, evil doers, justification for killing to prevent more abortion procedures being done? I believe Dr. Tiller's death is serving as a call-to-arms for much of American society, and many who previously held no opinion on the issue are now forcing themselves to consider it.

Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), affirmed a woman's right to choose, within fairly strict guidelines as to how far along in the term of pregnancy a woman finds herself, whether or not to carry a fetus to term and give birth. Ever since this statutory birth of the pro-life movement there have been legal challenges, bombings of clinics that perform abortions, protests by the right-to-life side of the equation, and killings of medical personnel who perform the procedures. I believe that the overwhelming majority of Americans viewed the issue as I always have - that the question of whether or not to abort a fetus is for the woman involved (or the couple involved in conception) and is not a matter to be decided by old, rich, white men in Washington, DC. Dr. Tiller's murder has forced me to consider the abortion issue once again. However, this time, I cannot opine on the morality of aborting a fetus because I find myself incapable of focusing on anything but the senseless murder of a medical practitioner. Mr. Roeder has done considerable harm, in my view, to the right-to-life movement by (allegedly) brazenly and very publicly killing a doctor while he attended a worship service. By committing this act, Mr. Roeder has forced American society to concentrate on his violent act in the name of his cause, rather than on the cause itself.

Most of you who know me know that I lost my religious faith many, many years ago. Therefore, I must view the abortion issue in legal terms, as well as within the context of my personal code of morality. Since I will never personally face the question of whether or not to abort a fetus, I must side with the Constitution and the Bill of Rights FOR THOSE WHO DO FACE THIS QUESTION. The Constitution and Bill of Rights guarantee absolutely three things ... life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The 5th and 14th Amendments to the Constitution say, in essence, that those rights can be taken away only through the exercise of due process. Mr. Roeder, in his support of the anti-abortion philosophy, and perhaps in retaliation for abortions already committed, has denied Dr. Tiller the right to LIVE. He did so on his own, without the protection afforded both parties in a legal battle, sentenced Dr. Tiller to death, and carried out an execution in public on a date and time of his own choosing. In doing so, Mr. Roeder moved the discussion of the merits of pro-choice versus pro-life out of the logical, legal, legislative, and public opinion arenas, and turned the discussion into one of extremism and the motivation behind it. He also decided to offer himself up as a martyr for the cause of pro-life, quite probably endangering its very existence.

As always, these are only my thoughts. Your mileage may vary.

Nova Inglaterra na mola!

New England in the Spring! This place is incredible! Spring has sprung. People are walking around in Summer clothing, even though it is still in the low 30's when I go to work in the morning. I've lived all over the United States, and in many parts of the World beyond the U.S., and I must say, New England is my favorite. Twenty years ago, my friend Sid Pence and his wife, also retired from the Navy, decided to leave Central Florida and move to somewhere in New England (I still don't know where they went-it's as if they dropped off the planet). At the time, I thought they were crazy. Imagine, leaving hot, humid, traffic-congested Orlando for a place that looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. A place where a terrible traffic jam adds 10 minutes to your usual commute time. A place where you can take a deep breath without searing your lungs. A place where you can kill more deer with a Ford than a Remington. A place where.......well, you get my drift.

I lived in Central and Northeastern Florida for many years. I used to brag to my friends and family who lived in the Midwest, the Rockies, and that place just north of Hell - Texas (Yes, you, Tom) about how I was always warm when they were all freezing in harsh winters. I have now spent two winters in Northern New England and I admit that the harsh Winter makes the Spring so much more to cherish. When I lived in Florida I took the weather for granted. There were essentially two seasons - Hot and Not-as-Hot.

I Had Prime Rib Tonight

Benjamin Franklin once said "Beer is proof that there is a God and He wants us to be happy." Ben Franklin is one of my heroes, but he apparently never made it to Parkers's in Chichester, NH, and ordered the Prime Rib. Parker's is my favorite here in the Great White North, where I moved from Florida a year and a half ago. While it is true that I will eat Prime Rib anywhere, I will once again entertain the notion that there might be a supreme being if I can find a place that has kick-ass prime rib, and that makes its own beer. Then, I'll try to conjure up the spirit of Ben Franklin to join me for dinner.

Turkey Chick (Poult)

I happened upon this turkey chick (aka poult)today. I picked it up and took it to the house, and it now resides with my brother-in-law, with two other turkey chicks, among a small flock of chickens. This little guy or gal is only a day or two old. Tomorrow is the last day of turkey hunting season here, and there are a number of orphans around. The lucky ones are found, like this one. The unlucky ones end up as food for coyotes and turkey buzzards.