My favorite blogger . . .

. . . often writes about the tornadoes out on the prairie where she lives in her little sod hut next to Charles, Caroline, Mary, Carrie and Laura Ingalls.

But, she's not alone. In addition to the occasional hurricane - such as Isabel - we also encounter the odd tornado or two.

This one blew across the place of my employment on 28 April. It only did about $250,000 damage on the base, but the folks in Chesapeake were less fortunate.

I didn't see it. Mrs. B and I were off on vacation in sunny Mississippi.

Political correctness . . .

. . . run amok.

Credit to SciGuy (Eric Berger) for this one.

A special meeting about Dallas County traffic tickets turned tense and bizarre this afternoon.

County commissioners were discussing problems with the central collections office that is used to process traffic ticket payments and handle other paperwork normally done by the JP Courts.

Commissioner Kenneth Mayfield, who is white, said it seemed that central collections "has become a black hole" because paperwork reportedly has become lost in the office.

Commissioner John Wiley Price, who is black, interrupted him with a loud "Excuse me!" He then corrected his colleague, saying the office has become a "white hole."

That prompted Judge Thomas Jones, who is black, to demand an apology from Mayfield for his racially insensitive analogy.

Mayfield shot back that it was a figure of speech and a science term.

Pot . . .

. . . and kettle.

I received new instructions on our pay-for-performance employee evaluation system today.

One point of emphasis: "Ensure spelling and grammars are correct."

Further comment not required.

Two hundred thirty-two years ago . . .

. . . a document was published that began thus:

"When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."

This action was the official beginning of unpleasantness between us and our (now) friends in the British Empire - an unpleasantness that lasted (again, officially) until 1815. During that time, we had the unfortunate need to declare war on Britain not once, but twice.

Feelings between us have moderated a bit since then, and I shall be eternally grateful that they have remained so.

Our Navy still flies a jack based on one from that era. Whatever the opinion of the U. S. in the world today, the flag still contains some good advice.

Barack Obama's . . .

. . . official photo.

Apparently, there is no position he isn't willing to change for political expediency.

Of course, one may say that of most politicians, but BHO has raised it to an art form not seen since John Kerrey.

WARNING: If you don't know what memento mori photography is, look it up before you read this post.

I am a professional engineer by trade, but also a genealogist and historian by avocation. A part of genealogy is the study not only of people, but of the customs and mores of the time.

During the Victorian period, and for sometime after, during the infancy of photography, it was common to take photos of loved ones after they died. Most people today find that practice to be morbid, but the study of genealogy requires a look at those pieces of our past that are not so pleasant.

The photo below is of Lela Maberry, my 2nd cousin, twice removed. She died in 1899 at age eleven. I found her memento mori in a box of photographs handed down by my g.g.grandmother

The kid with the largest head . . .

. . . ever recorded - would most likely be me.

I'm still rummaging through old photos, and I found this one taken at age three. I wonder if the barber charged my haircuts by the acre. For those of you who are younger than, oh, say DIRT, this is an example of portraiture back in the era just post Neanderthal extinction. It's hand colored.