I don't know about you . . .

. . . but this guy creeps me out.

I don't care much for his hamburgers either.

Friday . . .

. . . wanderings.

I promised not to blog about politics, but traffic, law and math are still fair game.

Item the first:
It's Halloween, so I wore a Union Army uniform to work today. I walked into my commander's office and told him that General Grant ordered me to relieve him of command. He was more than willing to comply.

Item the second:
Obama has promised a tax refund to 95% of Americans. 46% of Americans don't pay federal income taxes. Does this mean that the 46% will get 100% of zero back?

Item the third:
Mrs. B went to the hospital for pre-surgery tests to day. We were informed that they were open between 6:30 a.m. and 6:30 p.m. We arrived at 6:30. Paperwork was promptly taken care of, but the nurse doesn't arrive until 8:00 a.m. That would have been good information up front, wouldn't it? How can you be "open" if the key person isn't there to do the work?

Item the fourth:
I was late getting home last night because our bus (and all other traffic) was stopped for the Obama motorcade. He came to Hampton Roads to lie like a rug hold a rally at 5:45 - right in the middle of the rush hour. He just lost my vote. Wait . . . I already voted. nevermind.

Item the fifth:
- An empty noose gets kids expelled from school.
- Two people are arrested for hanging Obama in effigy in Kentucky.
- Palin hanged in effigy in California. Everyone giggles.
Explanations abound. Logic does not.

Item the sixth:
My bus is full in the morning because of the cost of gas. There are two men who get aboard at the first stop. They sit in the aisle seat, plop their lunch bags or backpacks in the window seat, and bury their noses in a book or newspaper. Every morning, someone has to ask them to move over. Arseholes.

Item the seventh:
The U.S. government spent something north of $150,000,000 installing a pay-for-performance system for civilian employees. What has it done? It was the brainchild of Rumsfeld and Wolfowicz, so that might give you a hint. Answer: not much. Management didn't like the ratings, so we're forced to change them, and everyone is getting pretty much what they would have gotten before. Amazing.

Horror movies . . .

. . . rules of engagement.

- If you hear a noise in the basement, you MUST go investigate. "I can't imagine why that blood-curdling scream came from downstairs. It must be the cat. I'll go look. Darn, the lights don't work . . ."

- If your door is open and there are bloody footprints, you MUST look inside to see what's going on. "That looks like red paint. Those twelve people lying over there must have slipped in it. I better check . . ."

- If you are being chased by a madman in a car, you MUST run down the center of the street. "If I just stay on this yellow line, Christine won't be able to run me down!"

- If you go into a spooky house with a partner, you MUST split up. "Ill take the basement, you look upstairs . . ."

- If you have a party with friends, it MUST be in a dark place with a spooky reputation. "Hey, let's get some beer and go out to the Johnson place. You know, where that kid killed 27 people with an axe. It'll be a blast . . ."

- If you kill the monster, you MUST turn your back . . . so he can rise up and attack you again. "I pushed him down the steps, so even though I've shot him, hacked him with an axe, and immolated him with gasoline, the fall MUST have killed him. I'm glad that's over . . ."

- If you're lost and almost out of gas on a lonely road, you MUST stop at a run-down motel or an old house in the middle of the woods to ask for directions. "Norman, can you direct me to the nearest gas station?"

- If you shoot the demon six times and bullets don't hurt him, you MUST throw your gun at him.

- If you have escaped the monster, but found you have left your high school class ring in the house, you MUST go back for it. "My grandmother bought that ring, so I don't care if there are 19 bodies hacked to death inside . . . I'm going back for my ring."

- You can drive for hours, but when you must escape from the monster, your car WILL NOT start. "I don't understand. This is a brand-new, $150,000 BMW. It started the last 500 times . . ."

- While you are being chased around the house by the monster, NONE of the doors or windows will open, the lights won't work, and the phone will be dead. "I'll just click the phone 20 or thirty times. That'll make it work."

- You can have enough evidence to convict Charles Manson, including photographs, witnesses and bloody body parts, but the police/parents/neighbors WILL still not believe you. "Sorry, son, but all those photos of bodies in the basement look like a prank to me - and that stuff on your shirt, shoes, pants and face must be spaghetti sauce."

- If you are at a party in a strange place, you MUST NOT BE the hot chick/macho guy. They will be the first victims.

- If you're making out in a car on a lonely road, that noise you just heard WASN'T the wind. "Honey, what was that scratching that sounded like steel fingernails being dragged across the car fender? Don't worry about it, it was just the wind. Now why can't I get this unhooked?"

- If you're in a dark place, your flashlight WILL NOT WORK.

- If you've had sex, you're GOING TO DIE.

- You CANNOT run faster than the bad guy can walk.

- If you're a cheerleader, you're GOING TO DIE.

Happy Halloween!

A haunting . . .

. . . or not?

Gemmak's strange dream (Sunday, October 26, 2008: Weird or what!!! ) - particularly the Jack Nicholson photo - reminded me of a trip to Colorado.

I stayed in the historic Brown Palace hotel in Denver, which opened it's doors in 1892. The hotel is in downtown Denver, so there's no real mountain setting. However, parts of the interior remind me of the Overlook in Steven King's book, "The Shining." I had just finished reading "The Shining" on the airplane into Denver.

Here's what seemed to happen:

As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard footsteps outside my door. My opened and shut. More footsteps, seemingly in my room. Then, the side of the bed near my feet sagged, as if someone just sat on it.

Here's what really happened:

Someone in the room next to me walked down the hall, opened their door and let it slam. Barely awake, I heard them walk across their room. Then, I had one of those little episodes where you jerk awake and feel like you just fell into your bed.

At least I hope that's what happened.

The Brown Palace is reputed to be haunted.

Digging through old stuff . . .

. . . I found this magazine.

I was one of those kids who found a Lionel train set under the Christmas tree many, many years ago. In the '70s, I built a layout for the boys, hoping they would catch the railroad bug. They never did, but it rekindled my interest. I kept building and building on my own until 1989, when we moved and I had to tear it all down.

On a whim, I took some photographs of some locomotives I had built, wrote an article on the construction, and sent it all to Railroad Model Craftsman magazine. Several months later, I received a check in the mail for several hundred dollars, along with several proof copies of this cover.

RMC not only accepted my article, but they paid me for it, and put one of my photos on the cover. There were several more photos printed inside, but because of the half-tone print, I can't scan them. The three yellow Union Pacific diesels are mine. It took several hundred hours to modify existing locomotives, add details, and complete the paint.

One day when I was picking up the photos, a gentleman standing next to me asked me where I took the pictures. When I told him "in my basement," he didn't believe me. It turns out that he was a Union Pacific engineer, and had delivered the first locomotive of that type to U.P. in Omaha. Coincidences . . .

This photo is of two other diesels I built. They're sitting on the layout that I sadly had to tear down when we moved. I either hand-built or modified everything in the picture - from the locomotives to the chain link fence.

Courtesy . . .

. . . unrequited.

I took two packages to FedEX today. I forgot something, so I went back out to the car.

When I returned, a woman was walking up with two arms full of packages. Being a proper Eagle Scout, I opened the door for her. She promptly thanked me - a response of more rarity today than it should be.

I guess she thought I not only opened the door, but allowed her to pass me in line. So, I sat there for 10 minutes while she went ahead of me and processed all seven of her packages without so much as a by your leave.

After I woke up from my nap finally had my turn, I was halfway through the process of sending my packages when a delivery man interrupted the clerk, and they discussed where some paperwork should be processed.

Obviously, opening a door for someone grants the admittee full license to control and superiority.
Equally obviously, the FedEX paperwork was more important than the customer . . . who happened to be standing there envisioning all means of torture, and contemplating to which ring of Hell the woman, the clerk and the delivery chap should be committed.

Soto Voce: I have decided that insead of railing at people who aggrivate me, I shall mitigate that aggrivation by determining their proper place in Hell.

As the old bromide says, no good deed goes unpunished.

But, it was a nice day. Warm with a light rain.

And the offences were such that no bodies now need be disposed of.

Politics . . .

. . . has simply gotten too nasty.

I have contributed to the muck, so I pulled down a few posts.

I have decided that minds are made up, the country is equally split, and both halves are continuing to lob (figurative) grenades at each other.It's been going on for sixteen years straight. Thanks to Bubba and the Devil With the Blue Dress On (thank you Mitch Ryder) and to those warped individuals who think atomizing themselves will grant them 72 virgins instead of a place on the Outer Ring of the Seventh Circle of Hell. I don't see much chance of it abating for another eight or so.My little blog stands no chance of making a difference, so I'm cooling it for a while.

There won't be another political post until the day after the election - when I will either post "YAY!" or "SHIT!"

Since the French and Iranians have already chosen Obama, what would my opinion matter anyhow?