Miscellany Archive

With the Israeli Defense Forces now engaged on the ground in Gaza, now might be a good time to consider helping out. There are two organizations I've supported in the past and will support in the future.

American Friends of Magen David Adom provides support to the MDA (the Israeli version of the Red Cross.)

PizzaIDF does something directly for the troops of the IDF: delivers pizza to troops on the ground. I remember times in Korea, after a month or two on the DMZ, when I'd have cheerfully killed (OK, OK, maybe just maimed) for a hot slice of pizza and a cold Coke.

You can also specify pizza delivery to a family in Sderot, which has been on the receiving end of the Hamas rocket attacks.

Now, follow those links and give until it hurts.

Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city.

Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child.

While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened.

But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
     "Glory to God in the highest,
      And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased."

When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us."

So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger. When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child. And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.

The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told them.

Kismet woke me up earlier than usual this morning. I have had maybe four hours of sleep.

I have no coffee in the house.

None. No instant coffee, even. Just decaf. This is a personal disaster beyond compare, beyond belief.

Sure, there's a Starbucks five or six miles from here... but a trip out of the house requires a lot of preparation on my part — which might be impossible without caffeine. I'm guessing they couldn't be bribed to deliver.

I wonder how Diet Coke tastes, hot?

Maybe I can suck on some used coffee grounds.

I'm off to the dentist today. Really, there's nothing I enjoy more than having things jabbed into my gums.

On the plus side, Kismet woke me up earlier than usual today, so there's a reasonable chance I'll doze off in the dentist's chair.

Cold and flu season has struck here. Or at least the "cold" part of it.

For which I am thankful.

Thankful?

Yes. Because I remember all too well where I was at this time last year. If a cold is the worst thing that happens to me, 2008 will end, for me, with an almost unblemished record of Good Things.

If that's not worth thanking God for, I don't know what is.

I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving day.

Don't forget to whom you're giving thanks.

Abraham Lincoln's Thanksgiving Proclamation:

Yesterday while out running my errands, I noticed that at my local gas station the price had dropped to $1.89/gallon.

$1.89? I was so thrilled that I drove five times around the 440 beltline just so I would have an excuse to fill up.

I still haven't come up with a good enough excuse to get that big screen HDTV I've had my eye on.

I've done it again.

I've scheduled myself for two appointments at the same time today — physical therapy, and dentist — and had to postpone one. Unfortunately, as is becoming fairly common in my experience, a "missed appointment fee" applies.

I'm eventually going to reach the point where those fees will justify the expense of getting a PDA. As if I need to be schlepping another electronic device around with me wherever I go.

Maybe I should just go the iPhone route. My cellphone is getting to be a bit long in the tooth.

Been out of the house most of the day — running errands, doing chores, buying huge pieces of beef....

What?

Among other things, I went to the discount warehouse club store and bought a vacuum-bagged strip steak primal. I was going to get a ribeye primal, but the few they had were either too small or too big, or looked a bit dodgy.... and the strips were on special. I'll be dry aging it before cutting it into steaks. It's a monster; it occupies the entirety of the bottom shelf of my fridge.

So after getting up wa-a-ay too early for an appointment, being on my feet all day, and lugging my acquisitions into the house, I'm a bit more than tired. I'm pooped.

Yes, I took the day away from the PC today.

I actually got stuff done. I'll settle for that.

Yes, yes, it's Talk Like a Pirate Day.

I'm not sure how my customers are going to react to being called "scurvy dogs."

I'm not sure I care how they react.

Sure, I suppose I could comment on the Palin e-mail hack. (It's a felony.)

I guess I could write about today's PT session. (It sucked. I hurt.)

I could try to get a picture of one of the furballs. (Another one?)

I could bitch about the DNS problem that kept me offline last night. ("Tonight on GeekTV... When Idiots Run Cable Companies.")

I might even be able to dig up a pithy Quote of the Day. (If I had it in me to do that much reading today.)

Or I could say "screw it," go cook a ribeye and have a beer before I finish the vacuuming.

Yeah, I like that last choice.

The #1 song on the Billboard charts on the day I was born: Soldier Boy. Interesting. I was in the Army, as a matter of fact, though hardly a boy at the time.

The week my brother was born: It's My Party. Heh.

When my sister was born: Wild Thing. No comment.

Not that there's anything at all meaningful in any of those, of course.... But let's see who else comes to mind.

Sarah Palin: I Want To Hold Your Hand.

Indeed.

Barack Obama: Tossin' and Turnin'.

I bet he is.

Someone, I think it was Mark Twain, once said that we ought to live our lives in such a way that we wouldn't be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip.

Me, I'll settle for never having my eventual obituary read like this one:

Dolores had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life. I speak for the majority of her family when I say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed and there will be no lamenting over her passing.

Her family will remember Dolores and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her and perhaps we will think of those times too. But I truly believe at the end of the day ALL of us will really only miss what we never had, a good and kind mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I hope she is finally at peace with herself. As for the rest of us left behind, I hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.

There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. So I say here for all of us, GOOD BYE, MOM.

It's just after 9am, and for the first time in I don't know how long, I have stayed up late enough after work — I usually finish sometime between midnight and 1am — to see a sunrise.

I didn't stay up in order to see the sunrise, I stayed up to take Mycah to the vet as soon as they opened their doors. The sunrise was merely an unpleasant side effect.

As was the morning rush hour traffic. Sure, it's nothing like the misery I endured for four years in San Jose, but it still sucks.

I've taken her in to the Cat Clinic and the wonderful Dr. Hodge early before, but I'd always done so after a couple hours of sleep. Not so today. I used the wee hours of the morning to clear my backlog of South Park and New Yankee Workshop episodes from the DVR.

Mycah is spending the day at the vet in order to generate a urine sample. She has, in the past, been notoriously uncooperative, so by keeping her all day — I won't go to get her until maybe 7pm — she ought to produce for them. She'd better — after the grief she gave me when it was time to bundle her into the PTU this morning, I'm not ready to put up with any "I refuse to pee" nonsense from her.

In the meantime, it's my day off and I'm going to bed.

Update: she cooperated, and according to the vet, there doesn't appear to be anything wrong. I'll just have to keep an eye on her for a repeat of last week's performance.

I'll be picking her up at about 6:30, and bringing Kismet in at that time for his rabies update. Plus, he's been sneezy and snotty lately — he sneezed up what looked like a banana slug the other day — so we'll have a chance to find out if he has kitteh hay fever, or if there's something else going on.

I'm busy, due in no small part to a change in employment status. (This change, I might add, is a Good Thing.)

Mycah seems to be OK now. Her appetite isn't quite up to her usual standards, but she seems otherwise fine.

My lawn, on the other hand, is pretty much dead, despite the bits of rain we've been getting. Maybe I should go out and water it in the wee small hours every morning before I go to bed.

Unbelievably busy at work tonight, from the moment I got home from errands and PT, right up to the end of my shift at midnight.

I'm wiped out, mind and body.

I obviously didn't get a chance to give status on my PT progress or Mycah's vet situation. It can hold until after I've had my night's sleep. I promise, I'll be more lucid then.

Mondays. Ugh.

Most people dislike Mondays because that's when they return to their humdrum jobs.

I dislike them because Mondays are the days I do all my chores — take out the trash, vacuum the house, do laundry, and so on. I try to get groceries on Mondays, as well, but it doesn't always work out that way. So, for the rest of the day, I'll be puttering around the house.

On the whole, though, I'm glad to be able to do as much as I can. Not too long ago, of course, I was incapable of all but the easiest household task. They aren't easy for me now, but they're getting to be less difficult. I can't believe how much better I am than I ever expected, and I'm grateful for it.

Tuesday, though, I am going to try to have a little fun — I'm going to do my utmost to make a trip to the rifle range. It's been about two years since I've been able to go, and I have some much-neglected hardware that needs to be given a workout. I'm confident I can schlep my wheeled hard-shell rifle case from the parking lot into the range, and once there I ought to be able to handle the usual walking up- and down-range target placement and marking activities.

My only concerns are the temperature — the range, indoors, has fans but no A/C — and the smoothness/slickness of the concrete floor. Too smooth and/or slick, and my cane will be slipping around. That would be a Bad Thing, indeed.

I may have to postpone, though; Mycah's not being her usual self. She seemed to be a bit off her feed at breakfast time today, she hadn't used the litterbox since last night, she's not been so stand-offish with Kismet and Packet, and she's moving a bit slower than normal. I had to call her repeatedly to come down for breakfast; usually, she's there ahead of me meowing with anticipation. I need to keep an eye on her today and make sure she's just having a bad day, as opposed to actually being unwell.

She had her 13th birthday just a month ago, but that doesn't necessarily make her an elderly cat quite yet. I'm more concerned about the diabetes and, to a lesser degree, her hyperthyroidism. Kidneys are a cat's weak spot, I think, so I really need to keep an eye on her potty behaviour. I hope the old girl has a few more years left in her. Kismet and Packet need to be swatted from time to time, and she's just the girl to do it.

Coincidentally, she has a vet appointment for tomorrow for her 6-month checkup. We'll see what the vet says.

Mycah's Potty Update: She used the litterbox while I was off doing my chores. She didn't just whiz, she whi-i-i-izzed. No poo yet, though. And she refused to come downstairs for her evening feeding. Not good.

If I had one, sure, I'd wear a kilt in public.

This... not so much. Except maybe in Bermuda.

Congratulations to the winners of this past weekend's 2008 Firecracker Couples Golf Tournament in Santa Barbara.

Left to right: Eric and Jen Lovette, Holly and Brad Emerson.

I'm pretty sure that's the biggest trophy my brother has ever had his hands on.

Today is the first day of my work week, and, boy, has it started poorly.

Sometime yesterday evening, my upstairs A/C ceased to blow cold air. I didn't really notice it until I had to go downstairs... the temperaturre differential was immediately apparent. So, I left a message for my HVAC guys requesting service ASAP.

They called me at about 9 this morning. I was, of course, pretty groggy after only a few hours's sleep, but I got the message loud and clear: they are booked solid today and tomorrow.

Outstanding. It's supposed to get up to 95° today.

And I couldn't get back to sleep. Superb.

So, I headed over to SCOTUSblog to see if the Heller 2nd Amendment decision was published today. Nope. They're really drawing out the drama on this one.

Signs seem to indicate that Heller will be a win for those of us who support 2nd Amendment rights. The question, it seems to me, is how far the Court will go in our direction. I'm hoping to hear the words "strict scrutiny" somewhere in the decision.

I'm considering celebrating by acquiring another firearm. Maybe a nice (and inexpensive) Yugoslavian SKS from Classic Arms. Good place to do business with, if they have what you're looking for. Over the past few years, I got my Swiss K.31, Czech VZ.24, as well as some accessories there. Good outfit, yep.

And though it seems unlikely at this point, if the Heller decision goes the wrong way, I'll get two. And a bucketfull of ammo.

I don't know what I was thinking.

Today being the day of the week I set aside for chores and errands, I got started at the crack of noon. Up, shower, dress, feed the cats, and depart to run errands.

I didn't have that many things to do — pick up cat food and litter at the Petsmart, get Mycah's meds and prescription food at the vet's office, and pick up some carpet cleaning supplies.

I think I bit off more than I could chew. Kitty litter and food are, of course, all the way at the back of the Petsmart.

Carpet cleaning supplies are all the way at the back of the Home Depot.

And since I was passing by, I stopped at the Target to pick up a cheap-o DIY bookcase, since I have way more books than shelf space.

Furniture is alllll the way at the back of the Target.

Then home... to unload all the crap from the pickup. And then take the trash out and wheel the bin down my treacherously steep driveway to the curb. Dragged myself up same driveway.

Then fed the cats again. Then hauled myself and my acquisitions up the stairs.

Going up stairs ought to be easier for me now than in February, but it isn't; I'm still having strength issues.

I've spent more time on my feet today than I have in a couple of years. I'm absolutely whupped, and I pretty much need to hit the shower again.

And I still haven't done any actual housecleaning. Sigh. I guess that's my day tomorrow.

At least I haven't fallen down.

Via Ace o' Spades HQ:

How did it get to be Friday so soon?

I guess Fridays would be a bigger deal if they signalled the end of my work week. As it is, I still have tomorrow and Sunday to look forward to.

I rarely get fan mail... of course, there's little enough reason for it. But when I do, especially first thing in the morning after a terrible night's sleep, it's a Very Good Thing.

Let's hope the rest of the day goes as well.

There is an age after which birthdays should cease to matter as occasions for anticipation and celebration.

That age is twelve.

Sure, there are noteworthy exceptions — landmarks, if you will. 16, 18, 21, 40 (maybe), 65 (or whatever retirement age is these days) and 100.

I suppose that in my case, attaining 46 was perhaps the littlest teeniest tiniest bit in doubt a year ago. Well, I made it. I think I'll celebrate by having a steak, or maybe pizza... if I can squeeze in a break from work. It's just another work day (second shift) for me, though it is also another a chance to again thank Mom for everything.

I'll skip the cake and ice cream, though.

I'm off from work Mondays and Tuesdays; they have become my "errand days."

Because of the night-shift work I do, I am usually comatose until about noon. [Due to a minor episode of insomnia, I was out until about 2 today. Ugh.] After I wake up, I have the three priorities that all right-thinking people have first thing in the morning: brew up a cuppa joe, feed the cat, and clean myself up such that I can go out in public without disgracing myself or bringing shame on the family name.

Mycah insists on being fed the moment I step out of my room. I almost have her trained to the point where she knows that nothing will happen until after I've had my coffee.

Once those three things have been done, I have the remainder of the afternoon to get done all those things that that can't be done from the comfort of my desk. Trips to the grocery store or to the Post Office, physical therapy sessions, occasional visits to the veterinarian... anything that requires I leave the house. And I only have a few hours to get everything done.

Still to do today: grocery store, Post Office (sorry Mom, I'm slow), gas station, pharmacy, and Petsmart... not necessarily in that order. And when I get home, I have a couple loads of laundry to do, and the weekly Running of the Vacuum.

It's good to be able to get out of the house again. By forcing myself to do a lot — go, go, go — I'm improving my physical condition and speeding my recovery.

But it sure makes for a busy day.

I hope everyone is enjoying their April 15th.

I talked to my Mom last night, and told her I'd mail some packages to her today. Then I remembered the date, and called her back. There's no way I'm going anywhere near a Post Office today. Except perhaps with a camera to record the annual day of carnage.

Having done my taxes early this year, I've noticed feeling a great sense of relief at not having to struggle with a deadline.

For those of you so inclined, those who are as un-thrilled as I of having to hand over large percentages of income to the most wasteful money-handling institution on the planet, I recommend "celebrating" Tax Day by also making it Buy a Gun Day. It's empowering.

While I was in the midst of my medical problems, I received a lot of support from quite a few people. Mom, of course, came and stayed here in NC — bored out of her skull most of the time, I don't doubt, between rounds of driving me to the doctors and doing those things around the house which I was incapable of doing for myself. My sister, too, made a few stops here to help. The two of them were invaluable; without their help, I'd have had to sell my house and move to some sort of single-story assisted-living facility.

No kidding. I was unable to fend for myself.

Many others provided moral support. I can't count how many emails I received, all full of encouragement. And there was at least one church congregation praying for me regularly.

The medical care I received was top-notch. My regular doc was and is as good a GP as I've ever dealt with. The neurologist I went to is one of the best in the country, and the neurosurgeon who drilled me is arguably the best neurosurgeon in the world. Plus, there were really cute nurses all along the way. Hey, I'm a man... you didn't expect me not to notice, did you?

Further, when I had a fundraiser going here to help offset my massive medical bills (which so far have added up to over a year's pay... egads) more than just a few people made donations to help out. It made a difference.

Now I'm in a situation where my past medical bills are all paid up, where the minor ongoing treatment (physical therapy, mostly) is relatively simple for me to handle... and I have my tax refunds in the bank.

I've always tried to be a charitable guy; I could do a lot better. I want to do better. So, I've recently seen a couple of situations where maybe I could directly make a difference, where I could give someone with insanely high vet bills some of the same sort of support that I was blessed to receive when I was down.

Moki is a tough little fighter with an undiagnosed neurological condition. If you think this reminds me of my own situation, you'd be exactly right.

LillyLu is another cat with enormous vet bills... particularly since her human is getting ready to have twins of her own.

Both those linked sites have orange "Donate" buttons in the sidebars. Go on, hit them. Every little bit helps. Big bits help, too.

For those of you who are charitably inclined, but feel the need to have tax deductability, there is the newly-founded Cat Friends Helping Friends. There are plenty of people-oriented charities, but as far as I know, there's just this one that helps people with big veterinarian bills. Go help them out.

I got my tax refund checks, state and federal, in the mail this week.

Plus I got a letter from the IRS saying I'd overpaid on my 2006 return; they're sending me another check (a whopping $137) in a few weeks. Why they bothered with a letter without including a check is beyond me.

Despite my detestation of the IRS, its employees, their families, their friends, and everyone who has ever spoken nicely or had a kind thought about them, it sure is nice to be getting money back from them.

Am I being too unkind to IRS employees (their families, etc.)? I don't think so. Go read Ezra Levant's thoughts on denormalization.

There is nothing "normal" about a federal agency seizing a part of your income before it ever passes through your hands. There is nothing "normal" about the government laying claim to the product of your labor. There is nothing "normal" about being taxed on your productivity.

When someone other than you has a prior claim on the fruits of your labor, it's called slavery, which historically may be "usual" but it certainly ought not to be "normal."

IRS bureaucrats should not feel any more comfortable in their positions than Levant's inquisitor was made to feel.

On the whole, I'd just as soon not have them withholding money from my paycheck and then making me explain why I want it back.

Taxing my behavior, sure, I suppose can deal with that — because I have a choice. I can choose not to buy a new car this year. I can choose to buy guns instead of butter... literally... if I want. On the other hand, choosing to have a job with a paycheck isn't really a choice, given the alternative, is it?

I'm beginning to think those various flat/fair tax proposals have some merit.

Tuesday's post was, in part, less than the truth.

In point of fact, while I wrote it my Mom was already in the air on her way back to California.

After she had been here for such an incredibly long visit — since June, you may recall — she thought it might be nice to surprise everyone with her arrival back home. The only one there who knew of her arrival was my sister; someone had to pick Mom up from the airport limo drop-off point.

I had promised, though, that I wouldn't spill the beans to my brother and his family, or to any of my Mom's friends who have been checking the site here for status updates.

I am pleased to report that the surprise was complete.

It's been just six days since my corrective surgery, and I think I'm ready to go back to work this afternoon. I'd have gone back last week had it not been for the complication.

I wonder how many emails I have waiting for me?

I wonder if I can remember any of my passwords?

Good riddance, 2007.

2008 has got to be — will be — better.

Happy New Year, everyone.

The Gospel of Matthew, verses 18 through 25:

Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: when His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit. And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly.

But when he had considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. "She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins."

Now all this took place to fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

"Behold, the virgin shall be with child and shall bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel,"

which translated means, "GOD WITH US." And Joseph awoke from his sleep and did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took Mary as his wife, but kept her a virgin until she gave birth to a Son; and he called His name Jesus.

There's no sadness like the sadness of waking up on Thanksgiving morning to discover there isn't a turkey- and stuffing-filled stocking hanging near the chimney.

On the plus side, I don't have a sudden surplus of coal, either.

My little sister is having her ??th birthday today.

No, I'm not telling.

I've just read that Mike Hendrix of Cold Fury lost his wife in a motorcycle accident last Friday.

Condolences are not enough.

Just how, will someone tell me, did the past week go by so quickly?

"Time flies when you're having fun," they say. Apparently the same holds true when all you do is work and sleep.

Anyone feeling lucky today?

I haven't been out to see a movie in months, not since last August. I can't really go now, until my condition improves, which is a shame — there appear to be a number of big-screen-viewing-worthy flicks this year.

I've never been a fan of the franchise, but check this out. Awesome, indeed.

Jerry Falwell died, and his detractors on the Left went insane with glee. Had the situation been reversed, I don't think we'd have seen anything like glee from Rev. Falwell. Regret would seem more likely.

And that's the problem with the Left. (Well, one of the problems....) They cannot or will not make the distinction present in the motto "hate the sin, love the sinner."

To those on the Left, hate is to be directed at their opponents personally, rather than to their opponents' positions or behavior. And then they have the audacity to call those of us on the Right "mean-spirited" and "hate-filled."

Amnesty? No thanks. I'm with Bob at Confederate Yankee... though I'll hold my re-registration until after any voting.

My brother is in the auto finance business. From him:

I made a special arrangement yesterday with a Honda dealership that allows me to offer 2007 Honda Accords that he has in stock at incredible prices. I can definitely get these cars for LESS than dealer invoice. I would like to help this dealer friend of mine clear his inventory, and help anyone who needs or wants a new Accord get one at an outstanding price, without the haggling process. Please feel free to share this news with friends if you like. (Please note - this is limited to the dealer's stock in inventory!)

So, if you're in the market for a cheap 2007 Honda Accord, drop me a line. Tell your friends.

This is my brother. Yes, he's reputable.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:
and the government shall be upon his shoulder:
and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor,
The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6