Monday, November 16, 2009

On the Wing


I was out working in the yard the other day. The chickens were out free-ranging. Chickens may not always behave in a rational way; however they do have an innate instinct about some things. I say irrational because I have never chased them or harmed them. Sometimes when they see me they run to me yet other times they run from me.

As I work outside I often see the chickens all run from one area where they were scratching to another area to scratch or take a dirt bath. One of them may walk away, but then the others see the walker striking out in a new direction the others have to run to catch up. Some run and some even fly.

While I was out working the other day all the chickens were out in one of the pastures. They were pretty much all together, and suddenly they exploded into a running flying mass. They weren’t following a leader; they were all leaders. They didn’t fly to another scratching area; they all hauled ass into the coop. In a moment I realized why when I heard the trickling cooing sounds that raptors make. A moment later two bald eagles flew high over head.

The chickens seemed to instinctively know when the eagles were gone. They came out of the coop nearly as vigorously as they entered and they went about their day as though nothing ever happened.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Glasses


I went shopping for new eye glasses earlier this week. I did check out the selection at my Ophthalmologists office but somehow I don’t see how rimless frames which consist of the piece that goes over the nose and the right and left side that goes over the ear can cost more than a new 3000 watt generator. Over $350, this is just the price of the frames without the lenses. I mean WTF? There are three pieces of metal with a couple of screws. I could understand the price if it were pure gold.

From there I went to my former optometrist office with my prescription and I found similar frames for less than one third the price. This was much more reasonable, however that still a lot of money for three pieces of thick wire. I could have gotten a big plastic pair of Betsy Johnson glasses for about $50, but Yee-Gads, that would be like walking around with a wind shield on my face and I’m sure I’d have to coat the lenses with Rain-X and walk around with a squeegee in my back pocket during rainy days.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

My New Jones


You know how when you sometimes mix two things together you often get a concoction that is totally disgusting like bourbon and root beer, but then there are pleasant surprises like peanut butter and chocolate, honey and mustard and so on. I have discovered the new perfect combination and I can't get enough of it. I was recently having a quesadilla and on the side of the plate I put down a dollop of sour cream next to a splash of raspberry chipolte sauce. The more I dipped between them the more mixed they became. The sweet and tangy chipolte was mellowed by the creaminess of the sour cream.

I know it has been said with sour cream people will eat their own fingers, but with this combination I'd be tempted to eat just about anything.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Guns


OK, I’m sure I’m going to upset you gun nuts out there, but I think it is really time to outlaw guns. They need to be rounded up and melted down. Yep even that family gun that has been around for generations has to go.

Tonight as I watched the news there is a memorial service for the 13 that were killed in Fort Hood. John Muhammad is going to be executed for being the DC sniper and there was an invasion shooting in a laboratory in Tualitin and there was a standoff with a guy holding hostages with a gun in upper New York State. Every day there is more of the same.

I don’t care if you think the Constitution says it’s OK. It isn’t OK. I don’t care if you are no longer afforded the luxury of “gittin yer elk” from a half mile away. If you want to kill be a hunter be brave and go after one with a hatchet.

I’ve stated it before and I’ll state it again. I have never been anywhere or in a situation where a gun would have come in handy and I bet you haven’t either unless you are in a dangerous business. If fewer guns are out there people will feel like there is a lesser need for them. It will probably take decades to ferret out all of them, but if we don’t start somewhere it’s only going to get worse. Kevlar is not fashionable.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

A Public Safety Question


I have a question for you safety geeks out there. Why is it when an ambulance is called to assist and or transport someone they also sent out a fire truck? Is spontaneous human combustion a bigger problem than has been previously reported?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Burning Season


Heather wrote last week about a leaf burning incident that went very badly, which reminded me of a fire I started last year.

I was always curious how loggers could start a slash fire that could burn so hot even when all the debris was wet and green. The secret is to use an old tire at the base and pour on a mixture of gasoline and used motor oil.

I’m not big on burning tires so last year I poured a one gallon mixture on a wet brush pile and I ignited it with a propane flame thrower. The pile burned until the fuel ran out, so I waited a couple of weeks until the pile dried a little more.

The next time I poured two gallons of the gas oil mixture all around the pile and when I ignited it there was a big WOOOOOSH sound that nearly knocked me off my feet. Neighbors came out to see if I was OK. They said their windows rattled and they were a little frightened when they looked out and saw the mushroom cloud rising in the atmosphere.

I think if I ever use two gallons again I’ll ignite it with a road flair from a further distance.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Retreads


While driving for several hours on I-5 yesterday I did my usual road survey of what sort of junk was sitting on the side of the road. There was a mattress and box spring set. There were a couple of coolers and some tarps and sheet plastic. In the road kill department there were two raccoons and a deer. Not bad. I’ve seen worse debris before.

One thing I was shocked by was the amount of tire retreads. I don’t think a mile passed without seeing a big chunk if not entire bands of tire tread. It made me wonder why any trucker would want to use a re-treaded tire. It seems like a major safety issue, though with all the highway driving I’ve done over the last 37 years I’ve never seen a retread or a cap come off a truck. However the highway is littered with them.

I figured I’d visit a web site about retreads, also known as recaps and I found some interesting stats about this product and process. A new truck tire sells for around $275 and a recap costs $90. The per-mile cost $0.00076 for a new tire and $0.00042 for the recap. Making retreads saves over 400 million gallons of oil in North America as opposed to if they were producing full tires.

The site made the recap sound like a good deal, but I still wouldn’t use them on my vehicles. Maybe I would use them on my lawn mower. With all the rubber I saw on the side of the road I can’t imagine that it could be cost effective in comparison with the inconvenience and the down time created when one loses a tread. Had I collected all the recaps along the highway I could have easily filled the bed of my truck within 30 miles.

Monday, November 09, 2009

PIA


Fortunately I spend a lot of time alone. This way when I find something really amusing and I start laughing to myself or at myself, no one is there to view me as a lunatic. It happens pretty often. Sometimes if I am driving I have to pull over until I can get a grip.

Unfortunately, when I am with people I have to stifle my laughter because most times the things I laugh at are so bizarre that I wouldn’t want to explain to people exactly what was amusing me. If I did explain my laughter and thoughts I’d find myself alone more often, which could be a good thing I suppose.

This morning I was fortunately alone when I got to laughing about the phrase, “pain in the ass.” How often have you heard this phrase? Probably several times a day, but if you think about it, it is a pretty funny thing to say. Though I’m sure that having a pain in ones’ ass must be a miserable thing, it perfectly describes people and external situations quite well. It isn’t terminal, just inconvenient. It’s a pain in the ass and that says it all, even the comedy of it says it all in a funny way.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Crazy


If you think about it, over our lifetimes we have all met more than out share of people that are absolutely bat shit crazy. We’ve probably even considered ourselves bat shit crazy from time to time. It is usually obsessive behavior that is the key indicator in this determination.

Though obsession is the basis for a lot of comedy, sometimes obsession is more frightening than comedy will allow.

I’m sure this has happened to us all at one time as well; where we were stuck somewhere with a crazy person. We are their captive audience. They could be in the seat next to you on a flight, or next to you in a waiting room for a medical appointment. Maybe it’s the captivation which leads to Stockholm syndrome, but somehow these people start making sense. Sometimes you can see a beam of genius shining out from their torment. Sometimes you can walk away with a new perspective on life.

Then again, sometimes you still want to gnaw off your leg and change seats.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Follow Through


There is one thing you can count on with some people and that is that you can never count on them. Why do we even have that glimmer of faith that they will actually come through someday when we know they never will? Never, never, never … ever.

I’m sure I’m not the only person they let down. It’s in their genetic makeup to never follow through on commitments. Their promises seem so promising. You’d figure that by now they would have been totally banished from society, yet we stand hopeful that one day they will surprise us by following through on something.

Friday, November 06, 2009

While the Sun Shines


I’ve written here before about the old adage of making hay while the sun shines. We have now entered the time of year where sunshine is a rare commodity in Oregon. We have moved from a situation where it was sunny every day into a situation where it is sunny a couple days a week and will soon plunge into sunny only when there is a full moon or the first crescent phase of moon. Keep track; no matter how dismal the weather can become here it usually clears up for the full moon and for the first crescent moon phase.

Weather predictions here aren’t bad at a two day glance. More than two days is always a crap shoot, but I faithfully check out the weather so I can plan when to do certain activities. For instance I love line drying my laundry. Sometimes I will get dangerously close to the edge of wearing those tie dye underwear in hopes of finding the perfect laundry day.

Maybe I should give up since the sun is at such a low angle in the sky. I often have to finish the clothing in the drier, but nature is still doing most of the work.

I have a little digging to do this weekend and I’m hoping that I’ll be able get it done between the showers. I don’t dig digging in the rain, but I really don’t dig having to take a flash light out to feed the chickens and gather the eggs in the morning and in the evening. I need to run an electric cable underground from the greenhouse to the coop.

The shorter rainy days are great for catching up on rest and to prevent me from over-doing it as I do all summer, but I will pack on ten pounds over the winter. I always do. Though naps are planned I still want to spend the winter pulling scotch broom and building some new equipment in the shop. Wish me luck between the drops.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Old Fashioned is Often Better



I remember growing up thinking that the phrase “Old Fashioned” sounded so bad. When I heard the phrase the first thing that came to mind was the Winter Sisters. They were two old spinsters that my father bought who our house from. They dressed in Victorian garb, long black dresses, laced boots and black head bonnets. To me that was old fashioned.

Somehow the term, “Old Fashioned” has gone from a term to describe that which is archaic to that which is quality or retro. I’m sure the redefinition came about because of the nostalgic Baby Boomers that have seemed to redefine so much to accommodate their fond memories or to remake not so fond memories into to something better.

Some products have become “New and Improved” over the years, however most of them never needed to be. I’ve been doing a little research on an old thing I grew up with and found myself shocked at the revised image. This would be the image of Bazooka Joe.



If you grew up when I did you could expect a “swell” prize in your Cracker Jacks and you could expect a Bazooka Joe Comic when you opened your Bazooka Bubblegum. The photos above are of Bazooka Joe and his turtle-necked friend Mort from 1954 until 1981.




Look what they did to Joe and poor Mort in 1983. Mort looks like a character in Pogo




They didn't have any new comics from 1986 - 1988, but when they returned in 1989 they had this for the next ten years.




Finally this is the way they look in the present and have looked this way since 2000. With Mort they are obviously going for an amalgamation of R. Crumb, Bill Griffith, Grim Natwick and Dr. Seuss. Were these changes really necessary?

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Are We Happy?


With all the Walmart* stuff going on around here I cringed recently when I saw their little smiley face logo. Not because Walmart is evil, which it is and I feel they do have every right to build here, but I will still shop with local family run businesses and plan to never set foot in one of their stores. I cringed because it brought back a very strange memory.

Back when I lived on the East Coast I hung out with a lot of professional musicians. I got to do some recording and production, which was fun, but the world of music can be really strange. My friend Mark, a studio musician and I were hired by a guy to come to his house and record him singing some standard tunes. This guy lived in a very affluent town and from the looks of things this guy never worked a day in his life, but rather relied on his parents for his extravagant behaviors.

We knew he was extravagant when we walked into his kitchen. He told us he’d be ready in a minute as he pulled cookie sheets out of the oven. On the cookie sheets were rows of these little wax or plastic yellow circles with happy faces on them. Each was about the size of a silver dollar. “I’m going to be selling these for a buck a piece.” I have thousands made already… OK, we thought…

The guy is finally ready for us and leads us down into his basement where he has a mock stage set up. There was an elevated wooden floor, curtains made of sparkly material, a microphone on a stand, two stools (for sitting, not shit) and stage lights with colored filters. This guy was starting to frighten me.

I dragged a table over for my equipment, and ran some wires to the amp and the PA to have a hot feed on my board. I also set up microphones for the other two tracks. I always liked ambient sound tracks as an underlay. Over the next hour I listened to him singing standards like, Fly Me To the Moon and Satin Doll with the accompaniment of Mark’s guitar.

All and all it was a pretty clean session. It was easy to mix and make a demo cassette for him. His check cleared and no one got hurt. However every time I see one of those freaky smiley faces a chill runs up my spine. This guy was inventing himself trying several things to make himself useful. I wonder what ever happened to him. I wonder if he ever sold any of those happy faces.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

BBCLRSAE


Everyone has something they excel in. I’m good with a lot of stuff, but there are only a few things I excel in. One of them would be Scrabble. Though I haven’t played anyone in years, I still have the game entwined in my total being.

My wife has a scrabble application on her cell phone and while we were out for a long drive she opened up the game. As I drove she played and she would occasionally ask what can I do with these letters…? My mind is able to retain and rearrange the letters. I can form them into words in my head and then I can decide which words would collect the highest score. I asked her if there were certain lead in letters on the board that I can connect to. I asked her what open letters could lead to double word or triple word scores. It wasn’t just about using up letters. It was about strategy and higher scores.

She was amazed that I was able to do this while driving without looking at the letters or the board. She wanted to know how I developed this skill. I told her it was all due to time spent. While my friends were spending all their time getting their graduate degrees I was playing scrabble. Now few of them are working in their fields of study and I rarely ever play the game. Kind of sad, isn’t it?

Monday, November 02, 2009

Sick Day XXX


Who got hurt?

With two thirds of local recall campaigns finished it is time to access the winners and the losers and who was injured. First, there were no winners.

The minor injuries go to the River Keepers who exposed their ugly underbelly for all to see. This group went beyond singing to the choir; they went on a venomous assault. It is one thing to want to protect our water ways, but another thing to try upset politics of a county where generations of people have made their living on the river. Theirs was a campaign of vengeance because they know perfectly well that it is far too late to stop LNG development on the Columbia River. The River Keepers will probably now swim back up stream because of the futility, financial drain and relative ineffectiveness of their efforts here.

One with a major injury is the Daily Astorian. It is one thing print an editorial opposing something, but this news paper went far beyond editorial opposition. It constantly hammered away at issues making news were there wasn’t a story. The paper was accused of not printing letters from proponents of recall candidates or other related issues. The paper stated that they print 99.9% of all letters received, however many have come forward stating they don’t. Doing the math from the five people that told me their letters were never published, this would mean that the Daily Astorian had to have published nearly 500 letters in the last two months in order for them to exclude .01%. This paper has lost most if not all the credibility that it once had under the previous management of the publisher’s parents.

The next with major injuries is Ann Samuelson. I will agree that we have seen Ann shoot herself in the foot on more than one occasion. She has yet to learn that discretion is the better part of valor. Though she has been very passionate proactive in dealing with issues in the county that need to be dealt with, she has also been very reactive to things that spontaneously popped up. There were things that could have waited for a better time to address or not address after sleeping on them. Many of these things would have been better left alone. Ann can rebuild her political career. Being her loss was so close by only four votes tells me there are a lot of people that didn’t drink the poison that was passed out and can see deeper meaning to what she has achieved in the bigger picture outside of land use decisions. She is an advocate for mental health and when the power went out for weeks in her district last winter she got people from the rest of the county to lend generators to people in her district. She also got firewood for those in need. She has energy and the ability to motivate people. I'd be willing to bet that if the recount does not favor her; she could get her seat back if she ran for it again in May.

Finally the biggest injuries were inflicted upon we the citizens of Clatsop County. We not only had to foot the bill for this four-vote folly, but we got to live in an extremely toxic political environment that we’ve been living in since before the 4-123 campaign. One writer on the KAST forum says that one can’t help but think the recalls have a direct relation. When the dots are connected with the cast of characters this picture does come into view. Hopefully this will now be drawing to a close.

Another bit of collateral damage of Ann’s recall was the political across-the-aisle cooperation. Yes, the County Commission is supposed to be a non-partisan board, but party affiliation is hard to mask in the decision process. It makes us sick when we citizens see the partisanship in politics where lines are drawn in the sand with them on one side and us on the other. This mind set washes out all the good intention of any project. Ann was able to work with everyone as opposed to the other Democrat on the Board of Commissioners who seems to vote against things because the others are voting for it. Ann is Democrat, but the Democrat Party of Clatsop County shunned her for reaching across the aisle to get things done. Their narrow minded effort lost them some members and credibility. They need to be more inclusive than exclusive; however I doubt they will come to this conclusion with their present leadership. They shouldn’t be patting themselves on the back for this shallow victory of ousting one of their own.

The entire county has been wounded except for those that print signs and flyers, or collect advertising revenue, but they too have to live here and do business under a pall that covers our County. What business would possibly want to locate here with the toxic political and social environment as it presently stands? Maybe that is the underlying intent to keep business out and to guide the County back down the road of a bad economy where it has been so often in the past.

I recently heard a sound byte on the radio of one of the anti activists at a planning meeting where an entrepreneur was talking about building some stores on his land across from Fred Meyer. This activist said, "Just what we need, another strip mall." Need it or not, are you willing to put up a road block to someone legally pursuing their American Dream? Do you want to remove the liberty of free enterprise?

Yeah, back to nature is all well and good but the anti people fail to see that they are consumers too. In order to use a piece of toilet paper you have employed a land owner, a logger, a truck driver, mill workers, a buyer and a retailer, and you supported the infrastructure such as chain saw manufacturers, roads, factories, delivery trucks and retail stores. The market determines where there is an over saturation of these things.

Look if you want to save the salmon, stop eating them. If you want to save the trees, buy some land and plant some trees and don't cut them down. Stop buying poster board for your signs. If you don't want a strip mall somewhere buy the land from under the developer. Just quit whining.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

I'm From New Jersey


OK, here is the last New Jersey that I pulled from the rotation two weeks ago:

There are a few of us who live here that come from New Jersey. You can tell we are New Jersey Ex-pats when ever this John Gorka song comes on the radio. We perk up a bit, quietly. We aren’t the type to stand up and salute, yet we still have reverence for where we once lived.
John Gorka, I’m From New Jersey.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Last Words and Rocks In My Head


Sometimes I have to wonder why anyone would ever want to have an email discussion with me. I recently helped our friend Darev with a technical issue and this is the conversation that ensued.

Darev: That works. Cool. You Rock

Me: Sometimes I rock and sometimes I stone.

Darev: Just as long as nobody is taking you for granite...... hee hee hee!

Me: You are igneous.

Darev: Now you're just giving me shist. I didn't expect that kind of sediment from you....You realize we could be at this for days, don't you?

Me: I can only sand so much. I'll remove it from my slate.

Darev: Ok, you win. You ground me down. I gravel before your genius. And I have to go to work.

Me: Rock on!

Friday, October 30, 2009

Haunting


I got an email this week from a new Rust reader asking me if I knew anything about the Astoria Elks Ballroom and if I had heard anything about it being haunted.

Funny thing about haunting; either you believe it or you don't. When I was much younger I worked in a Jacobean mansion for ten years. There were all sorts of stories about this place, however having worked there at all different hours as a librarian and as night watchman I never saw anything out of the ordinary except for the behavior of the priests that lived there.

The closest thing I've ever experienced which some may call a haunting was a creepy feeling I once felt on top of Mt Washington in New Hampshire. There were no ghostly images, it just felt creepy being there. It was cold and grey moonscape. There was a story in Yankee Magazine once about how creepy that mountain is.

The only other time I got totally creeped out was once when I was hiking in New York State in an area called Sterling Forest. I found myself in a laurel swamp where I had to bend over to walk through the laurels and I also had to step high over the low branches. This place was littered with thousands of deer antlers as though it were a bone yard. It was cool and I collected a half dozen interesting racks, but it seemed the more racks I collected the more lost I became and the thicker and more difficult the brush was to navigate through. Even looking back to where I had just come from it seemed like the trail closed into a wall behind me. I got the feeling that I shouldn’t be removing any of the antlers and as soon as I put them down the sun shined on a path for my exit. I left and never returned and I never shared the location with anyone.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

I'm A What? No Way, No How!


I recently wrote about a local controversial topic where I live and believe it or not I don’t even recall what it was now, either something about LNG or the twisted people trying to recall several of the County Commissioners over a totally legal land use decision they made.

Regardless of the topic, the piece generated a lot of comments and even more personal email to me than usual. Someone mentioned that I was a journalist. I had to laugh, because I am only a journalist in the respect of Astoria-Rust is like a personal journal to me. It’s actually more like a diary to me so maybe I am actually a Diarrheaist.

Upon further thought I should never be confused as being a journalist and neither should the staff or a particular local paper. After all I reply to comments often with the words “Douche Bag” included in my reply. Christ, I even called people Puking Ass Clowns in that post. What journalist does that?

The funniest comment was emailed to me the next day. The reader said something like, “You write this article and get everyone thinking and reconsidering their position and instead of following up the next day with more of the same, you write about taffy. WTF?”

True and that crossed my mind when I opened the post the next day as well. I laughed at myself over it. I write these posts long in advance and after a day or two I forget what I have coming up. Sometimes I even shock myself at the ridiculous juxtapositioning of the articles. I can’t even imagine what article will come after this one.

Moving on…

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

For The Ladies Only


OK, ladies. It’s just you and me talking here. I know I’m not a woman, though I have been in touch with my feminine side. Syd and Trop have inducted me into a special club where I am considered an honorary lesbian, so I have no reasons of malice by wanting you ladies to answer a question about your secret lady language that men aren’t privy to.

I have been called “Mister Man” by three women that I can remember, and I’ve heard other men called the same by other women. What the hell is Mister Man? Is it an insult? Is it a denotation and recognition of a superiority complex or over-inflated ego?

Come on, Ladies, fill a fella in, please!