My Thoughts on the Hobby Lobby Decision

In regards to the recent decision by the Supreme Court, it seems to me that all these "media outlets" are spending a great deal of time stretching the facts on a couple points.  Those are that Hobby Lobby is trying to control the reproductive rights of their employees, and force their belief system on them as well. Saying that makes great headlines and triggers strong emotions, but I don't see how these are valid arguments.

First of all, the decision was about whether or not the government can force a family-owned business to provide their employees health insurance options that go against their personal beliefs. No matter what the health insurance provided by a company offers or doesn't offer it doesn't mandate what you can or cannot do to your body. That is dictated by your personal belief system, what you can afford, and sometimes, federal regulations that limit what we can or cannot do. All insurance does is give us another entity that is willing to pay all, some, or sometimes none of our medical expenses. If our insurance doesn't cover something we or our families need, it is up to us to provide that, not our employer.

Second, while companies of a certain size are required to offer health care to their employees, an employee is not bound to use it. Many companies offer incentives like paying for a portion of the premiums, or contributing to the employee's Health Savings Account. They do this to entice employees to work for them. We, as employees have the responsibility to make sure we get the pay and benefits that provide for ourselves and our families, and they align with our personal beliefs. If you don't like the health insurance offered by a company we can still get our own. We can't go without anymore, that choice was taken away by the federal government and the Affordable Care Act.

Ultimately, the decision of who I work for is mine alone. If I find out that a company I want to work for has policies that go against what I believe, or does not provide the benefits I or my family need, I'm going to rethink my decision.

What I’ve Learned

As I prepare to retire from 26 years of service in the Air Force, I think back on what I have learned throughout my career.  I found that learning came in many forms; classes from software and hardware vendors, hands-on work, military courses, and the list goes on.  Some things I would learn on the first try, but most times is was only through repetition that I would prevail. 

In basic training I learned what it would take to be a good Airman.  Apparently folding your underwear in 6” squares is critical to our nation’s defense.  Not only did you have to fold it a specific way, but you had to stack them up with the biggest one on the bottom.  We had regular inspections to make sure we folded everything just right, and spent our spare time folding and refolding until we thought it was perfect.  At the end of the 6 weeks I was quite the expert.  After another 26 years my wife probably wonders where that knowledge has gone.  What I really learned is that attention to detail is important.  Take nothing for granted, no matter how insignificant it might seem.

It my technical training I learned what it would take to be a good computer operator in the Air Force.  Apparently, in spite of everything I learned in college, 80-column punch cards were all the rage.  We learned how to put data on cards, how to read the cards, and even how to program the card punch (using a punched card) to make our data entry work easier.  What I really learned is that you need to recognize when your current solution is no longer the way to get the job done.  Don’t just continue down the same path because “that’s the way we’ve always done it.”  Always look for ways to improve what you do.

I also learned how to communicate well.  For starters, timing is everything.  When you are eating a nice Valentine’s Day dinner, prepared by your loving wife, it is not a great time to mention that you have orders for a new assignment in California.  Also, consider your audience when choosing your words.  When my supervisor was counseling me about how I talked to a customer once, I believe her exact words were, “Gary, just because someone is stupid you don’t need to tell them that.”  My immediate response was, “Yes, you do.  they need to know when they are being stupid.”  Needless to say, they found me a job where I didn’t work directly with customers.

Throughout the years after that first assignment I took those lessons, and many more, and honed my leadership skills under the tutelage of many supervisors and commanders, but mostly from my peers.  They are the ones who managed to mold that young, outspoken Airman into the Senior NCO you see today.  Over that time I lived in Michigan, California (twice), Texas, Belgium, and Alabama.  Mixing and mashing many cultures, customs, and traditions into an experience, and an accent, that is uniquely mine.  But, I digress.

When I arrived at my final duty station I learned the most important lesson of all.  I was a little hesitant about this assignment because I had not worked in a largely “military” organization for many years.  Little did I know that I still wouldn’t before I retired.  The place was full of new airmen, freshly arrived from their technical training.  As I got to know each of them, my anxiousness diminished.  I realized that they were looking to me and other senior leaders for validation and direction, the same thing I was looking for 26 years ago.  I remembered what I was like at that point in my career and suddenly realized I had become that old, crusty Master Sergeant.  The final clue dropped during a conversation with them one afternoon.  We started talking about when they were born.  Much to my dismay I learned that only one of them had been born prior to me coming on active duty.  It was at that moment that I looked back and understood the tired looks on the faces of the Non-Commissioned Officers that I worked for so many years ago.  I learned it was time to go, and let the new guard take over.

My Wife, The Forensic Scientist

So many people say that television will rot your brain.  In some ways I agree.  As a child I we had only 3 channels, all in living color.  My dad bought a state-of-the-art device that allowed him to adjust the aerial remotely.  This meant there was a remote chance of picking up additional channels.  Those of us who were kids in the pre-cable days remember the anguish of the State of the Union address which meant the President was on all of the channels and there really was “nothing on”.  That was before cable television invaded our homes.  Now we have more than 100 channels to choose from, many of them dedicated to a single topic, like golf, sports, and even news.  Television may rot our brains, but sometimes it can teach us valuable tools.

My wife is a big fan of the mystery genre. Not only does she enjoy reading those types of books she also likes the TV shows. Some of our favorites shows are Castle, The Closer, Bones, and The Glades. She is good at solving many of the murders before they get to the end.  Her mind just works that way.  Me, I usually solve it exactly when the reveal it at the end of the show, don’t you?

Anyway, one evening we were watching TV when I noticed some bright spots on the screen.  My first reaction was, “oh no, the TV is broken.”  Most people would be happy for an excuse to buy a new set, but I would rather put the money into home improvements.  I walked over to the TV and took a closer look.  When I touched the bright spot, I discovered it was a liquid of some kind.  It was clear and odorless, but I wasn’t sure if it was tasteless or not.  Relieved that the TV wasn’t broken I stood back up.  I noticed that there will similar drops on the picture hanging on the wall behind the TV and on the wall too.  My first impulse was to check for a leak in the ceiling right above the fan, but there was nothing there.  I needed to investigate more. I looked at the drops on the wall and they seemed to have the same properties.  When I asked Debi what she thought she reminded me that the dog had just gone crazy trying to shake the stuffing out of one of her toys.  My first reaction was that it was dog spit; suddenly relieved that I didn’t check for a discernable taste.  She then points out a trail of water coming from the animals’ drinking fountain into the living room.  Upon further investigation she noticed the toy the dog was playing with was wet.  Next, came the flashback montage where she explained what happened.

She threw the toy into the kitchen.  The toy landed partially in the drinking fountain.  The dog picks it up and runs into the living room, leaving a trail of water behind.  The dog displays her rage by viciously shaking the toy splattering the wall and TV.  Mystery solved.  I guess I should continue to pay the cable bill.

Play it again Sam

Before anyone writes to me and tell me that the quote I used for the title of this piece is wrong, rest assured I know that.  I have seen Casablanca and remember what Rick said in the movie, but that is not what this is all about.

Over the last year I found that I listen to live radio less and less.  I can’t find a station that will play the music I want to listen to at the time I want to hear it.  I also discovered the wonderful world of podcasts.  I typically listen to books read by their author(http://www.podiobooks.com), and sermons by prominent Christian teachers.  With the invention of the MP3 player and the ability to carry your entire music collection in your pocket, why would you listen to radio?

Nowadays radio is filled with “jibber-jabber”, commercials, and outlandish contests rather than hours upon hours of music.  Much like what happened to MTV, for those of you who remember it when it started; but I digress.  I prefer to plug in my MP3 player and decide what to play, or just put it on shuffle.  If I don’t like what’s playing I just hit the “next” button and something else plays.  You can’t do that with live radio!

Anyway, my wife and I were on our way to Mobile to visit our daughter at college; it’s a 3-hour drive, a 3-hour drive [thunder crash/lightening flash].  Sorry to all of you who never watched Gilligan’s Island.  We just turned on the radio for the trip and were rewarded with a variety of songs including Elton John, One Republic, some commercials, and mention of a contest for tickets to a local play.  About 30 minutes into the trip the John Tesh show came on with a good mix of music and interesting tidbits about how to improve your life.

A short time later we stopped for breakfast and to stretch our legs.  I know it is a relatively short drive, but the older you get the more you need to stop and stretch.  When we were back on the road, we noticed that the John Tesh show was not on anymore.  We thought it odd, but what can you do?  Then we noticed that they were playing the same music, commercials, and contest notices that was on when we started the trip.  This continued when the John Tesh show started about 30 minutes later, again with the exact material that was broadcast earlier.  Unfortunately by the time that show was getting to new material the signal was fading; and so began the search for something else to listen to.

Ketchup Packets

I thought I would begin this piece with an interesting story about when the ketchup packet was invented, and who is responsible for this revolutionary liquid distribution system.  Unfortunately, I could find nothing on the internet that came from a source I could rely on.  Granted, my attention span is short, and I could probably find something if I spent more than a few minutes searching.  Anyway, on with my story.

This invention gave us an easy way to distribute condiments while ensuring the people don’t waste the product.  You find restaurants that use them to distribute ketchup, mustard, soy and hot sauce, and even relish.  You would think that would be the end to the usefulness.  But no, some genius found a use for this method of distribution which is iffy at best.  Which brings me to the point of this rambling.  A personal experience with something that should not be distributed in ketchup packets. 

Recently I decided to go a little cheap on a hotel since it was only me and I wasn’t going to spend that much time in the room.  When I checked into my room, after a long hot day touring the campus and listening to the various department heads talk, the first thing on my mind was taking a shower.  I headed to the bathroom when much to my dismay I found the shampoo…in a ketchup packet.  I pondered this for a moment, hoping it would just tear open without the need to use my teeth.  Well, Murphy’s Law was working against me that day and the simple tear-off-the-corner-with-my-fingers technique failed.  Now it was decision time, do I risk tearing it open with my teeth and ingesting some unknown brand of shampoo or just use the bar of soap?  I decided to throw caution to the wind and open the packet with my teeth.  It did turn out favorable for me.  I was able to tear the corner enough that I finished the job with my fingers and ended up with clean hair.

I think it is safe to say that I will go back to hotels that offer shampoo in bottles.  I don’t want to be there when Murphy’s Law succeeds and I end up eating the shampoo.

Shameless Plug - Borrowed Time Podiobook

I was listening to my friend Keith's Time Out podcast this morning and he asked for people to review his podiobook, Borrowed Time, on their blogs. You can find his podiobook on his website penslinger.com/, at podiobooks.com, or your can subscribe through iTunes or the Zune Marketplace. Wow, 4 shameless plugs for web sites; I think that is a record for a single sentence. Anyway, he said that he would shower anyone who did that with thanks and praise. Well, I'm not one to pass an opportunity to feel the warm glow of appreciation, but first I must digress.

Podiobooks.com is great place to get free audiobooks. This site encourages folks to write and record their books, and gives them a place to publish and distribute their work. I have listened to more than 10 stories and am going back for more. The recordings range from a simple reading of the story to something like radio shows of the past with voice acting and background sounds. The site gives you the opportunity to show your appreciation to the authors by donating money that goes to support the site and the author as well. One of their biggest success stories is the 7th Son series, which caught the attention of a publisher and is now available in print. It goes to show the caliber of writers that publish here. If you have a long commute and a short budget for entertainment, check out the site and find a story that make the miles go by faster.

Now, back to the reason I am writing. Borrowed Time is a time-travel adventure that takes place in the great state of Michigan. Nestor “Ness” Relevant is a photographer who receives a package from an old college professor. The package contains a PDA that allows Ness to time travel, but with limitations. Throughout his adventure he uses the device to help him get out of sticky situations, visit his past, and get one foot up on the bad guys. But enough about the story, no sense spoiling the plot before you listen to it.

Keith takes a new angle on time travel that kept the story moving and the listener guessing. Each time Ness got into a tight spot you wondered how, or if, he would use the device to escape. He didn't use time travel as a crutch giving the listener a good mix of adventure and sci-fi all wrapped up in a neat package. The story is not long and moved at a good pace. The only time I wanted him to move the story faster was at the end of each episode. There were many times when he left the listener hanging and anxious to know what would happen next. He did a good job of making character voices distinct so it was easy to tell them apart, and added variety to his reading. The only detractor for me was when Keith did the voice of a female character. I had an image in my head that was akin to Eric Idle playing a woman in a Monty Python skit. There are also companion episodes that follow the progress of the story. He discussed the story, how he worked his ideas onto “paper”, and presented feedback from listeners. These were fun to listen to, especially when he included the blooper reel. You got an idea just how much work went into making this podcast.

Overall I really enjoyed Borrowed Time, and am looking forward to more of Keith's podcasts. Check it out, you won't be sorry.

Who Provides Your Comfort

Comfort, as with most things, has a different meaning for many people. I, for example, like my “Wicked Warm” slippers from L.L. Bean. They keep my feet warm; sometimes to the point that I have to take them off because my feet get too hot. I like them enough that I reattach the sole and the upper piece with new a leather thong every few years when the thong breaks and the pieces start to fall apart. We tend to surround ourselves this things we love (or think we love) and people who love us to give us that warm fuzzy feeling.

Some people are satisfied with the basics needs; a roof over their head, a bed to sleep in, and a hot meal. My wife is happy with a comfortable chair, a soft blanket, and a good book; especially if it involves a patch of warm sunlight. Others seek comfort in basic wants; a large high definition television attached to an array of speakers that will rattle the windows, a shiny new car every couple of years, or a house so large that the master bedroom and living room are in different zip codes. If you do that, then you need to seek mental comfort by buying insurance for all those things; how else are they going to get your “comfort” back if it is stolen or destroyed by a fire, flood, or other disaster?

Fortunately there is one source of comfort that it always available, no matter what it going on in your life. Take a moment and read the following passage from the Bible; one of my favorites.

Matthew 6:25-34

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Bottom line? Trust God, He loves you and will provide you lasting comfort.

Commuting – NASCAR or Simple Driving?

I have lived many places, and experienced many types of driving. While each place is different I have noticed certain elements of NASCAR racing in each of them. Now don't get me wrong, I am not one to turn down the opportunity to execute an out-in-out maneuver on a turn that is rated way below the speed I am driving. There is the satisfaction of maintaining as much speed as possible to shoot out of the turn and pull ahead of the person driving behind you.

One clear example is the rush-hour freeways of Los Angeles. There are so many cars there that people drive literally bumper-to-bumper, something with mere centimeters separating them. Granted, they are moving slower than a snail with nowhere in particular to go. There isn't much danger of a serious crash unless the person coming up on the miles of crawling traffic fails to notice this and can't slow down in time. I was that person once driving in Belgium, that is a story for another time. I'll just say I was not at fault in the collision with either of the cars that hit me.

Another example is one I see on my drive to work in Montgomery (Alabama for those of you that have not had the fortune of living in the south). Some drivers are in such a hurry that they weave in and out of the lanes like a seasoned racer. Sometimes as many as two lanes over and back again. The difference is that many drivers use their turn signals, some do not. This goes against the typical southern stereotype of taking things slow. Personally, I just set my cruise control on 65mph (5 mph below the limit) and enjoy the show.

Finally, I go back to my time driving in Brussels, Belgium. There are two examples from that experience that I will share. First, most of the problem lies in the fact that there are people from many different countries, each with their inherited driving rules and customs. While the EU has managed to get most countries on one currency, they have a long way to go to get them all driving the same way. The other thing that contributes to the NASCARiness (yes, I made up that word) of European driving is that cars are generally smaller outside the United States. You can fit more of them in a single lane than you normally can. I have seen as many as 3 or 4 “lanes” where there are typically 2. As long as everyone fits on the track, I mean road, no harm no foul.

So on that note I leave you with this final thought; commuting is just like NASCAR except there are turn signals...some times.

Gool Ole Southern Cookin'

One of the things I enjoy as I move somewhere new is the local cuisine (be sure to say that last word with a French accent, it sounds better that way).

In San Antonio it was all the little Tex-Mex places that I went to the most. I tried a little menudo (cow stomach soup) , a little pisole (pork stew), and of course, fajitas. Who doesn't like a red-hot plate of sizzling steak, chicken, and peppers?

When we moved to Lompoc, California we got to enjoy "Santa Maria" style barbeque. A nice sirloin covered in garlic, salt, pepper, parsley, and other secret spices I think, slow-cooked over a red oak fire. Pile on some salad, piquinto beans, and garlic bread and you have a meal you could pick up on most street corners on any given weekend.

Belgium was another story, I tried moules et frites (mussels and french fries), the national dish and it wasn't bad. I only say that because I am not a big fan of shellfish. Everything else there was wonderful; the sugar waffles, the frites (with more sauce flavors than your average Baskin Robbins store has for ice cream), the pastries, and the beer.

Now I find myself in the south, Montgomery Alabama. Here I get to try things I only heard about growing up in Michigan. Things like grits, greens, fried okra, and incredible pulled pork barbeque. All very good dishes, in my humble opinion. I am just a fan of food.

Today, while driving to a doctor's appointment, I saw the sign at Hardee's advertising a new breakfast sandwich. The first thing that came to mind was the scene from "Sweet Home Alabama" when the groom's mother is meeting the bride's parents for the first time and her dad say something to his wife about getting the bologna ring out of the freezer. Now I'm not one to turn my nose at trying something new, but this one I may have to think about a little longer before I dive in and give the local "cuisine" a try.

Farmers Anonymous

I've recently been sucked in by the Facebook application Farmville. Why, you ask? As I look back in time (I'm not using that phrase because I subscribe to the podcast of "Borrowed Time" by Keith Hughes on iTunes, www.penslinger.com, and www.podiobooks.com), I can't think of a really good reason, other than peer pressure from friends and family. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that is always a good reason to do something. The picture comes to mind of a little boy looking up at his mother and she is asking him, "If Jimmy jumped off a cliff would you do that too?" But I digress. I tend to avoid these applications because the moment you start them, your inbox fills with gifts from everyone, even people who aren't your "neighbors".

Neighbors are another thing that doesn't make sense to me. Why, do you need more neighbors before you can expand the size of your farm? Typically, the more neighbors you have the harder it is to expand. You can't just pick up their belongings and say, "Sorry, you gotta move because my farm is getting bigger" and take over their land. That would have a serious ripple affect throughout the entire town. Maybe you should start with too many neighbors and you need to find ways to get them to sell you their farm so you can expand. Makes more sense to me.

One time-consuming aspect of this game is the economics. I spend way too much time analyzing each new crop I can grow. I determine net profit per day for each item to determine if will grow my money fast enough to either buy a

barn, or expand my farm further. For example, you purchase seeds for peppers for 70 coins per square, it costs 15 coins to plow a square of soil, and they are harvested in 1 day for 162 coins. That give me a net gain of 77 coins per day. Whereas you purchase seeds for cotton for 75 coins per square, it still costs 15 coins to plow a square of soil, and they are harvested in 3 days for 207 coins. That only net me 39 coins per day. Get the picture.

The hardest part for me is caused by my Monk-like tendencies. If you've seen the TV show, you're probably chuckling or even laughing out loud at this point. I need to keep each type of animal not only in a group together, but separated from the other types by a fence. The animals need to be in neat and even rows, and evenly distributed between the fence sections. I keep each type of tree arranged similarly, but without fences (who ever heard of fencing in trees, I know they don't get up and walk around..psshhh). I try to keep the plowed land in the exact center of the farm, in a square with four equal sides (of course), and don't plant more than one type of crop at a time. Then it gets tricky....

I EXPAND THE FARM !!

They don't expand the farm evenly on all sides. That would make the most sense. Noooo, they have to jam the existing farm into a corner and only expand the space on two sides. Now I have to spend my precious time moving everything around. Again, if you have seen Monk...I have to.

Anyway, here is a snapshot of getting everything arranged after the last expansion. I trying hard to not think about how the crops are growing at different rates and that there is too much open area near the bottom. Guess I just need to head to my inbox, accept some gifts, and carefully place them on my farm.

If you ever see me post a wish list for farm gifts, please understand...I need to keep the rows even!!!

Hope my luggage hits the jackpot!!

I spend the previous few days in the Washington D.C Metro area for a meeting, I still enjoy going there any chance I get.  The week was uneventful until Friday.  I spent the morning at the Pentagon ("That funny building with four walls and a spare" Col Sherman T. Potter, 4077 MASH) and got back to my hotel room with plenty of time to finish packing and get to the airport for my return.

I planned to get to the airport 2 hours ahead of my departure time so I wouldn't be rushed.  I got there to discover there were no lines anywhere.  I got to the gate almost 2 hours before my scheduled departure.  The good thing was I had enough time to get lunch, still a good day.

We boarded the plane, pulled away from the gate, and headed for the runway.  Then the plane stopped.  We had a short delay (1.25 hours) while we waited for the weather around Atlanta to clear.  I started making some calculations and determined I would not make my connecting flight to Montgomery.  No problem; I never pick the last flight into anywhere just in case.  I figured my luggage wouldn't make the flight either so there was nothing to worry about.

When we arrived in Atlanta, I checked the departure board and discovered my flight was delayed.  This is good since I now do not have to do the "O.J. Simpson" through the airport to get to my gate.  I took a leisurely stroll, called my wife and told her my new arrival time.  The closer I got to my gate I started to get concerned.  The place was packed with way too many people.  Notices on the screens alerted people to gate changes, flight delays, and other flying maladies.

My flight left on it's new scheduled departure and arrived at more or less that time it was supposed to.  I wandered over to baggage claim and spent the next 15 minutes watching other people pick up their bags and leave.  Sadly, I was not among them.  I shuffled over to the ticket counter and got in line with other sad-faced people.  I learned that my baggage was "delayed" and they would deliver it to me as soon as it arrived.  I was given a pre-printed brochure with a code written on it to track my bags.  

I didn't receive a call last night so I checked on my suitcase this morning.  Here is what they had to show me;

Delayed Baggage Status

Passenger Information

Passenger Last Name:

GOODMAN

File Reference Number:

MGMEV68124

Delivery Address:

109 EAST TERI CT PRATTVILLE AL 36066

Baggage Status & Delivery Information

Bag Tag Number:

DL115156

Status:

We have located this bag at Las Vegas, NV (LAS) airport and are scheduling it to be on a flight to your final destination. 
Please check back again for the delivery date and time of your bag.

I hope they wait until it hits a big jackpot before they send it back. Although, I do need my uniforms for work on Monday.

Lost? or Just Not Where I Need To Be?

On a recent trip to Mobile, AL I had a discussion with my wife; what is the difference between being lost, and not being in the place you need to be?  To defend my case, I enter the following exhibits into evidence.

Exhibit 1: Colorado Springs, Colorado May 1989

We were on our first cross-country trip, moving from Michigan to California.  We thought it would be a good idea to stop at Peterson AFB to fill up the gas tank and get a few supplies for the remainder of our trip.  It was such a long drive from the freeway to the base that I decided to take a shortcut back.  Long story short, I finally stopped for directions.  This was only after an hour or so of driving around Colorado Springs trying to find an on-ramp.  Clearly, I was lost.

Exhibit 2: near Füssen, Germany November 2006

We decided to take a family vacation in Bavaria, and drive.  It was only supposed to be about a 12-hour trek, including a stop at Ramstein AFB for gas and a meal.  I'm sure you're thinking, AHA!!, that is where you went wrong last time.  Unfortunately, that was not the problem.  The problem occurred when the sun went down and the snow started falling as we started driving in the Bavarian Alps.  Our maps weren't very detailed, and we ended up on a narrow winding road that was not on the map.  We really enjoyed the peaceful drive down the valley to a beautiful village; it looked like a Thomas Kincaid painting.  Couldn't say for sure if it was in Germany or Austria at that point, we were so close to the border.  Anyway, we made our way back to a main road and I stopped at a hotel to ask for directions.  Left turn from their parking lot, over the bridge, make an immediate right.  From there we followed the signs for Garmisch-Partenkirchen and arrived safely.  Again, clearly I was lost.

Those clearly are examples of what it is to be lost.  I didn't know where I was or how to get to where I needed to be.  One thing that might have helped was a Yooper Compass.  It is a snuff can with a mirror in the lid.  It doesn't show you where you are or where you are going, just who is lost.  This brings us to the event that sparked the discussion.

Exhibit 3: Mobile, Alabama February 2009.

We thought it would be nice to drive across the opening of Mobile Bay on our way  home.  We got on I-10 heading east and settled in for a leisurely drive.  We saw the Battleship USS Alabama, and miles of wetlands.  As we reached the other side, my wife looked at the map and told me which road I needed, to get back to I-65 and our way home.  I saw the sign for the exit, made a note of it, and proceeded to drive past it without exiting.  About 8-10 or so miles later we came upon the next exit and made out way back to the correct exit and took it this time.  Shortly after that, my wife told our daughter we weren't lost anymore.  Usually I accept being told I am lost, but only when I am truly lost.  This time I knew exactly where I was and how to get back to where I wanted to be, and even got there without getting more lost.  Clearly a case of not being in the place I needed to be.

The defense stands.

Sometimes I Shock Myself...Literally

I was sitting in the dentists chair today, with a giant syringe jammed into my jaw, when something experienced something I hadn't felt in a long time...an electrical shock running through my body.  I squirmed in the chair a little, and the dentist asked, "did you feel an electrical shock?" like it was something that happened every day.  I nodded, and he told me that he must have touched the nerve bundle he was trying to numb.  He then told me of another patient who almost launched out of the chair when he did that.  Guess I have a high tolerance for this kind of stuff.  

You might be asking yourself, what did he mean by "something I hadn't felt in a long time?"

Well, lets just say I've experimented with electricity now and again.  Once, me and some friends were out in the garage looking at this device that my dad had that generated an electric spark.  We attached the bare wire to a toy golf club and took turns holding the plastic handle while someone else threw the switch.  A little charge came through the staples that held the handle on,  and gave us a little jolt.  Silly me wasn't paying attention and my thumb touched the shaft of the golf club...yep, next thing I knew I was laying on the ground staring at the ceiling.

Another time involved a reading lamp bulb (the little ones), a 110V power cord (two-pronged, no ground), and a soldering gun (Dad's tool).  If you have any kind of imagination you know where this is going...small explosion of glass and filament.  Not too much of an electrical shock thankfully, since the cord was still plugged into the wall.  I think I tripped a circuit breaker with that one.

The last one I remember, there may be more but they might be erased, was while I was stationed at Vandenberg Air Force Base in California; your tax dollars at work.  I was running the telephone section at the time and was installing a new phone.  Silly me left one end of the phone cable plugged into the wall while I prepared the other end for a connector.  Someone tried calling that number while I was trimming the wires and pow! another shock.

The lesson of this story...don't stand next to me in a lightning storm.

Holy Roman Empire Invades Honolulu

Now that I have your attention, I'll bet many of you missed this section of your history books.  Well, this little ditty has to do with the last of the special state quarters issues by the U.S. Mint.  

The credit union where my wife works has many customers who come in to buy their presidential gold coins and state quarters.  One of the customers was asking about the final state quarter, the one for Hawaii.  One of her co-workers was trying to describe the design on the back by telling the person that it had one of those old Roman warriors on it.  He had the big cape and the fancy helmet.  I am sure that she was describing King Kamehameha, the man who established the kingdom of Hawai'i.  While his ceremonial outfit may be confused with Roman battle dress, it is hard to picture the Romans rowing across the ocean to the islands of Hawaii.

Anyway, she turned to another coworker, who majored in history, and asked her when the Roman Empire extended that far.  She replied, with a straight face, right after Troy sacked Guam.  Now, given that the Trojan Horse was made of wood, that tactic might have worked on Guam.  Although, seeing a giant horse swimming up to the shore might look a little suspicious.  Don't know, wasn't there.

"A Pox on Negative Campaigning" or "I Vote Therefore I Rant"

I don't know about the rest of you, but I am getting tired of the ads on the television telling me how bad the other candidate is. Each time one of these ads are played, it reminds me of my elementary school days; when kids would sling insults back and forth across the playground at recess. Of course, these folks take it to a whole new level.

In Alabama's 2nd Congressional district, one of the candidates promised he would not run a negative campaign. To his credit, I can't think of one negative ad that has the new sound bite-of-the-day stating who he is and that he approves this message (yes, my eyes roll each time I hear that). However, it sure didn't stop his national party (or his opponent's for that matter) from doing just that. These groups are stretching the truth to a point that it is about to snap. For example, one group states that the other guy, labeled a "restaurant multimillionaire" in the ad, did not provide health care to 80% of his employees. Of course the screen has a great deal of small print at the bottom, a disclaimer of some sort I’m sure. But, since I can't afford a television big enough to read the small print I did a little research on my own. I found out that he owns approximately 16 Subway sandwich shops, 80% of his employees are part-time, and part-time employees are not eligible for employer provided health care. While it is completely truthful, it is quite misleading.

Politicians, and the people who make their ads, rely on the fact that many people take much of what they see on television and the Internet at face value. They won't take the time to learn the stories behind the statements. Instead they just get angry about the information that is fed to them. Which brings me to my next point.

If you don't like the way something tastes, check the ingredients!! There is so much information available, in the form of public records, that there is no excuse for us to be in the dark about who or what we are voting for. Learn what the candidates stand for because they are not likely to tell you directly. Read information from both political views so you understand how they spin the facts to make them appear better or worse than they are.

Remember this; the people who make these advertisements are the same people who try to convince us that we can get rock-hard chiseled abs if we use their exercise machine or diet pills, while putting fine print at the bottom of the screen that explains how you have to modify your diet as well. They try to get us to buy their products, or vote for their candidate, because that is their job; and we all know what happens if we don't do our jobs well.

Bottom line - VOTE!! But vote smartly. Don't vote for the person with the best hair, the most charisma, or because someone tells you to. Do some research and make your own decision.

Homophones are knot equal

So many times eye am reading an e-mail or posting on a bulletin bored and I am confronted with a person who uses the wrong homophone. Sure, the words sound the same, but they don't mean the same thing. I am sure they meant two use the write word, but are just being lazy and relying on there spell-checker too tell them when they dew something wrong. Wee are used too the technology we have, two a point that part of the brain that learned how to reed and right just stops working.

Aye wonder how many of these people have reached a point where they are thinking of the wrong word as well? Is it possible that they ewes these words when they talk? I wood hate to think that this problem has gone that far. It's know wonder that people who dew knot use English as a first language get so confused. Words that sound the same, but have different meanings make it hard to learn hour language.

Won thing that I can say for these people...at least they are still using hole words. The up and coming generation thinks it is gr8 2 use shortcuts when they write and type...KWIM?

Where is my house going when I am not there

We needed to order a new bathing suit for our daughter. To get it before the big party we requested next-day FedEx delivery. Days went by and no suit arrived. I did get the replacement motherboard for our computer (via FedEx) without any problems. I checked their website and noticed that they attempted delivery twice, but were unsuccessful. I finally called FedEx to find out what was happening.

When I gave the tracking number to the customer service person, she burst out laughing. When she settled down to a simple giggle, I asked her what was so funny. She told me that there was a note on the account reporting that the house was not at the address. I assured her the house was here and I was currently in it. She gave me directions to the place where it was being held and I made plans to drive down there the next day.

When I got to the site, the person wanted to know what color door tag was left at my house. I told her that there was no door tag since the driver couldn't find my house. She insisted that I tell her what color the door tag was because that would help her find the package. Does anyone else see the vicious circle forming? Anyway, I gave her the tracking number and she found the package and showed me how the address was impossible to read, so the driver guessed at the address. Much to their surprise, last February's tornado did remove the house at 108 E. Teri Court from its expected location, hence the "house gone" problem.

Lesson learned from this, make sure you secure your house when you leave so it can't hide from the delivery people.

General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín is Spinning in his Grave

Now many of you are probably thinking, "Who is General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín ?" I guess it is time for little history lesson, courtesy of Wikipedia. While the US was fighting its civil war, France was trying a little settling of their own in Mexico. General Seguín led an army of about 2000 against an army of about 4000. The Mexican victory, in this battle on May 5 1862 in the city of Puebla, Mexico was significant for but a moment. The French soon returned and occupied Mexico City until 1867. This date, Cinco de Mayo, is a regional celebration and not the date of Mexico's Independence from Spain (September 16 in case you were wondering) as so many people think. To make it our own (and to cover the confusion of those of us who have difficulty with history), it heavily celebrated in the US as a date to recognize Mexican heritage.

I'm sure most of you are wondering, "Why would General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín spin in his grave?" Who cares what Americans have done to the original meaning of yet another holiday. Well, there is one bunch of Americans in particular, the staff of one of Montgomery's radio stations. I only listen to the station for the syndicated morning show, Rick and Bubba, but am still inundated by the stations commercials.

Their idea of celebrating this day is with the "Sink O de Mayo" contest at one of the local Tex-Mex restaurant chains. They fill a giant sink with mayonnaise and put prizes in the bottom. Contestants have to fish for their prizes. Sounds kinda gross to me, but then again I like mayonnaise on my french fries and some people think that is gross.

Feliz cinco de mayo!!

What a difference an 'S' makes

So I get a call from my doctor's office telling me they are referring me to an orthopedic surgeon to take a look at my knee. They give me the time and date of the appointment, tell me I need to pick up the MRI films from the VA hospital to take to the doctor, and the address of his office. The office is located at 488 St. Lukes Drive in Montgomery.

I head off to my favorite mapping site, Google Maps, and enter the address. Only problem is that I entered it as St. Luke Drive. The results it gave me is this map. At first I noticed that the location is on the route that I use when I go to Maxwell AFB from the Gunter Annex. I didn't remember seeing a hospital or doctor office on the drive so I zoomed in. Much to my dismay, it was pointing me to the middle of the cemetery where Hank Williams is buried. Not that I would have any problem visiting a cemetery, especially one with a famous resident, but I don't think that a tear to my mid medial meniscus is fatal.

Anyway, I added an 'S' on the end of Luke and tried again. This time it wants to send me to an area just across from Baptist Medical Center East. I think this is a better place to look for a doctor, don't you?

Hey y'all, watch this !!!

I'm sure many of you have heard the following joke...

Q: What was the last thing the redneck said before he died?
A: Hey y'all, watch this!!

Anyway, I actually found my self in the middle of one of those moments this evening. My neighbor (who doesn't actually live here, but lets his brother live in the house) has a collection of rusting things in his back yard. One of those thing is an old electric golf cart. The people working to repair the damage caused by the tornado decided it was time to clean most of this stuff out; before he came back to town and noticed his stuff was gone.

They backed the truck into the backyard, connected a chain to the golf cart and dragged it (none of the wheels were round anymore) out to the driveway. As we are standing there trying to figure out how to get the cart into the back of the truck, one of them thought that flipping it end over end would be a good idea. Who was I to argue...."Hey y'all, watch this!!" started running over and over in my head. That should have been my first clue. We pushed up the front end of the cart until the four of us had it up high enough to get into the back of the truck. Unfortunately, it was pointed the wrong way. One of the guys said that if the truck were pulled up, we could try to get the front end in first. "HEY Y'ALL, WATCH THIS!!!" It was getting louder, but I still ignored the voice.

The guy who drove the truck let go and headed for the cab. Now I did a little math. If it takes four men to life the front end of this cart, and one lets go...I'll let you finish the equation. The cart started to gain momentum until all of us finally let go and let it drop the last couple of feet. It missed everyone's toes and we all just looked at each other with that, OOPS look.

At least I survived my first, and hopefully last, "Hey y'all, watch this" experience.