Memorial Day 2021

There are few things in life that bug me more than what happens every year on Memorial Day weekend. Memorial Day is not the unofficial first day of summer. It is not National BBQ Day. It is not an excuse to have a furniture sale, auto sale, or department store sale. It is The Day set aside to remember those that have given their lives in military service for our country. Don't get me wrong, I don't think we need to spend the entire day in quiet mourning and reflection, but people PLEASE!! at least think about what the day really means at some point. It is not to honor past and current service members, ONLY those that have made the ultimate sacrifice! The constant attempt to tie in the "Thank You For Your Service" crap for the day is nauseating. If I am walking around alive then this day is to remember someone else. More recently, the media tries to get it right, but they still fuck it up. 

For the week leading up to Memorial Day I fly the POW/MIA flag below the US flag on my lighted flagpole. On Memorial Day, I remove it so that I can lower the US flag to half-staff from sunrise until noon, when the US flag is raised to full staff and the POW/MIA flag goes back up until the next day and stays up until early June. This method of flying the US flag is spelled out in US Code 4 Section 7 Paragraph (m). The following poem was written at the height of WWI, and should be familiar to any choir members I may be preaching to.

In Flanders Field by John McCrae 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

 

Why is Memorial Day so important to me? PFC Stephen D. Tingley, USMC was a childhood friend that could always crack me up. In elementary school we had tons of fun and got into a lot of trouble together. When I first met him in the 4th grade and until sometime in middle school, he wore braces on his legs because of something wrong with his hips, that he was supposed to outgrow. Sometime in middle school I think it was, the braces came off and he became quite the athlete. In middle school and early high school we played baseball together. In high school he played varsity baseball and soccer. Since we ended up at different high schools, in later years we drifted apart. Apparently Stephen joined the Marines right out of school, where I joined the Army Reserves more than a year after graduation. I was married two months when we got the news about the cowardly savage killing of sleeping Marines in Beirut by jihadi scum. Just about everyone in town that knew Stephen were at his funeral. There was a horse drawn wagon carrying his flag-draped coffin to the cemetery for military honors. He was not buried there. I saw classmates I had not seen since middle school, but no one had a happy reunion, it was the saddest thing you ever saw, and the silence was deafening. It will be 38 years since his passing this year, and I still have the gaping hole in my heart. I asked his father many years later where Stephen was buried. He would only say he was cremated, leading me to believe the family has his ashes. I also know his sister, but can't bring myself to ask her either. There is also some confusion as to his rank. He was definitely a PFC when he died, but I have also seen references to him as Lance Corporal. He may have been posthumously promoted.

KIA October 23, 1983 Beirut, Lebanon

 

 

The Marines were in Lebanon as part of a multi-national peace keeping force, not an offensive combat role. As we know, jihadi scum only relish in death and war, so they had to take out the infidel peace keepers. This is one of the many reasons I hope to kill at least one jihadi (but hopefully more) before I die.

The Ellington, CT Memorial to the war dead

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On my biker vest, which is mostly military themed for The Patriot Guard, I have an "In Memory Of" patch for Stephen on the back.

David Chipman is a Real Piece of Shit

Instead of a confirmation hearing, he should be on trial for 82 counts of first degree murder for the fatal seige on the Branch Davidians. Upon being found guilty, have an immediate death sentence carried out by being burned alive in his house, just like the ATF and the Fibbies dished out in Waco.

Happy Birthday Dad

 

 

 

 

 

Today would have been Dad's 87th birthday. Only my one aunt that was married to my Dad's younger brother remains from that generation of my grandparent's children. Cousins and spouses that were the offspring of both sets of grandparent's siblings remain.

Dad served on active duty in the US Navy from 1952 until 1956, then in the Naval Reserves until his Honorable Discharge in 1960. In his day GMM3 stood for "Gunners Mate Mounts 3rd Class" where today it is Gunners Mate Missile. Always on aircraft carriers, he operated the 5 inch guns located in exposed tubs on the starboard side aft under the flight deck. He served on three ships; the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt CVA-42 (Midway Class), the USS Bennington CV-20 (Essex Class), and the USS Lake Champlain CV-39 (Essex Class).

Dad posing at his gun mount aboard the USS Bennington at Port of Call in Cannes, France on 11-23-53

He was aboard the USS Bennington when the hydraulic catapults exploded, setting off secondary explosions from the ammunition magazines located underneath. This occurred while cruising off Narragansett Bay on his 20th birthday, May 26, 1954 and put the Bennington out of commission. 103 crewmen were killed, 201 were injured, and the Bennington made it back to Quonset Point, RI under her own power. Because he still had active duty time to serve, he was re-assigned to the Florida based Lake Champlain.

Dad remembered that day until he died even with his dementia (just not all the details). He was on KP that morning, running the potato peeling machine in an aft galley. He felt the explosions and then the fire alarms sounded. When he tried to get to his damage control station which was forward, he was turned back by what he only described as "guards" but I assume that was Marines. He said it was much later on that he was able to go up onto the flight deck, and he said where the explosions happened it was peeled back like it was made of tinfoil. Below is a newsreel video about the disaster.

During his time in the Navy, he was quite the photographer. I have his old cameras; an Argus 35mm and a Zeiss Movikon 8 wind up 8mm movie camera. In the early 1950's he was shooting COLOR standard 8mm movies. I have some great footage from his Navy days of Spain, Greece, and Italy. He filmed his ship under way, a refueling from an oiler, as well as flight operations. He also shot a snowball fight that occurred somewhere under way in the North Atlantic. I also have a great collection of still photos. I used that Argus camera myself until I got my first Minolta 35mm back in the late `80's or early `90's. As an aside, I also found and possess my Mom's old cameras from her younger days, a Kodak Brownie and a Pony 135.

He married my Mom in 1959, they had us kids in the early `60's. He worked his entire career in the printing business, until retirement, which he learned in a trade high school before the Navy. After finding retirement boring, he went back to work as a school bus driver which he loved. He quit doing that at age 70, because the state requires anyone over 70 to get an annual DOT medical exam, but the bus company would only pay for one every two years. He and my Mom took care of my maternal grandparent's until their deaths in 2005 and 2009. My parents hit their 50th wedding anniversary and lived in the same house together since 1963. Mom passed in 2010 and Dad lived as a widowed old guy, doing all the normal old guy stuff until 2016 when he fell and broke a hip. After time in a rehab facility he went back home, and it became apparent that he wasn't quite right. He was diagnosed with dementia and when it got to the point he could not be left alone, he ended up with a live in health aide until his death in 2018. He was buried with full military honors in the same grave already occupied by my mother. Since the caskets are stacked in the vault, the big family joke is Dad will be on top of Mom for all eternity.

So Happy Birthday, Dad... I will raise a glass in your honor later today, and try to head over to the cemetery this Memorial Day Weekend.

Making Bobby Flay's Spicy Pickles

From his recipe on the Food Network website. 

My sister-in-law had made a batch of spicy hot pickle chips a few months ago and gave us a jar. I really enjoyed them and wanted more. I came across Bobby Flay's recipe online and finished gathering the fresh ingredients today. It was an excuse to take "The Beast" out for a spin to the grocery store.

The vinegar based pickling brew cooling to room temperature before adding dill and cilantro

Chopping up the dill. Recipe calls for 3 tablespoons. The cilantro waits in the background

Sliced mini cucumber chips in a brand new 1 quart Mason Jar. I sliced them thinner than called for

The finished product ready for four days in the fridge. Ready to eat on Saturday

Since it was a nice warm afternoon I had the house windows open. While I was finishing up I heard gunfire from up in the woods, most likely coming from my good neighbor's range. Funny thing is it is over the hill behind Bitchy McBitchy Bitchface's house, but definitely close enough to hear well and she can't do a fuckin' thing about it. She was home too, and I'll bet seething with anger. I sent a text to see if it was him. The exchange went like this:

Me: "I hear the sounds of FREEDOM!"

Me: "I hope it is pissing off and freaking out my gun hatin' neighbor

Him: "Ha. How do Pal?"

Me: "Good. Thinking about going to the range later this week. Just gonna shoot .22 pistols. Got a few thousand rounds, so plenty."

Him: "Nice. Availability is getting better. Prices still high. Enjoy"

I'm not exactly sure what day I'll go. Supposed to be possibly severe stormy weather tomorrow afternoon and I have a couple of things I want to do beforehand. It's also going to be a scorcher and I don't find shooting pleasant with sweat dripping in my eyes. Thursday or Friday looks more promising and while at the club I need to sign up for working at the annual clambake in July.

Another Post In My "Old School" Series

 I'll start with the photo.

Western Electric Model 500W Black

This is all we originally had in my childhood home for most of the first decade we lived there. It had the standard 3 foot cord and was mounted on the wall in our kitchen. These older phones were hard wired, not the newer modular versions where the phone and the cords were easily unplugged and replaced. They were owned by the phone company and charged for as part of the monthly phone bill. If it needed repair, you had to call the phone company. DIY repairs or mods were VERBOTTEN and parts were next to impossible to get. But I remember my Dad putting a longer cord on the phone. My grandfather was a plant electrician at Monsanto in Springfield, MA and got a longer black cord from one of the Monsanto in-house New England Telephone technicians. He was told to replace the cord wires exactly as they were and how to open the phone unit. My Dad did the replacement successfully, and us kids were instructed to keep quiet about it. He didn't want us to say something to a school chum and end up having the parent working for the phone company. The phone company might check the records and find we weren't paying for a long cord... THE HORROR! No wonder AT&T had to get broken up back in 1984, the freakin' fear they instilled in people!

Anyway, we had an extension phone added in my parent's bedroom after an incident in the middle of the night. My parents were both members of the town volunteer ambulance corps. Mom was on duty during the day when we were in school, and Dad at night once a week or so. Dispatch was done by telephone. One late night, the phone rang, and Dad did a face plant into the living room while running down the hall to get the single phone in the kitchen. On a rotating basis, the ambulance was parked in our driveway, and I remember riding in it after my Mom picked it up for my Dad in the afternoon after she picked us up from school. The photo below is of a privately owned same era ambulance at a car show.

1964 Cadillac Ambulance

 

Anyway, back to the phone. Dialing a rotary phone actually takes some skill and manual dexterity in order to dial accurately. The dial is a spring wound mechanism that operates a make/break set of contacts timed to operate at 10 pulses per second. So a dialed "4" is four open/close cycles of the contacts, an "8" is eight open/close cycles, etc. A "0" was the full 10 cycles. As an aside, a rotary phone would work on a touch-tone enabled line, but a touch-tone phone wouldn't work on a rotary only line. This was back when all anyone had was a landline, and a rotary only line was cheaper and most likely what grandma and grandpa had. I was a landline holdout, but finally got rid of it 3 or 4 years ago. I had the ringers turned off and no answering machine or voicemail, and only used it for calling 911 or for pizza.

I know this will sound dumb to have to explain, but bear with me. To dial a number; you place your dominant index finger in the hole next to the desired digit, spin the dial clockwise all the way to the metal finger stop, and pull your finger straight out and all the way out of the hole allowing the dial to rotate counter-clockwise unimpeded. Repeat the process until the entire phone number is dialed. Not going all the way to the finger stop or allowing your "finger to linger" in the hole on the dial will result in misdialed or wrong numbers. Prior to the country running out of phone numbers in the early 1990's, you did not have to dial the area code for numbers that were local or in the same area code. Farther back than that, 5 digit dialing was allowed within the same exchange office. I remember calling my neighbor up the road about him taking me fishing and just dialing 5-2812, dropping the leading "87". All that convenience went away when Kommiecticut went to statewide 911 and the central offices all got upgraded to digital. Prior to the 911 system, every police/fire/ambulance service had an individual local number listed in the blue pages of the yearly phone book. Most people had the numbers for their emergency services on a hand written note on the refrigerator or near the phone. Some local fire departments would do a printed refrigerator magnet with the numbers on it for their area as a freebie or fundraiser.

I am going to pay closer attention to what people say. Old farts like me will still say "dial the number" when referring to making a phone call, and I believe the younger crowd just says "make a call."

Another Old School Low-Tech Device

What happens when your cell battery dies? How about if the government decides it is too dangerous for the public to have access to the same GPS that they use, and they shut it off? How will you know how to get around?

 In my time as a Zombie, I excelled at orienteering using one of these...

My Cammenga lensatic compass

This is my compass, there are many like it, but this one is mine...

 

...and one of these.

A topographical map of one of my favorite areas to hike, The Cat Rocks in Bigelow Hollow State Park

 

Click on the map photo to enlarge and check out those contour lines just to the left of Breakneck Pond. During the ancient seismic upheavals, many places in Kommiecticut  that had horizontal layers of strata were moved and turned vertically. It is a "knifes edge" cliff with lots of "caves" that are actually voids between layers of rock that broke off and fell, stacking up like a child's blocks. Some are the size of a small house and the voids are large and easy to get in and out of. Just be sure to have a flashlight to look inside first in case the void is occupied by a bruin or large cat. A map and compass aren't needed to get there because the trails are well marked and mapped by the state.

My unit did orienteering annually as a refresher and my team always came in first place and got the prize (usually a case of beer). The team relied on my abilities to navigate, find landmarks, and properly estimate and pace off distances. Before we headed to the next waypoint, I made sure everyone understood and agreed to go the next direction and distance required before proceeding.

While this is more advanced terrain navigating, how many people know how to read (or even possess) a paper roadmap? I keep a AAA version for CT, MA, & RI and a separate one for NY in my bike's trunk. When we are in the parking lot after breakfast trying to figure out a loop ride to take, it is so much easier to visualize a route on a spread out paper map and not on a little cell phone screen.

Blessing of The Bikes New London, Kommiecticut

Yesterday was the Blessing of The Bikes event held at the waterfront in New London, Kommiecticut sponsored by the New London M/C. It was a scorcher but relief came in the form of a stiff sea breeze off the cool waters of Long Island Sound. Because the Patriot Guard had a booth with a tent, we spent a good amount of time there, and I did my normal "aggressive" recruiting tactics. More on that later. It ran from 11-3 and we got down there a little before 11. Parking the bikes was a bit of a cluster but patience won out and everyone got parked so no one got locked in and could easily leave at any time.

Looking down the main drag of the piers where we were parked. There were lots more parked all over

None of my riding associates belong to any clubs, but there were lots of clubs represented there and everybody was polite to each other. Including the supposedly baddest of the bad The Hell's Angels. I have been at several events where they attend, and they ALWAYS behave themselves. But then, who in their right mind is going to go fuck with them? I am sure there was a proliferation of carried weapons, yours truly included, but amazingly as usual at these events there were no incidents of any kind. Armed polite society as the saying goes, unlike the shootings and other assorted violent crimes that occurred in the urban jungles around the state this past weekend. To prove the violence is more cultural or geographical and not a racial issue, there were plenty of black and brown people at this event, including clubs that were predominantly minority members. When everyone shares a passion like motorcycles, there is no reason for animosity and blatant racism is not present.

There were plenty of bike related vendors and food trucks. The New London MC was expecting 2000 bikes and I'll bet the number was higher. Getting food was pretty easy as the lines moved fast. We ate at Bear's BBQ which always has great food. A little expensive, but a huge portion. I got their brisket burnt ends served up in what they called a "Mac Attack." A layer of cornbread, a layer of their delicious Mac-n-Cheese, and then the meat. I slathered it in their sweet Kansas City sauce and washed it down with a bottle of water.

The view from where we sat and ate. It's the line for Supreme Hotdog. The Army patch is on my bud's back.

After lunch, we walked around and scoped out the vendors. The only thing we bought were event t-shirts being sold by the New London M/C. We brought them back to our bikes and moved the bikes up closer where lots of parking had been vacated. It got us 1/4 mile closer. We then ducked under the PGR tent for shade. About my recruiting tactics... most of the time when a PGR table is set up, those manning the table just sit and wait to be approached. Not me. I grab a handful of brochures and head out to the main walkway and hand them out. I explain to people how easy membership is and what the minimum requirements are... respect for the flag, the fallen, and their families, THAT'S IT! People are surprised that there is no meetings, dues, initiation, veteran or motorcycle requirement. Sign up with your email address, receive the mission alerts, and show up if you can. No one will ever bust your balls if you can't show up all the time or end up having to drop out. Every mission has a briefing so everyone knows where to go and what to do. Experienced members will help you with the military honor and parade commands if you didn't serve and don't know them. I hope my efforts pay off.

Looking towards the vendor area and the band stage. The large brick building is the New London train station.

I am sure any Branch Covidians will think this was one of those dreaded "super-spreader" events, because OMG... there were a couple thousand unmasked people breathing free and not caring whether you got the jab or not. There was also no social distancing, as people greeted each other with handshakes and hugs. But then, this Chink Bug was a "PLANDEMIC" not a pandemic, and the tyrants with their lockdowns had to give up the emergency power before it was "taken" from them by force.

The Birds

No, not the Alfred Hitchcock horror movie, the only hummingbirds here in the northeast, the Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. And we have lots of them this year. 

My former neighbor fed them like crazy, and had multiple feeders around his house with lots of customers. When they moved away the replacements can't be bothered with feeding (readers of my former blog will recall fellow blogger Mr. Garabaldi named the wife "Bitchy McBitchy Bitchface" and for good reason). Bonus for me, because the little devils have all moved down to my house. 

Ruby Throated Hummingbird pair. Male on the left, female on the right. No gender mental illness here.

 

They are bold and fearless for such tiny creatures. We sit on our front porch where the feeders are, and they fly all around us as though we aren't there. The first time we experienced this was in 2002 on a trip out west and we stopped in Kanab, Utah at the Best Friends Animal Society sanctuary. The main building was a ranch style that had a front porch down the entire length. Every 6 feet or so was a hummingbird feeder and there were swarms of them buzzing and dive bombing the patrons. It takes a little getting used to, but it is really cool. The other day, I was just standing outside my basement door nowhere near the feeders, and a curious male flew right up and hovered less than 3 feet from my face for several seconds checking me out before he flew away. Several times a season they end up trapped in my garage because they think they can take the shortcut to the feeders by coming in the roll up door and going out the window, which unfortunately is closed. Then they can't figure out to go out the big giant open door. Its worse if the fluorescent lights are on because it messes up their vision. I'll shut the lights off and wait a while, and sometimes they'll get out on their own. Other times they need assistance. I learned very early on there is only one way to capture and release them, and that is by hand. Of course, they tend to go up high and hover in between the joist, so I have to get up on a ladder to perform the rescue. They will totally avoid any kind of net, but if you slowly approach them from behind with your bare hand while they are in flight, you can encircle them with your fingers, gently hold onto them and let them go outside. They weigh almost nothing.

As the weather has warmed they are very active from just after sunrise until dark. The feeders we have hold a good amount of sugar water and are made so that the proportion of  sugar to water is foolproof to mix. Fill the compartment with sugar, and the reservoir to the line with boiling water and swish it around. The feeders are clear poly-carbonate so they are easily cleaned and dishwasher safe, but they normally just need a rinsing. I have them suspended on monofilament fishing line to keep the ants out. Ants can't navigate fishing line, and the holes for the hummingbird beaks are too small for bees to get in. From now until the end of summer when they migrate south, I will be refilling the feeders every couple of days.

This morning they were going bonkers. I grabbed my Nikon D5600 with my 70-300mm telephoto and started shooting. Below are what I feel are my best shots.

A female perched in my budding Rose O'Sharon

A solitary female at the red feeder

A pair of females at the blue feeder

Most of the feeding birds seem to be females, and they aggressively enforce who gets to feed and when. The photo above is unusual for me to have two girls at once sharing a feeder, but I believe until the flowers really start blooming and there is more food available elsewhere, it will be tolerated. My wife put some flowers out back in pots and the window box on our deck, the Bleeding Heart still has blooms on it, and the Azalea just finished. That is where I had seen the males mostly feeding although they will come to the feeders as well.

More Old School

Along the lines of my kind of a gag post Message 2021.0377 picking on the young `uns that can't do or understand the things from our youth.

My analog Watches. A newer Smith and Wesson S.W.A.T. and a 10+ year old Timex Expedition, both sporting a Velcro wrap style band that are inexpensive ($8 at Wally World) and last a long time.

 

The S & W is water resistant only, while the Expedition is water proof to 100m. It was a freebie from my niece that works at S & W. I'll wear the Timex kayaking and such, the S & W for daily wear. So when some young person that sees my watch were to ask me what time it is, I will have one of two responses.

1). "One of. One of the reasons you need to get a watch." (That was my daughter's favorite)

2). Show them my watch face and say, "You tell me."

Sorry, but I would much rather wear a stand alone analog watch than either have to pull out my cell phone, or wear one attached to my cell phone recording my bio-metrics for either government snoops or the CCP. It also reliably tells me the time as soon as I look at it without having to wake it up, even in the dark.

Buh Bye Glug-Glug Jug

Since I completed today's yard work earlier, I thought I would do a post on gas cans. ALL of my yard and snow removal power equipment is gas powered, either 2 stroke or 4. I had my fill of battery or electric powered yard equipment. First off, my Dad was horrible with gas powered equipment his entire life. Old stale untreated gas, dull blades, never changed oil, never understood starting with a choke or primer, etc. During the gas shortages of the 1970's, he bought a Toro electric plug-in lawmower with a 100'+ extension cord. What a pain in the ass to mow our yard! You would get to the end of a cut, turn the mower and get lined up for the next cut, and flip the long lever that held the cord and flipped it out of your way. We still ended up chopping up the cord, getting it wound around the blade shaft and having to splice it back together. They sucked so bad, I can't even find a description or photo of it online. Of course, it wasn't self-propelled and the bag would fill up fast requiring it to be dumped every couple of passes. I have about 1/2 +/- acre of property around my house to mow. Using my Honda self-propelled walk behind mower as a mulcher doing a normal length maintenance cutting, I can do the entire 5 sections of yard in the same amount of time it took us as kids to do just the front and back yards with that piece of shit.

Anyway, back to the gas cans. I have a pair of 2 gallon Blitz non-vented gurgle cans that would ALWAYS spill more gas than you could imagine. I use them for the lawnmower, snowblower, power washer, or sometimes to top off the generator or bike. Anything that needs straight 87 octane gas. The label is still intact on one of them showing the STUPID (but supposedly environmentally friendly) spout arrangement. Tell me again how spilling gas on the ground is better than allowing a vent to the atmosphere, which actually sucks air in to displace the gas? Oh, that and the "safety" factor because idiots were either killed or badly burned pouring gas out freely trying to light a campfire. I have used gas a few times to light fires, but I toss small quantities of gas from a cup at a distance, and you NEVER let your fire wood sit soaked in gas. It will blow up in your face when you walk up to light it.

From a seller on eBay, I purchased a gas can retrofit/repair kit. These are VERBOTTEN here in Kommiecticut, and are unavailable from retailers like Cheaper Than Dirt. They make you input your zip code to see if they will ship to you, or others will rebrand them as "water spout kits." For $25 and free shipping, I got five of these kits in a package. I have two complete kits left.

Spout, cap, two different size retention collars, a screw type vent cap, and a vent retrofit cap

I turned a difficult to use messy gas jug into an easy pour version that has yet to spill a drop.

Pop open the yellow vent cap and spout cap, and pour away easily

 

The yellow vent cap installation requires drilling. I put it on the flattest spot on top, and used a slightly under-sized drill bit for a tight fit. Make sure the jug is empty and dry before drilling, so you can easily remove any plastic pieces that fall inside. Use the black or yellow retention collar that fits your jug.

Next up, a pair of older Scepter gas jugs; a 2 1/2 gallon and a 5 gallon that are for usage on my generator. As long as I can purchase gas somewhere during an outage, I just refuel the generator and then refill these jugs without tapping into my emergency supply.

The 2 1/2 gallon jug already had a good flexible spout. The vent cap was split needing replacement

 

The 5 gallon Scepter jug had a stiff plastic spout. I bent it to fit the gas tank fill of my truck too many times and it split down the sides. The new flexible spout fits and works perfect. Its original vent cap was also split requiring replacement.

All my emergency gas containers are tagged with the date and station name. Yes I am that anal.

All my gas is stored down in my barn, 100' away from the house. The chance of fire is minimal, since there is no permanent electricity down there. I run a heavy duty outside extension cord to the barn when I want power. The barn is wired for outlets and lights, and there is a male 3-prong cable on the rear exterior to plug the extension cord into. It becomes our clubhouse when we have bonfire parties.

My now illegal gas jugs, on top of my equally forbidden Jerry Cans. The 5 gallon jug on the left is already the old style I got from my Dad. Cleaned out first, of course.

I do have one old metal "Stan Can" brand gas can that has all its original parts that I mix my 2-stroke gas in, but it is in great shape. I use a universal mixture called Optima 2 in all my stuff and have for years. One pouch of Optima 2 to one gallon of gas (I use 93 octane only) and it works regardless of mix ratio. Its a little more expensive than standard 2-stroke oil, but not as expensive as pre-mix tool fuel.

I Am The Last Holdout

Nice, warm, and sunny yesterday afternoon. Although quite tempting to hop back on "The Beast" and head down to the shoreline for the afternoon, the yard needed trimming and mowing. So I got 3 of the 5 sections done. I will hit the last sections later today when the grass dries. When I came in after finishing, the dogs were nowhere to be found. I located them upstairs... in bed with my wife! Last I knew, she was at work and Wednesday is one of her late days. She doesn't normally come home until sometime between 9:30 and 10:00 but here it was like 7:00. She was obviously ill so the conversation was brief and I let her be.

When she came downstairs later she told me the news, she went and got the J & J jab and was having a reaction. Bottom line, she succumbed to the pressures being applied by the tyrants; government, private business, and the Karan Brigade I guess. She said she wants to see her father in Florida (meaning fly with no hassle), and a bunch of other "reasons." None of her "reasons" are compelling enough in my opinion and have viable alternatives. I am more surprised than disappointed, because she shuns flu shots, and the pneumonia shot she should also get, as well as needles in general. I will not discuss her decision with her. It is done and nothing will or can change that.

The jab is a one-way trip. Get it and there is no going back. I feel like I am going to eventually be like one of the characters in the movie "Resident Evil" living with a ragtag band of survivors killing off those that survived the mass die off in some post-apocalyptic dystopian world.

Message 2021.0377

Doctor Visit This Morning

For nothing more than a follow up to my March annual fire department physical and blood pressure med check. It was a beautiful late spring morning, so I rode in on "The Beast." Usual stuff... eat better, get more exercise, lose weight, etc. Then the discussion turned to getting the jab. I told him there was no way I would even remotely consider it until it was a licensed vaccine, not experimental goo being doled out on an EUA. He told me he hesitated at first, but felt it was safe to get and asked me what he could do to provide information to convince me to get it. He felt given the fact that I work in EMS it would be less of a risk to get the jab instead of Chink Bug. I told him I was pretty sure I already had it and have been "up close and personal" with many patients that were Chink Bug positive, so my natural immunity will do fine for me. The doc said he understood and hoped I would change my mind. On my next blood pressure check in 6 months, I am going to get the 1st shot of the Shingles vaccine. I had chicken pox as a kid so I am susceptible, and it is a lifetime and licensed vaccine.

Some Of Us Are Not Surprised

The New York Yankees baseball team (hated by me and Red Sox Nation) was 85% fully jabbed, and it turns out 8 of them are now Chink Bug positive. I am not surprised, because it is well documented that the jab does not prevent infection or spread.

Link to story on CBS News 

This should be a loud wake-up call to the obedient sheep to pay attention to the lies and conflicting information being supplied by gubmint and peddled by the propaganda wing of the D/S/C. Other than stories like this, people will be unaware because once they've been jabbed they stop getting tested.

Nelson Says It All

Hi-Rise office building in Gaza that once housed all manner of "Fake News"

So Lost 1st Class Mail Is Lost Forever, Too Bad For You

The USPS has failed miserably over and over and over again, needs to be torn down completely and rebuilt as a private enterprise. The postal unions should be disbanded, and every postal employee should have to reapply for their job. The Informed Delivery service is a fucking joke and total waste of time.

I have not only not gotten my first class mail delivered on the past two Saturdays. The mail that was supposed to arrive never showed up at all even days later. It is just gone. I know for a fact it hasn't been stolen out of my mailbox. I surmise someone is channeling Newman from the Seinfeld Show and either stashing undelivered mail in a storage area, or filling a dumpster somewhere. Official notifications to the USPS about missing mail I put in through Informed Delivery have gone unanswered until today, when I filed a separate customer service complaint. Below is the canned message I received back 4 minutes after I submitted my complaint.

Dear XXXXXX XXXXXXXX,

Thank you for participating in Informed Delivery^®.  You recently sent us a question about not receiving an expected mailpiece that was shown in your email and/or dashboard.

Informed Delivery provides notifications for mailpieces arriving soon—not necessarily arriving that day. There may be occasions when a mailpiece was scanned by automated equipment, but the mailpiece itself was not relayed to your mail carrier before he or she left for their delivery route that day. Depending on the class of mail, the delivery standard can be different. In addition, certain mail such as Certified Mail^® delivery or mail requiring a signature may not be received if a corresponding action such as providing a signature was not completed.

You can click the link/checkbox under a specific item in your Informed Delivery email and/or dashboard to indicate that you did not receive a mailpiece. This missing mail information is routed to the U.S. Postal Inspection Service (USPIS) and/or the Office of Inspector General (OIG) for investigative purposes only, and does not result in any search activity or customer response. The link/checkbox will disappear after 7 days, as mail images are only retained in the dashboard for 7 days.

For items of value, if after 7 business days your mailpiece has not arrived, you should follow the established processes for finding missing mail by submitting a Missing Mail Search Request. The Postal Service will attempt to find and return your lost item(s), however, submitting a search does not guarantee a successful outcome. You may also wish to consider contacting the sender to request re-delivery of the mailpiece.

Thank you for choosing the United States Postal Service^®.

 

So bottom line is... since it isn't an "item of value" too bad and fuck you, apparently! Because after 7 days the notifications fade into oblivion and there is no mechanism for escalation. You need an example of how #LIBTARDS ruin things... here you go!

Could There Be A Hidden Benefit?

According to the current conventional wisdom, it is mostly Conservatives, critical thinkers, or those that have done any kind of research on the mRNA jab that are not racing out to get in line for it.

So I ponder the following; if in the future as I and many others suspect, there is a mass die off of those that got the jab, will the world be better off with far fewer libtards, fools, and sheeple? Why yes, of course it will. The extra gooder part is all the politicians that raced out to get jabbed, some quite publicly (although the conspiracy theorist in me says that they were "informed" and got nothing but saline for show). Even so, if their supporters and more importantly their voters succumb, the loony lefties in gubmint won't stay in office very long, will they?

Fuck Your Honor System!!

So CDC Director Dr. Rochelle "Weepy" Walensky says we can ditch the freedom muzzle/mask of oppression if we are fully jabbed. It will be on the "honor system" whether or not you are among the big pharma guinea pigs or a critical thinking free citizen and can breathe freely. 

 

NEWSFLASH: Fuck off, I will continue to do as I please and it is NONE OF ANYONE'S FUCKING BUSINESS!!

Fibbie Abuse of The No-Fly List

I just watched a report by Michelle Malkin on Newsmax that people of a certain "political persuasion" (HINT: not BLM, PANTIFA, anti-gun hoplophobes, enviro-nazis, religious persecutors, pro-abortion, Marxists, etc.), are secretly being placed on the terrorist "no fly list." The no fly list is actually just an extension of the "terrorist watch list." The Homeland Security goons and The Fibbies are in charge of placing citizens on this list, in secret of course, with no notification, reasons, or remedy to get off of it. The only way to find out if you're on it is to buy a plane ticket, get denied boarding, write a letter to The Fibbies requesting to know if you're on the list, wait for their written confirmation that you're on it, then request back to them in writing you be removed, and wait to try getting on a plane again? They will never disclose why you are/were on it, or what witnesses they interviewed. There are classifications of people on the list, of which I am a member of a couple of them, that get denied other things beside flying if they're on it. So I know I am officially not on it.... YET! My C&R FFL, commercial drivers license, pistol permit, and state EMT credentials are all still intact. I purchased and received a brand new firearm back in February with no issues.

I am, however on the no-fly list by choice because I refuse to get the jab of experimental glop. I will never possess, comply to produce, or discuss a "Vaccine Passport" to anyone that is not my doctor or heath care designee. I decided months ago that I will simply never fly commercial again, have no reason to leave the continental U.S. and will just drive wherever I need to go. That will only change upon a successful challenge in the courts that forever kills any notion of having my special tattoo (QR code), yellow Star of David, or scarlet letter. Since my wife and I both believe we had the Chink Bug over a year ago (before it was supposedly here so there was no test for it) we believe we possess the best kind of immunity there is... having and getting over the virus naturally. I believe tens of millions of people had it and got over it thinking it was just a cold that also have the natural immunity, not any special immunity because they went and got the "not a vaccine" jab.

New Gun Control Movie?

UPDATE 5-15-21: This is the post that disappeared yesterday afternoon that prompted my subsequent WTF?? post. It is mysteriously back in my post list.

On January 31, 2018, 15 year old Ethan Song of Guilford, Kommiecticut accidentally negligently blew his brains out with a .357 Magnum handgun belonging to his friend's father.

Because of this incident, useless and idiotic laws were passed in Kommiecticut regarding storage and accessibility of firearms. Critically thinking people know that laws like these can never prevent such a future tragedy from occurring, because they will just simply become something a real moron (like say the drug dealer or gang-banger that keeps the loaded gun under the couch cushion for his baby mama's kids to find) gets charged with AFTER the tragic shooting of another kid. The real hope and intent is to frighten legitimate gun owners from keeping a firearm handy for self-defense, or providing one to their responsible children. There are thousands of stories out there of minor children defending themselves or their family with a firearm from all over the country. Laws don't deter me one little bit, but then I am a proponent of every kind of non-compliance. This is the type of intolerable/unconstitutional act the gun-grabbing hoplophobes that populate this state want to take nationwide. Watch for it to come out of the Commie lead U.S congress to be signed by Gropey Joe, or your own state legislative body.

Link to article in the New Haven Register that is about the investigation from November 20, 2018

 

 

Ethan Song is dead. Do you know why? Lots of stupidity. First and foremost:

1). His parents never taught him to mind your own fucking business and leave other peoples private property alone. He went into a closet in a master bedroom in someone else's home and opened a closed container not belonging to him or his equally stupid friend. They supposedly did this many times... until the last time.

2). They also obviously never taught him one item of gun safety. EVERY CHILD SHOULD LEARN  BASIC GUN SAFETY!! Depending on the age and maturity it should at least be Eddie Eagle's "STOP-RUN AWAY-TELL AN ADULT"

3). Ethan did not possess the critical thinking skills that might lead a normal person to conclude that loading a firearm and fucking around with it WILL have bad/deadly consequences.

We can debate the wisdom of the storage methods of the gun owner, Daniel Markle all day long. Bottom line, his guns were locked, the keys were "hidden" (although not very well) and HE WAS LEGAL! Since he was legal, he was not charged in Ethan's death. I personally keep certain defensive ammo with my secured (in a safe) firearms in a locked and hardened (as well as alarmed and monitored) closet. After at least 2 hours work to force their way into the alarmed closet, an unauthorized person would now be staring at a pair of safes and if they entered my house when I wasn't there, hearing the alarm siren blaring as state police are automatically notified. That is provided they somehow didn't set off the alarm just entering the house. The only loaded and ready gun(s) is on my person or next to my head on the nightstand while I sleep. I actually sleep in Col. Cooper's "Condition Yellow."

So apparently in effort to get the anti-gun ass clowns temporarily controlling our federal government to move forward on this and all other infringements they can dream up, some douchebag made a movie about this story. I heard about it on the late news last night, but could not find any mentions of it online. Not that I would ever link to such a piece of shit anyway, you can try to find it on your own.

WTF???

I just finished writing and then posting content about a gun control movie, and after publishing and me viewing it one time live on the blog... IT DISAPPEARED! Completely. Not even in the list of my blog posts as a draft. Deleting is a two step process so it wasn't accidentally deleted. Anyone else ever have this happen?

I guess from now on anything even remotely "controversial" will be backed up locally on my PC until I am sure it stays up. I am not going to recreate that post... too much work.

Fucking Google!

USPS Update #3 5-11-21

Day 3 with no mail. Todays "Informed Delivery" showed no expected mail or packages, just a notice about having to use a new app and remove the old one. 

Weather is clear, dry, and sunny. But then they don't operate under the old motto any more anyway. The USPS is staffed by snowflakes, I guess.

"Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

USPS Update #2 5-10-21

No mail delivery again today. The mail truck zoomed right by my house while I happened to be looking at 2 minutes of 6. I have already dinged them for non-receipt of promised mail on the Informed Delivery service. My package still shows as though it never left the post office today and is there for pickup, which I am told on good authority that is cooking the books for on time and proper delivery.

It was like this except I didn't get my mail like ol' Chevy Chase did.

Good thing that package I ordered from Illinois is just an audio cable, and not life-saving drugs or something.

UPDATE #2A: At 7:15 I heard another mail truck. I looked out and saw it at my mailbox. They delivered my package but none of my other mail. The carrier left my neighbor's package, that was too big for their mailbox, sitting on top of their mailbox on the side of the road. If she wasn't such an asswipe, I would have taken their package up to their house. It is ready for a porch pirate to steal and I don't give a fuck!

UPDATE on The USPS Problems - A Visit In Person

So I took the short ride over to my post office because the last message on Informed Delivery said my package was there for pickup. At 10:15 AM, all four mail trucks were still there, and the first one was still loading! Not a good sign. I went in and spoke to the person holding down the fort and found out the 411.

My regular carrier is out on extended medical leave. The carrier they were using (either a new hire or a transfer) resigned! The other carriers are trying to pick up the slack but are unfamiliar with my section of town. As for my package, it was there at the post office but in the process of being loaded to be delivered to my house. She said if I really needed it she would go dig it out, but since it is just an audio cable I said I would just wait for it. I told her that going forward I would continue marking items promised but not delivered on the Informed Delivery site. She didn't seem to be happy about that, but understood my frustration.

Maybe if they spent more time delivering mail instead of spying on American Citizens, service could improve.

The USPS Is At It Again, Now The Problems Are Local

I don't know what the fuck is going on, but I am going to find out today. I am only getting deliveries every other day according to my "Informed Delivery" account. I have been waiting for a package from an eBay seller in Illinois. It was showing "out for delivery" along with the rest of my mail on Saturday. When I checked this morning I had no mail and the package said it was ready for pickup back at the post office. A friend that retired from the USPS said I should tag everything not delivered when promised which will ding them negatively. He also told me they get in trouble for not finishing their routes and/or if they get back after a certain time. I had a great carrier, but I haven't seen her in a long time, so I don't know what is going on. According to my wife who is on FecesBook, there are lots of complaints from residents on the town neighbor page, so it isn't just me being a crabby old man.

Progress On The Deck

First let me say I enjoy doing construction. I have many extensive home improvement projects under my belt, most of which I did on my previous house which was an small cape built in 1950. I stripped and refinished the hardwood floors, stripped and replaced the roof, rebuilt the front porch, did the bathroom twice (because the tile we put in the tub the first time did not hold up, and got replaced with acrylic walls), kitchen renovation and expansion (the floor and cabinets were done by contractor, I did everything else), second floor renovation (except the W-W carpet install), stripped and repaired the exterior in preparation for vinyl siding, plus several other smaller projects. In my current house, I built and plumbed my wife's stainless steel dog washing tub, built my chicken coop and pen like you would build a house (which is why it is still there and rock solid after 14 years), did all the demo work when we replaced the 1st floor carpet with bamboo hardwood, and did the demo and plumbing when we put in the quartz kitchen countertops. The reason I don't do it for a living is because I am S-L-O-O-O-O-O-W and would never be able to make money at it. I also don't have an equipped truck full of tools and supplies, so I am constantly having to stop and run out to get what I need.

 

Tuesday the 3rd, I got the stairs in. It was a royal pain in the ass setting the base concrete blocks for the stringers to rest on.

The four new deck boards are for continuing the overhang where the railing used to be.

Once the stairs were in I cut back the railing to match where the edge of the new wider steps are. That was it for the day because the bright sun of earlier became clouds and then rain.

Yesterday I worked on the railings, but didn't get too far. Remember when I said I don't have a truck full of everything I need? Yeah. I thought the screws holding the structure together were 3" #10 exterior deck screws. Nope... those are too long and would have poked out the backside of whatever boards I was screwing together. I cut out the two angled 2 x 6 pieces for the stair railings and called it quits to go back to Lowe's to exchange the #10 3" screws I had bought for #10 2 1/2". When I got home I got the left half of the stair railing partially in place, and then my wife called to say she was on her way home from work. QUITTING TIME!! We had one more "Hello Fresh" meal in the fridge so it was my job to get dinner cooked. I not only know my way around a circular saw, but a kitchen as well. Dinner was Beef Bulgogi Meatballs and delicious.

The Hello Fresh meal recipe card. Detailed instructions for prep, cooking, and serving are on the rear.

 

It is an Asian inspired dish. The Bulgogi BBQ Sauce is labeled as Korean, and we like our food spicy so I dumped in the entire packet of Sriracha Sauce for maximum heat. It was quite flavorful and I washed mine down with a Sam Adams Porch Rocker.

Southern New England has been stuck under a stationary front the past couple of days, and the rain has been on and off. Today has been one of those days mostly wet and damp, so no progress until tomorrow. It is supposed to be warm and sunny for just one day, then back to unsettled. I'm not sure how much I will actually get done tomorrow, because I could get a phone call to go for a ride on "The Beast" for which I will have to take action on.