Dreams

There is a line in the John Wayne classic, Big Jake that is appropriate today.

Wayne's character is about to pay a one million dollar ransom- in 1909 dollars- and as he tosses the key to the strong box to the lead bandit Big Jake says "That's the stuff that dreams are made of."

There is a lot of dreaming going on today. How long would it take you to decide how to spend $550,000,000? What would you spend it on? How long would you keep your job after you won?

Five Hundred And Fifty Million Dollars; Half a Billion Dollars. No matter how you say it, it sounds like an unfathomable amount of money.

How would it make feel to know that that amount of money would not even put you in the top 400 richest people in the United States? You would have to double your jackpot, and then some, to even get a sniff at number 400. You would have to multiply it by 132 times to become second on the list to Bill Gates.

Adding up the fortunes of the ten richest folks in the country brings in about $346 billion; a staggering sum of money; 750 times the Powerball jackpot.

Then take that $346 billion and multiply it another 48 times; that's our national debt.

Kinda puts it into perspective; doesn't it?

ReStore Score

The Cincinnati Chapter of Habitat for Humanity has a series of stores that sell home goods and building supplies they call the ReStore. Some are new, others used or antique. They also have appliances, both new and used. Until today all of the stores were on the Ohio side of the river, and since the only thing I buy up there is Yuegling Beer, I never had the opportunity to visit.

Today they opened a store on the good side of the river out on US 42, on left just past Mall Road. If you're local, those are enough directions. If your not local, what the Hell do you care where it's located? Since I was out in the Florence area anyway dropping in to see the grandsons I decided to stop by.

I probably shouldn't have. I could have spent $500 in there today. As it was, I spent just over $100. But what a deal! I also agree with the premise; donate the used stuff that still has life in to save space n the landfills and to allow cheapskates like me access to inexpensive, quality goods. Plus, whoever does the donating gets to cheat Obama out of a few bucks. Win-Win- WIN!!!!!

I have been needing a new garage door. The old one is still serviceable. Meaning it does go up and down, and does at least block the hole when its down. Somewhat. More or less. Its an old wood door, probably from the late 1960's, so it has done its duty and ready to retire.

But I was having issues buying a new one. $250 for a cheap one; $5-600 for a decent one. Chunk of change, to replace one that still worked. Somewhat. More or less.

Then today walking around the ReStore between the $15 ceiling fans and the $5 fluorescent light fixtures are new garage doors. Brand and style aren't important, but the doors that I have been seeing at Lowes and Home Depot in the $600 range are here for $145.00. Now that's a deal!

But wait! There's MORE!!!

Because this is the inaugural weekend, they are giving you, GIVING you I say, another 20% off of that price! Okay; I thought I had a deal before, but now's it's REALLY a DEAL!!!!

But wait; there's MORE!

IF you donate a can good too the Freestore Foodbank, they will take off another 10%!!!!

So I grabbed a garage door and two cans of green beans from the trunk, called my son- who lives close and has a minivan, and purchased myself a $600 garage door for.....

$107.00, tax title and warranty; out the door. I also couldn't resist, and bought 2 fluorescent light fixtures, complete with 4 bulbs, for $7.42. 8 bulbs would cost twice that at Home Depot.

Plus they were giving away free hot dogs, metts and brauts, so I was able to chow down on a hot dog and a couple of brauts while I was at it. No sauerkraut or horseradish, but still, for that price, who am I to complain?

So to recap: I got a $600 garage door and $80 worth of light fixtures for less than $120 bucks, plus a free lunch, and I helped out a charity that actually does good work that I support all in one afternoon.

I am hoping you stopped reading a few paragraphs ago and have already grabbed you keys.

If you haven't, then you must have more money than Romney.

Today, In the Comics

 

One of the things that allowed me to cut the newspaper cord was finding a free site for online comic strips. Sports I have always been able to do without; weather was easy; look out the dang window, and the radio will always give me the news, along with the internet.

But I had to have my Comics fix. It just ain't Sunday without the full-color, multi-panel update on the latest adventures of Beetle Bailey and a couple other dozen characters.

One day I stumbled on Go Comics. My comic strip fix was in the bag.

Now every morning I can sit at my computer and read a collection of the strips that I want to see, without having to skip over Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, awhile wishing the paper would replace them with something I want to read.

Life is Good.

But I told you that story to tell you this one.

This morning I ran across this comic:

If this doesn't capture the hipster-dufus as a parent perfectly, I don't know what does. Well, except that they seem to have large coffee mugs instead of Starbucks cups.

This one panel and one line covers everything. The kid is crying; its normal to cry (if you are a hipster-dufus anyway) if you are emotionally upset, so the baby must be emotionally upset, and needs therapy. And it is 'dad' (?) saying this, while holding his purse. Immediately the crying of his child has become a problem somebody else needs to deal with.

Classic liberal thinking: I have determined that this issue is not my problem (because, hey; I don't feel like dealing with it); the rest of you need to handle it.

Doesn't that cover almost anything? Homelessness? Government programs. Hunger? Government programs. Still hungry? Larger Government programs. Name an issue? Lets get a Government Program to handle that.

Once he has begun a Government Program to handle the issue, the liberal is done. He no longer needs to worry about (Fill in the Blank Issue), because the Government is handling that now.

Which is probably why our young hipster-dufus parents are ready to take their child to therapy; the Government is handling the bill, so no worries.

I also found a second strip today that I just had to comment on. In some of my posts, I have casually mentioned, the fact that I like to drink beer (Apologies to Tom T. Hall). And one of my favorite places to drink beer is the Hofbrau Haus in Newport Kentucky, especially in weather like this in the Bier Garten,

Well, apparently I have been missing the point.

 

This can be considered a HOBBY!

Who knew?

Friday Night At The Movies IV

Last night I was looking for a movie on Netflix and found an old TV show instead; Highlander.

Its 20 years old now, but still interesting; the three episodes I watched last night held up well. My basic requirements were met; a good story, convincingly told.

In case you're not familiar with the premise of the movies and the TV show, our hero is Duncan McLeod; he is 400 years old, and one of a collection of immortals roaming the earth. There are good immortals, friends of his; and bad immortals, usually one an episode, who loses his head. Literally.

It seems you can kill an immortal, but the only way to make him stay dead is to cut off his head. So every immortal carries a sword with him- or her- everywhere. Just in case he happens to run into another immortal who needs to lose his head.

I know, stated like that it sounds cheesy, and could have been if handled differently. The shows I remember were always well done, and had the extra bonus- for me anyway- of telling the back story of the immortal that Duncan would meet in each episode, usually from a couple of hundred years ago, when the two immortals had first met. You can make a lot of friends (and enemies) in 400 years.

I remember the show ran in syndication on on Friday nights, about midnight. The kids were asleep, FINALLY, and the week was about to close. A good time for a little escapist fantasy TV.

Who hasn't thought about living forever? Other than the whole losing your head thing, it seemed like a good gig. Who cares if it takes 10 years to perfect a skill? What's 10 years out of 400 or so? Think of the things you could do in 400 years, especially if you were in your physical prime.

So last night me and the wife relived a little past. It wasn't like it was 20 years ago. The kids weren't asleep; they were out running around somewhere. And it wasn't 1:00 when were turned off the TV and went to bed; it was more like 10:30. Okay; it was 10:15. But in my defense, it had been a busy day.

So Highlander is now in my instant queue; all 119 episodes. So I figure I'm good for the next 2 years of Friday nights, assuming I live that long.

I'm not Immortal you know.

Friday Night at the Movies

I was searching through Netflix last night for something to watch and ran across Urban Cowboy. If I have ever watched the whole movie it has been 30 years. Parts of it I remembered, and parts of it were new, probably because I had never seen it before, except bits while channel surfing between commercial breaks.

One of the parts I didn't remember was the beginning, where a bearded Bud, Travolta's character, leaves the farm for the big city.  Something that is not really worked through the whole movie is that Bud is not an Urban Cowboy, but a Cowboy transplanted to the Urban. That puts a whole different spin on the way the movie plays out.

One scenes is still iconic- Debra Winger riding the mechanical bull for the second time really sticks with you. The interiors, shot at Gilley's, (once billed as the largest honky-tonk in the world)  treated the whole world to Texas Excess.

I've never been a real big fan of Travolta's. I have seen Grease a few times, but other than that I probably haven't seen a total of 30 minutes of his other movies, and probably couldn't name more than 2 or 3. But Urban Cowboy is special. For the soundtrack.

I have the 8-Track somewhere in the attic. I was stuck in the radio in my old T-bird for a month back in the day, and I must have heard it a thousand times that month. Mickey Gilley, of course; Johnny Lee, Charlie Daniels, Kenny Rogers and the Eagles, just to name a few. A veritable whos-who of late 70's music.

Even last night I was focused more on the music that I was the movie. the songs that formed the background for the movie were also the soundtrack of my life in 1980. Each was as familiar as an old friend, and brought back another memory.

Well, except one. A song I heard last night for the first time; it wasn't on my 8-Track. The 8-Track held about 10 songs, and there are 18 in the album. As soon as I heard the song I knew who the artist was, even though I had never heard the song before. I was only mildly surprised to hear him; 1980 was probably his biggest year, as far as establishment music goes. He had just had a hit song that was played everywhere- Pop, Country and Rock radio all had that one song in their playlists, and still do today.

Yes, in the movie the Urban Cowboy was that grand purveyor of drunk, Caribbean rock and rock and the Mayor of Margarita-ville himself, Jimmy Buffet.

Who knew?

Well, I guess I would have, if I would have sat through the Urban Cowboy 30 years ago.

Watched Any Good Home Improvement TV Lately?

Something I noticed the other day was that although the cable channels like DIY and HGTV still air shows like Property Ladder and Flip This House, they aren't making any new episodes. Basically because there is no more money to be made in short term housing investment, as a rule.

Instead, what they showing as the new Get Rich Quick scheme shows? Have you seen the one with the two guys and a truck who roam the country grubbing around in old barns and dingy basements looking for semi-buried treasure?

What about the one (or two or three) about the guys who buy abandoned storage sheds and seem to make a fortune digging through cardboard boxes?

Or how about the one where folks bring their old junk to the pawn shop to try and make a few bucks?

Do you see the pattern here?

Instead of investing in junk houses to make a quick buck, now you invest in REAL junk to make a quick buck.

I don't doubt folks can do it, I just doubt any Joe off the street can walk into a barn full of junk, identify the diamond in the rough, buy it cheap enough to make a few bucks, and then find the buyer the current owner couldn't.

Take the guys on American Pickers. PLEASE! I love the show, hate the guys. I don't know whether it is their accents, their attitudes or the way they interact with each other, but I tend to watch AP in spite of the guys, not because of them. That being said, I completely respect the knowledge they have acquired over years of doing this kind of work. And not just in one or two areas of expertise, but several. They are passionate about the items, but dispassionate enough to assess both realistic value to a final consumer and to themselves in a purchase price.

And that is where I have my problem with these kind of shows. How many of us can separate ourselves from the things we are passionate about enough to be realistic about their real value?

As Shakespeare said it: 'Therein lies the rub'. I can see folks who will think they do what these ignorant guys on TV do, and spend a lot of time losing a fortune. Just because they are completely enamored with early 21st Century rustic pottery doesn't mean its worth a cart load to every body (or anybody) else.

Just like these same folks saw a show once on flipping a house that suddenly made them experts in the real estate market- just before the crash.

The problem is these shows don't show the years of bad decisions and self education that goes into making money off of junk. The learning, often the hard way, about what it costs to restore or rehab, or even properly clean an item. They tend to short change the hard work that goes into getting rich quick and easy.

I guess that is the problem I have with these types of shows in general. They minimize the work, and only show the glory. Which I can kind of understand.

Hard work doesn't make for good TV, does it?

Oktoberfest is More Than Beer

Last night I went to a local Oktoberfest and had one hell of a good time. I seriously think they stole my grandmothers recipe for Sauerbraten; it was that good. About two hours after dinner I even managed a snack: a big fat braut with saurkraut and horseradish. Not on wiener bun, but on a hard crusted roll. I'm ready for another one of them today.

And the beer! Warstiener Oktoberfest on tap evrywhere you looked; life is good. I even bought the plastic souvenier mug for 2 bucks. The steins were $38, and a little pricey for me. The weather was perfect. Just a little warm if you were in one of the tents, but out under the trees in the biergarten it was perfect.

But that's not the topic of this essay.

One of the entertainments was German Folk Dancing, like this video I found on YouTube.



I have never thought much about dancing- I was never very good at it anyway- but being in a philosophical mood I did start to examine the meaning and uses of dance as a mating ritual.

Every culture has traditional folk dances. Usually fairly complex patterns of motion and interaction with other dancers set to a specific tune or rhythm, they sometimes function as a story-telling medium.

But here is a function I didn't think of until last night. Why have the dances at all?

Darwin's theory of Survival of the Fittest is a good place to start. Everyone looks for the fittest mate available to them, and traditional dances are designed to showcase some of the traits looked for in a mate; coordination, memory, ability to interact with others and physical prowess. The basic traits that are needed to survive and need to be passed on to the next generation so they can thrive.

Prior to the dance, these skills would have been showcased during the Hunt, or in other communal activities that as society became more industrial- even 2000 years ago industry and trade had replace the tribal community, even though it was a very rudimentary industry- communal events were created where the young could be exposed to one another and the evaluation of potential mates begun.

And the ritual dances were born.

If you couldn’t do the steps, maintain the timing or remember the intricate patterns, then your worth as a potential mate was limited by those failures.

This has sort of been updated to the “Cool Kids” ideal, and fitting into the various levels of modern society and the place where the mating rituals are most often performed today, far from the watchful eyes of parents: High School.

The rituals are not time honored and based on traditional actives, but vary generation to generation, school by school and even year to year. They aren’t prepared or governed by the adults for the most part, but are developed and governed by the young adults themselves and the self appointed social arbiters of the day.

What does it mean in the end? Hell; I don’t know.

I just have one question:

Is it this rush away from tradition one of the reasons our culture is disintegrating as we watch?

Grand Style, Circa 1895

I went to a business party here last night. This place is fantastic, and in and incredible state of preservation. Its called the 1770 Sherman Event Center, and just being in the building is an event.




This was a Mason's Hall in Denver, until a few years ago. Interestingly enough, their website says the building was constructed in 1906, but the cornerstone says 1895. But then; it could have taken 10 years to build this place.



My pictures don't do the place justice. If I would have known where I was going I would have taken a better camera.



Every inch of wood in this place s intricately carved; There must be over a mile of this molding alone.



What isn't carved is painted. This view is down one of the barrel vaults shown earlier. Check out the Chandelier/disco ball hanging in the middle of the room.



One other neat feature that you can't see well in this photo is a small stone set in the wall about 18 feet from the sidewalk. It says:ONE MILE HIGH.



I have to admit to kind of ignoring the focus of the party so I could look around the building.

The engineering was fantastic as well. They had a massive open room with a mezzanine on the second floor with a multiple barrel vaulted ceiling, and full theater on the third.

An incredible treasure in downtown Denver.

What a Sunday, Part Duex

After I managed to get a post up I realized that KET has Masterpiece Theater on.

Hercule Poirot and Murder on the Orient Express.

Double Score.

And just for the record, yes, I am still humming Buffet.

What A Sunday!

Okay; this week sucked.

Our computers were down at work; the weather was too hot, my father-in-law had surgery on Wednesday and we had a death in the family on Thursday.

This week was bad.

I was looking forward to Friday night. Friday night is my unwind night. Slip into the comfys and drink beer; that is my Friday.

Pop-in-law is still in the hospital and The Wife needs a ride Friday night. Plus, we have the Young'un and she needs to be home at 8:30.

We didn't get back to the house from our errands until 9:30. So much for my comfys and beer.

Well, there is always Saturday.

Yeah, well; about Saturday.

Saturday morning I moved 200 bales of hay for my sister, did a few things around the house and just when it was BEER:30 I found out I need to take The Wife to the hospital again.

While we were there I realized my right elbow was swollen and on the way home we stopped by the Urgent Care for a little medical exam. They really didn't help; it's Saturday night and I can't bend my beer drinkin' arm for crap's sake! A couple of prescriptions and they sent e home.

At 9:30.

One beer and off to bed.

Sunday is not normally one of my beer drinkin' days.

But at 7:00, just by happenstance, I turned on the TV and started surfing.

And ran into a Jimmy Buffet concert- live from the Gulf Coast of Alabama.

I have spent the last hour and a half in my recliner; drinkin' beer and watching Jimmy Buffet perform some of his biggest hits.

If somebody would have bonked me in the head with an inflatable shark I would have thought was there. I had the surround sound cranked and the beer was flowing.

Ahhhhhhhh.....

Now I'm ready for Monday.

Come Monday, it'll be alright, come Monday I'll be holding you tight...

Sorry; for a minute there I was gone to the Bahamas...

Oh what the Hell...

Wastin' away again in Margaritaville...
Lookin' for my lost shaaaker of salt...

(Don't mind me; I'll be here all night)

Some people claim...

Since I work during the day I can very seldom listen to the radio between 9 and Noon, but this morning I was able to try and catch a few minutes of Mike McConnell's program on WLW.

Today Scott Sloan was on, with no mention of where McConnell was.

Politburo-like, no mention means bad news on Clear Channel.

So I did a little hunting and found this.

Damn and Double Damn.

I have been catching McConnell off and on during the day for I know over 25 years. I have been listening since Trivia Mondays. How long ago was that?

Hell, I even fixed his car once (an early '80s Buick big body (LeSabre I think) with a V-6; it had to be a dog on the highway.

But Mike never was. I can't remember ever turning his show off because it wasn't interesting.

And I seldom disagree with him; that makes him a purty smart individual right there.

But this ain't the old days. I won't have to lay awake nights hoping for a clear night and some WGN skip.

I can tune WGN in on my computer, or in the car on my iPhone.

I just won't be supporting WLW anymore.

Check out some of the comments in the article from the Sun-Times. The first few weeks of Mike in Chicago may be a real hoot.

This is Just Too Funny

So I had to share.

I found this through the comments section of Truth About Cars.

Is there anything you can't find on YouTube?

Just Like Bigfoot

I hope you'll pardon the poor quality of this photo, but, just like Bigfoot, other rare and strange creatures seldom can be caught posing for pictures.

This creature started life as either a Dodge Omni or a Plymouth Horizon, and at this point is somewhere between 20-30 years old; an exact age is not discernible at this distance and with this degree of disfigurement.

I saw this car on the road a few weeks ago, and like a classic UFO (Unidentified Filling Object) confrontation, by the time I was ready to snap photographic proof of its existence, it was gone. And, like those of us who have witnessed events for which there is doubt of their actual existence, I kept my mouth shut. Who would have believed me if I HAD described this car?

The headlights have been removed and replaced with bolt on units; the grill has been replaced with a 1930's style of round and upright one; the wheel wells have had fenders added to them; all of the windows have had external visors attached, and then there are the whitewall tires and baby moon hubcaps.

As luck would have it, on Thanksgiving my brother approached me, somewhat warily, as if he didn't want the word of his sighting to become general knowledge, as ask if I could I identify the car he was unable to.

No wonder he couldn't figure out what it was. New, this car would have looked more like this:



Not a beauty by any means, but acceptable in public, unlike its twisted sister.

Since I had already had a close encounter with the rare (thankfully; do you really want more than one of these creature roaming around?) critter, I was happy to oblige with an identification; if he would allow me publish the photograph here.

This cars existence proves one thing though.

It proves I can be wrong.

I always said you couldn't ugly up a Dodge Omni.

I was in Frankfort Kentucky yesterday on a semi-business excursion, and made a pilgrimage to Daniel Boone's grave in the Frankfort Cemetery. The cemetery was founded in 1844, and the re-internment of Daniel and Rebecca Boone in 1845 were among the first burials.

On the way out of the cemetery we stopped at a spot called Government Hill, where there is a memorial to Kentucky's war dead. Originally a column inscribed with the names and battles of the War of 1812 and the Mexican-American War, it was recently expanded to a set of granite plaques that list all of Kentucky's war dead in every conflict from the War of 1812 to the Persian Gulf War, except the Civil War. The names from WWII alone take up almost 4 of the 6 panels.

This marker and grave are in a very prominent spot and I wanted to find out more about the author, Theodore O'Hara. the plaque only has a few lines from the much longer poem, which apparently has been used many times, most notably at Arlington National Cemetery.

I just I would have had this photo and story for Veteran's Day.

Amazing the things you find when you go off the beaten track a little.

Hidden Treasures

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A couple of weeks ago I had a chance to visit an old home now being used for business offices. The place was built about 1890, and has basically been untouched since. The title picture is the back, or servant's staircase, and the wainscot you see is leather.

Yep, leather. Approximately 40 feet of hand tooled leather. Every room I saw on the first floor was treated the same way, each with a different pattern. I can't imagine the cost of reproducing this today; the work must have taken years.

And the place was full of hand carved wood. This shot is the front parlor mirror top detail.



And this stained glass window in the entry hall:




Every time I turned around I saw something else that fascinated me. Like the front doors:



Or the front parlor light fixture:



This is what's called a transitional fixture. See how some of the arms point up and others point down? The upward ones burned gas, a very common method of lighting in the 1890s. The new technology was electricity (the downward arms), and it was still unreliable. When the electricity was working, you used it; when it didn't, you lit the gas.

In this picture you can also see the front parlor mirror and the stained glass window reflected in it.