Cheers to a New Beginning! again...

Late last month I decided I would try to do 31 posts in July. Yesterday I wrote a excellent post.

And then forgot to post it.

Yeah, life is like that.

Any rate, here is yesterday's post. Today's will go up later today.

I figure its a good time to pick up blogging again. Times are becoming interesting.

The election coming up will without a doubt be the most important of the last 60 years. It will determine whether we will remain a (semi) free country or descend into socialism.

I am hoping the pendulum will reverse its 70 year swing to the left and start back right again.

I am also looking at the weather for blog topics. It is the first of July, and we are August hot and dry. What will August be like? 110 degrees and NO rain?

And then the coming winter the forecast I looked at said to get ready for 77-78 again.

It's not bad enough we have the Carter economy back again, we have to put up with his weather too? And I can't wait to hear the weather wizards explain how 25 below zero and 4 feet of snow all over the Midwest is just more evidence of severe Global Warming.

Interesting times; Interesting times.

I am also looking to make this blog a sort of diary of the next 4 months. My reactions to the things that are happening on the campaign trail, both Presidential and Congressional, the economy as it 'recovers', the housing market, as it 'recovers' and anything else that catches my fancy.

I think it is safe to say that grand changes are on the way. The question is whether they will blow right or left.

Hopefully I'll still be standing when the wind stops in November.

Today I'm in Heaven

About 10 years ago my Dad bought a BUNN coffemaker. He loved the coffee, but hated the idea that the thing was constantly hot, so he gave it to me.

I loved the thing. 5 minutes from hitting the switch to a full pot of darn near boiling tea- yeah, I drink tea, not coffee; because of a caffeine issue.

But about a year ago the damn cat knocked my BUNN off the counter and ever since it has leaked while brewing. I tried getting the parts from BUNN, but their customer service SUCKS. And, because BUNN's Customer Service SUCKS, I wasn't about to cough up a hundred bucks for a new one.

So for about 8 months I just got accustomed to adding an extra 2 cups of water to the tank and wiping up 2 cups of water from the counter. Yeah, it was a bad situation.

So I bought a $10 Rival at Walmart. Took 30 minutes to make a pot of tepid tea, and the pot was so poorly designed that it leaked whenever you poured anything from it. For the last 4 months I have still been wiping up half a cup of water from the counter every morning.

Then yesterday the wife went to a yard sale and found a BUNN for $10. This morning, for the first time in 4 months I had a HOT cup of tea in 5 minutes. I start the tea, prepare my cup with a little sugar and a little milk, pour a little milk in a bowl for Daisy, and Voila! Tea is done, and too hot to drink.

I don't care if it does rain today; Heaven on Earth has returned!

I Hate February

And I know why.

The days are short, cold and sunless. How in the Hell Phil saw his shadow in this muck is beyond me. I can't even find enough light to get my vitamin D. Or is it C we get from sunlight?

Don't remember right now, and don't care. I HATE February.

And I know why. During February I usually have a hard time becoming motivated. I can't even become stirred enough to check the Internets to see which vitamin it is we get from sunlight.

I hate February because of what it does to me on a yearly basis. There is no rush toward Christmas to keep me occupied and busy; any project I have can usually wait another day. Or two. Or seven.

I'm more likely to hit the lazy boy than I am the workshop on a weekend or an evening; a nap seems more productive than making sawdust.

But then the Ides of March hit. Grass starts turning a little greener; daffodils start peeking up through the morning frost and the new small leaves start sneaking past the bark on the lilac bush. The furnace starts running less and less and one day we can actually open a window, for the first time in what seems like a lifetime.

And I start feeling the stirrings of my motivation again. Spring not only reawakens the dormant saps to bring the plants to flower; it also brings to life the dormant creative juices that the darkest days of winter forced into hibernation.

I hate February.

It's the Purgatory of the year; the place we spend our penance in hope of the rebirth we have been promised. And every year the rebirth happens, and life goes on.

If we can survive another damned February.

One Small Step for Man

I meant to take a minute this week and blog on the anniversary of the Apollo moon landing, but this week has been crazy busy. I am taking a break from the project that has kept me so busy and I’ll take a minute now and put my thoughts down for posterity.

If you weren’t cognizant in the 1960’s (I was for the last few years) you cannot fathom the effect of the moon landing on the nation. It was, quite literally, a different nation then. A large segment of the population had been born before the Wright Brothers first flight. A larger percentage had been born before Lindberg’s flight. A majority had been born before jet aircraft, and a vast majority had been born before man first slipped the surly bonds of earth and entered outer space.

And yet, here we were; walking on the moon. Even to the eight year old me, it was surreal.

I don’t remember the lift-off of Apollo 11. I probably saw it, but rocketry was becoming fairly commonplace, and the lift off didn’t stick. But the moon landing; that stuck.

I was a hot July night, and I remember sitting on our front porch with my Dad. We had the black and white portable TV up on the wide brick porch rail and we sharing his porch lounger. And probably one of his beers. We used to watch TV on the porch a lot in the summer. I also remember watching Pete Rose knock Bob Fosse into the first row of seats at Riverfront Stadium on the same TV, on that same porch the next summer, just as we had watched the Democratic and Republican Conventions there the year before. But, I digress.

It still seems unreal, 40 years later, that we were watching a man step onto the surface of the moon. On LIVE TV. The idea that we could harness the industrial and scientific might of our country so that in less than a decade we could go from regularly having misfires on the launch pad to actual human space travel was mind boggling.

The United States has mobilized before, when we had to. The economy became a war machine pretty quickly in 1942. But this was for a peaceful purpose. And the moon race didn’t disrupt the entire economy. We still fought the war in Vietnam, still produced new cars and still consumed our normal production goods. And put a man on the moon.

40 years later my kids don’t seem as excited about space travel; probably because they will actually get to travel in space one day, and expect to. They’re all young, and they are starting to schedule space flights now for commercial travelers. In 20 years going into outer space for a vacation may be as common as a visit to Disneyland.

But 40 years ago, space was as unattainable as Heaven itself. Until Neil Armstrong took that one small step for man.

In later years we would drive cars and golf balls on the moon, and moon shots and space travel became routine. Instead of wall to wall coverage we had highlights at 6 o’clock. The first few space shuttle launches were special events, but by the time of the Challenger explosion they had become highlights on the news. On the slow news days.

But there was a time, 40 years ago, when the whole world watched as one man planted and saluted a flag. On the surface of the moon.

You know how it goes

You set out with a great goal.

First, you get busier than you thought you'd be.

And then that emergency comes up.

And then one day runs into the next.

Before you know it, it has been over two years since you've made a blog post.

Damn the bad luck.

But then, I've learned alot about blogging in the last two years. From the best of them; and you know who you are.

My goal, for the next year, is to blog like a Trooper.

But without the cleavage.

And food.

What the Hell is left?