The kilt project proceeds apace. (I've always wanted to use that word.) I found 
Speaking of Dad, he's doing a lot better. He has some fluid in his lungs, and they have to put in chest tubes to drain them. Otherwise, he's stronger and more alert than when he went in.
Yesterday, I posted a picture of Lydia (from my comic). Today, I am posting a picture of Natalie.
At about the same time as this announcement, the BBC printed a story on their web site about the depletion of the world's oil reserves, and CNN ran a story that said oil production would peak in 2010.
While driving to work one day, I was thinking about these stories and the current fighting in the Middle East, and thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be great if this country had an actual energy policy dedicated to reducing our dependence on foreign oil?"
California, under Governator Arnold Schwarzenegger, has made some impressive strides in this regard. First, they opened up the HOV lanes on the freeways to single occupant cars that get more than 40 MPG. Detroit was outraged. They said it showed an alarming preference for Japanese cars. Well, Duh! The only cars on the market that meet that criteria are Toyota Prius and Honda Civic Hybrid. Maybe if the Big Three made a car that got great gas mileage . . . Other states are following suit.
Next, the Governator signed a bill into law that could affect the entire country. If the regulations survive legal challenges from the auto industry, it would require the companies to reduce emissions by 30% by 2016. Detroit claims that there is no technology that can be put into place to meet these limits. However a recent study has found just the opposite.
Look, the long and short of it is, we are in Iraq to get oil. If we want to be free of the muddled Middle East tangle, we need to become independent from oil, and that means converting to alternative energy sources. In other words, vote for the candidate that promises to do just that. And don't think that Kerry will do it--he has already met with Detroit automakers to put their minds at ease about his presidency. (I wish I could find the article. It was in the Detroit Free Press a month or two ago.)
My promise keeps getting shattered more and more. We had to put Dad back into the hospital Thursday night. Apparently, sometimes after pancreatitis, the organ develops something like an abscess. He'd been getting weaker and weaker, and had lost 14 pounds in a week. So . . .
I did a drawing of Lydia (you know, from my comic, Chasing the Sun) and thought I would post it here. Let me know what you think.
Okay, to get the giggling out of the way, I need to tell you that I am going to try and make a kilt. Yes, I bought one, but Utilikilts no longer makes them in urban camouflage. And I want one in urban camouflage. So, I've started to work. Here's a photo of the first step:
I'm going to start with the bottom hem, and then, I want to find the center of the length, and start pleating. See this spot for updates.
Well, I have broken my promise to my late Aunt Johnnie to update the site more regularly. I must say, though, it has been the Summer from Hell.
First, my uncle Bob Turner had a heart attack and had heart bypass surgery. Then Johnnie died. Then, Dad comes down with a severe case of pancreatitis, and spent 21 days in intensive care in San Antonio. We've had him home for a few weeks, but he seems to take two steps forward and one step back.
Friday, Grandmother Wilson had a minor stroke, and was taken to the hospital by EMS called by my aunt Nelda. Saturday, Mom went to Brownwood to see what was going on, and discovered that Grandmother had lost her mind from Alzheimer's Disease. ('Course, we'd known that for a while.) So Mom's been in Brownwood for the last couple of days.
I had started smoking again back in December. I quit in August, but then Dad went back into the hospital four days later. So much for a non-smoking lifestyle. I had intended to quit again tomorrow. Then Mom tells me Grandmother is going to be living with us for a couple of weeks, after she spends a couple of weeks with Sue.
Looks like I picked the wrong month to quit smoking. Again. (Ten imaginary points for anyone who can tell me where that line came from!)
I am also trying to sew a kilt of my own. I found a pattern
online, but want to use an urban camouflage pattern (at $7/yard) to recreate the Utilikilt style I like. I think I have enough fabric to try a prototype and then one I might actually wear. If this works, I want to make another one in the official State of Texas tartan, Texas Bluebonnet (at $32/yard). That kilt will be a more traditional style kilt, the pleats depending on the width of the pattern. But since Mom's out of town, my sewing lessons can't begin.
Clear Channel Communications is flexing its deregulated muscles. It seems that a Tennessee radio station had trademarked the phrase "BUZZ" for its radio station, and is a bit perturbed by Clear Channel registering the domain name www.1021thebuzz.net for a station in Dallas. The Tennessee station is demanding that Clear Channel release the domain name, while Clear Channel is counter charging that the Tennessee station was not entitled to the trademark and that they stop using it. Ain't deregulation wonderful?
(18) Did anyone see "The Simpsons" tonight? What a great show!
Bart gets an inoculation and loses his hearing, and tries to moon a donkey at a donkey basketball game. However, he doesn't hear the national anthem and the flag drops between him and the donkey, and he is photographed mooning the flag. He's accused of being un-American, and Congress determines that December 25 is "Hate Springfield Day." Mayor Quimby renames the city Liberty-ville. When Lisa stands up in church and says that freedom of speech is guaranteed by the First Amendment, a SWAT team swings through the stained glass windows and arrests the family for violating "The Government know Better Act."
Welcome to Donald Rumsfeld's America!
The Simpsons wind up in prison and escape after a talent show. They go to France, where they "hate America, too!" They realize that they miss America, and immigrate home. The show ends on the song "Coming to America" by Neil Diamond, as their ship sails past the Statue of Liberty.
Who says satire is dead?
(16) I am starting to feel like Al Bundy from "Married With Children." Everyday after work, Al would enter the living room and say, "A fat lady came into the shoe store today . . ."
On Wednesday, a guy calls the office to make a reservation for his wife and mother-in-law. I give him three choices, and he picks the cheapest one. Today, the wife comes in and looks at the pictures of the house and asks if she can move. One of the gals tells her that she is responsible for the reservation, so no, she can't move. She calls back shortly after arriving at the house saying it's dirty. The gal asks, "How is it dirty?" The lady says the tub is dirty. The gal argues for a second, then asks me. I tell her to let the lady come back and choose something else.
The lady comes in and I give her her choice (her husband had asked for something with two beds, and the most expensive choice I gave him had been booked). She asks for more options. So I give her four one bedroom guesthouse and one four bedroom cottage that was three times the price of the one she didn't like. She takes the only option, and I explain that it will cost $20 more per night. The Lady sighs loudly and says okay.
The lady's mom starts bitching. The house that her son-in-law booked provided coupons for a continental breakfast. I told that, yes, it did. I explained that to the lady's husband. So the lady pays the difference. The mom asks if we do math the same way she does. I ask her what she means and she says, "How can $260 become $290?" I explain taxes to her. The lady gets my name and the gals name and asks who she can talk to to complain. (She had muttered something about everyone being sarcastic.
So, let's see, she's mad at me because her husband picked something she doesn't like?
I hate customers.
[Note: The next day, I spoke to the homeowner whom I had called when the guest said they hated the house. She said that when she arrived to ask them what was wrong, the mom had picked up the two coupons left for breakfast, and tried to stealthily put them back where she found them. No wonder Mom was so interested in the taxes! She got busted trying to steal from a homeowner.]
I have been watching G4TechTV and subscribing to a few computer newsletters, and have collected a few free programs that I use and recommend. So every week or so, I will introduce you to some software that you cannot live without.
First, you need to get Open Office. Open Office is a free office suite of software that includes a word processor, spreadsheet, and presentation software. It is a completely free alternative to Microsoft Office. It can open MS Office documents and you can save your work as MS Office documents.
I had some really big Office files, and Open Office has a bit of a problem opening them, but I love this program! If they would only come out with a Web design module, this would be a perfect suite.
It's a big download, but well worth it!
(11) I found an article on the Pravda web site that perfectly describes life in these United States. I did not write it, but am reprinting it here for your enjoyment. I have reformatted it to make it easier to read:
"If a woman puts a cup of hot coffee on the car seat between her legs when she is driving and talking on mobile phone at the same time, and the coffee gets spilt and burns her thighs, she blames the restaurant for this.
"If your son commits suicide, you blame rock-''-roll or his favorite musician.
"If you smoke 3 packs of cigarettes a day for 40 years and finally die of lung cancer, your family accuses the tobacco company.
"If your daughter gets pregnant from the captain of the school football team, you blame school for bad sexual education.
"If your neighbor crashed the car onto the tree when he was drunk and was driving home - the barman is guilty.
"If your relative got AIDS when he injected drugs to himself with the dirty syringe - the government is guilty as it did not provide him with the sterile syringe.
"If your grandchildren are bullies - television is guilty.
"If some psycho killed your friend - the weapons producer is guilty.
"If some other psycho breaks in the airplane cabin and tries to kill the pilot when the plane is high in the sky, and the passengers kill him instead, the mother of the killed guy accuses the air company.
"I have lived long enough to understand what the world is about. If I die when sitting at this computer, I want you to accuse Bill Gates."
I was surfing Fark this afternoon when I ran across this news story. McDonalds is being sued by a California woman for not replacing the oil they fry in with a healthier alternative, as they said they would do. The story dispassionately details the events leading up to the suit, including that McDonalds had announced earlier this year that the transition would be longer than they anticipated.
But it's the last paragraph that got me. I am reprinting here:
"Heart-clogging trans fat is made when manufacturers add hydrogen to vegetable oil — a process called hydrogenation."
Nowhere in the story did the Associated Press write in the article that trans fat clogged the heart. This sentence is unsubstantiated by the rest of the article! Gee, I wonder where the writer stands on the issue?
A better sentence would have begun, "Trans fat, which has been linked to heart disease, . . ." That way the article wouldn't sound so biased.
But, on the upside, at least they avoided the cliche "artery clogging" which seems to belong to the Center for Science in the Public Interest, which with the phrase "equivalent to [some amount] of Big Macs" a common measure of how bad food is for you.
You want to eliminate trans fats? Stop using margarine and artificial oils! Use butter and olive oil, where possible.
That's just my two cents.
(3)Our family moved to Fredericksburg when I was about four and my brother, Rodney, was about three. We moved into this house on Plum Street, just a couple of blocks from Main Street. Up until then, we had been living in Brady, close to all of our family in Coleman and Brownwood. (Actually, before that we lived in Santa Anna, even closer, but I was too young to remember anything about those days.)
One day, Rodney and I decided we would write a letter to our Uncle Bill. He had married my mom's second younger sister, Johnnie Belle (It wasn't until I was in my teens that I began to call her Johnnie, which she preferred over the more, shall we say, Southern-sounding name.) Rodney and I must have been afraid that Uncle Bill wouldn't find us after we moved, because we wrote to tell him that we missed him and hoped he would come to see us.
Now, a four year old has absolutely no clue how to send a letter, so we left our house, and walked up to Main Street, and into a gas station. We handed to letter to the guy behind a desk and asked him to mail it to our Uncle William. By the time we got home, Mom and Dad were, naturally, livid. We got the worst spanking of our lives that day.
Uncle Bill was our hero, and we wanted to make sure, I guess, that he wouldn't forget us.
Yesterday, we attended Johnnie's funeral. She died of cancer at 55 years of age. From the day she discovered that she had cancer to the end, William was by her side. And when she died at home last week, he was there. He worked from home so he wouldn't have to leave her side.
After the service, they led the family out first. And when the friends left the church auditorium, William greeted every one of them, thanked them for coming, all without batting an eye. After the graveside service, we went back to William and Johnnie's house (it still seems odd to call it William's house). He spoke with everyone and played with his granddaughters. I don't know that I would have had his composure. I would probably have been curled into a little ball somewhere crying my eyes out.
Tonight, I realized that, after thirty-odd years, my Uncle Bill is still my hero.
My Aunt Johnnie was such a wonderful person. She would often email me and tell me to update this web site more often. In May, when I saw her for the last time, before she knew about the cancer that would kill her, she teased me about my kilt, and wondered why I didn't wear it. When my Dad's brother came to visit (after we heard the sad news) I wore it, and I forgot to have someone take a picture of me wearing the kilt. I wanted Mom to take it up to show her. (I have added a picture below, under the entry for June 17.) That's the only regret I have concerning Johnnie. I told her I loved her when we left the lake to come home, so I have that covered.
Well, actually, I have one other regret.
After the reunion at the lake, Johnnie had all the families get together for family photos. As everyone was leaving, Johnnie remembered that no one had taken a picture of her family. But the granddaughters were asleep, so we didn't get a picture of them all together. A week or so later, Johnnie sent everyone a picture of her family. I am posting it here.
From Left to right, and top to bottom: back row: Amy, Clay; middle row: Jana, Brianna, Lily, Tammy, Abby Grace, Johnnie; Front row: Uncle Bill and Ray.
I will update the site more regularly, as Johnnie requested. And if you can, please send a donation to The American Cancer Society in the name of Johnnie Thomas. My Uncle Bill and I would appreciate it.
(29) I have been working on my comic. The other day, I drew a picture from the climactic scene of the latest chapter. Here it is:
Well, this is interesting. Several Wall Street brokerages have downgraded the larger radio stocks (excluding Clear Channel Communications). The reason for the downgrade is the glut of advertising on commercial radio stations, up to 25 minutes per hour on some networks.
I'm sure that the RIAA will blame the music pirates for the devaluation of these radio stocks, and the resulting decrease in ad revenues.
When will advertising people realize that there is a limit to the number of ads we will listen to, or watch on TV?
Advertising companies revolted against the TiVo because it allowed people to skip over commercials, which was one of the selling points of the units. They made the same complaint about VCRs.
Last year, when the Hallmark cable network got the rights to broadcast M*A*S*H, they broadcast the entire series once with all deleted scenes (the scenes were deleted to create more time for ads), and those 30 minutes episodes lasted 45 minutes. When the Science Fiction Network broadcast the digitally remastered Star Trek episodes, the one hour shows from the 60s expanded to 90 minutes, and the network still interrupted the show in the middle of acts to sell commercials. The Original Series was done in four acts, but SciFi made the show an 8 act show. Now SciFi broadcast the Original Series with the same deleted scenes that were broadcast on the local stations. Same with Hallmark and M*A*S*H.
We don't want spam in our email inbox, and we don't want it on our TVs either.
Donn and Ann came for a visit while Sean was here. Bob and Ann came down to wish our little leatherneck a good trip to Japan. We had barbecue, drank beer, and shot the shit. Here are the photos:
Jeanne's knees, Rodney and Sean
Mom, Ann and Donn
Rodney, Sean, Jeanne, Dad, Mom, Ann and Donn
A fat, drinking slob in a kilt
(13) First there was AM radio. Then there was stereo FM radio. The next incarnation of terrestrial radio is Digital. Digital radio promises CD quality sound, and it will be free!
Naturally, the RIAA is pissed. They insist that there needs to be some sort of copy protection so that we can't record songs off the air on our digital radio/CD recorder set. We will be able to record a block of songs, but not an individual song.
It's hard enough to record an individual song off the radio, what with the DJs' inability to keep their mouths shut when a song starts and one song fading out when another fades in. What makes the RIAA think somebody is going to go to all that trouble?
Regardless, I don't think the RIAA will be happy until radio stations pay them every time a song is played. Currently, the record labels don't get money from radio stations. Radio stations pay royalties to the song publishers of every song they play. When Internet radio came along, Congress required that Internet broadcaster pay the record labels. When that law went into effect, thousands of radio stations, including my favorite, KFAN, stopped simulcasting their shows because they would lose money. Internet radio is now exclusively in the hands of large companies, and the small companies are shut out.
So, if you agree with me that the RIAA is overstepping its bounds, contact your favorite radio station. Ask them to consider "A Day Without Music." If enough stations participate, music publishers will see a drop in their income, and maybe they can pressure the labels to relax a bit.
And stop buying CDs from the companies that support the RIAA.
Thank you for listening to my rant. Please continue surfing.
I just finished watching Ronald Reagan's funeral. I don't know if it's because Aunt Audrey died from Alzheimer's Disease, but this presidential funeral was more moving than the other presidential funerals.
I started watching the ABC report, but Peter Jennings said something about no one is talking about "his relationship with the black community," and that his critics have largely been silent. I switched over to Fox news, who, at least, kept quiet until the funeral was over.
What a week!
Last weekend, Mom, Dad and I went to Gun Barrel City for a Wilson Girls' reunion. Practically everyone showed up at Johnnie and William's lake house. We spent all day Saturday and most of the day Sunday there, getting sunburned and visiting.
(22) The Spring Without Sun continues into its third week. Every single day, the skies have been gray and dreary, broken only by occasional showers, and by 4 or 5 pm, the sun comes out long enough to set. During the night, the clouds come back for another round.
It wouldn't be so bad if we could get a day of sunshine once in a while. The forecast doesn't look too promising either. Maybe by the 29th we could have a day of sunshine. But the first back to back days of sunshine are in May.
Other than that, things are going well. Dad and I have been working in the garden, and we should have a pretty good crop of peppers this year. I think Dad's looking forward to a huge crop of okra. He said he's not sharing any of it this year.
(8) I got my kilt and I wore it to work today. Very comfortable.
But I have something else to say.
I would take up cycling, but apparently you have to be an asshole.
The last few weekends, cyclists have descended on Fredericksburg, and they all wanted guest houses. Today, five of them tried to check in before 2 pm. From their reactions, you would think they had never heard of a check-in time. All of them said, "But we have a 1 pm ride scheduled!" We explained that Easter, combined with wildflower time, is a busy time, and the homeowners hadn't had the time to clean after their previous guests. They sniffed in disgust and stormed out to start their bike rides. Another group arrived yesterday. Granted, they have stayed with us for the last several years, but this year, they negotiated a special rate with the homeowner for one night, and told us there would be 8 people for three nights. When they came in to pay, they told us that, no, there were four people tonight, six tomorrow and eight the next day. This required several minutes of recalculation. An hour later, the representative of the group arrived to ask us if they could check out at 1 pm or 2 pm (2-3 hours later than regular check out time). I referred them to the homeowner, and said that if she didn't mind, we didn't. Not an appropriate answer, I guess, since she sniffed and left the office.
I theorize that extensive cycling drives the spine into the part of the brain that controls polite behavior.
I explained my theory to the office. Then we had a guy who was staying at a country home who wanted us to deliver the key. He said he didn't want to come into town. I wanted to ask where the Hell he was going to eat, since there isn't a kitchen at the house, but I refrained. When he got to the office to pick up the key, he complained that since he was coming in from "that side of town" we should have delivered the key. We tried to explain that the homeowner asked us to distribute the keys, but he said that he would speak to the homeowner, because he didn't want to be bothered by it. I wanted to ask him if he brought his bicycle.
I suggested a $50 rural key delivery fee, and a $50 rural key retrieval fee, a $50 early check in fee, and a $50 late check-out fee, payable in cash, no receipt, to the others in the office. Someone said they would do it for $20, but they were roundly poo poo'ed.
The boss was in the office today and noticed that we had a larger than usual supply of assholes. But she wouldn't go so far as to authorize my fee idea.
So, if I ever tell you that I want to start cycling, remind me that they are all assholes.
I didn't get my kilt on Friday. I should have known better. Our packages always go through San Antonio before arriving here. The information on the UPS web site changed, and my kilt spent sixteen (!) hours hanging out in Austin before leaving for San Antonio. It traveled an hour and 16 minutes and arrived at 10:50 pm.
So the question for today is: will the kilt arrive on time, as UPS hopes?
All our packages go from San Antonio to Kerrville, where they are distributed for delivery. Keep your fingers crossed.
Gary came down on Saturday and we played a perfectly dismal round of golf. The sky was gray and overcast, and a chilling breeze was blowing. I decided to wear jeans. We'd just teed off when the sun came out and the temperature soared! I was miserable. I should have just worn my shorts. I won't bore you with the scores, or embarrass myself for that matter. We did have a great time, though.
