And Leave the Driving to Us

I'm fairly certain that this is illegal, however I don't recall ever noting any specific restrictions regarding getting a lube job for your crank shaft while driving on the Eisenhower Expressway in Chicago.  Too bad the cops didn't pull them over.  "Officer, I honestly thought it was legal to park my beef bus in this lap pool."

When watching this You Tube video it's hard to decided who owes more IQ points.  Is it the couple in the van or the morons attempting to capture the "magic"?

I wonder what kind of mileage they're getting?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcCH82JLEf0

Playing the Crazy Percentages

Aaron Alexis, Navy Yard killer

A crazy guy kills a bunch of people with a gun.  Sadly, this has become a regular occurrence in America today.  Almost as predictable is the cliched outrage from the media and politicians regarding gun control and our country's propensity for violence.  "America has too many guns" is the default response from most quarters as they trot out the endless parade of camera hogging senators and representatives to call, yet again, for more gun regulation.  It ain't that simple.

I'm no gun nut.  I don't hunt or target shoot but I do have a shotgun for home security.  I qualified during my couple of years of military service to fire the M-14 and M-16 rifles, a 50 caliber machine gun and the standard issue Army 45 caliber pistol.  I know what they can do and have no desire to keep any of those weapons handy.  I do understand that other people may think differently and am fine with them owning, with the exception of maybe the machine gun, those firearms.

What I am against is CRAZY people having guns.  Too many of them do and we need to stop it pronto.  Obviously background checks aren't doing the job of determining who is capable of handling a gun responsibly, so I suggest we revert to the option that kept us safe for years:  Lock the crazy bastards up!

Just do the math.  In the mid 1950's the United States had a population of approximately 150 million people; today we have more than twice that number.  If--and I think this is conservative--you believe that roughly one out of one-hundred people are capable of acts of extreme violence, then it stands to reason that many more Fort Hood and Washington Navy Yard situations will manifest themselves.

Paranoid schizophrenics and other mentally disturbed citizens need to be isolated from society for their own good and the safety of others.  Sometime in the 1970's our government decided that it was a horrible thing to confine the dangerously insane.  It was "a violation of their rights" and they should be able to move about freely in society.  Of course this idea is the very essence of insanity front and center on the national stage.  "They'll be fine as long as they take their medication" was the thinking, but for the insane to function somewhat normally in a semi-sane world  they MUST take their medication.  Most don't, and there's the rub.

In 1993 Bill Clinton's administration issued orders barring military personnel and civilian contractors from carrying personal firearms on any military installation--even officers.  The ruling specified that there needed to be "a credible and specific threat against personnel" before military members would be authorized to carry weapons for personal protection.  We all know what happened at Fort Hood and now at the Navy Yard.  Lunatics show up everywhere and, unlike the military, they have no restrictions or reservations about much of anything.  They are nuts, remember?  This policy is idiotic.

Guns?  Sure, they're bad when in the wrong hands.  Either we start locking up people who need a "check-up from the neck up", or we start letting our military and others in potentially dangerous occupations start packing.    Perhaps then there would be no need to "shelter in place".  A simple "Go ahead punk, make my day," would suffice.

Not Just HOT, This Car Is Sizzling!

I've lost track of the number of rants rolled out on in this space regarding the paucity of colors available for new cars.  When this war on fun began is anybody's guess, but it has been on going for decades.  The Henry Ford syndrome of "any color as long as it's black" has been the mantra of auto manufacturers since about 1970.  From Detroit to Berlin and Yokohama the car makers' pallet has been reduced to: black, white and silver.  No exotic colors need apply.  

"People don't want 'em," is the response from my pals in the car business.  "Bullshit," I explain.  People don't "want" fun colors if there are no fun colors available to want.  

The good news is that  bright and exciting shades are slowly becoming available once again.  The car pirates are charging more for them but the electric greens, powder blues, canary yellows and several shades of out loud REDs are being offered once again.  

Ford is positively inspirational with this year's introduction of the Bacon Wrapped Ford Fiesta.  Yes, as of August 30, bacon loving car buyers can now order the full wrap, racing strips of bacon over the hood, or a "side of bacon" over the rear wheel of their new ride.  This is inspired!  I wish I'd thought of it.  While I've been bitching about the lack of available colors some hillbilly transplant has been working miracles in Detroit.  The Fiesta's starting price is $14k and the full bacon wrap is an additional $3,347, plus installation.  A bargain in any pork lover's language.

I'm thinking that a fried egg wrap for the hood would not only complete the look but also promote the undoubtedly hot mill contained therein.

As long as we're discussing exciting the car buying public,  I wonder if a scratch n' sniff version would add some real flare?  And--if they dare--put me down for a "liver & onions Lincoln", sure to be a chick magnet extraordinaire.

In the meantime, here's a salty ride that looks good enough to eat.

"Ford Fiesta…America's carb free ride!"

Garage Sale, Not My Idea!

There she goes again.
She keeps walking by my chair with her arms full of junk from upstairs.  I'm supposed to feel guilty because tomorrow is the neighborhood garage sale and she has big plans for items I deem important. Okay, granted, at the moment I may not be using any of them, but I want them available for special projects I haven't thought of yet.

Buy our stuff!!  It's crap-o-riffic!

It's like that.  Women don't like clutter.  Men, always anticipating complicated scenerios that may manifest themselves momentarily, must maintain a high state of readiness.  Goofy hats, old magazine articles, plastic toys, broken electronic devices need to be at arm's length instantainiously.  Storage is critical to readiness and that is where garages and attics enter in.  If you are lucky enough to live in a part of the country where basements are standard equiptment, you should be ready for armagedon and/or a killer party, whichever comes first.  Stuff should be well hidden from female "search and dystroy" eyes if you are to be prepared.   Favorite old shirts, sports memoralbilia, ammo, drinking shoes, bowling trophies and other cool but completely useless rummage are fair game when the woman in charge of organizing your life goes on a garage sale safari.  Be prepared to stand your ground.

I keep hoping that the lingering hot spell we've been having will cool the ardor of the gals--and it is ALL women--who have insisted on holding this massive purge of collected family detritis.  No guys, for reasons previously stated,  have an interest in waking early on Saturday just to watch strangers paw through treasures they'd planned on keeping.  "That bike will be good as new with a couple of new tires, a seat, handlebars, and a chain."  Women don't get it!

Right now I'm thinking of making book on how many ice cream freezers will be on display at this thing.  Has anybody ever made ice cream more than twice with one?   Though they are perfect for storing old tennis balls and cigar butts, they remain a garage sale staple, right up there with old lamps and  broken weed wackers.

Books never seem to do well at garage sales.  I don't know if typical patrons are mostly illiterate or find that it isn't nearly enough "fun" to grind you down from ten cents apiece to a nickle.  I am fairly certain that my Sunday will be spent hauling printed matter back upstairs.  (The joke is on her.  I didn't want to get rid of them anyway.)

A prize too awesome to give up.  What if Elvis calls?

If you can believe it, there are at least two cherished collectibles that will be headed home with strangers when this is over.  My classic Elvis phone which plays "Jailhouse Rock" instead of ringing  and the always hard to find Bozo phone are on the block.  The former was a Christmas gift from my youngest daughter in recognition of all of the King's hits I spun on the radio.  A damn fine gift until you realize you're really not up for hearing "Jailhouse Rock" thirty times a day.  In fairness, it did look good disconnected.

His nose lights up when it rings.

The Bozo phone is another story.  For years I longed to own a phone featuring a nose that lit up every time it rang.  The problem was this hideous blower didn't ring--it laughed maniacally.  The first time I heard it my sphincter ate my underpants.  It is satan's telephone and too scary by half.  No one should have one of these; so I'll be careful to sell it to a completely charmless S.O.B..

So there you have a sneak preview of some of the exclusive bargains on sale tomorrow in my garage.  Come early as we anticipate massive crowds.  Doors open at 7AM.  Fun goes on for a good two or three minutes.

How can I possibly part with something a neat as this??