Boy am I Full of...ummm...Holiday Cheer! Yea, That's it.

Happy RamaHanuKwansMas everybody! If you've been reading Carlene's blog as of late (I know you haven't been reading mine, so don't bother pretending), you may know a little bit about why my Christmas spirit is flagging this year. I honestly cannot say why that is, but I sure haven't been feeling festive about this year's festivities.

In the first week of December Carlene and I were debating about whether or not we were going to put up our plastic Christmas tree this year. We debated until it was pretty much too late to do anything about it. Sure, everybody needs a Christmas tree, but maybe we didn't want to put out all the effort it was going to take to put it up. On our first Christmas together we found out I am allergic to whatever kind of tree it was we got that year. Because of that, and the fact that we don't really have any type of Christmas tree transporting vehicle, we decided to throw some money at Home Depot and procure for ourselves a real fake synthetic artificial almost lifelike Christmas tree. Actually, once it's up it looks really nice. It's the getting it up that made us decide not to do it this time.

The first time we put it up, it probably took us between 3 and 5 hours to assemble it. That does not include decorating the darn thing, either. Even with practice, assembling and decorating it is a weekend-long affair. Since our holiday goodwill was significantly withered by mid-December, it didn't take us long to decide that we didn't want to go through all the trouble, only to have to undo the mess in two weeks. So this year we are treeless. And I think we are fine with it so far (I am at least. You'll have to ask Carlene).

Not long after we decided that this year would be a fir-free Christmas, I made a joke about putting up a Festivus Pole. In case you don't remember Festivus, watch this video, which explains the origins and purpose of the "Festivus for the Rest of Us." For ideas on how to celebrate Festivus, or to order a Pole of your own, click here. If we went with a Festivus Pole, instead of an entire weekend of assembling, decorating, and mentally swearing like a wounded pirate we could have our pole up and ready to rock in less time than it takes to curse the person who translated our tree assembly directions from Swahili. I'm sold!

Needless to say, the Festivus Pole never got any traction at our house. How well would it do at yours? Vote in my poll (not pole) to tell me. I'll save the grievances for another post.

Carob Chips. Really?

Thanks everyone for taking my poll. I am heartened to see that so many of you either own guns, or hope to in the (very near?) future. For those who are planning to, I would love to help any way I can when the time comes to buy one. I was surprised to see that only one person does not plan to buy one, but I think I know who that is, and I'm not too shocked. And that's okay.

Anyway, I had some blog post ideas I've been mulling over for some time, but which I never had time to sit down and hammer out. Now that I've got a few minutes, I can't think of what they were. And I'm tired of writing boring, depressing, and otherwise frightening political stuff, and I figure many of you wouldn't want to read it right now anyway. I wish I had something funny to write about, but that well is dry right now. So I'll write about my Dad.

Let me begin by saying that if anyone has anything bad to say about my Dad, don't say it to me (same goes for my Mom, by the way). Every boy needs to respect and admire his Dad (and Mom). I think it's hard to be a mentally healthy person without that. I'm sure it's possible, but I'd rather not try.

I hope my Dad would be glad to know that I respect and admire him. We've had some tough times, especially while we both worked at the gun shop, but fortunately, I don't remember any of those times. I've been reminded of them, but really, I'm very happy that my memory has chosen not to hold on to those things.

My Dad has always been my hero. I always loved hearing his Army stories (82nd Airborne Division), especially his nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat adventure at Bango Bango. Wow! It's the stuff of which legends are made. The thing I loved most of all was his having been on the All Army Pistol Team. Each branch of the military, and each division of each branch, has its own pistol team to represent it. Dad was on the team that represented the entire Army, meaning he was one of the best in the Army. I've always wanted to be like that. Unfortunately, as much as I love guns, I've never been much of a marksman, especially with a pistol.

It was because of my handgun accuracy related shortcomings that I decided to buy an M1A rifle, which I had hoped to use to shoot Highpower Rifle with. That is a shooting discipline that requires you to shoot at targets from 200 to 600 yards away, standing (offhand), sitting or kneeling, and laying down (prone). Well, the fact that I no longer own what was once my dream gun will attest to the fact that I was not destined for greatness.

Now I've wandered into a path I never thought I would tread. A little over a year ago Carlene and I went to the range to go shooting. We met a fellow there with a target pistol who asked if I wanted to shoot it. I demurred, knowing I was a lousy shot with a handgun. But eventually I gave in to his repeated proddings, mostly because I felt my manhood was threatened by turning him down. Well, I did far better than I had expected to, and apparently well enough to impress this guy, who said I should join the club pistol team. I shouldn't have to tell you how that made me feel. Since that day I've been yearning for a target pistol of my own. About 2 months ago Carlene let my buy one (because I worked my rear off doing overtime to pay for it). It's a Ruger MkIII Target, and boy is it fun.

I've been to the range with it a few time, but with no noticeable improvement of my meager shooting skills. That's when I asked Dad (remember him? That's who I started writing this blog about) to impart to me a portion of his knowledge. That was a wise decision.

Dad and I really don't get to spend much time together, which I regret. I don't have any guy friends except for Nathan and Dad, so I don't get to do a much with other guys. It was really nice to be able to go to the range and have him teach me what he learned all those years ago. I don't really know how to put it into words, but having him there with me, coaching me and encouraging me, made me feel like the most important person on the planet. I've always revered Dad for being on the All Army Pistol Team, and here he was, showing me how to do the things that made him great. I can't really tell you what that means to me.

But I can tell you what it meant to my target. Turns out I'm not half bad (unless Dad was just humoring me). Just a couple hours of coaching shrunk my groups by an enormous amount. I may have a future in this after all. And few things could make me as proud as I would be if Dad could coach me through an official match, cheering me on to victory. Or just sitting in Carl's Jr., eating a burger, telling me I'd done a good job in practice. Thanks Dad. You've done more for me than I'm sure you realize.

And carob chips? No, not really. Obviously those had nothing to do with anything. Duh.

Please Stop By for a Visit

My apologies for not writing sooner, but, well... I don't have an excuse. Sorry. But please take my new poll anyway. I'm curious to know some things about my friends and family, and whoever else may stumble upon this. Depending on the results of this poll, I may have some followup ones, so stay tuned. I'll also try working on another post this coming week. I hope you haven't given up on me.

The Gift of Fear

About three months ago (August 10th, to be exact) I said I would make a list of books everyone should read, and then write something about them, and why I think they should be read by all. In those three months, I have discussed exactly one book. Tonight I will increase that number by an incredible 100%! And today's topic is The Gift of Fear, by Gavin De Becker. It's the story of one young woman's lighthearted romp through pastoral England in search of her... no, perhaps I'm thinking of something else.

The Gift of Fear is a book I had long wanted to read, but simply never got around to buying. Since the library didn't have it, I just kept putting off buying it. Because it costs money. And I'm cheap. I was fortunate enough that Nathan came to visit, and he again recommended the book to me. As a police officer, I have tremendous respect for his opinion on this, and many other matters. But I didn't even have to go out and buy my own copy. Nathan surprised me with one. I am very grateful to him for my copy, and I will gladly lend it out if you would like to read it.

I am actually not sure what Mr. De Becker's job title is, but I think "Threat Analyzer" would fit quite nicely. His job, and the purpose of the company he runs, is to analyze threats to citizens, some of them famous. This book is a compilation of the processes he uses to analyze, verify, and react to threats received by his clients. Most importantly (to me and you), he teaches the reader how to recognize threats in situations where there is no obvious threat.

The first five or so chapters contain the information that you and I would use to keep ourselves safe on the streets. I cannot recommend reading that portion highly enough. Most of the rest of the book details much more specific scenarios, i.e. dealing with verbal threats, violent employees, and even remarkably violent children. I think that the vast majority of us will never need to know how to fire a potentially violent employee, but his constant use of examples makes it interesting to read. But focus on the first five chapters, because they contain the information that will help keep you safe.

Since you are now certainly wondering what those five chapters contain, I will give you a brief synopsis. Our brains are unfathomably complicated computers. Every waking moment, they are gathering, sorting, processing, and storing enormous amounts of information. However, our brains learn early on that the vast majority of the information it picks up from the world around it is not important, so it discards what it doesn't think needs attention.

Out of the corner of your eye you may see a car pass you as you walk down the street. Without you even being aware of it, your brain has taken note of it, it's direction of travel, speed, maybe even color and style. But since your brain also realizes that the car isn't moving directly toward you, it poses no threat. Thus, all the data your brain has compiled on the passing car is sent to your mental recycle bin. All that work took mere seconds, and it took no effort on your part to make it happen; it was completely automatic.

If, however, the car was moving in your direction, your brain would tell you that there was an approaching threat, and all the subconscious action your brain was taking would suddenly become conscious. Your instincts take over, and you dive out of the path of the car and into a panhandler, who sues you for millions.

That's the mechanism, and it's nothing you really have to think about. Your brain gathers information from everything around you, and when it finds something that needs your attention, it sounds the alarm and you take conscious action. Here's where human nature now takes over. The alarm often manifests itself as a "gut feeling." Oftentimes, when we hear the mental alarm going off, we tell ourselves, "Stupid brain! There's nothing wrong here. I'll just turn off the alarm and get back to sticking Cheetos in my nostrils." That is what gets us into trouble. It is easy to convince ourselves that it was a false alarm, because we've been practicing it all our lives. Then, when the alarm bells start banging away to warn us about something really and truly dangerous, we talk ourselves into believing that it is nothing to worry about.

However, the book is not about approaching cars, but about crime. Mr. De Becker teaches us, the readers, how to recognize those warning signals. Using fascinating examples, he illustrates how your brain picks up warning signals that are virtually meaningless by themselves. But since your brain has compiled reams of data, it can accurately analyze those warning signals and tell you when danger is imminent. He gives some very dangerous warning signals to watch for and emphasizes that when the alarm sounds, you do not ignore it. Always go with your gut, because it knows more about the situation that it's letting on.

Now comes my one gripe with this book, and I think it's a big, vitally important one. Appendix Three is entitled "Gun Safety," and he discusses how dangerous guns are, and how many people are hurt or killed in the U.S. by guns. He then recommends unbelievably strict, and oftentimes punitive measures for controlling the use of guns. His position is understandable, and earlier in the book he hints at where his philosophy comes from. But I must say that his stance is unquestionably, fantastically, even boneheadedly wrong. It is largely a position steeped in emotion and narrowmindedness. He takes pains to point out the number of people killed and injured each year by guns, but fails to mention how many lives are saved, and crimes prevented, by the lawful use of guns. An estimated 2.5 million crimes never happen because someone used a gun to protect himself (or herself). Two and one half million people went unrobbed, unraped, unassaulted, unmurdered, because they had the tools with which to stop an attack. That is something that nothing besides a gun could have accomplished, and by recommending that there be no guns in the home, or that they are rendered useless while in the home, Mr. De Becker is recommending that the reader remove his sole line of defense and open himself to whatever depravity an attacker wishes to inflict. I find this line of reasoning from one whose job is threat control to be perfectly astounding. Remove your means of self-protection, and replace it with... well, who knows, because he doesn't say. To teach a person how to recognize threats, but then take away the one tool he may require to deal with the threat is dangerous, nonsensical, and it imperils those he is trying to protect. Please skip his empty-headed diatribe on the subject.

So there you have it! If you are family, you are free to borrow my copy, so long as you follow some simple book-borrowing rules (See "Brandon's Big Book of Book Borrowing, Section 27.1.02, Subsection 14, Paragraphs 3 through 44). If you only read one book off my list, please make it this one. It's for your own good.

Mystical Predictions

Because I honestly don't know who reads this blog, I hesitate to post this. I really don't want to offend anyone (though taking offense seems to have become the new national pastime), and I figure that since not everyone who reads it will agree with me, I am sure that someone will take offense at what I have to say. That is not my intention, and that is largely why I have tried, with one or two exceptions, to steer clear of politics. But I wanted to post this in the hopes that, if these things do come to pass, I will be lauded as a brilliant visionary, and I will receive lots of money.

Let me preface my few predictions by qualifying them. I think that these things will happen only if two conditions are met. First, Barack Obama (B.O. for short) must win the presidential election next week. Second, the Democrat Party must gain enough seats in Congress to be filibuster proof. I make no predictions about the likelihood of those things happening; I'm only saying what I think will happen if those two things are accomplished. Feel free to start sending me money in anticipation of my being correct.

So here I go with my predictions:

• The decade preceding WWII will become known as "The First Depression."
• Congress will pass laws restricting the exercise of free speech. So-called "Hate Speech" will be a punishable criminal offense. The government will begin to regulate what the press can tell the public, saying that it is for the good of the public.
• The government will begin confiscating privately (and perfectly legally) owned firearms. They will begin with semi-automatic handguns and so-called "assault rifles" ("Assault rifle" is a meaningless political buzzword used to intimidate the general public, but which essentially refers to any rifle that is even vaguely military-like. These "assault rifles" are no more dangerous, lethal, or otherwise bad for people to own than non-military-style firearms; they just look different. It's all about cosmetics). They will first tell people that they are only taking "a few dangerous guns," and leaving the rest. They will shortly come for the rest. The rate of violent crime will climb dramatically.
• There will be a terrorist attack on U.S. soil, and in response, President B.O. will appeal to the U.N. In order to assist the United States in defending itself, and further the cause of justice globally, the U.N. will pass a resolution.

I realize that I have not offered any supporting evidence for my prognostications, and though I think it would be nice, it is after 9:00 pm, and I would like to play a game or get some knitting done or something, so I don't really have the time to do it right now. Maybe in another blog. But by the time I get around to it, it may be too late, so maybe not. Anyhoo...

There are two more predictions I would like to make, the first of which some of you may have heard about. Look it up. These two I am separating from the list of others, since I have less faith that they will occur, but I include them because I have, I don't know... a feeling? I can't explain it; I just think they might be right.

• It will be proved that President B.O. is not a natural born citizen, as required by the constitution for him to be President.

My final prediction is strictly a gut feeling, and I have absolutely zero evidence to back it up. If it's wrong, well, send less money. This has been attempted in the past (most notably by F.D.R.), and with B.O. in charge, I almost expect it will be tried again.

• Two additional justices will be appointed to the Supreme Court, giving it 11 justices total, and handing the liberal wing of the Court an almost insurmountable advantage.

So there you have it. If you don't agree with me, that's fine. If you love Obama, that's fine too, though I cannot understand why. Just please don't try to convince me that he is the greatest thing since chili-cheese Fritos. Now start sending me money, because I'll have to have lots of it to bail myself out of jail after being arrested for hate speech.

Our Recent Ramblings

In case any of you have failed to read Carlene's blog recently, I'll just inform you that we spent a long weekend at the beach. Since Carlene covers all the big important stuff, I'll let you read her account of it. I'll also put up a couple more photos for you to admire.



Aren't they lovely? The common element among many of my beach photos is seagulls. I'm not sure why I like taking pictures of seagulls so much, but I really get a kick out of it. Perhaps it is that they add some life and character to a photo that would otherwise be filled with sand, rocks, and water. Those are nice enough, but I really dig the seagulls.

There's the view from our hotel room. Not too shabby!

Anyway, enough about that. Carlene mentioned that we went to the yarn shop (twice, actually) to get some supplies for new projects. I thought of something I wanted to make, so I picked up some nice wool yarn. I would have loved some of the alpaca/silk yarn they had, but the wool was plenty expensive enough! I don't need to knit myself a $100 scarf. And a scarf is what I'm making. I've been knitting dishcloths for a couple years now, and I got pretty tired of it, so I'm trying something new. Except that it isn't. I'm essentially using the dishcloth pattern and stretching it to the length I want. Sounds silly, but it looks nice so far. I'd put a photo of it up, but I don't have one yet.

In case you didn't know that I knit, well... I knit. Before I changed departments at work, I was downstairs in the machine shop running huge multimillion dollar milling machines, making parts that cost more than I could ever afford to buy. It was a very stressful job, and it started to take its toll. What was left of my hairs started fleeing like rats from a sinking ship, and I felt sick a lot. So I asked Mom to teach me how to knit, and I used it as a way to relax. I didn't knit at work, since it's a machine shop, and I do have some pride. I was afraid the other boys would beat me up and take my lunch money. Since then, Carlene and I have been making dishcloths together, many of which we have given away as gifts. They are the best dishcloths money can't buy. But now it's on to something slightly different.

Knitting with Carlene has really been relaxing and pleasant (doing anything with Carlene is generally pleasant), and it's been a great way to spend time together, relaxing. Pleasantly. Since relaxation was our goal for our beach trip, it is also a good way to bring some of those feelings home. So if you need to relax some, try some knitting. Come on, all the cool kids are doing it!

So Much Has Changed!

Hello again everyone! These last couple weeks have been really crazy for me, and I thought you all might be interested to know what has been going on.

About 5 weeks ago, I was called to be an Assistant Den Leader for our ward's Cub Scout pack. I was pretty apprehensive, since I was a terrible Boy Scout, and I don't think I know how to deal with kids very well. But I accepted anyway, because it seemed like something I should be doing. About 3 weeks later, on a Saturday, I finally got around to buying my scout uniform shirt, which cost over $60. For a shirt. The very next day, we had a stake meeting to discuss the moving of some of the ward boundaries. You guessed it; Carlene and I were moved from the Hillsboro Ward to the Brookwood Ward. We had only spent 6 months in our old ward, and then this. So Carlene called up the shirt shop on Monday to ask them not to sew the patches on yet, because I needed to return it. Luckily, they were very nice and understanding. If any of you need a scout shirt, I will happily recommend a place for you. Those were three of the big changes recently; first my calling, then our ward change, then me loosing my calling. What a ride.

The Boeing Machinist's Union is on strike, which has put a big dent in our production at work. A lot of jobs that we have in process have been put on hold, and work has slowed almost to a trickle. I am actually kind of glad for it, though, since I have been working overtime almost non-stop for about 6 months. It is really nice to be able to stay up past 8:30 and do some fun stuff with Carlene after work. Yea, it means less money, but right now that is okay.

I'm still getting over the sinus infection that kept me in bed last week. I lost two days of work which really stinks because I don't have much vacation time to spare, and that used up most of it. Carlene often has to pester, and sometimes bribe, me to stay in bed and get some rest when I'm sick. Not this time. I spent two solid days in bed because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. I'm still a little under the weather, but not feeling great yet.

Two weeks ago I got my Technician class Amateur Radio License. That's a Ham radio license, in case you were wondering. My call sign is KE7WGJ. I have a little 5 watt handheld radio, and tonight was my first time transmitting on it. Our stake has a Thursday night radio net (kind of an on-air meeting of radio operators), and I took my first baby steps into Ham radio. It was pretty exciting. So exciting that I almost forgot my call sign. Luckily, I had sort of anticipated that, and I had it written down in front of me to refer to. I really got a kick out of it, which is really strange if you know me. I'm not really a people person, and I really hate talking on the phone, so it surprises even me that I would enjoy talking to people on the radio. If you scan through the frequencies, you can find some pretty entertaining conversations. I heard some Multnomah County police officers talking about looking for a suspect in a park, and I've heard some random stations discussing the finer points of toilet design. Anyway, Ham radio is something I would like to get into a little more deeply, and I would like some practice. So if you also have a license and a radio, give me a call.

There was something else, too, but now I can't remember. Oh yea, I turned 30. That's it. When I was a kid, 30 was ancient, and I never thought I would be that old. Yet here I am, 30, mostly bald, graying, and all grown up. Wow. When kids are young, they want to be things. They want to be an astronaut, or a baseball player or a computational fluid dynamics engineer. I don't know if they realize that eventually they will have to do things. Go to work, fix the leaky toilet, mow the grass, go grocery shopping, go to work some more and try not to complain about it too much when they get home. Actually, it is probably a very good thing that kids don't think about that kind of thing. Most of them would probably run away to join the circus.

So I guess that is about it. There may have been more, but my aged mind is now too old and enfeebled to remember much else. Though things may have changed, I am glad that some things are just the way I like them; my terrific family, my nice house, and, above all, my beautiful wife, who gives me hugs when I get home from work and tucks me in bed when I'm sick. I can't name anything more important to me than that, and I hope it never changes.

We are Gathered Here to Honor the Memory...

No, I am not dead. I just had a chance to look at my blog, and it's been over a month since my last stab at it. Shame on me. So, in case you've been wondering when my funeral is, I'm just going to write a little something to let you know that it is still some way off.

I have been a busy, busy beaver lately. Work is running me ragged, and I've had almost no spare time to sit down and make some blogging time. The little free time I've had has been largely devoted to getting ready for work, sleeping in preparation for more work, and traveling to and from work. Any time that does not fall into those categories is devoted to pampering Carlene. The task list I fixed up for myself is as long today as it was two months ago when I fixed up. My email inbox runneth over. My family and friends have been neglected. For shame, again. Oh yea, and I've got a new calling as Assistant Den Leader. Do I still think our bishopric is inspired?

But I'm sure none of you enjoy hearing other people complain about how busy and tired and overworked they are, so I'll stop now. I'm sorry if I haven't spent more time talking or visiting with you lately, whoever you are. With all the big projects coming up at work, I've still got several months of overtime ahead of me, so time will be at a premium, but I'll try to keep in touch a little better. Maybe I can have Carlene remind me to sit down and do a little blogging now and again. My blog site is in dire need of updating, and I'll try to get it done over the next week or two. Every day I think of something I would like to add to my blog, but I just keep getting farther and farther behind. (There I go whining again)

Anyway, if you don't hear from me soon, shoot me an email. And speaking of shooting, check out Carlene's blog. Now that makes a husband proud! So until next time, happy huntin', and stop calling Carlene to ask if you can have my motorcycle!

Animal Farm

As I promised in my last post, I will give you a little bit of info about the books I recommend. Since I don't want to spend all night on the computer, I'll start by covering the books I already have on my blog, then slowly expand. I may as well start with the first book on my list, and I promise I'll keep it short.

Animal Farm, by George Orwell, is best described as a political allegory, though for years it has been read as a fairy tale about animals taking control of their farm from their human masters. Superficially, that is what it is. It doesn't take much imagination to make the connection between the actions of the farm animals and the politics of Orwell's day. During Orwell's lifetime, communism was a plague that was sweeping across the globe, virtually unstoppable. The animals of Animal Farm - which is the name they chose for their human-free farm - play out the inner conflicts of the burgeoning Soviet empire. It lays out the revolution born of misguided idealism, the power struggle between the leaders who once fought together, and the downward spiral into show trials, executions, and corruption.

"But it's a story about pigs and goats and ducks, and sort of about the Soviet Union. Big deal." Well, it is, because it is no longer about the Soviet Union. The story of the Animal Farm is being played out today in the United States. While we may not mirror every detail from the book, and by inference the Soviet Union, the plot line continues to parallel our own political state ever more closely.

So, I would recommend Animal Farm for a couple reasons; first, it is wonderfully written. It tells the story of the beginnings of one of the most powerful nations on the planet, and one which we struggle to deal with to this day. And it tells us where our nation may be headed if we are not supremely diligent. You don't have to be a politics junkie to read it, either. It is one of the most enjoyable political reads you will find. That, and it has talking pigs.

My Inflated Sense of Self-Importance

Honestly, I don't think I'm a dummy, though some would debate that. I've done a lot of reading on a lot of topics. Some of what I've read has changed the way I think and feel. Much of it has changed the way I see the world. With few exceptions, all of it has been valuable. So, on my blog page, I've added a list of books I've read that I think are important enough that others should read them, too. Of course, it is nowhere near complete right now, but I'll try augmenting it as often as I can. I will also try to mention a little something about the books I put on the list, so you have some idea of why I think you should read it. Doubtless, some of you have books you think I should read, and I would be happy to hear your suggestions. Maybe I'll put it on my list. All this might sound big-headed of me, but I would like to share the wisdom in these books with as many people as I can.

Along with that comes the quote. You'll please notice the title of my quote section. I'll wait while you check... Many of the books I've read have wonderful snippets of wisdom, humor, or insight, and I've recorded them for myself over the last several years. My collection of quotes covers about 75 pages, though I do not know the exact number of quotes it contains. I realized that as great as some of them are, the don't do anyone any good sitting in a binder, not being read. So I will use this forum to share with you the terrific quotes that I have collected over the years. Now back to the title; it is not "Quote of the Day" or week, for a reason. I don't blog nearly often enough, and there is little chance that I will be able to update that so regularly. So I'll just do it as often as I can. It's the best I can do right now.

So there you have it! I hope that the books and quotes that I will try to share with you enlighten you as much as they have me.

Nathan

Oh yes, I know I said I would do this on Saturday, but you know how it is. I think Congress needs to come back from their vacation and address the fact that there are fewer hours on Saturday than any other day of the week. I know, they have been so swamped with matters vital to our nation, like steroid-using baseball players, and appologizing for slavery, but it's time they fixed this travesty.

Anyway, I was going to do more than vent on this one. As most of you know, Nathan (for those of you who don't know, that's my cousin) and his awsome family came from Arizona to visit all of us here in Oregon. Nathan and I grew up together, and he was my best friend, but after we moved up here, I sort of lost contact with him. So I was really excited when he told me that he was going to come for a visit.

I'm really grateful to his wife, Anna, who let me have Nathan for a whole day. We went shooting for a few hours, and then came back here to goof around on our Wii. I wish I had more friends like him. Well, really, I wish he lived closer. I don't know that I ever told him that he was kind of my hero when we were growing up. When I was a kid, I was painfully shy, and very unpopular, but Nathan was always my pal, and he always looked out for me. I always wanted to be like him. It was nice to see that he hasn't changed at all. He's still the studly guy I've always loved.

I am really hoping that he can come visit again in the future, or that I can go down to visit them in Arizona. Unfortunately, I don't get all that much vacation time, and most of it gets used when I'm sick, so it may be a while before I get out there. But at least for now, we've got email and phones.

Shelf Photo

Just because Memory asked, I'm posting a picture of the shelves I put in our garage when we first moved in. Boy, that seems like so long ago now. Our house was nice before the shelves went up, but now it's a castle. I hope to put up more shelves around the house and garage over the next couple years. But I won't put up pictures of them unless you really want me to.

Yea, yea...

Okay, I know! It's been a long time since my last post. Sorry, but I've been really busy. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I'm hoping to get a little blogging done then. So, in the mean time, take my little poll and sit tight. I can't guarantee that what comes will be worth the wait, but at least it will be something.

For the Love of Guns!

As some of you may know, the Supreme Court recently ruled that the Constitution guarantees the right of citizens to keep guns in their homes for self defense. Why we needed the Supreme Court to tell us what the vast majority of people in the U.S. already know is beyond me. It says right there in the Constitution that the right of the citizens (that’s you and me) to “keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” In typical governmental fashion, that has been interpreted by our fearless leaders to mean that the rights of the citizens (remember, that’s dumb folk like you and I) to keep and bear arms can, in fact, be infringed upon. Fortunately, the majority of the Supreme Court seems to have read the Constitution and decided that it means what it says. For now at least.

This brings us, via meandering logic, to my current point. We have been counseled for years that we should have a year’s supply of food for emergencies. Until Carlene and I moved into the house, we didn’t really have much room for extra anything, let alone hundreds of pounds of food. Now that we’ve got our house, we have been able to start making plans and getting ready for emergencies.

I’ve heard many people say that they have been grateful for their year’s supply of food, because they had to use it when someone lost their job or something like that. I may be a pessimist, but when I think of emergency preparedness, I am thinking of worst-case scenarios. And that is why I own guns. I’ve thought about it a lot, and even though some of you may take exception to this, I honestly do not think that you can truly be prepared for emergencies without a gun.

When Hurricane Katrina rolled through Louisiana and decimated all semblance of law and order, there was nobody to protect those citizens who had stayed behind. Many of the police disappeared, and many of those that remained would not, or could not, protect the innocent. Carjacking, looting, and other heinous crimes were committed in the absence of the police. In one case (and I hope it was the only one), an entire family was raped, tortured, and murdered in their own home by a gang of law-breakers.

Being prepared for emergencies means being prepared for anything. Yes, you may have a year’s supply of food, and you may never need it. You may only eat your stored food in order to rotate it. Or you may have to depend on it to save your life some day. Thus it is with a gun. And don’t tell me that it will never happen here. I’m sure those in Louisiana said the same thing. Everyone says it; it can never happen here. And then it does. When it does, I hope you are prepared for the worst-case, because that could happen here, too.

So that’s my advice; buy a gun. Then become proficient with it. Make sure everyone in your house who is old enough can use it. I’ve taken Carlene shooting, and she is actually a pretty good shot. Read her blog about it. And then do what she did. Because I’ve got my guns ready, and if the worst-case scenario ever happens, you cannot borrow mine.

I Like Making Stuff

First off, in case you haven't noticed, I have no intention of making daily posts. I've got way too much to do to devote time every day to blogging. If you do, that's fantastic. I wish I had time to read yours.

Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest... I was thinking today about how much I like making things. It doesn't really matter what it is. Several years ago it was Pinewood Derby cars. Now I've got a bookshelf where I can proudly display my beautiful, if slightly dusty, cars. I also made the aluminum stands on which the cars are displayed. When we moved into the house, I put up shelves in the garage. Maybe I'll put those photos on another post.

My latest handmade creation is a brass catcher. For those of you not into shooting guns, feel free to change the channel right now. My M1A throws empty brass all over the place, and I was tired of picking it up off the ground. At first I was going to buy a catcher, but the one I wanted runs about $60. "Really? Sixty bucks?" is what I thought to myself. After just a little thought, I realized, "I'll bet I can slap something together for WAY cheaper than that." Turns out I'm right, which has been known to happen occasionally.

Ace Hardware (my second or third favoritest place on the planet) had the aluminum tubing for about $12. I took it to work and used the tools there to bend it to shape, which cost me nothing. The netting cost me $.99 per yard, and I got two, though there is perhaps $.30 worth of netting on the actual catcher. The cord I stitched it together with cost about $1.50. I got the whole thing done for less than $16, saving me almost $45.

"Yea, but how does it work?" I hear you asking yourself with thinly veiled sarcasm. "Quite well," I respond with curt politeness. Just put it on the bench where you think your brass will fly, drop a sandbag - of which there are always plenty - on the U-shaped protrusion on the catcher's rear, and fire away! All the empties end up in a nice little pile on the bench top, and there is no more fumbling for mud-covered brass while everyone else at the range waits for you to finish up so they can get back to shooting. It's nowhere near as fancy as the store-bought model, but I'm not a fancy guy, and I don't need a fancy brass catcher. I need entertaining operas and functional brass catchers.

This probably all relates to why I like my job. There is something intensely satisfying about making things with my own hands. Saving money is just a bonus. As much as I would sometimes like a desk job, I don't think I would get nearly as much satisfaction from that. It is so rewarding to create something that has never existed before I put it together. So here's my advice: See something you like? Try making it yourself. Sure, making that new sofa you want just may be beyond your abilities, but there must be something you could use that you can make yourself. Try it! I guarantee* you will enjoy the process and you will have a greater appreciation for something you've made compared to if you had bought from he store.

*No refunds or exchanges will be given if not completely satisfied. This guarantee is not legally binding.

Election Day...or Something

This is history in the making! As many of you already know, yesterday was Election Day here in Oregon. After endless months of inane commercials and mind-numbing television coverage, the votes are finally in and counted. I suppose the results were a foregone conclusion; what with everyone talking about voting for change, for shaking up the establishment. It’s probably no wonder that things went they way they did. Yep, after millions and millions of votes, Kristi Yamaguchi won Dancing with the Stars.

Okay, seriously, I cannot help but wonder if this last season of Dancing with the Stars is more interesting and important to the future of the nation than the current political pig-wrestling contest. When our choices are limited to Left, Lefter, and Leftest, I feel as though it hardly matters whose chad I dimple this November.

So where have all the conservatives gone? I’m still here, dying for some representation. Why is it that the politicians are worried about disenfranchising every voter but me? Call me crazy, but I doubt I’m the only one feeling this way. Hosts of conservatives are crying out for someone to stand up and fight for what we believe in. But wait, didn’t Mitt Romney do just that? He did, and we told him to take a flying leap. And now we are left with Mr. McCain, a man who had his conservative gland surgically removed two decades ago. Now conservatives complain that McCain isn’t conservative enough. Well, why should he be? We’ve known for years that he was a playmate of the Democrats, wrapped in the now-faded shroud of Reaganism. Arizona has had opportunities aplenty to rid themselves of his pseudo-conservatism, and passed on every chance. (Lefties often use the term “Neo-con” to denigrate conservatives, though none seem to know what the phrase means. I’m happy to have coined the, I hope, soon to be famous moniker “Pseudo-con”. It fits McCain better than anything else I’ve heard.) We’ve shown that we won’t support an actual Reaganite, so in my opinion, we have brought this pestilent curse upon ourselves and when the political locusts devour our crop of national prosperity, we will only have ourselves to blame for shooing away the seagulls of conservatism.

Now that you know how I feel about our presumptive nominee, let me get one more thing off my chest. Just because I belong to the Republican Party (for now, at least), and just because I abhor the thought of a Clinton or Obama presidency, I am not duty-bound to vote for McCain! I am obligated to vote for the person who represents my values, my goals, my morals. I would much rather people thought that I sold out the Republican Party by not voting for McCain than feel that I had sold out everything I hold precious for the sake of a political party that now seems to mock those very principles. If I am told by one more person that it is my responsibility as a Republican to vote for John McCain, then the time will have come for the Republican Party and me to go our separate ways. “Republican Party,” I will say in a kind but firm voice, “we’ve been through a lot together, and had some good times. But I’m not happy anymore. You aren’t the Party I joined ten years ago, and it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. I want a divorce. But you can keep the furniture.”

Although we have several months before the national elections roll around and make us wish those darned Greeks had given up on democracy altogether, I have little hope for what’s in store for our nation. In four years, I expect our once magnificent country will little resemble its current condition. We may all be speaking Spanish. Or Chinese. Or the good ole’ U.S. of A. may have been reduced to a smoking crater. Whatever happens, don’t blame me; I voted for Kristi Yamaguchi.

This was supposed to be about our garage shelves!

Carlene is actually the person that got me motivated to start a blog, and I’ve had to turn to her for ideas on what to put in it. I’m sure it will show through in what I write. Today, for instance. As most of you already know, we bought our first house in March. It has essentially become the only thing we think about. So I guess it’s only natural that I say a little bit about it.

I was pretty worried about getting a house, because I never thought that we would be able to afford one. Luckily, I married someone much wiser than myself, and she realized that it was not only likely, but that we would be silly not to. And besides that, we were fed up with apartment living. So we found a house, and everything worked out perfectly.

The strange thing was, to me, it didn’t really feel like our house at first. I’m sure everyone who has gone through the home buying process is smiling and nodding their heads. My brain told me that it was ours, and I even had (still have, actually) an extensive list of home improvement projects I would like to do, but it really felt like we were only visiting. One of the things on my list was to put an American flag up on our front porch. Carlene and I didn’t see eye to eye on that originally, but after I put it up, I think she changed her mind (I hope). It wasn’t until I got the flag up and flying that it finally stopped feeling like we were staying in a fancy hotel and more like we were supposed to be here.

Now the one thing that is consuming all of my feeble mental powers is how to keep the neighborhood cats from using our front yard bark dust as a latrine. I’m sure that everyone I know is tired of me discussing this ad nauseum. I first tried a cat repellant recipe from a book I got at the library. It consisted of water, crushed garlic, cayenne pepper, and liquid dish soap. Sounds stinky and passably logical. Especially the former. But be ye warned! If someone tells you to put those ingredients in a blender and puree the life out of them, he either has some sort of mental defect, or he has a sick, olfactory-driven sense of humor. The resulting foamy, reeking catastrophe will have you wishing that the author of said recipe was near at hand, and not for pleasant conversation, either.

Anyway, eventually the repelling repellant finally made it onto our bark dust, making our front yard stink like the losing entry to a Texas chili cook-off. Well, maybe cats are fond of badly made chili, because within the hour they were pawing around in our bark dust, and the next morning it had already been pooped in. I’m now trying straight, non-foaming cayenne pepper. If this doesn’t work, I’ve got a lot more ideas, many of them disturbingly unkind.

Let the Blogging Begin!

I wanted to come up with something witty and memorable to put in my first blogging attempt, but I've been sick (again), and my brain is not currently up to the task of generating mermorable wittiness.

When once I was asked to mention something interesting about myself, I responded that I was the most boring person I know. That got some chuckles, but I feel that really sums me up quite nicely. A lot of people have fascinating jobs or hobbies. Me? Not so much. Now, I am sure everyone reading this has already bookmarked this blog in order to keep up on the current happenings in my (dull) life. If that is the case, you will eventually get to see - or at least read my silly descriptions of - my work, my hobbies, and my life in general.

For friends and family members who are reading this, I'm sorry I do such a poor job of keeping in touch. I hope this helps you keep better tabs on me. For those who just stumbled upon my little blog and decided to read it... shame on you. What would your mother think?