Three Years Ago

I quit smoking three years ago today.

I've never looked back, never wanted a cigarette. Best decision I ever made.

Although I was a smoker for over three decades, maybe even four, quitting was easier than I thought it would be.

I used a combo of patches and gum. I followed the step-down instructions. Plus, I went into it with the attitude that I wasn't "trying to quit"...I HAD quit. From the time I snubbed out that last cigarette, I was a non-smoker.

However, I did not become an anti-smoking Nazi. It doesn't bother me that people smoke. My best friend smokes. Not only do I let her smoke in my home, I keep a couple of ash trays around for her convenience.

I think the smoking bans are silly. If you go someplace and it's too smokey, go somewhere else. The world doesn't revolve around you.

If you're a smoker, I won't even encourage you to quit. It was the right decision for me. You do what you want.

Have a great day!

My Foodie Post

The other day, a lot of local food bloggers got a lot of love from the KC Star.

So I decided it was time for me to jump on the food blogging wagon.

Here is my review of Teresa's Drive In on Truman Road.



Fuck YEAH!


That was yummy in my tummy!

Look out CHUCKIE! I'm coming for you!

The Remco Years - Chapter 2

What I remember and cherish most about The Remco Years was the sex.

Not sex with the customers.

I may have walked a few drunk women to the door when I was a cab driver, I may have seen that they made it safely inside, I may have stuck around for a drink if they asked. I may have coined the term MILF. Because I was just cool like that.

But I don't recall bumping uglies with any Remco customers.

Now my partner Eric? Totally different story! If he went out to collect a rent payment from a customer, and they didn't have no rent payment, and the woman of the house wasn't entirely repulsive, and the husband wasn't around, he would not turn down an offer of "a spoon full of sugar" in lieu of the rent!

That wasn't me.

But I do remember walking into the office one day and seeing a dazzling, blonde, vision of beauty filing out an application dressed in a tight, short, white dress that told me everything I needed to know about the woman.

I immediately walked into Dan's office and said "I don't care what job she is applying for or what her qualifications are. HIRE HER!"

He seemed to be of like mind, because she started the following Monday.

It was a long time ago and I don't recall all of the details.

I know that I wanted her. I know that she was in a white trash crappy relationship. I know that at some point she called Sir Galahad and I drove out to Greenwood, MO and rescued her.

I know that I stored her at my mom's in Raytown for a few days while I made other arrangements.

I eventually managed to secure a cheap motel room in Independence on Salisbury Road just north of 24 Hwy.


I would love to say that it has deteriorated over the last 30 years, but not so much, really. That's pretty much what it looked like then, too. Might have even received a coat of paint since then.

We went at it like a couple of rabid weasels! My God! That was some of the best sex EVER!

I was in my early 20's and unable to distinguish between sex and love. I thought this was it!

I managed to score us an apartment at this place.


I think it was called something else at the time, but it was the same place.

I swear to Allah, when the manager showed me the place and she opened the pivot door to the closet in the Master Bedroom, there was a fucking mushroom growing out of the fucking carpet! Seriously!

But I was so hot for this woman, I didn't care. I rented the place anyway! I wasn't really looking for a place where we could live.

I was looking for a place where we could fuck. A LOT!

I don't recall a single meal we shared, or an event we attended together. All I remember is lots of hot, steamy, sweaty sex.

I don't think we made it 2 months before another "Sir Galahad" showed up at the door to move her out.

I was devastated. I thought I was in love. I was hurt. I wasn't sure I would ever recover.

Shortly afterwards, she quit Remco and moved on. Her replacement was a bit of a big girl. A red head with a great rack.

Yeah, I tapped that too.

Including once in the office, on the floor, behind the front desk after the office was closed.

It all seemed so important at the time.

To this day, I couldn't tell you the names of either one of them.

Excelsior Springs

When I met TheDLC at the gay bar last weekend, he confessed that he had never been to Excelsior Springs.

So I thought I would give him a reason to visit the town.

There is a lunch spot that he needs to review. Ray's Lunch.


This place has been exactly as you see it, by my personal knowledge, since at least 1964.

But he needs to plan his visit carefully as it is only open from 6am to 2pm, Monday thru Saturday.

While he is there, he should visit the Hall of Waters.






The Water Bar itself and the incredible Art Deco light fixtures are pretty impressive.



And while he's there, he should visit The Elms Hotel. It dates back to the same era and is very cool.

The Remco Years

So, it's the late 70's. I didn't own a car. I'm driving a cab in Raytown and actually living at the taxi stand. Sleeping on a couch in the dispatchers office and taking most of my meals on the go in the taxi.

Every few nights, I would take some of my earnings and get a room at the sleazy Frontier Motel on 50 Hwy so I could sleep in a real bed and get a shower. The patchouli oil would carry me over to the next motel night.

It was right next door to Jerry's Steak House, so I had that working for me.

It kinda sucked, but that's what it took to be out on my own and not living with my mom, so I was willing to endure the indignation. I was a young man, in my early 20's and I had too much pride to still be depending on my mom to put a roof over my head. Plus, I was a horn dog looking to get laid and much to my surprise, reeking of ass and patchouli and being essentially homeless was more attractive to women than living with your mother.

One night I picked up a couple of well dressed drunks from a Raytown bar. They're amiable salesmen-type guys. We strike up a conversation. They ask me if I know my way around the city and if I might be interested in a job.

Sure, sez I.

The younger one gives me his card and tells me to give him a call. He's looking for a delivery guy. Pays $1000.00 a month.

Holy Fuck! $1000.00 a month?!? $12,000.00 a year?!? I'd never earned that much in my life! Best fucking job offer ever!

So I called him and took him up on his offer and became the newest rep for Remco TV Rental.

In those days, the office was in the strip mall between a Price Chopper and Sherwin Williams at 63rd and I-435. Ya know, next to Funky Town. That's the picture at the top.

But it wasn't long before we moved to brand new digs at 23rd & Noland.



It was one of the earliest "rent-to-own" outfits. The business model was this. Rent a TV or stereo to some poor destitute fuck who couldn't get credit anywhere. After they've rented it for 24 months, they own it!

But here's the catch. The rent payments were more than the comparable credit installment payments would be, so you were paying WAY MORE for the product than you would if you had credit. About twice as much, on average.

But here's the kicker. Rent it for 22 months and miss that 23rd months rent? I'm on your door step taking that TV back to the office where we rehabilitate it and rent it to another sucker for 24 months.

It's the sleaziest, most predatory job I've aver had.

At the time, it was also the best fucking job I'd ever had!

The Manager was Dan O'L. A former Naval Aviator and helicopter pilot of Irish descent.




He taught me many important life lessons.

*****

The first was, "You aren't getting paid by the hour. You're on salary. Your first priority is to manage you're own time. If you can get your job done working 4 hours a day, 3 days a week, good for you! I could give a fuck. But if it takes you 14 hours a day 7 days a week, then that's what we expect of you. I could give a fuck. We pay you to get your job done. How hard or easy you make it is up to you."

*****

The second lesson was The Management Test. Keep in mind, this was at least 30 fucking years ago.

Here is the test.

You are are promoted to CEO. You inherit three female Executive Assistants. You can only afford to keep one.

You give each EA $1000.00.

The first EA banks the money in a Certificate of Deposit for her kid's college fund.

The second EA Blows the $1000.00 on a night on the town with her girl friends.

The third EA spends the money on professional clothes hoping for a future promotion.

The test is, which EA do you keep?

The answer, of course is, you keep the one with the biggest tits.

*****

The third lesson he taught me was the lesson of expediency.

We used to tear up the bar scene together, especially in Westport. He wasn't above just yelling out "Hey lady, ya wanna fuck?"

His theory was, if she said yes, you just saved a whole lot of time and money.

And if she said no, you also saved a whole lot of time and money.

A sort of "winnowing the wheat from the chaff" approach, if you will. Mind you, I never saw that approach actually work, but his logic was impeccable.

*****

The TV and stereo rental business itself was very interesting. I was hired to replace Danny K. Here he is training me on how to lift a 25" console TV and carry it into a house by yourself.



You had to know how to get the rental property into and out of the property by yourself.

Because although the renter will rush out and eagerly help you carry the TV in, they won't lift a fucking finger to help you take it away from them when they miss a payment! It was important let the renter know that if you can get it into the house by yourself, you can damned well take it out by yourself.

They taught us other tricks too. Such as never conducting business on the porch. We had these imposing, metal bound receipt books. We were taught to walk into the house, set the receipt book on top of the TV or stereo, and conduct business from there. It sent the message that the equipment didn't belong to them, it belonged to you. Until that final, exhorbitant reant payment was made, it was your TV and you were in charge.

There were just two of us. Me and Eric. I was white, Eric was black

My territory was everything east of Jackson St. in Kansas City going all the way out to Blue Springs, as far north as Liberty and Kearney and as far south as Grandview.

He had everything west of Jackson, including KCK and all of The Dotte.

Here is Eric and Danny using Dan O'L to teach me how to get the rent payments out of the customers.



This was the first job I ever had where I actually operated out of an office.



Oh yeah! Just look at this fucker.



That face just oozes trustworthiness!

Jesus H. Christ in a Chicken Basket! What a fucking sleaze ball!

I'll try to post more Remco stories later.

In the meantime, I have to rest up for tomorrow's dental appointment.

An Appreciation

I started this blog four and a half years ago.

At the time, there were no blogger gatherings that I was aware of.

I think it was about three years ago that the first local blogger gathering (well, not the first one EVER, but the first one since I had been blogging) was organized by the late Greg Beck and his best friend Michelle. It was held at Harry's in the River Market.

I work downtown, so I was the first to arrive. I had no idea what to expect. How would I recognize these people? Were they already here and I just couldn't spot them? What do I look for? Nerds? Geeks? Intellectuals? Emos? Goths? I had no idea.

A guy with crazy hair walked in and immediately walked up to me, extended his hand and said "I recognize you!" He complimented me on my blog and the comments I had posted on other blogs.

At one point he said something like "Want to guess who I am?"

Fucker! Turns out he was Bill Brownlee from Happy In Bag, There Stands The Glass, Plastic Sax and I'm not sure how many others.

But here's the thing...the picture he has posted on his profile is THIS!



"Oh sure! I recognize you! You're the Alien face-hugger guy!"



WTF, Bill? LOL! That was mean!

As Bill was grinning at me awaiting my response and I was enduring one of my most awkward social moments EVER, Greg and Michelle finally showed up and, as I recall, so did Spyder.

Other bloggers trickled in over the next few hours and a good time was had by all, with Greg holding court in the corner. He was King of the Bloggers and everybody wanted to talk to him.

What I discovered was that people who are intelligent, amusing, entertaining and interesting online are intelligent, amusing, entertaining and interesting in real life.

I think Greg and Michelle organized another meet-up, but I don't recall the location.

A month after that, Greg was dead from a heart attack.

It came as a huge shock. We were all devastated. None more so than Michelle, obviously.

The turnout at his funeral was HUGE, with lots of hot women rocking it in red dresses, just like he wanted.

It would have been very natural for us all to disperse and go our own way.

But Spyder wasn't having any of that.

She took up the mantle and started organizing our monthly get togethers. She has been doing it faithfully for almost three years now.

It's a pretty thankless fucking job! Because I'm here to tell you, we can be a bunch of whiny, prima donna little bitches! "It's too far south! It's in Mordor! Why can't we meet north of the river? They allow smoking! They don't allow smoking! Their dirty martinis aren't dirty enough! Their bathrooms are gross! Wah, wah, wah!"

But she keeps doing it and every month there is a get together. Show up if want, don't if you want. But there is a meeting every fucking month. Everyone is always welcome. Bloggers, tweeters, commenters, lurkers, even anonymous trolls. The meet ups are always publicized well in advance and anyone who shows up will receive a warm welcome. Because that's just how she rolls.

I can't imagine the local blogging community being as cohesive as it is without Spyder.

Spyder and her husband, Kanga, are two of the most generous, caring and giving people I have the honor to know. Whenever anyone needs help, they are the first to show up and the last to leave.

I remember when one of the blogger meets was a volunteer shift at Harvesters organized by Dan Ryan.

Spyder and Kanga were busting a sweaty hump! They were going at it with a passion! I remember commenting on how hard they were working. I forget whether it was Kanga or Spyder who responded by saying "That's how shit gets done!" True story!

So this is just a little bit of appreciation for the woman who has probably done more for local blogging than anyone I know. You have taken the spark generated by Greg and Michelle and turned a bunch of self-absorbed attention whores into a community of caring people who have each other's backs.

Thank you, Spyder. Your efforts are appreciated.

Just thought you should know that, Miss Moneypenny.

A Very Shiny Day!

So, today was the day that my BFF Abso-freaking-lutely Fiesty and I had set aside to have another Shiny Day together.

Due to some complicated stuff going on in AF's life (which you can read about on her blog if you are interested), we haven't had much opportunity to get together lately, so we were both pretty pumped.

The agenda for a Shiny Day is to avoid having any real agenda. Instead, we pick a couple of things that sound fun and then spend the day bouncing from one shiny object to another.

In case you haven't figured it out, a shiny object is something that makes you yell "HOLY SHIT! What the FUCK was THAT?!? Turn around!"

The day kicked off when she called me with an epiphany. The epiphany was that she had a lot of steak, a lot of eggs, and a jug of Shatto milk. She would bring them over so I could fix breakfast for us. Steak and eggs! The traditional astronaut pre-launch breakfast! AWESOME!

"The crew of Apollo 11 share the traditional launch day breakfast of steak and eggs on 16 July 1969. From left: Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, and Director of Flight Crew Operations Donald "Deke" Slayton.

Steak and eggs is a studly breakfast, yes, but it has a practical side. Craig Nelson's 2009 book Rocket Men claims the meal is "low in fiber and low in waste." Race to the Moon, the 1984 book by William Breuer, describes Alan Shepard eating a "low-residue breakfast" of steak and eggs before becoming the first American in space in 1961."

In other words, astronauts ate steak and eggs before launch because it reduced the possibility that they would need to take a shit in space.

But I digress.

After breakfast we started out by heading to the Brass Armadillo based mainly on the weird shit Midtown Miscreant found out there and blogged about the other day.

But I couldn't get at it from I-70 and didn't see it from 40 Hwy and neither one of us cared enough to try any harder, so I made the executive decision to say Fuck It and we headed downtown.

But first, like a couple criminals on the lamb, we had to switch vehicles. We were in my jeep and my stereo got jacked outside of a Barnum & Bailey Circus at Kemper Arena a few years ago and I never bothered to replace it. This was unacceptable to AF so we switched to her truck, where I was subjected to aural rape by country music, dance divas, and Tech N9ne, much to her sadistic delight. Bitch.

Next stop was Weird Stuff Antiques.

Know how I know they have weird stuff? Two ways. It says so on the label.



And there was a big, furry, yellow Cadillac out front.



The shit inside did not disappoint.


There was a black velvet Jeebus.


Giant oversized shit.


Homemade, amatamateurde oil-paintings.


Erotic stained glass panels.


A sock monkey which AF procured for a mere $6.00.


And a pair of fun shoes with matching belt which she did NOT procure because they were not her size.

This doesn't even scratch the surface. There are TONS of cool crap down there. Go check it out!

From there we headed over to the Fringe Festival, but you have to pay $5.00 for a Fringe Button Pass, all of the shows have admission charges that seem to average around $10.00 each and it didn't really kick off until after 6pm. Stay out late, spend a shit load of money to see amatuer performers and artists trying to sell us shit? I don't think so! Fuck that.

Next was Westport. Something called the "Ric Rac Roundup" at Bon Bon Atelier. Bunch of lame ass "art" being shopped by pretentious hipsters and sold by even more pretentious "artists". That was 5 minutes out of our lives we'll never get back.

We tried to salvage the Westport experience by visiting Boomerang, a vintage clothing place at Broadway and Westport Road. FAIL! They had ancient clothing with price tags in the $70 - $80 range. Shit you can get at the DAV store for $2.00! Are stoners really that stupid! Because we aren't.

By then it was almost 3:00 and it was time for "Grab Bag Bingo" at Missie B's.

We had no idea what the fuck "Grab Bag Poker" was. That was the whole point. Some vaguely suggestive version of an old peoples board game held on a Saturday afternoon at a gay bar? THAT is the kind of weird shit we live for!

Earlier in the day, The DLC, author of Kansas City Lunch Spots called and wanted to hook up with us, and we made arrangements to meet at Missie B's for the Grab Bag Bingo.

Well guess what PITCH EVENT CALENDAR! They stopped having "Bag Grab Bingo" at Missie B's several fucking years ago! Update your fucking calendar! Because when AF heard there was no Grab Bag Bingo, she stepped outside to have a smoke and left me sitting alone, wearing my backward Kangol cap, in a crowded gay bar! Waiting for another guy (The DLC) to show up. At which point one of the crusty old patrons asked if I could "scoot my seat to the side" so they could "squeeze in another chair". Fucking HAWESOME!

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The DLC showed up (equally disappointed that there was no Grab Bag Bingo to be had) and we began reevaluating our options. Strip clubs were under serious consideration. As were lesbian bars. As AF so succinctly suggested, the 3 of us being at a MALE gay bar benefited no one.

Touché. Well played.

AF's steak and eggs were beginning to wear off and she was craving some form of meat covered in blue cheese. Because we can read each other's minds, she anticipated and countered my witty response before it was ever uttered. Sweet!

It came down to a choice between Tootsies and Fric and Frac's.

A quick phone call revealed that Tootsies was not yet open so we proceeded to Fric and Frac's for a blue cheese burger for AF.

On the way to Fric and Frac's we drove by Zebedee's Vintage Record Store which was our next Shiny Object.

After finishing up at Fric and Frac's, the three of us walked down to Zebedee's for a look see. AF picked up a couple of $1.00 CDs. I took this picture of the Living God of the Rastafarians, Haile Selassie.


In case you can't read the banner on my crappy photo, it says "WARNING: HIGHLY Selassie!", which is really funny.

By this point, AF was exhausted and ready for a nap before going out with her sister later tonight, so we all called it a day.

A very shiny day.

A Failure To Communicate

In a nutshell, Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. was arrested in Cambridge, MA after a neighbor called 911 when she thought she saw two African-American men with backpacks trying to force entry into a house.

Just to add to the fun, "Skip" Gates is a friend of the President and when he was asked about the incident at the end of last night's press conference, he said the police had "acted stupidly".

Professor Gates' attorney, Charles Ogletree, issued a statement giving Professor Gates' side of the story.

The police officers report of the incident is up on The Smoking Gun.

According to Gates, he had just arrived home from a trip to China and couldn't get in his front door because of problems from a previous break in. He went to the back door, let himself in with his key so he could turn off the alarm, and returned to the front door where he solicited his driver's help to force open the front door so they could bring in his luggage.

It was at this point that a neighbor noticed the activity, called 911, and police responded.

You can read the police report and attorney statement I linked to above to get the finer details, but suffice it to say that Professor Gates is claiming Racial Profiling while the arresting officer is claiming Disorderly Conduct.

The arresting officer, whose incredibly ironic name is Jim Crowley, claims he was just carrying out his job in a professional manner (Crowley is also an instructor at the Police Academy who teaches a class in how to AVOID racial profiling). According to his account, Gates was verbally abusive, uncooperative and started yelling about "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO A BLACK MAN IN AMERICA!"

According to Gates, he was polite, cooperative and was arrested without cause, in his own home, after providing identification, just because he was black.

There are a lot of forces in play here. Let me run them down for you.

THE COP

Let me preface this with a little story.

I used to work in a credit office for a high end (heh heh) retailer at Crown Center. I started in collections and later graduated to processing credit apps.

Not an optimal career path.

Because the only customers I encountered in the beginning were the deadbeats, I came to view all customers as deadbeats. I never had any contact with good customers. So when I started processing credit apps, I was predisposed to view them all as evil doers trying to rip us off. I routinely turned down potential customers who had better credit scores than me!

Luckily, I didn't have the final say and my credit manager vetoed many of my recommendations. She reminded me that our job wasn't to turn away villains, but to find ways to open accounts for people so they could buy our overpriced Russian Lacquer Boxes because that's what paid our salaries!

Cops are the same way. The only people they come into contact with are criminals or people suspected of being criminals. After a while, they start assuming that everyone is a criminal. The only delineation they acknowledge is between criminals who are getting away with it and criminals brought to justice.

So despite the antiseptic spin presented in the official police report, I have no doubt that Officer Crowley walked into the incident with certain preconceptions and assumptions. It's inevitable.

He was responding to a report of black men attempting to break into a house only to find black men inside the house. What was he supposed to think?

Bottom line...neither one of us were there so we don't know what happened other than what we read in the news.

THE PROFESSOR

By his own account, he had just returned from a trip to China. I have no idea how long he was in China. I don't know how long the flights from China to Massachusetts are. I don't know how many stops, flight changes, custom checks, bag inspections, and other inconveniences are involved.

But I used to do a lot of business travelling. I know that even after an overnight trip that only involved a 3 hour flight, all I wanted to do was get home and sleep in my own bed. Anything that stood between me and that was the enemy and had to be defeated.

So put yourself in his shoes. It's been a long gruelling trip, he's tired, he just wants to get home and go to bed. He can't get his front door open. FUCK! He jumps through hoops to get in the house, get his luggage unloaded, he calls the property management office to get the problem with the front door fixed, and he looks up to see a white cop at his door who thinks he is a potential criminal.

Immediately, like it or not, hundreds of years of racial tension bubble up on both sides of that door. If both parties are aware of it, they can each follow a strategy to negotiate the rapids and avoid the boulders. But if one party is tired and cranky and the other person is jaded and concerned with his safety, real communication becomes impossible and shit blows up.

I'll tell you right now, I have snapped and gone off on innocent white folk just trying to do their jobs under much less stressful and emotionally loaded situations because I was tired, cranky and just wanted to be home.

Bottom line...neither one of us were there so we don't know what happened other than what we read in the news.

THE PRESIDENT

I've read the police report and I've read Gates' attorney's response. I seriously doubt that the President has read either one. At least I hope not. I would hope he is devoting his time to more Presidential matters. He's been briefed by staff. He may have spoken to Gates personally. I have no idea.

But he was wrong to say that "the police acted stupidly". He didn't have all of the facts. None of us do.

The United States is a country that prides itself on placing "The Rule of Law" above all else. No one, not even the President or Congress are above The Law. So lacking substantial evidence to the contrary, the POTUS needs to give the benefit of the doubt to law enforcement.

Don't get me wrong. I think we have way too many laws, way too many "mandatory minimum sentences" and way too many Barney Fifes.

But one of the reasons that Barack Obama was able to capture so many white votes was because he wasn't Jesse Jackson, he wasn't Al Sharpton, and he didn't constantly have his lips wrapped around the victim trumpet!

By immediately blaming the police, he played into that tired old victim mentality.

He should have just said "I don't know the facts, I wasn't there, let's let the process work, let's see what really happened."

President Obama fucked up. Yeah, that's right. I just said that.

Prediction: I'll say it every time I think he fucks up and he will fuck up again and again as long as he is president.

THE RACISM

If there is any real racism involved here, it isn't from the professor or the cop. It's from the white woman who saw two black men forcing their way into a house and reported it as a potential crime in progress.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for neighborhood watch groups. If she was a white woman just passing through the neighborhood, who didn't know anything, and came across something like that, I could maybe see her calling 911.

But according to reports, it was a woman who lived across the street!

She didn't know that the black man living across the street was a Harvard Professor?

She doesn't recognize him?

I used to drive taxis and I've been transported by many taxis and limos. She didn't see the taxi or Lincoln Continental running idle with it's lights on and the trunk open at the curb while these shenanigans were going on?

If there was any racial profiling, if was by the neighbor across the street who assumed that the anonymous black man trying to get into his house must be a crime in progress.

This entire incident was a COLOSSAL failure to communicate.

Apolllo 11

You may have seen a couple of news stories about today being the 40th Anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing.

There has been enough coverage that I don't feel like I have much to add. I covered Apollo 11 a couple of years ago. I talked about getting to attend the 20th Anniversary celebration at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum, my close encounter with Armstrong and Aldrin, and Alexei Leonov.

You can read all about it if you want.

What I thought I'd do is regale you with some of my favorite stories from the early days of the space program as gleaned from years of research.


WERNER VON BRAUN


The guy who really got us to the moon was the Mexican Immigrant and German rocket scientist who went to great lengths to make sure he wound up as an American prisoner at the end of WWII, Werner von Braun. He took his basic design of the Nazi V-2 rocket and upscaled it to a ridonkulous degree to become the Saturn V moon rocket.

In the late 50's and early 60's, the Soviet Union was kicking our ass and calling us Shirley. They were scoring first after first in the space race with their heavy rocket boosters. Mainly because their nukes were less sophisticated than ours and required larger rockets, but I digress.

Meanwhile, our shit was blowing up like the most expensive fireworks display ever mounted! This was around the same time that President Kennedy decided, based on Alan Shepards 15 minute sub-orbital flight, to stick his thumb up the Communist's ass and declare "Fuck it. We're going to the moon! Catch us if you can you Godless Commie bastards!" (not an exact quote).

A reporter cornered Werner von Braun shortly after the announcement and asked him "Dr. von Braun, when we get to the moon, what do you think we will find there?"

Werner replied "At this rate...empty vodka bottles."

URINATION IN SPACE

Tom Wolfe told this story in "The Right Stuff". In order to pee in zero gravity, you needed to put on a condom with a tube at the end that led to a reservoir where the urine was stored until it could be ejected from the spacecraft using a special connection designed for that purpose. The entire system was referred to as the Waste Management System.

Taking a shit in space involved taping a baggie to your ass in an area about the same size as a Volkswaogon Beetle with two of your buddies sitting elbow to elbow. But I'm not even going there. I'm, sticking with the Urine Collection system.

In order for the Urine Collection system to work, the condom had to fit properly. The Urine Collection devices came in 3 sizes...Small, Medium and Large.

Well, no self-respecting Test Pilot turned Star Voyager was going to walk into the nerdy Flight Surgeon's office and declare he needed a SMALL Urine Collection Device.

So the Astronauts renamed the sizes. They became "Large, EXTRA Large, and UNBELIEVABLE!"

NEIL ARMSTRONG'S BALLS

Neil Armstrong flew the X-15 Rocket Plane which was the coolest flying craft EVER!

He was also the commander of Gemini 8. This was a rendezvous and docking exercise with a specially designed Agena docking vehicle and meant to practice manuevers that would be critical to the Apollo moon flight profiles.

Shortly after docking with the Agena target vehicle, the mated spacecraft began spinning rapidly. After fighting the problem and burning precious attitude control fuel trying to bring the bucking bronco under control, Armstrong made the decision do release the Agena. Unknown to him at the time, the problem was a stuck thruster on his own Gemini craft which started tumbling even faster.

Armstrong and Scott were quickly approaching blackouts from centrifugal forces. Armstrong, havng difficulty seeing clearly and having trouble communicating with Houston, broke all the rules and manually disabbled the Orbital Attitude Manuevering System, activated the Re-entry Control System, manually stabilized the craft, initiated re-entry manuevers via hand controllers, and brought the spacecraft to a splashdown within 3 miles of the recovery Aircraft Carrier.

Amazing cool.

There are other stories regarding the LLRV and the actual lunar landing that had less than 10 seconds of fuel left in the tanks.

It is an epic tale of exploration that concludes here.



You cannot begin to imagine the impact that this had on a 13 year old technophile.

If I believe that we can solve any problem through science and technology, this is why. We have and we can.

Can't name a single problem we have overcome or goal we have achieved through faith & prayer.

Science gets shit done!

A Change To The Blog

For the first time in over 3 years of blogging, I've had to put in place a restriction on comments.

It is the least restrictive method that Blogger offers...one of those word verification things to prove you are a human and not a robot.

I've recently been getting a lot of spammy comments. I'm not knowledgeable enough to to determine where they are coming from, I just know that A) I can't read them. They appear to be Asian. And B) Some of my domestic readers have received similar spam from the same source and I blame myself.

If they were just annoying comments on my posts, I could live with that. But when they become an annoyance to my fellow bloggers, it's time to shut them down.

I apologize to my readers if this change inconveniences them. That is not my intent. I just don't want to be a nexus of nuisance for others.

Feel free to leave me comments expressing your feedback.

Cheney Ordered CIA To Withhold Info From Congress

"WASHINGTON (CNN) -- CIA Director Leon Panetta testified to a congressional committee that he was told former Vice President Dick Cheney ordered the intelligence agency to withhold information about a secret counterterrorism program from Congress, the chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee said Sunday."

"Panetta briefed lawmakers on June 24 on an unspecified counterterrorism program, according to a letter from seven House Democrats to Panetta made public Wednesday. The June 26 letter characterized Panetta as testifying that the CIA "concealed significant actions from all members of Congress, and misled members for a number of years from 2001 to this week."

It does not surprise me at all that Dick Cheney would order the CIA to conduct illegal, covert, surveillance on American citizens and then order them to not disclose it to the congressional oversight committees whose job it is to make sure the CIA is operating within the law.

Just to make this crystal clear, this means that Dick Cheney committed criminal acts while in office and ordered others to commit criminal acts.

I hope Eric Holder has the balls to prosecute him. Dick Cheney spent 8 years shitting all over the concept of co-equal branches of government, pissing all over the idea of checks and balances, and wiping his ass with the constitution.

He belongs in a federal prison.

Ban on tobacco urged in military??? WTF?

"By Gregg Zoroya, USA TODAY

WASHINGTON — Pentagon health experts are urging Defense Secretary Robert Gates to ban the use of tobacco by troops and end its sale on military property, a change that could dramatically alter a culture intertwined with smoking.

Jack Smith, head of the Pentagon's office of clinical and program policy, says he will recommend that Gates adopt proposals by a federal study that cites rising tobacco use and higher costs for the Pentagon and Department of Veterans Affairs as reasons for the ban."

You have GOT to be fucking kidding me! We make up bullshit reasons to go to war with Iraq and send our soldiers into a meat grinder, we get over 4,000 of them killed dead, tens of thousands of others maimed and wounded and these fucktards want to take their cigarettes away from them?

These soldiers, regardless of why they were sent into harms way, are risking their fucking lives 24/7, being ripped away from their families, being forced to stay in the military past the end of their enlistment, being re-deployed over and over again and we're going to take that as an opportunity to help them quit smoking? Really?

That's beyond shenanigans and bullshit. That's just fucking stupid and it's spitting in the faces of our troops.

Look, I quit smoking almost 3 years ago. In fact, on July 31st it will be exactly 3 years. I'm glad I did it. Smartest thing I ever did and I've never had the urge to start smoking again. But unlike some folks, I did not become a born-again anti-smoking Nazi. I don't give a flying fuck at a rolling donut whether other people smoke or not. I'm not a smoke free zealot and I think businesses should be able to choose whether they want to allow smoking or not. I let my smoking friends smoke in my house. I even keep an ash tray around for them. Because I'm a tolerant person and a good host.

But I'll tell you what. If you were to pick me up, strap 90 pounds of armor and equipment on me, send me into a live firefight in 110 degree heat with bullets whizzing by me, explosions going off, people around me being ripped apart and killed, after it was over and I realized I was still alive, I bet a cigarette would taste pretty fucking good! After a couple of good smokes I'd worry about shovelling the shit out of my pants and puking up everything I'd eaten in the past 12 years.

Taking cigarettes away from fighting soldiers is the sort of thing that could only be conceived of by fat-assed academics sitting in air conditioned offices who think they are being protected by the 70 year old security guard at the front desk of their building.

"One in three service members use tobacco, the report says, compared with one in five adult Americans. The heaviest smokers are soldiers and Marines, who have done most of the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, the study says. About 37% of soldiers use tobacco and 36% of Marines. Combat veterans are 50% more likely to use tobacco than troops who haven't seen combat."

GEE! Ya fucking think? Who saw that coming? Jesus Fucking Christ, people.

"The military complicates attempts to curb tobacco use by subsidizing tobacco products for troops who buy them at base exchanges and commissaries, says Kenneth Kizer, a committee member and architect of California's anti-tobacco program.

Seventy percent of profits from tobacco sales — $88 million in 2005 — pays for recreation and family support programs, the study stays."

So by banning tobacco, not only are we depriving the fighting soldiers who are protecting OUR FREEDOM of one of the extremely few ways they have to deal with the stress we thrust them into, but we are also harming their families back home by cutting funding for their support.

You know what? Not only should tobacco NOT be banned, not only should the military continue to subsidize tobacco products at the BX/PXs, but any soldier who chooses to smoke should receive gift wrapped cartons at regular intervals with a card hand-signed by the president.

Anytime a soldier pulls out a cigarette, their commanding officer (or the nearest U.S. citizen) should rush to their side like a tip-hungry bartender, whip out a solid gold lighter and light that soldiers cigarette while reminding them that the American people appreciate their sacrifice.

If our soldiers want to smoke, let them smoke. I think they've earned the right to do as they please.

Ryan Reynolds is The Green Lantern

I first heard it on Twitter from my friend @betizuka who's husband @logtar is a Green Lantern fan.



Then I saw that it was confirmed at other news sources.



I think Reynolds will make a great Hal Jordan.

Welcome, Senator Al Franken

Conservatives have their panties in a twist over the fact that former SNL Comedian and author Al Franken managed to win a senate race in the same state that elected former professional wrestler and actor Jesse Ventura governor!



Let us not forget that the people criticizing Al Franken are the same folks who think that a B-movie actor who played 2nd fiddle to a trained chimp...






...who appeared in the most gay-cowboy-fetish (not that there's anything wrong with that) costume EVER...



...was the GREATEST PRESIDENT in the history of America!

If Ronald Reagan can be President of the United States...



...and The Terminator can be Governor of California,...



then Al Franken can be the junior Senator from Minnesota.

So shut the fuck up.