Only Criminals Will Wear Ugg Boots....

When the Philadelphia area makes the news, it is very rarely a good thing.

We continue our streak this morning with the announcement that Pottstown Middle School has banned the wearing of Ugg boots in the classroom.

Not because they're hideously expensive.  Not because they're hideously ugg-ly.  Because the wearers of Ugg boots, presumably all female, are hiding their cell phones in their boots.

If the Pottstown Middle School, not to mention every school district in America, were more interested in grades and curriculum than restricting cell phone use, we'd all be better off for it.

That's not just opinion- it's fact.

Real News Where You Can Find It

I am not a patient man.  When they gave out patience, I must have been elsewhere.  I probably couldn't stand in line long enough for it.

I have actually strained what precious little patience I have beyond the breaking point, looking for real news.  Our fourth estate has abdicated its responsibility.  Mainstream media is the lapdog of the White House.  All newspapers are owned by about five companies.  If you go there looking for truth, you're not going to find it.  Disappointment will ensure.

We used to have shortwave radio.  We still do, to some small extent.  Many broadcasters have given it up.  The internet has almost killed radio.  But you have to go outside the country for anything approximating balanced news (Fox News is as balanced as Mussolini, as are the rest of them).

You can also search the internet.  Surveys show that most people get their news from the internet these days.  This is good, as people can largely find what they want online, regardless of bias.

While channel-surfing last week (we only have broadcast television - no cable) I came across the most interesting news I have seen on television.  They gave all sides.  They mentioned Ron Paul (which is expressly forbidden in the US).  They interviewed people on the street in New York (which was ugly).  A fellow named Max Keiser gave a very astute political reading.

What off-planet source did I hook into?  Russia Today.

Before you fall off your ergonomically-correct computer chair laughing, go check out the link and let me know what you found.  Here in Philly, Pennsylvania, US, RT is channel 35-4.  Check to see if you have it locally.  At this very moment, the moderator is stating that Mitt Romney makes more money in one day than the average American makes in one year.  His guest is explaining this and breaking it down.  They are discussing Reagan and taxes.

You are not going to see this on any other news program you watch.  Check it out.

It's Groomer Time

All hail Groomer Time, when all good cockers go off to see the groomer.  Marshall sure has been getting rather fuzzy lately, much like his dad.  Unlike his dad, he gets to the groomer.

My wife tells me Weird Stuff.  No, that's actually a relevant point.
She tells me things like Marshall loves going to the groomer.  Always one to suspend disbelief or play along, I ask how she knows this.  He tells her (obviously).

Sometimes even my wife can be right.  We pulled up to the groomer's place and Marshall got all excited.  I have no idea why.  He sure as hell doesn't like other dogs and grooming can't be one of the most pleasurable events in his life....

Since I was in charge of transportation today, I had to listen to the Standard Lectures about how much and how to pay for things.  And make sure (dammit!) to tip the groomer twenty bucks.

I'm a network security engineer and I don't get twenty dollar tips.

When I questioned this practice, she said it was customary and that less would be an insult.

Not to my wallet, it wouldn't.

And furthermore, don't forget to get him a stuffed toy of some sort.  One that he likes.  Once again taking the straight man position, I asked how I'd know if he liked the toy or not.

She told me to let him pick one out.

Let the dog pick out a stuffed toy he likes?

Yes.

He's a dog, you know.

Yes, he walks over and picks out just the right one.

Absolutely, Dear [giving up totally].  That's what I'll do.

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I should mention at this point, that this circus isn't entirely about weird people, too fuzzy dogs and just the right stuffed animal, no sir.  There's the groomer too.

I don't know where groomers come from but the few I've met have been male and very gay.  Oddly (or maybe not), both have asked if I wanted the dog's toenails painted.  One suggested bows because `he could rock that look'.  Now I don't want to project my masculinity onto my dog but I'm just not going to permit bows.  Bows are for Yorkies and other rodent-like breeds.

But I'm going to try to be fair here: WWWD (what would wife do)?  I'll do what my wife would do: if Marshall wants nail polish and bows, he can ask me for them.

It's been a while since I took my furry child to the groomer and I almost didn't recognize him.  Yes, all the piercings were there, but the bit of nuclear green hair was definitely new.

After Marshall picked out his stuffed toy, we went to the car.  By the time I hit the main road, he had discovered the bag, removed the toy, and was proceeding to completely disembowel it on the front seat.  There was stuffing everywhere.

While Marshall is religiously into everything, it's interesting to note that if there's something for him, he will discover it in its bag and take it.  I've seen him bypass other interesting stuff for his toys or treats.   Mind you, if there are no treats for him, he'll take the first thing that's interesting.

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Once we're home, Marshall goes back to being the head (scrounge) of the house.  The only change is the itching he always gets after a groomer visit.  He will leap up and twist himself around then shake his head so violently it appears he will beat himself to death with his own flaps.

Ok, it's kinda funny.

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Today I bid a sad farewell to the most fun part of a groomer visit for me: getting home and watching the cat totally flip out, as if we brought home a different dog.    He has been known to hide, arch his back, hiss, and behave in other hilarious ways.  Tonight, nothing.

There is so little that entertains me; making it sadder when things like this fail to occur.

Today's Irony Effect

In Atheism We Believe?

It's ok that you want to marry.  We don't care about his color, hobbies, orientation or job.  Just please don't tell us he's an atheist....

According to a survey, atheists are among the most disliked groups in America.

Actually it's ok - we found out it's not their fault... their brains are different.  Note that the question came from Utah....

Crisis - What Crisis?

Hey, did you know the country's in a financial crisis, the likes of which have never been seen before?  In order to disguise this, our friends in Treasury are dipping into federal pension funds to allow President Giveaway the power to create more debt.

Hear the Sea

We can now listen to the sea floor!  The University of Victoria, in Vancouver, set up listening posts so we can hear what's happening.  But, oops... now the US Navy is not happy.  So everyone reached a happy compromise:  all audio is sent directly to the Navy, censored, then returned to the UofV so people can listen.  This is SOPA without even a chance to give input.


Got that glowing feeling?

Been to Bed Bath and Beyond lately?  Quite a large quantity of tissue boxes were produced with Cobalt-60, which is radioactive.  Standing near on of these little beauties for thirty minutes per day will give you the equivalent of several chest x-rays.

The boxes were made in India and shipped to the US, before going to the stores.  At no point was the radiation detected.  Bravo Big Sister!  Way to protect us yet again.


iSuicide?

What happens when Chinese slave labor threatens to throw itself off buildings if it doesn't get a raise?  They get laid off.  Who says the Chinese can't learn from the US?

Goofus and Gallant Go to D.C.

Rand Paul returns $500k to treasury from congressional office budget...

Obama asks Congress for another $1.2 billion debt limit raise.

Should We Continue Business as Usual?

OBAMA APPOINTS MONSANTO'S VICE PRESIDENT AS SENIOR ADVISOR TO THE COMMISSIONER AT THE FDA

Considering the fact that Monsanto just bought Blackwater, we may soon be the United States of Monsanto (by force?).  Again, it's incestuous.  Look at the appointees and long-term government employees.


Homeland Security Monitoring All Journalists & Social Media Users.  And they'll be saving the data, in case they can get you for something later on.

You got it, folks.  Big Sister will be keeping all of your social media data and it's perfectly legal.


Airport Screeners to Be Monitored for Radiation

Your memory doesn't have to be too good to recall Big Sister saying how the xray machines at airports represented absolutely no threat to the operators or victims forced to walk through them.  The xray machines that were strangely ready to go into all airports as soon as Big Sister mentioned them....


Hundreds Threaten Suicide At Microsoft Supplier Plant In China

Define `extreme cruelty'.  
At first I thought they were being forced to use Windows (I'd threaten suicide too).  No, they were demanding a wage increase.  Foxconn and China may have something to teach us after all....  and it will no doubt show up in your Xbox purchase.


Ron Paul News

CNN’s Ron Paul Reporter Admits Bias: “Worried” About Paul’s Success

You mean they're not fair and balanced, like Fox?

Does the Establishment Media Fear Ron Paul?

Is it mostly rainy in England?


Ron Paul won second place in New Hampshire.  This is his second finish in second place.  Remember that when you hear that he's not electable.  Remember that Paul's positions have been consistent over his time in office; they have not waivered or flip-flopped.  You know exactly where he stands on any issue, regardless of how you feel about it.  Try that with any other establishment politician.

Obama is a grave disappointment but not a shock.  He is simply Bush in a darker shade.  The fact is that Ron Paul does not represent the establishment, like the others.  All of these clowns are establishment pawns, ready to do the bidding of their corporate masters at our expense.   This is why the mainstream media barely mentions his name - they're terrified.  All sorts of groups are terrified and I see that as a good thing.  Voting for anyone else in the false republican/democrat paradigm is a wasted vote.

No one is perfect:  I disagree with Paul on abortion (he's against it).  He's a Conservative Christian.  We make the strangest bedfellows, yet I think he's our only hope.  He will uphold the constitution and he's the only one who will.  Bush and Obama continued the dismantling of our sacred document, right by right, chipping away with the aid of an impotent and corrupt Congress.  Romney is another lapdog who will continue the game.  Newt bends whichever way the wind blows (not to mention his failed Contract with America) and Santorum is religiously addled, among other things.

In Iowa, Paul owned the thirty and under vote.  Independents changed their registration to republican so they could vote for him.  He raises huge amounts of money and has serious internet support, which you will not hear about in the media.


Don't vote for the lesser of evils: vote for our country and our rights.

Computing for Parents

My parents are in their seventies.  Need I say more?

Actually it's kind of difficult for me, being their child and thinking the world of them, to see them floundering about with their computer.

One of the most difficult ninety minutes of my life involved talking my mother through finding a document and emailing it.  By the time we were done, my mother was mad at herself too.  I should have won some sort of Nobel prize for maintaining my composure and not having my cranium explode, spraying the general area with its contents.

No one is entirely sure why they have had so many computers but there are certain things that, if questioned, will make your head hurt unbearably.  My mother has fibromyalgia and back issues so it's very difficult for her to use a computer in the first place.  It tends to look a lot like back-seat computing, with my dad typing and my mom leaning over his shoulder, yelling.  This is a fairly normal position for my parents and it is not for me to question what works.

They have gone through quite a number of laptops.  Nobody knows why, although I suspect at least one of them is the Dr. Kevorkian of computers.  The latest laptop is quite a beauty: a Dell with a seventeen inch screen.  The thing weighs almost as much as their car, which confuses me as my mom can't lift it (the car or the laptop, one would presume).

This particular laptop came with a major virus known as Windows Vista.  I installed the lesser virus called Windows 7.   I had almost no Vista experience and discovered this was a wonderful thing.  What a screaming piece of garbage..... the install was brand new and kept blue-screening randomly.  With a nice processor and four gigs of RAM, the thing looks magnificent and absolutely crawls.  If Windows 7 performs like Vista, my parents are going to learn linux.

Linux won't be a problem for my folks, as it would be just another operating system they cannot operate.

The key to dealing with older and/or technology-terrified folks is repetition.  They have to keep using the computer almost daily.  If they fail to use the computer, they will definitely forget how to operate it.

And forget they did.

Every few weeks, I'd receive another emergency call because one or both of them couldn't get their email.  Initially this was caused by not being able to remember their password(s).  I'm a security guy - I can't let my parents not have a password on their laptop.  We overcame this by having them write it down in a place they'd be able to locate.

All was well until last week, when I got another one of those calls.  They couldn't read their email.  Anyone who has done any troubleshooting at all knows that the complaint usually has nothing at all to do with the actual issue.   "Can't read my email" can mean anything from "I forgot my password" to "I forgot to pay the cable bill."

Firing up the latop, I discovered that all was in order and the email came in wonderfully.  I inquired as to the problem and they restated it was email.  Asking differently, the question actually turned out to be "Which program do I use to read email?"

Support people also know the Second Law of Computing: if there is no icon on the desktop, the program isn't installed.

I changed the Outlook icon to read EMAIL.

I suspect that they are best off with three icons:  EMAIL, WEB, and PICTURES.  Anything else will just get them into trouble.

Poli=Many,Tics= Blood-Sucking Insects

Rick Santorum's nephew has a few things to say.  He is wise beyond his years.

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What happens when you do a background check on CNN?  You find out all sorts of interesting things.  Background checks used to be done by the media.  Now the media is merely the lapdog of the Powers That Be.

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Speaking of lapdogs, the president threw a lavish costume party but we didn't hear about it because it might send the wrong message.  The press knew but failed to inform us.

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What's in a name?  Ask Vermin Supreme, who seems to have some sound ideas on presidential elections.

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TSA defends Icing-gate

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Rick Santorum nominated accused child molester Jerry Sandusky for a congressional award.  Did the press miss this?   Guess.

It's a Gallbladder!

Yes, at approximately 12:35pm today, my wife gave birth to a gallbladder.  Mother is sore but well, father is much better because he didn't have to watch.

Everybody was really surprised, as the entire routine took about four hours, house to house.  Apparently this type of thing used to require an overnight stay and a lot of grief.

Having worked in the field, I don't like doctors and I like hospitals less.  But I have to say that the experience was not bad, all things considered.  The hospital ran like a well-oiled machine, the surgeon was on time and visited me immediately after, and the staff was competent and really personable.

For those of you familiar with gallbladders, this was apparently an interesting case.  Initial symptoms looked a lot more like gastritis than gallbladder.  The diagnosis was a bit of a surprise but we trust the diagnostician.  The tests barely showed anything wrong.  The surgeon said he only operated because of the family history.  He was shocked to find the bladder was bogged, whatever that means.  Apparently it was much worse than any of the indicators.  He said the timing was right because it might have burst in the next two weeks.

We'll take those odds.

Once again we had a reminder that you have to be up on your condition and your meds before and after the procedure.  In spite of getting about five doctors together on pain meds, the staff still questioned my wife about the meds.  She actually brings a list of her meds with reason, dose, and prescribing doctor noted in case there are any questions.  In spite of this, they still tried to give her narcotics for pain (her pain meds are non-narcotic).

In short, don't go along for the medical ride.  Question everything and go no further until you're satisfied with the answers.  The life you save may be your own.

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You know for a fact that absolutely no outing could possibly proceed without grief (hence this blog), so allow me to let loose.....

Since when do you need to show up at the hospital with two hundred dollars before you have a procedure?  Answer: since we got HMOs and since my coworkers are apparently crack addicts.

Follow this logic (if you can):  too many people were using emergency rooms as their primary care, so the insurance slapped on a fifty dollar fee for using the emergency room; waived if you got admitted.  Then it went to one hundred dollars.  I get the point- you were being penalized for using the emergency room.

I recently discovered that if admitted, there is now a five hundred dollar fee!  So now we're being penalized for being admitted, as opposed to being penalized for just appearing in the emergency room.  

When I complained to my benefits people about the fees, they told me those fees got raised so they didn't have to raise other fees.

And that helps me how?

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So I'm minding my own business in the waiting room, which is an impressive feat.  Today was especially cold, perhaps out of spite.  The hospital doors opened right into the waiting room, dumping large amounts of arctic air into the area.  

There was a very large flat-screen television mounted in the corner of the room.  You could see it from outside.  But even if you couldn't see it, you could hear it.  There was no apparent way to turn down the thunderous aural assault.  To make matters worse, there was no apparent way to change the damn channel either.

I cannot afford a flat-screen television that large.  Strangely enough, I cannot afford two hundred dollars copay for the procedure either, yet there I sat, traumatized by both.

There were several signs on the wall that I truly appreciated.  They told everyone to be courteous to your neighbors by not talking loudly, especially on cell phones.

Personally I thought it was a violation of the Geneva Convention to force anyone in a confined area to watch The View.   Perhaps this hospital never got the memo.  Next up, possibly to rhyme, possibly just to annoy, came The Chew.

I know this in spite of never having looked at the screen.  I was trying to check email and amuse myself in other ways.

It was at about this point that I got company in the waiting room.  There was one fellow closer to the television but by the look on his face, I think he was incoherent long before he sat down.  To my right was the television, to my left were two yentas.  Yenta is a Yiddish word meaning chatterbox or ratchetjaw.  So here were the perfect pair of negative Jewish stereotypes for my amusement.

But amusement is not really accurate.  Nor bemusement.  Perhaps something a bit closer to Two Hour Trip to Hell.  When I die, I figure I'm going south anyway.  If it's every bit as bad as its press indicates, hell will be eternity at Chuck E. Cheese's.

You have to understand my plight... thunderous bad tv on my right and two loud yentas to my left.  There was simply nowhere to go.  The phrase stereo assholes most accurately depicts my dilemma.

The Chew is apparently some sort of cooking show.  I would place it squarely in the Annoying Cooking Show category in spite of not watching many cooking shows.  Suffice it to say Jacques Pepin it wasn't.   What made the show more intolerable was the color commentary from the yentas....

tv:  ...we start with olive oil

yenta #1:  ooh, I don't use olive oil.

yenta #2: yeah, it's too expensive.

yenta #1: right.

I'm still trying to read something on my phone.  

tv:  we'll be right back.

yenta #1:  there are too many commercials

yenta #2:  yes there are

yenta #1:  I wish they wouldn't have so many commercials

Now I'm trying to read a book.  And failing.

yenta #1:  where do we check the status?

yenta #2:  I don't know - go to the desk.

yenta #1:  there's nobody there

yenta #2:  isn't that just perfect.  Nobody's home.

yenta #1:  there should be somebody there

yenta #2:  yes there should.  They're absolutely horrible.

yenta #1:  horrible.

I'm reading the signs up on the wall, which state to be courteous to your neighbors by not talking loudly, especially on cell phones.  I was thinking of repeatedly pointing to the signs but I had no way of knowing if either of them could read.  And by this point the other guy was looking even more glazed over than before.  I'm not positive but I think he killed himself rather than having to listen to the yentas for another minute.

And I felt a sudden pang of jealousy.

yenta #1:  oh my God, it was eight minutes.

yenta #2:  eight minutes?

yenta #1:  eight minutes before they went to commercial!  I timed it.

yenta #2:  so you need to pick up his prescription?

yenta #1:  yes, on the way home.

yenta #2:  [groan] how long will it take?  

yenta #1:  i don't know.

yenta #2:  you know you can't just take a prescription in and expect it to be filled on the spot.  It doesn't work like that.

I noticed I was reading the same paragraph over and over again.

yenta #2:  is he done yet?

yenta #1:  wait, let me look at the board... it says he's in ABC1.

yenta #2:  what does that mean?

yenta #1:  wait, let me look again.  Maybe he goes to ABC2 after.

yenta #2:  go find someone and ask.  Sheesh.

yenta #1:  there's nobody there.

yenta #2:  still?  This is terrible.  You'd think it was their job!

And if I shoot them, I will be the bad guy.

yenta #1:  it's very cold out.

yenta #2:  yeah, well, they shouldn't put the door so close.  Am I taking you to the pharmacy?  Maybe you can tell them it's an emergency for the sick patient in the car.  Because if I have to wait, you're walking home.  They should have told you this up front.

yenta #1:  they did tell me.  They gave me prescriptions.  Oh no - another commercial.  I forgot to time it this time.  So many commercials.

Some argue religion.  Some argue supreme beings or deities.  I am here to tell you that angels exist, ladies and gentlemen.  I saw my first one today.  Yes, she was dressed in scrubs so you couldn't see her wings but she was an angel all the same.  She stepped into the waiting room and asked if the yentas were there to pick up Steve.  The yentas said yes and stood.  It was at this precise moment that I could see her halo and golden light filled the room as the yentas prepared to get the )$*# out of my waiting room.

It saddens me that I shall never again see a sight as beautiful.

At that point, all I had to do was wait.  And listen to soap operas in my right ear.

Another Exercise in Futility - Guitar Center

I had to order a small p.a. system for work, so I went with Guitar Center.  Ever since, they have been sending me email.  Lately I hear from them more than my own family.  I am desperately seeking a way to order my dream Custom Shop lefty Strat through them and have the company pay for it.  From what I hear, it won't be the first time.

But I digress.
Always.

I am obviously a person who does not learn through repetition.  The great majority of my trips to Guitar Center end up in disappointment, yet I keep going back; like a battered spouse, hoping the outcome will be different.

Some of my online buddies have been making noise about the Fender Mustang series amps.  The real troublemaker in the group discovered that he could hook the amp to his computer and edit the presets deeply.  Like dominoes, others in the group went off to purchase these amps.  And they're having a lot of fun with them.

These particular amps have two strikes against them (at least in my game):  they have no tubes and the software does not run on linux.  That aside, the smallest (Mustang I) is tiny and goes for a hundred bucks.  Not a ton of money for a decent-sounding amp for the living room.  Further research showed that there is rudimentary functional software for linux and that it got good reviews.

So I figured what the hell - GC is always sending me email.. why not pay them a visit.

I located the amp in question but had to hunt for a lefty Strat with which to try it out.  The store had exactly three lefty guitars.  This is my personal hell, akin to my very own Monty Python cheese shop sketch.  There sure are a lot of guitars on the wall....

Got stuck with a new Standard Strat.  It sure looked nice but playing was another story.  Maybe I'm spoiled but I haven't played a new Fender neck I liked in more years than I care to remember.  It was like holding some other instrument that wasn't a guitar.  They put this neck on everything.  Don't even get me started on how Fender wires the pots backwards on new guitars.  Counterclockwise should be down, not up, guys.

The Mustang was definitely a cute little toy.  I didn't have a ton of time but it definitely sounded like it was at least worth the price.  Naturally as I was trying to tune the guitar, others were trying to play louder.  I have yet to pick up a guitar (in a store or at a gig) where another guitarist didn't step all over me.  I am not competetive (volume is inversely proportional to talent) and don't play loudly so I don't get on others' nerves either.

I tracked down the nice saleslady, who was kind enough to leave me alone as I tried out the amp.  I'm not used to being waited on by women in guitar stores, for better or worse.  She was rather attractive, except for the army boots, but none of this matters unless she knows what she's talking about.  I told her I'd take the amp.

She told me there weren't any.

Huh?

Small wonder I had such a difficult time finding one: there weren't any.  Only the demo, which didn't have the accompanying books, software, and ephemera.

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Understand: I am not really upset - just confused and amused.
It seems that I leave Guitar Center disappointed most of the time.

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The Guitar Shop - starring John Cleese:


Do you have any lefties?

Not really.

Do you have this $100 practice amp?

Ummmm..... let me check.....  No.

This is a guitar store, right?

Yes - finest in the land.

By what measure?

It's very clean.

Yes, it's certainly free of guitars and amps.....

We could order you one.

There sure are a lot of guitars here.

Yes sir - thousands.

And barely a lefty.

You could try playing in a mirror.