Why Do People Do The Things They Do?

Sometimes, I am completely mystified by the things people do to their pets. Here's a good example.

OK, so maybe this is their way of "expressing creativity." Give me a break!

This is starting to sound like Andy Rooney isn't it? And another thing....

Go to any major university book store. Go to the section where they sell sweatshirts and team spirit items. I will bet you there are at least four or five "uniforms" for your dog or cat....in different sizes yet!

I need to get a grip. I'll be back when I calm down.

Stuff Father Time Wants

Disclaimer

Don't worry. Father Time hasn't gone materialistic on you. This is, once again, one more ill-fated attempt at humor, using The Fly as my foil. In all honesty, I recommend you stop here and pursue something meaningful, like taking inventory of your toilet paper supply, or waxing the dog. You'll find it's time well spent.

The List

Here goes:

A wooden hand plane so I look good when I mutilate things in my workshop. Notice the actual picture instead of cheesy "links" that take you to parts of the Internet rarely seen by humans. Now check out The Fly's list.
I rest my case.



A 5 quart stainless steel saucier so I only have to wash one pan when I cook. Right now I use one to saute, another to make the sauce, and another to combine the ingredients, and finally a dish to serve it in. Four vs one? Makes sense to me.

That's It!

See how easy it is? When you have everything, you don't need much.

Now,compare my list with The Fly's list. It drones on endlessly with stuff from the UK, things that you need when you get into combat (with whom?), CD's by groups that have never had musical training, TV reruns, and books by guys that are dead.

Who knows? Maybe I'll invite The Fly to a debate on materialism. It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel.

Nothing New Under The Sun?

Never Say Never
Back in the early 60's, I had a chance to work on some GM prototypes that had monster rear wings and front air dams, not unlike the ones shown here.

Historical perspective - GM was being pushed by the new generation of "safety-ites", who felt the big boats GM was building were unsafe due to "poor handling" (and that's the polite way to say it!)

So the R&D boys sent us some Electra 225 4-door sedans with wings and air damns, similar to these, except, to be perfectly honest, about half the size. We all had a good chuckle since GM's standard guidance to it's engineers was that any innovation had to be "commercially acceptable."

Without a doubt, our prototypes were sorry examples of anything anyone would buy. But we tested them anyway and sent back data showing improved handling at 80+ mph. At that time our little group conceded that none of us would ever see anything like those monstrosities again.

So "Never" Came To Be

When I saw these pictures I realized that the word "never" comes with time limits! Somebody, somewhere will always prove you wrong if you use "never" in a conversation.

And another one bites the dust!

And You Thought The Last Post Was Ugly!

OK, so I'm not Yul Brynner; even Popeye is better looking.

Mother Time is going through chemo right now so a couple of us decided to join the "no-hair" brigade. Good idea at the time. Bad idea in execution.

Hmmmm, speaking of executions - oh never mind!

Even Uglier News!

Father Time's 50th high school reunion in Michigan occurs on September 8, 2007, which begs the following questions:

Do you think enough hair will grow back that the airlines will let me board without running my fingerprints through an FBI database?

Do you think that the flight attendants will draw straws with the loser having to wait on me?

Will my former classmates call 911 when I show up at the reunion?

Will my relatives in Michigan disown me?

Hey! What would life be like without a few challenges?

The correct answer is "Pretty sweet!"

Father Time's Early Warning System

Why is this man NOT on somebody's wanted list?

This is a picture of The Fly.

Why this picture is not posted on some website that specializes in warning people of animal predators, nudist camp rejects, or offspring of famous hit men, is a complete mystery to me.

After viewing this picture on the blog Thus Saith The Fly, I am compelled to warn all my decent and non-dysfunctional friends (both of you) that this is beyond scary. It's scary at a level that even exceeds the spectre of world-wide terrorism.

What are the consequences of viewing this photograph even though your rationale mind tells you something this hideous cannot be real?

Take heed my friends and do not look at this picture for an excessive amount of time. In shock, I allowed my eyes to view it for more than 30 seconds. I am now completely color blind and have fuzzy vision, even without consuming a couple of glasses of Chardonnay or a pint of Guinness!

That's powerful.

Conclusion (Finally)

The world we know has changed. When one sees something like this and realizes it is looking at the future, one can only conclude that suicide is a viable option afterall!

Tribute To A Great Lady 1924 - 2007

Cleo Loreen Griffith - Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great-grandmother.

She will best remembered for her love of people, especially her immediate family. Her husband Bill, who died in 1980, was the love of her life. However, when Cleo became a grandmother, her need to love found an outlet in her first grandchild. She became a grandmother three more times and spent as much time as she could with all of them. And, since she lived next door to all four, they always knew where to go for cookies, ice cream, or someone to bandage their little cuts and scrapes.

Cleo was warm, caring, and fun-loving. She loved to dance, listen to music, talk with friends for hours, laugh and plan pot-luck dinners. Her reputation for cooking earned her a reputation as the “Queen of Comfort Food.” She also loved to knit, crochet, and do needlepoint. Everyone who was close to her owns one of her famous Afghans. She had an eye for color, and could always be depended upon to produce bright colorful blankets that are considered heirlooms by her family.

However, Cleo was also infamous for her knitted slippers that she always gave her family at Christmas. Now, if they had been used to keep feet warm, that would be considered normal; but, when we all learned they were fantastic for sliding across large expanses of waxed wooden floors, a whole new sport evolved! Once everyone had their slippers on, the running, racing, and sliding would go on until someone crashed into something or broke something or, as was the norm, the slippers wore out!

Cleo was also her grandchildren’s favorite philanthrophy! Every school raffle, candy or cookie sale, or field trip could depend on Cleo’s generosity. When her grandchildren needed to sell anything, they knew Grandma was a complete softy, and would buy anything they had to sell. An addded plus was that it was cookies or cand, most likely they would get them back in a week or two as a present. In short, Cleo was the grandmother from heaven that every kid hopes for.

When two of her grandchildren moved with their family to Albany in 1986, Cleo followed shortly thereafter, declaring, “No stranger is going to baby-sit MY grandchildren!” Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and birthday found Cleo sitting at her daughter's kitchen table, consuming potato chips and clam dip,(and on a rare occasion Bourbon and Seven) and offering advice on how to cook the best turkey gravy the world has ever known.

And finally, Cleo was best known by most of us for her sense of humor. Even in her final days, when she was declining rapidly, she loved to joke and kid with the staff who were her caregivers. Even though she was a mere shadow of her old self, she was still the great lady most of us remembered; a woman who filled so many lives with joy and laughter.

Cleo was one of a kind and will be sorely missed by all of us. Heaven is a better place today, if only for the improvement in its turkey gravy!

Ma' Truck

Cool eh? To haul bark dust, just pile up 10 or 12 bags from Home Depot. No muss, no fuss.

I need one of these NOW!

Contact!

Found The Key, Turned The Ignition, and Started The Engine.

I think my engine is working again after a short period of burn-out. The grieving process takes longer in some of us.

Tomorrow I will go back to semi-regular posting.

Tomorrow I will release some pent-up issues that have been building for the past 30 days.

Expect some goofy cars, verbal assaults on The Fly, and the usual off-the-wall stories of life in the slow lane.

How's that for "pent-up?"

The Plan

I recently received an e-mail asking me if this blog was dead. My usual smart a-- reply was, "Only if you think it is." Personally, I have not ordered an atopsy yet. Nor will I. It's just the grieving process is taking longer than I thought.

My mind is now bubbling, once again, with at least 52 new ideas. Coming soon to a blog near you!

Out.

Time Is Of The Essence

FDA Warning - Don't Read This If You're Young!

An important part of a retiree's life is good use of time management skills. I, like many other retired people,(I'm sure), had the mistaken idea that I would be flooded with available time to meander around doing whatever I pleased. Boy was I ever wrong!

To date, I've completed about 12 items on a list that I prepared in 2003 when I retired. Unfortunately, I've added 66 new items that have a higher priority. If they all fell into one category, like reading, or making more furniture, or catching more trout, I would consider things under control. But such is not the case. Almost every item is distinct, unique, and unlike any of the other items. The good news is almost every "to do" item is something I would enjoy, and hence the joyful part of being retired.

Note to self. Maybe I'll try attaching long-range time frames to my list and see how old I'll be when everything has been completed. My game plan calls for moving on to my next stop - whether it's earth-bound, interplanetary, or ghostly, in about 20 years. That's the last item on the list - and it will never move.

Out.

Father Shall Return

A slowdown in the seemingly endless numbers of family issues is in sight - at least to the degree that I should have time to post some more nonsense from my dysfunctional mind. I don't know about you, but that is good news as far as I'm concerned.

(Re-reading what I just wrote, I couldn't help but notice all of the "casual talk", I.E. as far as I'm concerned and I don't know about you. Delete all of that conversational stuff and you simply have "Good News!")

Out

Patient, Recovering Patient, Caregiver, Chauffer, Cook, Housekeeper, Appointment Maker, & Bill Payer

Notice something missing in the title? Like blogger?

In the words of that famous American military hero and war strategist, The Fly, "I shall return."

This Is Not Supposed To Be A Weekly Blog

My apologies for the lack of posts, but right now my life is a full freaking oyster! An immediate family member in the final days of her visit on earth, an ailing spouse, and my previously noted "minor procedure" at a local hospital; am I a fun guy or what?

So, as is our custom here in the Pacific Northwest, when one wants to make amends, one offers food! (How about that segue?)

Enjoy!

Return

After a couple of days in our local hospital (enjoying what is laughingly referred to as a "minor procedure"), I'm back and feeling great. During my stay I was pleasantly surprised to discover hospitals have finally figured out a few things about customer service.

First, everyone I dealt with was friendly and extremely courteous. Second, everyone wanted to know if I had any questions before they left. It's amazing how much more comfortable one is when one knows what the hell is going on with all the tubes, bags, buzzers, monitors, etc.

My third discovery was one of the best - a meal menu that would make any good restaurant envious! When I was hungry, I picked up the menu with its formidable list, and called room service. Within 10 minutes my meal was delivered by a smiling "waiter" who always checked to make sure it was prepared the way I requested. And finally, the food was GREAT! Unbelievable!

The only downside to the whole experience was a nurse who awakened me at 2:00 AM to find out if I was in pain. (When's the last time you slept soundly when you were in pain?) Some things never change but the good news is - I had to look for something to complain about. And that is really great news!

Where Is Father Time Now?

Have you ever looked at the calendar and said, "What happened to the last two weeks?" I find this happening more and more. In fact, I just noticed the date of my last post - February 7, 2007. So in my situation, what is the answer?

Let's see; first on the list is my Hospice volunteer work. Two patients plus a member of my immediate family equals almost three hours per day. Day hikes around the area to stay in shape for warm weather backpacking season, about two hours/day. Taking care of my kid's dogs while they're in Hawaii, who knows? On average at least an hour/day. Since we have a Sheltie, the addition of a Pug and a long-haired Chihuahua creates the trifecta from hell.

Woodworking? Maybe two hours a week right now, but that time is about to explode exponentially! New wood and furniture repair projects are starting to occupy too much room in the shop, so the cure is simple. Get your butt out there and start making sawdust! Oh ya.

Finally, blogging. Maybe ten minutes/day to read and look for comments. Actually, considering the number of comments I receive, I can add ten minutes to my cramped schedule by skipping that activity completely.

What happened to reading, research, and writing? Zilch. But enough complaining. I don't have time.

Happy trails!

Once Again The Fly Scoops Father Time

Why am I always the last to hear about cool new cars? Yes, The Fly ambushed me again with this picture of his new ride.

I am SO envious!

Annual Picture Of P-38

Father Time's Place was officially one year old in November 2006. This means tradition now becomes an element requiring action on my part. I, therefore, have no choice but to recognize certain "features" (tongue-in-cheek) deserving of annual recognition at this hallowed site.

With that in mind, I'm again posting a picture of my all-time favorite aircraft, the Lockheed P-38 Lightning. If gasoline wasn't so expensive, this would definitely be my commuter vehicle of choice. Incidentally, this is not about bombs or machine guns or weapons of mass destruction. It's about a truly innovative and incredible piece of aeronautical engineering. And it's cool!

Long live tradition. (Yes that's a play on words, but what else do I have to do with my time?)

Coming attractions: a much requested repeat of the "NO TOMATOES" chili recipe and another chapter in the life of NASCAR Sister.

Pacificism Vs Reality - Part 1

Pacifism Vs Respect For Tradition
OK, I confess. I'm a pacifist at heart. Why? Because many years ago I concluded the need to fight was only a primitive survival tactic left over from our cave dwelling days, and was no longer something intelligent people needed to do in order to survive.

I expect someone out there will say, "Father Time are you suggesting that people who say their survival is dependent on their willingness to go to war are not very smart?"

"Kinda sounds that way doesn't it?" the old man saith. But, let me qualify my response by saying the question is an oversimplification of the real issue. Sane people do not sit idly by and let someone beat them down. Sane people will use whatever tactics are necessary, including fighting, to defend themselves from their attackers. And intelligent sane people use force as a last resort. Notice, I said last resort. I did not say the threat of force, but the actual use of force when all other avenues are closed. There's a BIG difference between making a threat and actually unleashing the dogs, and that is where we go awry.

But, you might ask, "What about those who have served and died in wars while protecting our country?" My answer is simple - I have nothing but respect for them. The courage and patriotism they demonstrated deserves the highest honor this nation can bestow upon one of its citizens. If I was Commander-in-Chief, the Medal of Honor would be presented to every veteran (or surviving next-of-kin) who ever served honorably in combat defending our nation.

Having said that, and knowing that I too served, albeit peacetime duty, why would I embrace the concept of pacifism? For one simple reason (and now we have come full circle); war is symbolic of our primitive instincts.

My reading and research indicate I have a degree of support for my theory. Some of the most learned scholars from both ancient and modern times embraced a philosophy of non-violence.

Note: Part Two will discuss some of people who are known for embracing the concept of non-violence. Part Three will survey some folks who believe war is as natural as breathing, and Part Four will conclude with What Is A Just War?, (Thanks Fly). This all depends, of course, in my not losing interest in the whole topic and going off on the evils of backpacking or something even more heinous.

The Yin and Yang of Wheels

Some of you may remember I worked for General Motors in my post-college days. Therefore, the wonderful world of cars will always command a place of honor at Father Time's Place.

Which naturally brings us to the subject of wheels. The trend these days is to feature bigger and bigger rims which supposedly reflect the owner's desire to compensate for his/her shortcomings. Thus, we see cars on the street like this Dodge Magnum, a model whose name alone reflects the owner's comfort with his/her masculinity. Ahem!

Therefore, once again, it's up to Father Time to be a trend setter, as seen in this great photo of a Chevy Impala with - tiny wheels! I ask you, if cars are an extension of one's ego, why not be honest about it!

And yes, there ARE wheels on this car. Just look closely. They are there. The good news? You can carry about 24 spares in the trunk. Believe me, you'll need all of them.

Weapons Of Mass Operator Destruction

Father Time did a turn with the Army in the early 60's. Luckily, we were between Korea and Viet Nam, so my combat duty consisted mainly of getting up at 4:00AM on Monday with a raging headache from Sunday night's training exercises at the Blue Goose in Leesville, Louisiana. I knew serving my country would be tough but this was beyond the call of duty!
At any rate, one of our most "feared" weapons was a 106mm recoilless rifle mounted on the back of an ordinary jeep. Being an engineering student in civilian life, my curiosity was aroused when the term "recoilless" was used to discuss this fearsome, yet brilliant, product of our best military minds. (Remember, mind altering drugs were in vogue back in those days!)

This cool diagram shows the principle of 106mm "rifle." Note that a large portion of the gases produced by the explosive, exits the rear of the gun, offsetting a portion of the recoil that is normally present in any weapon that hurls a huge projectile out of its barrel. So, it has to have some recoil in order to eject the projectile - absorbed by the jeep, but best of all, it would fry anyone standing behind the weapon with hot exhaust. We tried using the exhaust gas to roast wieners, but for some reason, we just ended up with a burnt stick and no hot dog! Life was not looking out for our best interests!

With a straight face, our training sergeants told us that this Jeep/106mm combo was a feared "tank killer." Strategically, we would drive the Jeep into raging combat, aim the 106mm at a tank, fire, and take off before the tank could fire back. Right! Rumor had it that the crew of this unbelievable weapon had a combat life expectancy of about 45 seconds!

At this point Father Time's brilliant mind went to work and came up with this! Since it was a foregone conclusion the crew would die in a matter of minutes, what if we mounted the 106mm on a motor scooter? We could cut the number of casualties in half!

I submitted my idea to the Army Weapons Lab on February 6, 1961, and am still waiting for an answer. Patience is a virtue.