The Bird

This would be the only reasonable response to expect from Tony Alva, after commenting on his shorts.

Wompin' Wagon Finale

Evidence that the Wompin' Wagon was capable of whuppin' ass...

That is all I got on this old warrior.

Tubular, Dude

Alva and Hackett have me thinking that every pair of shorts I own are, like totally, too long.

Dude.

Also left thinking that my hair is too short.


God, I feel like such a square, man...

Yoot

When I was just a yoot, I could play with HotWheels and Matchbox cars for hours - days even.

I probably still could, now that I think about it...


In my head it was kinda like this, only not in LimeyLand.

Firearm Safety Friday

Don't go off half-cocked.





Stay cocked and locked.

Bonneville

It is that time of year again...

The season when folks haul themselves across a flat stretch of salt as fast as they can.



Know what is missing?

You and me, brother.


Hell, it's almost over.

Somebody died this year.
Tipped over a car at over 200mph
Tragic...but I suppose there are worse ways to go.

Another guy up'd the carburated, wheel driven, streamliner record, if I'm not mistaken.
Topped 300mph.
That's about twenty five miles per hour faster than where the bar was.
That is fast.

My pal and occasional source of hotrod advise drug his partially completed car out for the inspectors to look over.
He'll be taking a swing at putting his name in the books next year.

Most all reports are that it has been a damned fine year on the salt.



Maybe next year...

Remarkable

Am I the only person thinking that folks have overlooked the most obvious source of these earthquakes off the coast of Japan?

I mean c'mon folks.

Have you completely forgotten about frickin' Godzilla?










We all know Godzilla didn't move to New York, in spite of that insipid most recent Godzilla movie.

No, Godzilla lives off the coast of Japan...
You know, like where the earthquakes are happening.

Two plus two here, you guys!



I bet Godzilla is redecorating.

Wompin' Wagon Wednesday

Next week - Action Shots!

Health Care Reform Explained

There has been a lot of "vigorous" discussion recently on the subject of the proposed health care reform initiatives. It is a complex subject which seems to generate strong opinions in nearly every American.

Yet the depth and breadth of issues which plague medical-industrial complex and the bill being championed by Congress are so shockingly complicated that actual debate about positives and negatives has been reduced to a shouting match.


It is exciting that a political conversation can so invigorate my fellow electorate into the town hall equivalent of a mosh pit.
Everyone from the gerrymanders to the geriatric seem to have some violently passionate point they wish to share with their fellow citizens with tremendous verve.


It occurred to me that much of this might be as a result of either confusion or misinformation regarding the proposed health care reform initiative.

As a leading expert on nearly everything, I feel the need to help America understand the White House vision of our nations health care system.



In the most simple terms, it is entirely based on Star Trek.









President Obama is a member of the Star Trek generation.
The impact of Roddenberry's vision of a future society based on equality and service to one another should not be glossed over.


With that, and the passage of the proposed legislation, each and every American will be issued a uniform of closely fitted, synthetic clothing.

This will help our citizens see the similarities we all share and will also contribute to our desires to lead healthier lives.
How so, you ask?


The pants will, in fact, make our butts look fat.


Our collective vanity and the power of peer pressure will have us all going to the gym more often, taking walks, working on our abs...


There has been a lot of talk about rationing, in the debate about the debated bill.
It is true, there are many Americans and only so much funding for this type of system.

There is some discussion that the forthcoming uniforms will involve some color coding, which will help determine where one is prioritized in the allocation process. The details in this part of the bill are one of the few items remaining unresolved, at present.

Preliminary drafts have suggested that the uniforms variations will be of either yellow, blue or red jerseys issued on the basis of ones importance in the furthering of the American ideal.
Or something like that...
As I mentioned, it is still in the revisions phase.

I am sure that will all sort itself out.

I am hoping that I don't get stuck with a red shirt, as blue really brings out the color of my eyes.




I am going to go off on a bit of a tangent here, with some unsubstantiated stories regarding the President.

I have it on good authority that Mr. Obama is actually the son of Nichelle Nichols and William Shatner.
They are, in fact, members of Star Fleet and fell in love at a remote outpost-Deep Space Station: Hawaii.
Following the birth of their love child, it was decided it would be quaint to raise him in the twentieth/twenty-first century.
Shatner and Nichols piloted a space ship at time/space warping speed on a course around the sun to bring their son to a perceived better, more simple time.
Their commitment to the ideals of Star Fleet and continuing demands on that service led Shatner and Nichols to find a suitable foster family for their young son.
Reports are that they continue to commute to the future for work, but prefer to reside here in our present - so that they might see their son grow to be a man.




I hope this has helped you understand the dynamic intricacies of the debate and also some of the motivations that have gotten this giant shit ball rolling.

You are welcome.

I am glad I could be of service.

Moist

Yeah that is the creepiest picture ever, huh?

Eesh.

I am not sure why I felt the need to gross both of us out with that.


I was really just thinking about the weather.
Not here...the weather here has been great.

But, man, just a stretch west of here things are going on.
Typhoons, tsunamis and tropical storms.
All at once.

Things are more than moist on most of the Pacific Rim.


I read that moist is a word that makes most people uncomfortable...one of the lesser favored words in the English language.


Perhaps this post is my own subconscious attempt to drive away all four of the regular readers here.

I will stop, now.

Baseball

Finally getting to a game.
Somehow, I always think that I will make it to more games.
Today, I am going to catch my first of the season.


Man, I love baseball.

Last year we got a bigger TV, and I can sorta watch baseball at home.
It is just not the same, though.
You gotta go to the park to really enjoy baseball.

Ever since the first time I went to see the Indians play Detroit, back when they were at the old stadium (shared with the Browns), I have loved going to see some ball.

The Clippers, in Columbus.
Whatever that farm team is called in Portland, oh, The Beavers - who play in a stadium shared with the local high schools.
Caught a few Twins games, while there on work.
The Braves are fun to see at home.
KVC and I fell in love with the Mariners and their park - I think Ichiro may have had something to do with that.

Now we're here in SF.
Yeah, the A's are here too.
I haven't been to an A's game, sorry to say...

Once you go to see the Giants, in AT&T Park, it is hard to think of better venue.

Sorry A's, we'll visit someday.

Today it's an afternoon game, SF vs. Cincinnati.
Lincecum has got his arm going this year, but we'll miss him today.
It seems like the rest of the line up is getting it together, a little.

Up against the Reds who are having a bit of a tough year...
I cannot think of the Reds without thinking of Pete Rose and Johnny Bench, though.
They were the team to pull for, when I was a boy, so I might have a soft spot for 'em still.


I don't really care who wins today.
I just want to experience the game.

That is the best part.

The nine dollar beers, eating a big ol' hotdog and getting mustard on my shirt, maybe some garlic fries.
Oh, peanuts...gotta eat a bag of peanuts.

Then there is the stadium with its smells swirling around you. The spilt beer, cut grass, faint pish and dirt scents carried on salty sea air.

The crowd, standing up for the big play, yelling off the bad call, cheering!
Sun in the eyes, seering the nose.

The sound of the bat slapping a poorly considered pitch foul.


We'll be there.
A few rows up from third.
KVC is bringing her glove, to shag that foul.



Ah, summertime and baseball.

For me, summer officially starts today...