Not really. But close!
WordPress software informed me yesterday that I now have 300 (three hundred) followers of Guffaw in AZ!
This means three hundred folks actually pretend to want to read stuff I have written (or have
stolen borrowed). This is a far cry from the initial 10 (#10 being North, the first follower unknown to me from the Internet only) since I began blogging March 6, 2011.
I do recognize some of the number are folks who play Facebook games, ‘friending’ me that I might friend them back. But, it’s been a few years since I was in junior high. Hopefully, they actually read the blog, regardless.
Of course, I am still surprised ANYONE does.
This whole blogging thing continues to be amazing. I’ve had commentary and/or email from folks in the Americas, Europe, Asia, including a woman blogger in Pakistan!
And service personnel everywhere! Thank you and all veterans for your service!
And thank you all for stopping by.
I remember a time, not that long ago…
When Canada was thought of as the weak sister to the North of The United States. Still symbolically tied to a monarchy, NO Bill of Rights, The Mounties were the FBI on steroids, high taxation to pay for their universal health care (wherein many folks came HERE for more-timely surgery), and their jeezly nickels and pennies kept finding their way into OUR change!
They did make good beer, and had a quaint way of verbally punctuating with the syllable ‘eh?’ though. :-)
NOW, an American fast-food giant, Burger King, has decided to move their HQ North for better taxation!?
I do hear about the Yukon and The Northwest Territories largely ignoring gun control edicts from Ottawa, to the point where they reversed their rifle registration scheme. So there is some hope.
Just think – if they adopted OUR Bill of Rights, we could move there and with a population akin to the U.S. in 1860, and a still largely polite society, we could have Utopia.
A COLD Utopia…
Hey, a guy can dream…
Yeah, it’s a song title, above.
Sometimes, I get down on myself, because I once had a wife, a daughter, a home, a ‘career’.
No wife, no daughter, no ‘career’ (I’m disabled). I DO
have share a home, though.
And that’s my point.
Living Freedom recently had a posting entitled
It mentioned traits of folks down-on-their-luck who, if they are not thriving, do more than just survive.
I could have been worse off than I am. I lost my home as my income decreased, and a good friend took me in.
But, that’s not my point.
MY POINT IS I’M GRATEFUL FOR HER HAVING DONE SO!
Certainly, I wish things could be different. It would be nice to have a wife, to have my daughter back. To have my house back. To have the income I once had.
But, not being a child, I know wishing doesn’t make it so.
So (most days) I choose GRATITUDE!
(courtesy of my friend Borepatch)
One of the members of our dojo used the skills he’s been practicing for years. It happened suddenly. It happened in his back yard while his wife was outside doing yard work. A car being chased by the police hit a fire hydrant on the corner of their street and the driver bailed out running.Steven looked out the window at the sound of the crash, saw the guy coming at a run into the yard, and went outside. I don’t know if the man was just trying to run past them, but Steven reacted to the perceived threat to his family.
The link calls it a tackle. Heh.No one was hurt, the police were already on the way, the man was cuffed in less than a minute after he was pinned. The suspect has a criminal record stretching back 15 years.
I had been waiting hoping the TV station would post the whole interview, but all the link has is the text of the news article and the 45 second teaser.
The learnings that were shared with me:
1. It unfolded very fast.
2. There was not a lot of thinking.
3. People that don’t practice falling don’t fall well.
4. The expanded awareness and sense of calm only seemed remarkable after the fact.
5. And I quote, “Aikido works!” (the first words he said to me when he told me about it)
But, I was reminded of two things:
1) Bruce Lee (when asked to invade a bad guy’s lair, unarmed) said, “Why don’t your just take a .45 and blast him?” (Enter The Dragon)
2) Posse Comitatus – a cop orders a passer-by to ‘stop’ a fugitive (meaning to tackle or trip him) and the guy pulls a gun and blasts him!
It’s good our Aikido practitioner was alert, but might have been better had he been armed.
Just in case (?)
I remember walking home about a mile-and-a-half (in the Summer heat, in Tempe, Arizona) the day of the Moon landing, with friends Jim and John, after bowling a few lines @ Tempe Bowl. The RED CARPET Lounge, in the bowling alley, had an exterior sign missing some letters. As we were irreverent high-schoolers, it was always the Ed Carp Lounge to us!
We came home to watch the history on our televisions.
Interesting that there is a direct line from JFK asking we land on the Moon ‘in this decade’ (certainly as a technology/arms race with the Soviet Union), to the Moon landing, to further development of solid-state technologies leading us to personal computers, the Internet and cellular telephones.
We didn’t know the half of it watching Neil and Buzz!
But we were proud.
h/t Theo Spark
(one of my Dad’s expressions, usually when another – unwanted – opinion was proffered)
My roommate is an animal lover. As am I. The difference being I usually consider ramifications of finances, interaction with other animals, available space and other factors before introducing another animal into the menagerie.
AND, I’d ask her opinion.
So, day-before-yesterday, she advised she’d an errand to run. I did as well. Separately. Imagine my surprise when she texted me a photo of a tiny kitten!
Now, I love cats, perhaps even more than dogs, because they are less maintenance and aren’t codependent, as dogs are.
The end result is another rescue (Lola-the-chee-hooa-hooa was rescued a little over six months ago)
She is 2 1/2 months old, very pretty, and stands up to the other dogs and the big cat with the best of them.
How could I say no?
(attn Murphy’s Law – her name is BELLE, and she likes salsa!)
Boy, am I a sucker! :-)
(Sorry. I don’t normally utilize geekspeak any more than I do ebonics – Guffaw)
America’s Vanishing Historic Movie Theaters
by David Rosenberg
During the golden age of Hollywood, the excitement of going to the movies wasn’t only about seeing the stars on screen. It also meant spending time at the neighborhood movie theater, an architecturally ornate center of the community’s social life.
Photographer Stefanie Klavens has long been interested in 20th-century American popular culture, specifically its aesthetic qualities, and has created a photographic series of iconic movie palaces titled “Celluloid Dreams.”(…)
Please click here to see the entire article and collection of fantastic photographs of days gone by.
I love living in The Valley of The Sun (except when it’s over 107) but, old buildings here were built in the 1920’s (until back East when it could be the 1820’s – or earlier! Sadly, many folks here seem to think progress means destroying anything over 50 years old – at least some things, like the Orpheum Theater, are designated historic sites and immune from destruction.
And they are still being used today!
Nope. I’M not missing…
But, with all going on in the World as of late, guffaws on this blog certainly have been!
With that in mind:
click to embiggen…
Well, my roomie is expected back from visiting her family next week. In her absence, I’ve been ‘holding down the fort’, policing the livestock and being the puppy wrangler.
Most of which has been relaxing and rewarding (at least some of the time!) :-)
But, I’ve also engaged in a small project which I’d not done in some years: I started a beard!
I’ve grown (and subsequently shaved) facial hair, in various patterns, since I graduated high school. I started shaving when I was a sophomore, and grew my first mustache right after graduation.
And shaving has been a pain-in-the-*ss ever since! (I know, this means I’ve been doing it wrong.)
But, with a quasi-law-enforcement career, much of the time, mustaches were frowned upon, and beards prohibited. Afterward, they simply became facial adornment until I tired of them, or until I tired of looking at my naked face in the mirror.
My last full beard was in the 90’s, which I shaved off to become Woody Harrelson’s character in Natural Born Killers one Halloween. I also shaved my head and sported fake tattoos. (I always went all out @ Halloween).
When I decided to grow back my facial hair, I was shocked and surprised – it was coming back in largely WHITE! I would NOT be Santa Claus! So I went back to shaving. (Once-upon-a-time it was brown!)
Over the past ten years, I had a mustache and goatee, and after J. and I broke up, the goatee went away. Now that she’s been away for a couple weeks, I thought I’d give it another try and surprise her. (I know, growing a beard in the Summer is stupid!)
Regardless, here I am, two-weeks-in, no razor or scissor having touched my face.
J. is scheduled to return this coming Monday. And she doesn’t always read GiA.
But rather, My Breakfast with Murphy’s Law!
This new-fangled Internet thing is a fantastic place! Not only do we get to have stuff delivered by The Brown Truck of Happiness ™ after a few clicks of a mouse (funds or credit permitting), get to communicate via Email, text, and Skype, but sometimes we get to develop friendships unheard of only a few years ago.
I am speaking, of course, of meeting persons we otherwise previously might have no knowledge of. Like fellow gun bloggers!
Sure, we can speak on our cellular telephones with such folks, and that too is very cool. But sometimes they have the means to visit our communities old-school.
And we get to break bread together.
Murphy’s Law and I have exchanged numerous emails over the years, and commented on each other’s blogs. I was fortunate yesterday to have him pass through my little berg and take me to breakfast!
@ 0700 (Yikes!) He originally wanted 0600!
To be fair, he was on his way South, and wanted to cross the bulk of the desert before the heat of the day. As it was 108* here, yesterday, I completely agreed.
We met at a local, independent diner not far from where I live. We compared notes about our lives, disabilities, guns and such, and had a great time.
I only hope (as I don’t have the financial means to travel) that he’s able to stop by again some time. Perhaps in the more temperate months? (hint, hint).
As we say here in the Southwest (if we’re sick-and twisted. as I am): Vaya con queso*, my friend!
*go with cheese