(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 (?)
My own Father was not a hugger (of other men). Perhaps it was his generation (b. 1916), or time in history. But for him, a firm handshake said it all. A man’s word is his bond was often something implied in the handshake. Whether the word meant agreement to an implied contract (Yes, I will clean up my room), welcome (Welcome home, son, good to see you!), or even LOVE. (no verbal statement made)
As a result, when it comes to interaction with other men, I welcome a firm, dry handshake – as described numerous times in Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels. Not simply gripping the others hand with the tips of the fingers and thumb, but full engagement – thumb crotch to thumb crotch (or whatever they’re called). Not the (again, intoning Mr. Fleming) slimy, wet, limp grip of the Middle East, which makes a man want to wipe his hand on his coat tails, either.
It has come to pass that scientists have determined over-use of soaps, antibacterial hand cleaners and sanitizers have weakened our respective immune systems. In the effort to ‘keep clean’, we have invited more resistant microbes into the mix.
And now, scientists (I wonder if they are the same ones?) have determined the following:
I remember when I first saw the ‘fist bump’, as part of a ‘cool’ ritual of Black youth. Instead of shaking hands (as the White Devil slavemasters had done) they ‘checked in’, sometimes additionally bumping forearms and even hips!
I thought it was well, stupid then, and my opinion hasn’t changed.
Then, a popular comedian and game-show host began fist-bumping. He said it was because of his aversion to spreading or receiving bacteria. (I wonder if he kisses or has other personal contact with women?)
NOW, such behavior is reaching the mainstream (as shown in the news item, above).
I can see not wanting to shake hands with someone who is openly infectiously diseased. That’s just prudent. But fist-bumping like a hipster is just silly.
I know, I’ll probably die younger because of it.
But, my word remains my bond, and I’ve no other way I can comfortably express that.
And, I like hugging and kissing women, too! :-)
Must be generational.
The littlest of the three chee-hooa-hooas, Lola, is now six months old, and has grown from under two pounds four months ago, to a powerhouse of almost SIX pounds! :-)
She successfully survived her hysterectomy (with a barely visible scar) and now is content terrorizing the large boy dog (DJ), who is probably 15-20 pounds. Yes, he’s a throwback, every genetic trait one doesn’t ask for in a chihuahua. Including massive size.
But, he’s a big, stupid, happy lummox and we love him.
Lola is VERY bright. Try to lure her into a trap (like her kennel for the night) and she’ll fall for the bait. Exactly ONCE. And never again.
She also has an Early Warning System, if she’s penned up and wants out to ‘do her business’. We didn’t train her to do this – she trained us.
I’m usually awake around 0600-0700. Shower, dress, morning stuff and blog. And when the mistress-of-the-manor is absent, Lola bivoacs in MY room.
A Sample Morning
0600 – I Awaken. Kissed by a tiny dog who has been watching me wake up, who then curls up in my armpit and snuggles back to sleep. Then she produces 61,000 btus, forcing me to arise. (Well, that and my impatient bladder!)
0605 – Shower. Lola must be kenneled, lest she join me in the shower. She doesn’t require a bath daily. I do. Besides, I might accidentally step on her!
0615 – Dress. Lola remains kenneled, half or completely asleep, or sometimes therein quietly watching me check my email and blog.
UNLESS, NATURE CALLS HER!
Me, sitting at the computer, tiny kennel on the adjacent bed, containing tiny dog. All is quiet, except occasional keystrokes and the ever-present fan. (This IS AZ, after all!)
Suddenly there is a tiny, tiny bark. Not particularly high-pitched, but very slight in volume, as if distant outside. Usually no response from me. (We designate this DOGCON 3)
Then, a slightly louder bark, perhaps 20 seconds later. This is obviously from inside the house; inside my room. More apparent urgency (DOGCON 2)
(Followed by, if I choose to ignore it…)
DOGCON 1 – a loud, piecing, deafening bark, threatening immediate negative consequences unless she is allowed paper access IMMEDIATELY! This usually also agitates my chronic tinnitus!
My usual response is to get up from my desk, open the kennel, and she jumps up to my chest, sometimes my shoulder – and I carry her to the bathroom, containing the all-important morning paper.
And all is shortly right with the World!
(Until the tiny kitten Belle is heard screaming outside the bedroom door to be included in the blog process (aka walking willy-nilly across the keyboard). Please note, I usually learn from this and ignore her!)
(Obviously, an epidemic of hard drive crashes!)
Now the EPA has also lost emails due to hard drive crashes?
GEE, I wonder if I told the IRS MY tax records were lost due to a bad hard drive?
When I was a P.I., working the Bob H. at T.E. & A (enough initials for you?), I remember getting cases that had little information with which to start, but soon, all fell into place. And others that appeared to be a slam dunk, only to get mired in something complex and nerve-wracking.
I remember sharing my observations about all this with Bob, and he responded, “It’s never as easy as it looks.” I told him we should have a sign over the squad room with that very saying.
Fast-forward from 1981 ’til today. Here I am, post car repair. My 2000 Olds Intrigue has been rapidly deteriorating over the past couple of months, in need of new front brakes and some-kind of engine-repair, minimally, just to keep her road worthy and safe. (She also needs two tires, and A/C repair, but, those will have to wait. :-( )
I just don’t have the funds. I live paycheck-to-paycheck on my disability.
My dear roommate offered to front me some funds to get the necessary repairs done! We got the car into a local garage of good reputation, and waited. Turned out the engine problems were the result of the old ignition switch failing. We opted for the generic switch over the factory ($300 difference!) and this gives me one key for the door, a second for the ignition. No big deal, right?
Well, not exactly. These are not your grandfather’s ignition switches. Seems they are having difficulty getting the security of the key to match the security programmed into the car. Or something.
It’s never as easy as it looks! And all this to make a 15 year old beater drivable again.
(Update – I got my car back, ignition switch now working, and engine running better than before, but not like new. The brakes have been replaced, but the dashboard brake light comes on after about 20 brakings and stays on until the car sits for about 20 minutes(!) Of course, it’s SUNDAY, and the earliest I can get back to the garage is Tuesday.)
It IS never as easy as it looks!
(Update Two – I bought two ‘gently used’ tired for the front, as the ones I had were paper thin. Good news – they hold air, and are balanced! Bad news – my right front wheel has two partly stripped lugs. So I’m running on four instead of six. It’s always something.)
(Update Three – my SES – service engine soon – light went on when I dared drive FIVE miles, yesterday!)
“Here’s a line of peasants leaving Rancho Malario, to make room for YOU!” (from the Firesign Theatre, having little to do with the following post… NO, where I live is NOT Rancho Malario!)
Well, my lovely roomie has decided to move her unfinished, unrestored, ’62 Chevrolet Corvair Wagon to it’s proper place in the resident’s storage lot immediately West of our townhouse! (I’m certain complaints about it being an eyesore to the HOA from anonymous, whining neighbors had nothing to do with her decision.) Her dream was to have it fully restored to cosmetic and drivable condition, but, unfortunately, financial considerations got in the way.
(This was a car she and her last husband acquired and drove together in the 90’s, before his untimely demise in an industrial accident. As such, it’s a proper memory of him, and represents why she hasn’t just sold it to some collector.)
This means I’m able to move my recently-made-drivable 2000 Oldsmobile Intrigue to the second spot under the resident’s covered parking, and out of the direct sunlight! In most regions, this would be no big deal, but in the sunny Valley-Of-The-Sun (temperature today 105) this is a BIG DEAL!
Especially as while drivable, the Olds remains un-airconditioned, so every little bit helps!
In other news, my roomie is leaving today for her sister’s in California for a well-deserved vacation and to conduct some family business. This means once again, I am the Dog (and Cat) Wrangler! – now with Puppy!
Not a problem, as they love me and I them, and this gives us a break from each other.
AND I GET TO PARK IN THE SHADE – WOO-HOO!
There seems to be a plethora of local news stories of late regarding persons driving the wrong way down local highways and impacting other right-driving persons, sometimes fatally. (Phoenix area)
PHOENIX — Three fatal head-on collisions caused by wrong-way drivers in the last week have caused Arizona law enforcement and transportation officials to hold an emergency meeting Sunday on how to deal with the problem.
The latest fatal collision occurred early Sunday morning when two people were killed after their car was struck by a wrong-way driver on the Santan Freeway in Gilbert, Arizona Department of Public Safety officials said.
The fatal crash is the third head-on collision caused by a wrong-way driver in six days that have claimed the lives of seven people — including an off-duty police officer (USA Today)
It came out that alcohol was involved in one of the crashes, and hasn’t yet been ruled out in the others.
And now, with State-legal medical marijuana paving the way for general legalization…? Don’t give me that “I’ve never known anyone on weed to drive poorly” speech. I’ve seen them and I’ve known them. Impairment is impairment.
And if they still don’t enforce the DUI/DWI laws for alcohol (because, you know EVERYONE drives after 3 or 4 drinks, especially politicians), what happens next?
At least Wrong Way Corrigan was skilled and never killed anyone!
(This doesn’t mean I’m against alcohol and marijuana use. It means if you are impaired – don’t drive. With this holiday weekend looming I thought this was a good thing to mention. Because Memorial Day is all about partying, right? :-( )
I’ve recounted before in these pages how I am at best a proto-geek. I knew and know geeks, nerds and geniuses, and pal around with them, but never made the cut with regard to technical knowledge.
(Much as I am with car mechanics – I know where the brakes are and what they do – I just cannot repair them!)
Yes, things have improved from fledgling Guffaw in the 80’s with his Timex-Sinclair 2k computer. And from the 1992 286 machine with a 300 baud dial-up modem. But this computer/Internet jazz is still in it’s infancy.
If I turn on the television or the radio, it works! I don’t have to replace parts or fiddle with it’s innards to get it to work correctly. THIS is my hope for the evolution of the whole computer thing.
I did ‘something’ to Judy’s printer (with her generosity we share) with regard to the wireless settings. The short answer is it no longer works, wirelessly. As we both have physical issues, running up and down the stairs to see if something printed is a problem. So, we connect (or try to) wirelessly through our router, and viola, printouts! Until I messed something up!
I spent hours searching the Internet for answers, but, to know avail. I finally decided to bite-the-bullet and buy a newer printer. After much research, I found a similar model, with even simpler wireless connectivity, and doled out the funds. Thankfully, they’ve gotten even less expensive!
After a minor snafu with Amazon Prime (two-day shipping isn’t always) I received the printer, and set it up. The computer itself told me it was correctly set up, and PRESTO!
SO, I spent over TWO HOURS with an East Indian Help Desk tweaking the computer, the printer and my brain. STILL nothing. Finally the techoguru (who spoke perfect English, but with a VERY heavy accent) said I should change the settings on my firewalls, or even turn them off!
And, of course, there was little knowledge I could use from the Internet, as I AM NOT A GEEK!
And it STILL says it’s correctly connected and IT STILL WONT PRINT!
GOOD NEWS UPDATE! After all of the above trials and using suggestions from the comments (Thank You!), AND removing one of my firewall programs (there are others), AND reloading the drivers, I now can FINALLY PRINT!!
(courtesy of Joe Huffman)
Gun owners are hostile to having guns registered and requiring a license to own them. The fear of having that data in the hands of the government is justifiable. Not just stories like the Belgian Corporal from 75 years ago on another continent but the stories in present day from Connecticut, New York, and California.
Now we have conclusive evidence that car licenses are also subject to abuse.
It’s time to treat cars like guns. No more registration.
H/T To Tamara K. for the retweet of Kirk Freeman.
Uh, wait a minute?
You mean a free people should have a right not to be tracked incessantly by the State-run computer system? Their vehicles should be able to move freely without encumbrance, unmolested? Untracked? Unrecorded?
WHAT IS THIS, THE
GERMAN DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC? UNITED STATES?
Whenever I have posted too many serious posts in the past, I remedied doing so by posting a few guffaws, e.g. jokes, cartoons and funny pictures. To lighten the mood.
AND, because it’s MY BLOG! :-)
Again, I’ve posted a litany of serious posts, mostly regarding governmental abuses. And it’s got me down. But, instead of guffaws, I decided to invoke Rule 5*, instead:
SIX of my favorite women! SO many choices…sigh.
*Rule #5 Post – Celebrating Women