Guffaw in AZ
not guns
“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”
We all remember THIS guy. He gave friendly advice, not just for children, but for all of us.
Mr. Rogers
How well do you know your neighbors? Or do you even know them?
I currently rent a room in a townhouse. The neighbors to the immediate South (sharing the common wall) have a practice of going into their backyard (just over a fence) and SCREAMING with each other about family matters. I think it’s a mother and daughter, and some male hangers-on of some sort. This sometimes happens well into the night. Then, someone ‘over there’ is up early, like 0545, and makes a practice of throwing a bowling ball down the stairs, bouncing it off the wall in the process (again, common wall) REPEATEDLY.
(At least, that’s what it sounds like!)
This is in direct opposition to the North neighbors, again a mother/daughter team. We rarely hear anything from them through the common wall, and they never seem to be in their adjacent back yard. The word on the street is, however, mind your Ps and Qs, if mom spots someone parking crooked, or spilling trash, or some other small infraction, she will SCREAM. To the Homeowners Association, at least. And THEY will contact you.
I know these all folks on sight, and wave, all friendly-like, and sometimes even say “Hello”. The neighbors North of the North women seem to be a nice couple. He even helped J. corral one of her dogs when she ran loose (a favorite game – ESCAPE! Wheee, I’m FREEE!), when J was unable to catch her.
I think I know the first name of the North neighbor mom. That’s it.
In my former neighborhood, I made it a point of knowing my next-door neighbors, the one across the street and across the alley behind me. Just in case.
The Art of Manliness again addresses this issue. In short, it says knowing your neighbor is lubrication for civilization. Much as being polite can defuse friction.
I remember my childhood neighborhoods. All the kids on the block knew each other, and so did all the parents. If you did something wrong, not only did the neighbor yell at you, but, by the time your returned home, your parents had received a telephone call from said neighbor. So you got it, again. And, you could run to any neighbor’s home for help or safety.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have neighborhoods, again?
Adventures in Burgers, Dogs and Beah(s)
I hesitated to post this, as most gun bloggers who post about food post about fine food: seafood, chili, gourmand cuisine. Think Brigid, and many others.
I like to cook, and am not half bad at it – traditional American fare: lasagna, deep-dish pizza, steak, hamburgers, hot dogs. Baking. Some sugar-free stuff. But, with my various infirmities, standing and cooking usually isn’t a pleasant experience. (I need to eat more salads, anyway).
So, I’ve taken to finding foods I like near my new digs. Mexican food, bar & grills, pizza. Usually accompanied by alcohol (or diet soda 
). Much depends on how close it is to ‘payday’.
We used to frequent a pizza place near my old house. Our favorite waitress appeared to be a recovering tweaker from Boston – always pronounced beer as beah, so we adopted that. For fun. (Yes. sarcasm and mockery are our stock in trade!)
Of late we (my roommate and I) have found a couple new places. One had excellent burgers and fries – at steak prices, and 52 craft beers available. We took immediately to Mr. Pineapple Ale, then found out the 
craft beer was $7.00/pint!
As much as we liked the food, we went on the hunt to find Mr. Pineapple, and found it at another place we have been known to frequent. For $4.50/pint! Have three beers and you’re saving money! (see what I did there?)
The problem is, the food at the cheaper beer place, while good, is not as good (or as costly) as the expensive beer place. They do have 1/4 pound BACON-WRAPPED hot dogs, though!
A friend recently gifted me with a fine single-malt Scotch. Perhaps I should just stay home with that.
I’m certain my doctor would agree.
Probably without the dark chocolate, though…
FTC – San Tan Brewery gives me nothing. Now go away!
‘Of all the vehicles I’ve loved before…’
The lovely Tamara had a recent post regarding personal vehicles, with political stickers there-a-fixed. The consensus among correct-thinking-folks is to maintain a low profile. No longer is a pro-gun, gun rights or even a libertarian rear plaque or bumper sticker deemed appropriate.
At the very least it’s considered non-tacticool. Don’t want to alert potential auto-burglars of the Glock possibly stuffed under the seat in our absence! (One of the Bob’s had one stolen outside a coffee shop in broad daylight!)
In my callow youth, I owned a number of nondescript cars, mostly with libertarian bumper stickers attached. Never had a problem. One did read ‘Question Authority‘. Never had a problem during traffic stops for not current registration.
But, as the 90s appeared, and political clouds foretold of personal liberties being trashed (the Clinton Assault Weapon Ban, for example), I opted to be less visible. Not concerned with the bad guys (criminals) as much as the bad guys (government). And I attached fewer stickers.
After the accident, I acquired my dream vehicle – a 1989 Isuzu Trooper. Molly and I had been looking at them, as the ‘gee, perhaps one day’ car to take us to the desert to shoot. She never got to see her, but she paid for her.
She was christened Molly’s Trolley with a dash placard. And once my time payment Life Membership to the NRA was paid off, I affixed an appropriate sticker on the driver’s wing window. Remember those – wing windows?
But no other defilement was allowed. Low profile, in a silver 4×4 with a cammie spare tire cover. Yeah right. And many trips were made to the desert, and to friends in New River. And other places.
My youthful dreams of joking magnetic door signs reading ‘ANFO Distributing‘ never happened. And I never even considered the ubiquitous gun show sale bumper sticker, ‘Vote From The Rooftops‘.
I did see (once, during the Nixon years) a sticker on another car reading, ‘Where is Lee Harvey Oswald When You Need Him?‘
I don’t think that would fly, today. No one remembers who he was.
h/t Siddhartha, Tam
Technology – Retro and Otherwise
We are living in a miraculous time - technologically speaking.
Having recently acquired a new (to me) smart phone, I’m still learning and appreciating all the things this appliance can do for me. Thus far: alarms to remind me to do stuff, answering questions via Internet, checking Email, taking photographs, watching TV and even making and receiving calls (!)…all from a lightweight, flat device which fits easily in my front right pocket.
I even downloaded a Kindle app, and have a couple books to read, if a real one is not available!
As I said, miraculous!
A friend sent me evidence of yet another technological miracle, below:
| AMAZING TECHNOLOGY FROM JAPANYou will not be able to know what is ahead until you have seen the 4 pictures and read the explanation of what they are. Our future is here. Incredible!! What an age we live in. Look closely and guess what they could be. Are they pens with cameras? Any wild guesses? No clue yet? Ladies and gentlemen…. congratulations! You’ve just seen something that will replace your PC in the near future. Here is how it works: In the revolution of miniature computers, scientists have made great developments with blue tooth technology. Can anyone say, ‘Good-bye laptops!’Looks like our computers are out of date… again!!! |
Amazing! Although I like the tactile feedback of a real keyboard. I’m old-school, remember? :-)
Speaking of which, I was looking for accessories for my new toy cellular telephone, and ran across this:
THIS is a dock in which to place my cell phone to allow me to use it like an old land-line telephone. What?!
Everything that’s old is new again!
PS – I’m not getting a retro-phone dock.
h/t Carol
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (Phone)
I’m kind of an old-fashioned guy. Or should I say old-school. I still like revolvers.
But, this doesn’t mean I’m a luddite. I DO appreciate what technology brings us. Anesthesia, antibiotics, magazines that hold more than 7 rounds…
And cellular telephones. Brought to us as a result of the Space Race.
I bought my first cell phone at a gun show (quelle surprise!) in the mid 90s. Why? Because I spent more-and-more time in the desert, and thought (presuming service was available) that modern communication was preferable to walking in 20 miles, if my then 8-year-old Isuzu Trooper failed.
And, just like advances in home computers, I’ve grown to appreciate the advances made in cell phones. But, with my financial condition, I was never able to afford anything past the basic flip phone. And I’ve kept them long past their expected life span. Two in eight years. My last one was on four years, had a screen failure, and was over her contract. I was paying month-to-month, not able to improve my technological lot.
Until 10 days ago…
My roomie, a savvy businesswoman who lives and runs her business on her smart phone, decided she wanted to upgrade her phone to the new Apple IPhone – and she asked me if I wanted her ‘old’ smart phone! At first I balked, because I was unfamiliar with the operation (okay, it scared me a little), and I started trolling the Internet looking for new smartphones. Then, I saw their price!
Okay, you got a deal! She got her Apple, and I got her htc One S. And yes, Virginia, it IS a steep learning curve! But not insurmountable.
The fact that I can surf the Web, check all my email accounts, take wonderful photographs, do text messaging (which I loathe), and even make telephone calls is amazing! AND, if my four-year old-PC fails, in a pinch, I can even write this blog from there! That, and check email without climbing stairs – which is a good thing with my disabilities.
Thanks, J. for your kindness and generosity!
PS – I like semiautomatic pistols, too!
PPS – attn FTC, neither htc nor Apple gave me anything. Go find your own phone!
A Cut Above…
Collectors Weekly takes us back to another time – to a more elegant weapon.
“When I got this sword, it was completely covered in blood rust.” Sword maker Francis Boyd is showing me yet another weapon pulled from yet another safe in the heavily fortified workshop behind his northern California home.
“You can tell it’s blood,” he says matter-of-factly, “because ordinary rust turns the grinding water brown. If it’s blood rust it bleeds, it looks like blood in the water. Even 2,000 years old, it bleeds. And it smells like a steak cooking, like cooked meat. I’ve encountered this before with Japanese swords from World War II. If there’s blood on the sword and you start polishing it, the sword bleeds. It comes with the territory.”
Swords, sword history, swordmaking, swordcraft. This is the domain of Francis Boyd, swordmaker extraordinaire.
a 2000-year-old, 100 layer sword in his collection
I’m fascinated by weaponry. Especially that which I might be able to own and actually employ. Sadly, while most equipment is now out of my reach, I still enjoy the appearance of fine craftsmanship. The long dedication of the master gunsmith or sword-maker. No plastic here! (Sorry Gaston Glock!)
You should go to the link above and learn. I did.
“If there’s blood on the sword and you start polishing it, the sword bleeds.”
h/t Miss Cellania
A Girl and MSgtB – What a Team!
A Girl and Her Gun tells us of a story from MSgtB. A boy and his dad, and the boy has cancer.
Being disabled, not a man of means and spending much of my day on the Internet sometimes gets me to whining. The state of the Nation, our rights being systematically eroded, yatta, yatta. And me with my own petty health issues – which I won’t detail here.
But here’s a kid who has his whole life ahead of him. And his dad will shave off his ubiquitous (since high school) mustache to raise $500. $500 for his son’s care.
$500! Are you kidding me?
I can’t afford to contribute, but you can do so here or at MSgtB’s site above. Let’s see if we can make it $5000!
h/t A Girl, MSgtB
Gotta Love Computers! NOT!
So…here I am. Just pluggin’ along, doing my daily blog, checking email, the usual…
When suddenly, I start getting error messages on Outlook. To wit:
A script on this page may be busy, or it may have stopped responding. You can stop the script now, or you can continue to see if the script will complete.
Script:
Whatever the HELL THAT means! (I am not a geek – I only play one in the blogosphere!)
So, I do the standard remedial stuff…reboot…run malware software, run security protection software, update malware software and re-run the LONG version (4 hours+)!
Nothing, nada, bupkis, the big goose egg…no viruses or malware found. Still getting error messages every few minutes on Firefox. Look for solutions on the Internet. Nope.
SO, I do as I said I would never do. Crawl back to Internet Explorer 9. And upgrade it to 10. And start using that.
*sigh*
I miss Firefox.
And IE10 is not without it’s bugs. *double-sigh*
Suggestions?
This Just In - After failing to properly ‘repair’ FF, and being sick of IE 9/10 silliness after a few days, I downloaded CHROME. I’m not a big fan of Google, but it seems to be working flawlessly and without a hiccup. Thanks for all your suggestions! - Guffaw
One Night @ the Bar & Grill…
SO…the roomie and I sometimes frequent a neighborhood watering hole cum eatery. The beer is cheap and the food (while not Brigid worthy) is pretty good. Above standard bar fare (e.g. bacon-wrapped salmon on a bed of risotto!).
But they have the ubiquitous AZ statute-approved sign for hoplophobes posted upon entering:
Which some unidentified patrons ignore. Unidentified to protect the guilty. Otherwise, if unposted, one could be armed, not consume alcohol, and remain legal. Your State law may very.
Fast backward to the other early evening.
sample, not as actually worn
Roomie and I find a booth, order a couple of beers and food, and she takes note of the pool/poker area behind me. There’s a guy wearing a frock coat, a tricorn hat (!) and what appears to be a cutlass!! The coat kinda-sorta covers said cutlass, some of the time, but no attempt is being made to conceal it.
Now this irritated my roomie, as certainly the Arizona bar statute referred to lethal weaponry, not just firearms. (it doesn’t – just guns!) Ignoring the fact that some of the aforementioned folks were carrying firearms and knives, concealed. SHHH!
But the other patrons and bar staff didn’t seem to notice or object to said cutlass, or the tricorn hat. Nor did they object to the folks carrying concealed guns and knives. Of course, they didn’t know about those. After a time, the swordsman left. No one knows when the other patrons departed.
I was unable to see if Mr. Tricorn had his trusty steed double-parked, or what?
Not our boy, by a longshot!
Would you like to be a Senior?
Would you like to be a Senior?
So, after we (my roommate and I) went to WallyWorld for some grocery shopping, and came home and rested, I remembered a couple things I forgot. And a couple my roomie forgot.
I took it upon myself to return, this time to the truncated WallyWorld, instead of the Mondo one. En route, there was an Albertson’s. Smaller still, and perhaps less crowded than WalMart. I went there.
After picking up most of the forgotten items (note to self – make a list!) I arrived at the register for check-out. The nice lady with the extremely high, grating voice asked me, “Would you like to be a Senior?“ I didn’t quite understand her and asked her to repeat the question. It was still difficult to understand, both in speech and context. Then she explained, “It’s Senior Discount Day, are you a Senior?”
Now, I’ve not been a Senior since 1970, so I think I qualified. And I wasn’t insulted when she further explained one must be 55 to qualify.
I saved over $7.00 on a $28.00 order! It’s good to be the King – or, at least a Senior!
(Naw – nothing like that happened – I’d need more than $28.00 for that!)
