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Bob Dylan Arrested, Police Officer Says “That’s Not Bob Dylan”

(From the ‘News of the Weird’…)

Bob Dylan likes to wear hoodies in public — it helps him stay inconspicuous. But this time, it led to his detainment.

Bob Dylan Arrested, Police Officer Says “That’s Not Bob Dylan”
Caleb J. Murphy June 29, 2017 I Love Rock N Roll No Comments
Bob Dylan likes to wear hoodies in public — it helps him stay inconspicuous. But this time, it led to his detainment.
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
On a rainy night back in 2009 in some New Jersey suburbs, police responded to a call about an “eccentric-looking old man” wearing a hoodie wandering in someone’s yard.
Police officer Kristie Buble was the responding officer.
“We got a call for a suspicious person,” Buble told ABC. “It was pouring rain outside, and I was right around the corner so I responded. By that time he was walking down the street. I asked him what he was doing in the neighborhood and he said he was looking at a house for sale.”
When she detained the man, he said his name was Bob Dylan.
“Now, I’ve seen pictures of Bob Dylan from a long time ago and he didn’t look like Bob Dylan to me at all,” Officer Buble said. “He was wearing black sweatpants tucked into black rain boots, and two raincoats with the hood pulled down over his head.”
So she started questioning this man.
“Okay, Bob,” she asked him. “What are you doing in Long Branch [New Jersey]?”
He said he was touring the country with Willie Nelson and John Mellencamp.
“So now I’m really a little fishy about his story,” she explains.

Bob Dylan likes to wear hoodies in public — it helps him stay inconspicuous. But this time, it led to his detainment.
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
On a rainy night back in 2009 in some New Jersey suburbs, police responded to a call about an “eccentric-looking old man” wearing a hoodie wandering in someone’s yard.
Police officer Kristie Buble was the responding officer.
“We got a call for a suspicious person,” Buble told ABC. “It was pouring rain outside, and I was right around the corner so I responded. By that time he was walking down the street. I asked him what he was doing in the neighborhood and he said he was looking at a house for sale.”
When she detained the man, he said his name was Bob Dylan.
“Now, I’ve seen pictures of Bob Dylan from a long time ago and he didn’t look like Bob Dylan to me at all,” Officer Buble said. “He was wearing black sweatpants tucked into black rain boots, and two raincoats with the hood pulled down over his head.”
So she started questioning this man.
“Okay, Bob,” she asked him. “What are you doing in Long Branch [New Jersey]?”
He said he was touring the country with Willie Nelson and John Mellencamp.
“So now I’m really a little fishy about his story,” she explains.
Bob Dylan
photo via The Odyssey Online
Then she asked him for his ID, but he didn’t have any on him. She asked where he was staying and he said in a tour bus parked at a hotel by the ocean.
She found this very suspicious.
But she went along with his story as her training taught her. She asked him to take her to this hotel, so she put him in the back of her cruiser and off they went.
“To be honest with you, I didn’t really believe this was Bob Dylan,” she said. “It never crossed my mind that this could really be him.”
Buble made small talk on the way to the hotel, never believing a word he said.
“He was really nice, though, and he said he understood why I had to verify his identity and why I couldn’t let him go,” she said. “He asked me if I could drive him back to the neighborhood when I verified who he was, which made me even more suspicious.”
But she pulled into the hotel parking lot and what do you know — there were huge tour buses parked in the lot. Also, Buble’s Sargent was there waiting for her.
“Sarg,” she said. “This guy says he’s Bob Dylan,’”
The Sargent looked in the window.
“That’s not Bob Dylan,” the Sargent said.
But they went over to the tour buses and knocked on the door. Soon enough, Bob Dylan was able to prove his identity to Buble and her Sargent with his passport.

“Okay,” Buble sheepishly said. “Um, have a nice day.”

h/t Crazy4Rock

There is, of course, a larger message here.  (One’s opinion of Bob Dylan and the misspelling of Sergeant, aside…)

Persons being ‘detained’ because they cannot identify themselves.

Do you have to carry ID with you at all times? – link

The U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that these kinds of laws can be legal, as long as the officers had reasonable suspicion to detain you in the first place.

And how sad is THAT?

When I took a Criminal Law course (back in the olden days) there was a then famous case wherein a subject was walking along along a beach with no ID.  At 0300.  The police stopped and questioned him, as he appeared ‘suspicious’  Seemed he was carrying a large beach ball, and wearing swim fins!

He wasn’t harming anyone or anything.

(This may have been the case that made it to the Supreme Court)

Turned out, the subject was a local city councilman testing the police’s authority!

My point is, in a free society, we shouldn’t have to ID ourselves, unless the police have at a minimum reasonable suspicion of a crime having been committed nearby.  OR, probable cause you might be a viable suspect. (and NO, I am NOT a lawyer…)

“Papiere, bitte.” (translation, “Papers, please”)

From the history of that country who brought us those Nazis everyone is talking about!

No Good Deed…

You know the rest!

With both my roommate and I having infirmities and physical limitations (along with no longer being 22!) sometimes things get procrastinated about, or just ignored.

One of those things is our back ‘yard’.

Living in a small townhouse, the yard isn’t particularly large, but my roomie, with her love for the flora, has numerous plants, both potted and in the ground, which sometimes require tending.

And between recent other adventures and doctor’s appointments, the yard has not seen proper maintenance.

And a number of ‘volunteer’ plants have been added to the mix by Mother Nature.  Like lantana, which has taken over to the extent we cannot reach the hose bib or electric box!

Now, there is a time constraint, as her first shoulder surgery is scheduled for March 21.  And I suspect nurse will be added to the title chief cook and bottle washer for me.  And, with her right arm immobilized for a minimum of six weeks, her physical abilities will be severely limited.

So, Thursday last, I carved out some time in the morning to take a stab at the yard.  Because it was necessary. (It didn’t help a number of massive fronts were coming in from California starting Friday!)

My target:

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(the white structure on the right is a non-functional Jacuzzi – now a plant stand)

I popped a significant pain pill, waited for it to kick in and headed out.  Wishing in all seriousness I had a machete ala Indiana Jones.

I had a rake, a shovel, and a weed-eater.

The plan was to work until it was done – no excuses!  Then, the pain pill wore off.  At about two hours.  When not involved in manual labor, they last four or more!

So much for THAT idea.

BUT, I cleaned up 75-80% of the yard, obtained access to the bib and the utility box (getting stabbed byagave-americana the century plant at least twice!), and trimmed back the palm tree by the back gate as to only get attacked by one palm frond, in lieu of three.

With palms like these, who needs anemones? – Thelonious Monk (from the liner notes for the Dave Brubeck ‘Take Five’ album)

More obviously needs to be done.  But that’s for another day.

And Friday and Saturday I paid for my good deed…

My arthritis kicked in big time, as did muscle pain, general tiredness and malaise.

And my doc wants me to limit use of NSAIDS, having over-used them for the past twenty years or more.

SIGH.

Other Night(s) as a P.I.

(Believe me, not nearly as exciting as it sounds!)

People not in ‘the business’ often get their ideas of private investigation from movies and television.

“I’m a P.I.”

“OH! Like MAGNUM!”

Oft times, it’s more like “Oh, like a bean counter-security guard!”

Case in point.  I’m working out of a P.I. agency cum polygraph business.  The owner is a retired Phoenix Police detective.  My boss is Bob Hall (later of gun store fame).  And Bob and I have done surveillance, security, security surveys, records checks, photography, interviews, taken statements, served legal papers, located missing persons, found hidden assets – all manner of private investigation related duties.

Then there was the tank farm.

Out on the South Central part of West Phoenix lies a tank farm.  (51st Ave/Van Buren) Wherein pipelines of gasoline and related products arrive to the Valley for distribution to local gas stations.

chevron_tank_farm_water_quality_201311_10_web-1

Once a rural edge of town, it’s now more centrally located.

Fortunately for us, whose office is just by the State Police offices at 23rd Av. and Grand. (in 1986).

It seems a rural gasoline hauler has been filling up at the tank farm, and their numbers don’t match with the fuel taken.  Hmmm.

SO, we as P.I.’s (keep thinking Magnum) get to monitor all fill-ups of these fuel trucks at the farm, compare the receipts with the pump readings, and note any discrepancies!  Whenever these guy arrive to fill up.  4 PM, Midnight, 4 AM.  Whenever.  They call when they are about 45 minutes out…

And I think they had eight trucks.

Which kept three or four private investigators busy…

Woo-Hoo!

Over a period of like two months.  Any day or night.

True, for the company, there was mileage + hourly for multiple investigators.

But, for the investigators, it was insanely boring, and tiresome.  And much comp time was taken for driving from home to the tank farm, watching and monitoring some yahoo fill his tanker truck for 20 minutes, and driving home.

Three hours? Starting @ 0200.

Well, we were young and foolish.  And hungry for money.

I’m not young, anymore.

Food For Thought (from Facebook)

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Hmmm…
While I’m philosophically libertarian (small L), I’m not certain the current national Libertarian Party embodies my personal views.  Or that of the party I first registered for in 1976…
But, I get Laura’s point.
Sort-of.
I’d an email exchange with a democratic socialist (who is a dear friend and reads this blog) following Gov. Johnson’s faux pas, who said she had been considering voting for him, but, now was forced to consider Secretary Clinton.
Jokingly, I responded it was too bad she was choosing the lesser of three weevils.
Her response was Vote for Cthulhu!  Why pick the lesser evil?
😁
I fear she is doing precisely that!
(In a World where many elected officials take an oath, but have no idea what The Constitution even means (or are committing perjury), and won’t stand for the Pledge of Allegiance or the National Anthem (their right, of course…) )
(Of course, there is always the Chicago Cubs’ manager – on my sidebar (bumper sticker sales for charity!)

Who Am I?

I’m having a bit of an identity crisis.

I was born white, which makes me a racist.

I am a fiscal and moral conservative, which makes me a fascist.

I am heterosexual, which makes me a homophobe.

I am non-union, which makes me a traitor to the working class and an ally of big business.

I am older than 55 and semi retired which makes me a useless old man.

I think and I reason; therefore I doubt much that the main stream media tells me, which makes me a reactionary.

I am proud of my heritage and our inclusive American culture, which makes me a xenophobe.

I value my safety and that of my family; therefore I appreciate the police and the legal system, which makes me a right wing extremist.

I believe in hard work, fair play, and fair compensation according to each individual’s merits, which makes me anti-social.

I, and my friends, acquired a good education without student loans and no debt at graduation, which makes me some kind of odd underachiever.

I believe in the defense and protection of the homeland by all citizens, which makes me a militarist.

Please help me come to terms with this, because I’m not sure who I am anymore!

And now I don’t know which bathroom to use anymore….

H/T Doverthere, Theo Spark

Border Patrol’s Website Offers Advice On Eluding … Border Patrol

From Joel

What administration writers put on the border patrol web site will amaze you!

Seriously? You clicked on that? *sigh*

Yeah, I’ve got nothing but clouds and rain this morning, as I had nothing but clouds and rain all day yesterday, and I won’t even pretend to be cheery about it. Too early in the day to start drinking, I may go back to bed.

But because TUAK isn’t the government or its MSM joyboy, here’s some truth in advertising:

Border Patrol’s website offers advice on eluding … Border Patrol

Just a hunch that the rank-and-file of the BP are chomping at the bit waiting for the current administration to vacate.

UN – BELIEVABLE !

“We Must Do SOMETHING!”

This seems to be something inherent in humanity.

When a crisis occurs, we want need to do SOMETHING!  ANYTHING!

Even though so much of our lives is out of our control…

“There must be something we can do?”  (After someone had passed, to comfort the survivors) “If there’s anything I can do?”

And, of course, after tornadoes, hurricanes, fires, or riots, or a mass shooting (or stabbing, as recently in Sacramento)…

We must do SOMETHING!

It makes we, as humans, feel better about our powerlessness.

“I KNOW!  Let’s pass another LAW!”

When did we become so disconnected from how things work that we think ‘the government’ passing yet another law (which are selectively enforced, if at all, anyway) will solve any problems?

Bank robbery is already illegal.  Let’s make it even more illegal by passing laws restricting the kinds of firearms the robbers might steal to use!

“Double-secret probation!” – Dean Wormer (Animal House)

I have an idea.

First, lets undo the glut of useless, poorly-written laws clogging up the books since the first gun control (prohibiting freed slaves from owning firearms) was passed in 1809.

THEN…

Let’s let people protect themselves and others from those who would threaten harm.

As we used to allow do:

Protecting our families with hope while evil has guns is not protecting our families. We are in a gun fight and some do not want to give us a fighting chance.

John Croom's photo.

John Croom

1973, a student and teacher guarding a Delaware high school after someone called in a shooting threat during a morning class. Juniors, seniors, and teachers went to their cars and trucks to grab their guns, and guard the doors between classes. No shooter ever arrived.  (from FB)

And how about school districts hiring  honorably-discharged veterans (with security skills) as school security?  Jobs for vets, and schools more secure.

Easy-Peasy!

Did You Ever Notice…?

(With apologies to Sixty Minutes’ Andy Rooney)

Did you ever notice, when a ‘large’ crime, or terrorist act occurs, that The Left immediately (before the ink or blood is even dry) screams to have guns, all guns, some guns, evil-looking guns, ‘high-capacity’ guns, military-styled guns, ‘assault’ weapons, Saturday Night specials, ‘assault clips’ (etc.) BANNED?

Regardless whether or not the aforementioned firearms were even used in the heinous attack?

AND, The Right usually responds by screaming at the Left for their attempts to restrict individual rights, and purchases as many of the potentially banned firearms as possible? And the many gun rights organizations demand request we send letter of protest and as many dollars as possible to their lobbying arm to thwart the Left’s attempts at restrictive legislation?

(Of course, this doesn’t work as well when the gun restrictions are mandated by executive fiat!)

BUT, rarely does such legislation ever see the light of day(!)

While I support efforts by gun rights groups to help us keep our freedoms, I am reminded that many such organizations would cease to exist (or in the least be downsized) if money was not proffered by us.

Not unlike The American Cancer Society, The Jerry Lewis MD Telethon, Party X, Party Y, yatta, yatta.  If we didn’t send money, they would dry up.

But gun rights would not be extinguished.

Because we, as individuals, would have to pick up the gauntlet.

And perhaps that’s WHY they exist – our laziness as individual citizens(?)

Please visit the links on my humble sidebar (or, make an effort to find those with whom you agree on your own!) and join, make a contribution (or contributions).  Write letters and emails.  Call politicians and bureaucrats!

TAKE ACTION to support those causes near-and-dear to your heart!

Because being an ‘armchair adventurer’ is one thing.  Being an ‘armchair citizen’ is something altogether different!

 

While We’re On The Subject Of Taking Action…

Attached, please find an email I received recently.

(I figured as long as you were in a clicking mood from the previous post!)

No donation is required – although I’m certain one would be appreciated.

When I think of the USO, I think of Bob Hope.  And the many years he brought entertainment to our troops worldwide.  And the many other entertainers since who have given time, money and even entered dangerous venues to perform…

They asked me to send a message to those who had served.  I was unable to send money, but, regardless, I’m certain the message is appreciated.

Take a moment to send one, as well, please.

Survivalism Is Not Necessarily Ludditism

Joel writes:

Things that aren’t necessities but may as well be

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I have a book that a reader sent me a year or two ago – and I apologize but I don’t remember who sent it – It’s about a guy who took it into his head to semi-retire into the Alaskan outback, near or above the Arctic circle. You know, just go out there and build a cabin and live.

Now, that’s more-or-less the plot of Into the Wild, and I think we know how that story turned out. But this older guy, Richard Proenneke, wasn’t some overindulged and suicidally starry-eyed kid. He was an old Alaska hand and actually knew what he was doing. He built a cabin that was a literal work of art – after he got old and retired from retiring, it became a tourist attraction for really hardy tourists. It makes the Secret Lair look like a particularly disreputable shed. And he made nearly every part of it from native wood or stone or bone – hell, he carved wooden door hinges.

Every single thing he had that he couldn’t make himself had to be flown in on a little bush plane and it could only happen a few months out of the year, so space and weight were real factors. And I was looking at the photographs reproduced in the book – Proenneke was a photographer, and my only complaint about the book is there aren’t enough photographs – and in one shot of the cabin’s interior I saw…a roll of paper towels.

And I had me a chuckle. Now, here’s a package of six paper towel rolls, which I just bought today…
IMG_1322
It doesn’t weigh hardly anything, of course, but it’s bulky as hell. I suppose you could open the package and distribute the rolls around the plane, but my point is that if it needs to come by bush plane, you’d have to really want that roll of paper towels. Seems like there are more important things to which you could devote that plane space.

Except maybe there aren’t. When I was first alone out here, experimenting with ways to make due with virtually no income and really studying the difference between a want and a need, I learned that the line between the two is not always clear. Some commodities, while of course you can get along without them in the sense that you won’t actually die, are themselves so useful that it almost doesn’t matter. It’s not a question of life and death, it’s a question of quality of life. Indoor plumbing: Have I ever wasted a moment wishing I hadn’t devoted all that precious Lair space to an indoor toilet? Nope, not so much as a millisecond. To the best of my knowledge, and leaving poisonous spiders out of it, nobody ever died from using an outhouse as I originally planned. But a flush toilet is just such a massive improvement that, if you’ve got the water pressure, only an idiot would decide not to go ahead and dig for a septic system. Electricity’s the same way: Not a necessity of life, but look at all the things it makes possible.

Those are big things. There’s a myriad of little ones, like paper towels. It’s good to pay attention and learn what those things are, because it’s the little things that mark the difference between living and just surviving.

PAY ATTENTION – my personal motto.

I’ve found in my years that had I paid attention (or more attention) perhaps things would have turned our better or differently.  Perhaps not.

But almost always were worse for having not done so.

"Round up the usual suspects."

In Loving Memory…