It's now December!

December begins. I am hopeful for a joyous holiday season. Looking forward to baking some cookies for my coworkers, perhaps something else fun for the office Christmas Party, and more fun for everyone.

Thanksgiving/Black Friday/Etc.

Had a wonderful, low-key Thanksgiving this year. My wife and I joined her parents for lunch at our local casino – a buffet-style meal, featuring prime rib, turkey, a few side choices, and a couple of dessert choices. I have been “good” all year long (deigning from “donut Thursday” at my office, for example), so I chose to help my self to dessert this year.

Wifey and I shied away from the lion's share of Black Friday shopping, as the parking, long lines, and general unruliness of fellow shoppers was not – in our opinion – worth the bodily harm we read about every year. We did, however, visit Cabela's (a prominent outdoor outfitter) about 45 minutes south of us. As recreational shooters, our goal was to get “in” on their “bucket of bullets” promotion. Once there, we found the buckets, and what the bargain entailed. Buy the bucket of bullets at full price, then mail in a certificate for a rebate. Yeah, not much of an immediate bargain. Whomever was the manufacturer/distributor of the “Bucket of Bullets” would be making regular-price profits (my guess is to make as much profit as possible during the Black Friday weekend). In addition, there were no “buckets” in calibers I was looking for (.38 Special, .357, and .45 Colt). Finally, the prices they had (after rebate) for calibers my wife was seeking were comparable to those offered at our local gun shops.

So, no ammo for us there. We did, though, get a pleasant surprise at Cabela's. For a few years now, I have been wearing fleece pants during the winter. Not fleece-lined pants, but true fleece pants. Very warm, very comfortable, but very hard to come by. Last week, I loaded Wifey up with web links to the few sites I could find that offered, true fleece pants. Fast forward to this past Friday – while perusing the mensware section of the store, we found fleece pants for $20 each! Two pairs for me, and a pair for my bride (as men's fleece pants are more comfortable than women's).

Saturday morning, we awoke to find our neighbor's house had signs of an attempted break-in, through our yard. We called the cops, and the responding officer was very helpful. Wifey and I eventually decided to purchase – as our Christmas gift to eachother – a pair of video doorbells, as a means of making our house more secure. Also, on Saturday – hoping to follow-up on the meager Black Friday effort we made, we visited one of our local gun shops, where I was able to pick up a box of Inception RNP copper polymer range/target ammo in .38 Special. Also got a free baseball cap with the shop's name embroidered on it.

On Sunday, we went to the local movie theater to see “Justice League”. Decent 2-hour diversion. Wifey grilled me afterward about how the movie was accurate to the comic books. “Hollywood,” I told her.

Another Reason Why I Love My Job

This morning, I received a call from a listener. She prefaced our conversation by saying she has a medical issue that causes a speech impediment. She spoke slowly, to make sure every word said was as clear as possible.

A dear friend and co-worker of hers had passed away recently from an overdose. She has been asked to speak at his funeral, and needed some help with recalling a song they used to sing together, “We Are The World” by USA for Africa. The two worked at a restaurant – she as a waitress, he as a cook. After the restaurant closed and they were cleaning up the business for the night, he would sing the song, she would join in, and it became a bonding thing for them.

She asked for details on the song, which I provided. She then began to tell me a story. I was in the middle of my radio show, and knew I needed to get on the air to say something in between songs, but I felt I needed to keep her on the air. Something in my head told me to hear her out, so I just kept playing music while she began her story.

Again, speaking slowly, she told me about how she has very limited funds, and was able to finally be able to buy a second-hand coat to keep her warm. Shortly after obtaining her coat, she came across someone on the street with a leg injury and no coat. She gave a total stranger the coat off of her back.

Her cadence quickened as the conversation began to wrap up. She then thanked me profusely for helping her out with the song she needed information on. What she said next made my day.

“You may think your just doing a 'job', but you help me to get out of bed, get out there, and do something good,” she said. She added the my station and I help her to keep going every day.

About a half-hour after our conversation, she called back, asking me if I could play “We Are The World” for her. I did right away. A few minutes afterward, she called back, crying for the loss of her friend, and thanked me for helping her grieve for her friend.

It's experiences like this that are so humbling and inspiring for me. I try to make sure my radio show is free from negativity, is as positive and fun for everyone as possible, and (as you may know) I end every program with a story of people doing good things for others. I'm not on a mission to change people's lives, but – every once in a while – I hear that we are doing something positive. That makes it all the more worthwhile for me.

The Name-Calling Needs To Stop, For The Good Of All

I think I've figured out all the “hate group” labels I've seen all too often these days.

Back up to 2016, following the Presidential Primary. From the Primary to the General Election, a consortium of those opposed to Donald Trump – Democrats, disenfranchised Bernie Sanders supporters, so-called “never-Trumpers”, etc.) thought they had the election in the bag. There was absolutely no way Donald Trump could ever get elected President. Come the General Election, Trump won enough Electoral College votes to win. The disbelief from the opposition was not only palpable, but enough to cast a pall of PTSD-like trauma on social media outlets and most TV networks.

From the Left, questions were asked, and a new game-plan sought. “How the hell did THAT guy get elected? How can we recover? What can we do to show everyone that his supporters were wrong to vote for him and not OUR candidate?”

I could go into a lot of detail of how the media fomented the divisive behavior we see today, but let's stick to the issue in simplest terms, for those who don't want to read paragraph upon paragraph.

Those who didn't vote for Trump felt betrayed. They are emotionally hurt to this day. I fully understand hurt emotions, and how they can consume one's perspective. Think back to grade school. If someone deeply hurt your feelings – made you question what is right and just in the world – shake your everything, you likely would do what most grade school kids did... Call the person or people who did that names.

After the General Election, it was implied that anyone who voted for Trump must have been a homophobe, Islamophobe, racist, etc. It was a means to justify hurt feelings over the election outcome. Didn't like the election result? Give the opposition a demeaning label, and – like magic – you are on the moral, right, and just side of history.

Fast forward to recently, when the Charlottesville crap went down. A handful of White Supremacists scheduled a rally, some people showed up to support Free Speech (NOT the White Supremacists), Antifa showed up to counter-protest, and everyone who wasn't Antifa was labeled as a Nazi. Not a neo-Nazi (a reprehensible movement of hatred), but an actual Nazi (Democratic Socialist Party member).

Now, anyone who does not tow the hard-Left ideology is being labeled as Nazi. In addition, any statue or monument that does not fit the hard-Left ideology is being labeled as racist, and calls are going out nationwide to have them taken down. To make matters worse, conservatives (from Republican to Libertarian to whatever, including conservatives who are black, Jewish, etc.) who publicly denounce racism are still being branded as Nazis by the far-Left, and the mainstream Left is starting to follow suit.

Why? On the surface, it makes no sense whatsoever. Anyone who knows anything about history recognizes That Nazism has no context in modern-day society, that neo-Nazis are shunned by people across the political spectrum, and the number of true neo-Nazis in the United States is minuscule. What we are left with is an emotionally-damaged populace and media that looks to justify their ideology by assigning labels of evil (racism) to a large populace who do not have racism in their hearts.

What we are seeing will only serve to further divide out country. Not over racial issues, but over hurt feelings, name-calling, and detraction over issues that have nothing to do with bigotry.

I'm no Democrat. I'm no Republican, either. Ask any friend of family member - I don't have a bigoted bone in my body. But by calling out the “label everything racist” movement, I will (likely) be called a racist, homophobe, Islamophobe, sexist, or whatever. It's all the anti-Trumpers have left in their playbook. I have deep respect for elements of the Democratic Party (read: classical Democrats). I only hope they can move past name-calling as a means to show voters what they can offer. I also hope that the evidence I've seen of moderate Democrats buying the “everyone is a racist” garbage spewed by the Hard Left will diminish.

In the end (I think), Party Politics has nothing to do with being a good neighbor, being a good friend, or being a good family member. I find it so sad that there is such a clamor to use hurt feelings over the election to give labels of evil to people who just wanted to exercise their right to vote for the person they thought would help the country best.

We are bigger than name-calling, aren't we?

Doing Good, Any Way You Can

I am not an outgoing person. Yeah, I'm a bit of an introvert. By mere virtue of being the “early morning guy” at the radio station for over 20 years, I'm in bed early, so I don't pick up too many friends along the way (at least, those who want to go out after 8pm to hang out). As a result, many people I have struck up friendships with are through social media. Gotta appreciate friendships where you can find them.

There was one thing a few years back that became the impetus for my “doing good for no reward”. A puppy mill was busted in my county, and – through a dog club my wife belonged to – a call was put out for volunteers to help clean and process the puppies for our Sheriff's Department. Without giving it a second thought, my wife and volunteered.

We taken to an undisclosed location, where we found a couple hundred Chihuahua, Yorkie, and other small puppies, in cages stacked to the ceiling. It was not the location of the puppy mill, but cramped conditions, nonetheless. We volunteered for any task needed, which included cleaning the puppies (and their mothers), talking to them, and simply giving them gentle human contact – talking to them, holding them, calming them – while they were cataloged as evidence by law enforcement.

The health conditions were bad enough that we all had to wear masks to avoid diseases from the air, and we were instructed to throw away or burn the clothes we wore after we were done. As dog owners, to see these animals - abused and neglected, with no prior human contact, shaking and afraid - it was a life-changing experience, to say the least. Fortunately, we have not had another puppy mill come up in our county. My wife and I, though, are committed to doing whatever we can, if that happens ever again.

Fast forward to today... At the close of my radio show, I read what I call “Good News” stories. Stories of people doing right by others, usually total strangers. My hope is that - with far too much negativity everywhere in the world - I can show my listeners that people are inherently good, do kind things for no reward, and everyone has the capacity for good in their hearts. There are two things that transcend ethnicity, political persuasion, social status, etc. - the capacity in the human heart to do evil and the capacity to do good. I can't think of a better way to end my air shift with a focus on the latter.

My inspiration for that segment comes from my cousin, Lori. She has spent her adult life working to help at-risk and homeless teens find shelter, comfort, and acceptance. Her “heart project” is Ryan's House for Youth, a teen shelter on Whidbey Island (in Washington State), which broke ground at their new facility not too long ago. I was pleased to help her promote the fundraising effort to acquire the property they now operate on, and I look forward to promoting their 1 year anniversary event in September. She is a kind person in so many ways, I cannot count. She is my “do good” muse, and I love her all the more for it.

I'll close with this. Be good to yourself, be good to others. It benefits you and others in innumerable ways.

Little Things Can Make a Big Difference

Last year, I posted about a listener to my humble radio show who's life was brightened through the simplest of gestures. Today, I got a humbling repeat.

During my radio program (6-10 PST), I routinely ask for song requests. During the 8am hour, I get a song request for a listener...

"Can you play something from REO Speedwagon's 'You Can Tune A Piano But You Can't Tuna Fish' album?"

"Sure," I respond. "Is there a specific track I can play for you?"

"No," she replies. "Anything from that album would make my day."

I tell her I have a track from that album I'll get on the air next. I play it, then follow up with some trivia about the song and the album it's from. I've done my duty, on to the next song...

A few minutes later, that listener calls back, just to thank me to playing her request, and telling my listeners some more fun facts about the song the album it came from. "It made my day," she said. "Happy to do it, it's what I'm here for," I respond.

Fast forward about an hour. I'm about ready to close out my show, and do a last-minute giveaway for tickets to the local County Fair. My earlier caller was the winner.

About an hour after that, she shows up at the station, gives me a big, long, hug. Thanking my and my station over and over for how much what we are doing for her and everyone else, how much she loves our station, and how winning something like Fair tickets means to her. She said she never wins anything, even presents on her birthday, and to win something during my show gave her hope to try the lottery, as luck seemed to be on her side. She also brought a mocha and a freshly-baked cinnamon roll to me, as a "thank you". I accepted the gifts, telling her she didn't need to have done that, but she was insistent. I didn't have the heart to tell her I was diagnosed as Type 2 diabetic (since I saw her last), haven't touched a cup of coffee in years, and avoid sweets like the plague (that's a story for another day). I drank the coffee later (couldn't let a gift go to waste), and saved the roll for later - my wife does not yet know, and I hope to share it with her sometime this weekend.

The point being - you never know when what you think is something small can make a huge difference in someone's life. The little things can, and DO, matter, in surprising ways.

The Good News

I'd like to take a moment to everyone a BIG "thank you" for watching the Good News videos on my radio show page.

The Impetus

I have come close to quitting Facebook on more than a couple of occasions, and every time it was over the political rhetoric (from both sides of the aisle) of those in my friends list. I'm kinda, sorta, a “fiscal conservative Libertarian” (read: lower my taxes, reduce government, make my nation safe, then leave me the Hell alone). The vast majority of my friends from high school and college (the ones whom I wanted to stay in touch with through social media), however, are VERY liberal.

I'm not upset with my difference in supposed political ideology. In fact, I'm fine with that - different strokes for different folks, and all. We, as a nation, used to be able to voice our differences by taking our preferences to the ballot box, not shouting down those who do not fit your specific brand of politics.

Leading up to, through, and after the Presidential election, I saw so many of my friends (people whom I had no prior inkling of their voting preference - people I have fond memories of and whom I still hold dear - turn from “Hey! How are things with you? Here's something about what I'm doing these days” into hate-filled meme posters (friends on both sides of the aisle, mind you). And, especially right after the election, any opinion I had that wasn't anti-Trump was publicly called out and shamed. I think opinions are just that - opinions, and no one - regardless of political persuasion - should be lambasted for having one.

How the Good News Stories Evolved

I'm on the radio every weekday. I have listeners of various political persuasions. After the last time I almost quit FB, I thought, "In a nation so divided, how can I bring all of my listeners together. To appreciate doing good for others without any other motivation than to be a good person?

I had already been closing my radio show with "Good News" stories. So, to spread the word, so-to-speak, I started filming them for use on the show page.

My Goal

Ending my show on a note as positive-as-possible, and being able to share those stories with others who may not be listing to the show, is my mission. It's my middle finger to those on FB who insist on dividing their friends and neighbors, those who don't remember that it is more important to be a good person than a partisan person.

My Point

There is good in everyone, regardless of politics, and that's what I want to remind anyone I can.

Friendships are more important to me than politics. Any relationship, forged outside of the political realm, is more important to me than politics. I have listeners from all walks of life, and if I can close each show with a little something that can make them smile, then mission accomplished. And it is personally rewarding to share those same stories online. Hopefully, to remind everyone that doing good for others should come naturally, without regard for politics or any other factor.

If you would like to watch my Good News Stories, and I hope you will, you can view them on my radio show page, https://www.facebook.com/morningswithglen.

Aah! My eye!

A few weeks ago, I developed an eye infection, due to allergies. Now, my eye issue has come back (with a vengeance), thanks to the poor air quality (due to smoke from wildfires from B.C.).

My right eye is swollen, I can hardly see out of it. I've been putting Visine Allergy drops in my eye, but the problem is with the eye lids, which are swollen.

Today, I've started putting Liberty Lotion on my eyelids, which relieves the pain and discomfort. The drawback, though, is that my right eye is all but closed and I can't feel that part of my face. I've also noticed pain and discoloration around my right eye. It's like I took a hit to the ocular cavity, just short of earning a "shiner". I have clue what's going on here, but I do know the poor air quality has not been a benefit to my vision.

Gun Shop Gripes

Here's a situation I get into, occasionally, while shopping for a new gun.

I ask to see a gun on display. The person behind the counter proceeds to bring out the firearm, then go through the perfunctory safety check to make sure the gun is unloaded, then put it on the counter for me to pick up and inspect. I pick up the gun in question, grip it like I own it, and point it downward and of to the side (in order not to “flag” anyone at the shop).

It's at this point I sometimes commit one of two “crimes”. The first of which is – God forbid – put my finger on the trigger. Keep in mind that the gun that was just handed to me is unloaded and has been safety-checked by the person who handed it to me. It's unloaded and has no chance of maiming or killing, short of pistol-whipping someone, or by loading rounds into the gun – in front of the person behind the counter – then cocking and firing the gun at someone. Yet, the act of putting your finger on the trigger of an already acknowledged unloaded gun, in a gun shop? Looks of consternation from the person trying to sell you that firearm. “I want to sell you that gun, but don't get a feel for what it would be like to grip it like are going to fire it first.” What I want to do is get a feel for the gun I'm looking to spend hundreds of dollars purchasing, and that includes the grip of the thing in my hand, with my finger on the trigger.

The second crime I seem to commit is to “flag” myself while either re-positioning the gun away from the person behind the counter, or by bringing it back onto the counter for the gun store person to put back into the case. OK, already established that the gun in question is unloaded, and is – therefore – not going to go off. If anyone(!) behind the counter is going to finch when I move with the gun they just handed me, I think they either don't have confidence in the safety check they just did, or they are knee-jerking to all the crap they read on social media. I cannot tell you how many times I've shopped for a semi-auto pistol, and was handed one with no magazine, only to get the stern looks from folks when I try to grip the sucker like I own it. I'm not wildly waving the thing around. I'm not pointing it right at the person who is helping my with my purchase. It's just nuts.

The old adage goes, “if you don't know a firearm is loaded, treat it like it is”. If you KNOW it's unloaded, though, you don't need to treat it – or those inspecting it for purchase – like it's loaded and ready for bare.

Open Letter to E-Mail Spammers

Alas, about once a year (for about a 1 month period), I get a stinking, flaming, paper bag full of garbage in my e-mail inbox.

In the past (in another blog), I written an open letter to those who are trying so hard to entice me to purchase the items and services they are offering. And, as it is that time once again, here’s my latest “open letter to e-mail spammers”.

Dear Sir/Madam/Off-Shore Bulk E-Mailer:

I thank you for your interest in offering your (product/service) to (insert recipient here). After all, in the United States, a free marketplace is key, and I applaud your enthusiasm to convince me to spend money on your (product/service). At this time, however, I am unable (or unwilling) to purchase your (product/service). It’s not you (the spammer/bulk e-mailer)! You’re doing what you’re employer has asked you to do, and such, you’re just doing your job. But, please take a moment to review my reasons below, as I will not purchase your (product/service) at this time for the following reasons:

Over the past 10+ years, I have been inundated with offers to refinance my home loan. Please note that I am not a homeowner, and at such time that I own a home of my own, I will finance the loan through my local bank or mortgage company, not through someone who sends me 50 e-mails a day asking me to give your "discount home loan refinancing" a try.

I am, at this time, not interested in purchasing any pharmaceuticals manufactured in third world countries that boast “natural male enhancement”. Come to think of it, I’m not interested in anything manufactured in third-world countries, nor am I interested in any (products/services) that offer “natural male enhancement”. I have never inquired to anyone about such enhancement products/services, nor do I plan to in the foreseeable future. Not that it is any of your business (and it’s not), but if my “marital relations” were suffering from any “shortcomings”, I would consult my doctor, who would then prescribe appropriate medication. As I prefer legitimate medical channels to help with any conditions, I would NOT choose a link in an e-mail over consulatation with my primary care provider. At this time “natural male enhancement” for me would likely involve squatting on a hornets nest. As I am allergic to hornets, never plan to squat on a hornets nest, and I have no idea if the pharmaceuticals you offer contain hornet venom, I will especially try to avoid purchasing your product. The same applies to discount pharmaceuticals from Canada, minus the hornet venom.

Speaking of “male enhancement” and other products/services, I would appreciate it – if you insist on sending me 50+ e-mails per day pitching me such offers – if you would take a moment to correct your spelling. Proper spelling will always enhance the sales pitch. For clarification purposes, it’s “Cialis”, not “Ci8lIs”. It’s “Viagra”, not “vIaGr8”. It’s “small cap stocks”, not “smal1 cAp st0ck$”. And if you’re offering software at “d1scount PrIce$”, it’s “Microsoft Windows XP”, not “m1cr0so0ft W1nd0ws xP”.

For your benefit, I must also stress the importance of a proper e-mail address, as it conveys to a recipient a sense of honesty. Key to this is the name on the e-mail coinciding with the name in the e-mail address. How can I be sure of your intention to be an honest product/service provider if your e-mail says it’s from “Bob Johnson”, while the e-mail address says "frankfredricksen@___.com"? And why are you sending me 50+ e-mails a day, using various forged e-mail addresses, pitching the same product/service? If I were interested, I would have given you my money by now, wouldn’t I?

I could site a number of other reasons why I’m not, at this time, interested in your product/service, but I hope I’ve made my point clear – you don’t, and won't, have my business.

Wishing you continued success in future endeavors –

- Radioguy

Fires Bad, Ventolin Inhaler Good

Wildfires in British Columbia have been a bummer for residents in Washington State. It's like going late to a seafood buffet dinner, and getting whatever is left at the bottom of each warming pan, knowing full well that someone with a tuberculotic cough may well have hacked on the room-temperature shrimp you are now heaping onto your plate. But you keep serving yourself those Boogers From The Sea, because you don't have a choice - you are there, that's all that is available to eat, and the Uber driver that brought you to your digestive roller coaster has already left to pick up a hipster with a boner for a kale salad at an all-night Community Sensitivity Awareness function.

During my half-hour drive to work this morning, the smokey haze was so thick, it looked like fog. Later, around 7:30 in the morning, I poked my head out of the office, and here's what I saw:

Yeah, at 7:30 in the morning. Not a cloud in the sky, but enough haze to turn the sky from blue to a perpetual sunrise, and to discolor the sun.

The smoke issue has been tough on my already-screwed up respiratory system (still recovering from a bout of bronchial pneumonia). I do, though have a secret weapon, thanks to the BP.

Fortunately, the weather is supposed to become better, but damn, it hasn't been a fun week.

About Me: A Primer

A bit about me, from simplest to most complex.

• I love humor, specifically dry humor of the UK kind. I was raised on the local PBS station, which routinely showed British comedies from the 60s and 70s. American humor, to me, is too slapstick. Think "funny haha" verses "funny hoho". As a result, most American comedy shows don't make me laugh. With that said, I absolutely love sarcastic humor (a la "Mystery Science Theater 3000"), and dark humor (many Sesame Street memes and such available online). I do not like humor that is racist or pokes fun at religions, but anything up to that, and I'm your man.
• I love science. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a scientist. I was torn between Egyptology, Archaeology, and Astronomy. At the age of 8, I was digesting high school and college-level textbooks on those subjects, along with texts on Geology and Paleontology Upon adulthood, I branched out into Cosmology and Particle Physics. If I weren't a happily-married man, I'd be actively creeping scientists like Moogega Cooper and Michelle Thaller.
• I love science fiction and fantasy. I'm a huge Star Wars and Star Trek nerd. Collected comic books as a kid, and have become a bit of a comic book canon snob when it comes to movie adaptations. I have more sci-fi and fantasy books in my collection than any other subject.
• I love anime'. Hiyao Miyazaki for the win.
• I prefer beer over wine, and wine over hard liquor.
• I love to cook. I'm best at comfort food, but I love to try recipes from other countries.
• I make kick-ass BBQ sauces.
• Odd foodstuffs, like haggis, pickled herring, and brown goat cheese, are always welcome.
• I have an allergy to seafood, to pickled herring is enjoyed once a year, and shrimp is no longer eaten (damn).
• I love to wear a kilt when the weather is warm.
• I work in the media/communications industry, but I am not comfortable speaking in public.
• I am politically aware, but dislike political discussions. Over the years - from being a music major in college, to a small business owner, to where I am today - I've gone from die-hard liberal to conservative to "sort-of Libertarian" (there I am now). I haven't - or currently - label myself as as a member of any party. My voting choices have evolved over the years, to reflect my needs as a citizen. While being politically aware (and, I admit, I tend to lean conservative on matters of national interest), I am disgusted by the so-called "discourse" on social media, and in what I see on TV. There is no room for folks like me, who don't conform to either the Democratic or Republican party platform assumptions. I have consistently asked friends on social media to be tolerant of differing political opinions. I have called for a level-headed interchange when points of contention come up. I have learned, though, that - since the latest Presidential election - a social media conversation is anything but civil. In most cases I have been unfortunate to be a part of, it's about tearing down opinions, taking apart opinions, and trying to prove that one "side" is right. I would rather be part of discussion that didn't involve politics, as that topic is much more toxic than anything else these days. I think it's beneficial to focus on what we have in common, not what we vehemently disagree on. My political opinions will be made at the ballot box.

Summertime

Summertime is in full swing here in Northwest Washington State.

The sun is shining, and temps are in the 80s to lower 90s. Higher in locations south of me, but the relatively cooler temps are still uncomfortable for me (I was born and raised in Western Washington, and I start to melt at 70 degrees).

Wildfires from our neighbors to the north (British Columbia)have spread smoke throughout the region, causing health issues for those like me (who are recovering from bronchial pneumonia). The smoke is so bad, that even the trees across the street from my house are viewed through a gray haze.

Burn bans are in effect throughout the region, despite the best efforts of folks to deliberately set fires. I've already seen a brush fire in the median of the highway I drive to and from work on, and I've heard of a deliberately-set fire south of my, near the Deception Pass Bridge (the only roadway off of Whidbey Island).

On the plus side, I was able to wear two of my kilts to work this week (don't get me started about the whole "it's a skirt" thing), and I was able to get some exercise in at the office before the smoke became an issue. I'd love to wear one of my kilts again tomorrow (as the temperature, locally, is expected to be in the 90s), but they both need washing and ironing, and I don't have the effort in me to do either.

Stay cool out there!

The Fire Danger is High This Week

A heat wave, the likes of which NW Washington has seen since 2009, is hitting the area this week. Temps are expected to reach triple digits in some areas of Western Washington, and smoke from fires in British Columbia have the potential to cause health issues for those with breathing problems. I have a few suggestions for those affected by this week's heat wave:

• Check with your local Fire Department for burn ban information: Not every Fire Department shouts from the top of the highest peak that a fire ban is in place, and it is not THEIR fault that you don't know about a ban on burning.
• If you smoke, don't throw your butts out the window while driving: This one is self-explanatory, yet the majority of wildfires happen under these circumstances. If you commit this crime, you get saddled with the cost of the fire response, and more. Don't do it, period.
• Avoid igniting fireworks: We are a month past Independence Day, but some individuals still have a stockpile of fireworks they bought on the reservation, and took home, thinking they weren't violating local fireworks bans. If you are among those “the law applies to everyone but me” individuals, please refrain from using our warm evenings to launch bottle rockets into the sky (and onto your neighbor's roof and already dry yard). Doing so will damage your relationship with your neighbors, not to mention the local Fire Department.

Here are a few additional tips for avoiding problems during this week's heat wave.

• Staying indoors with the Air Conditioning on is good. Moving your sweaty ass to Alaska is better.
• If someone near you has ignited vegetation (including wood for a firepit), extinguish it by squatting directly onto the flames. It will prevent the fire from spreading, and will give you a good story for the paramedics. Win-win.
• Don't commit arson: No matter how tempting it may be to burn your Ex's home to the ground, the resulting smoke will be a health issue for others.
• Avoid self immolation, in protest of whatever you feel requires the ultimate sacrifice: It's a fire hazard, and – again – the resulting smoke will be a health issue for others. Save your "ultimate sacrifice for the sake of your beliefs" for the rainy season, when your act of defiance will pose less of a threat to people and property around you.
• If you are prone to spontaneous combustion, remain indoors: Those who are prone to bursting into fire should, preferably, sequester themselves to the bathroom - either in the shower with the water running, or in the rub, under the water's surface. Please note that in the second scenario, you should come up for air periodically, as prolonged exposure to a "no-breathing" environment can be hazardous to your health.
• If you are drinking, and someone challenges you to ignite your farts with a lighter, decline the challenge: You, and/or your friend, have clearly had too much to drink. The risk of fire damage to property is not worth telling your friend, “hold my drink”.

Enjoy the warm weather. Be fire-wise. Don't be an ass (unless, of course, your fart challenge results in a wet one. In which case, just go change your underwear and sober up).

Cough, cough...

It's been a week since I saw a doctor about my cough. At that time, I was told my “issue” started as seasonal allergies, then became a sinus infection, then bronchitis, then bronchial pneumonia. Three new prescriptions and a week later, I am coughing less (a good sign). Today, I am much less congested, but I am wheezing and dry coughing. It's like my system is trying – hard – to cough up the remaining phlegm in my lungs, but to no avail. I cough the least when I am sitting still and not talking, which sucks for me, as I am a radio DJ by profession.

Sometimes, I Suck

Sometimes, you have a revelation. It could be an "a-ha" moment about your life or something in it. It could be a moment when all becomes clear for the first time. Sometimes, though, it's a painful reminder of poor life choices in the past, or a reminder of just how much you consider your childhood self as a waste of space.

I try to do good by others, and try to do good by myself, because - when my mind wanders - I am reminded of just how much of an asshat I think I was when I was younger. And there are times I think I am less-than-worthy as an adult.

I was a much different person when I was younger, and the structure I give myself today is my way of trying to atone for the kind of person I used to be. Nowadays, I am quiet, cautious, even-tempered, and accepting - everything I was not when I was younger. My childhood behavior is not acceptable by adult-me. It's an albatross around my neck, and something I regularly need to address. As a human being, I'm tarnished.

Most days, I'm fine with it. Some days, like today, I feel very guilty for being me.

Curse Me and My Gun Enthusiasm

Somehow, I managed to bugger-up my favorite handgun, my .45 Colt revolver. Disassembled it for cleaning, got it cleaned to factory spec, then missed a part while re-assembling it. Not it's all jibbered. I've got a friend looking at it. Hopefully, she can get is functioning correctly.

I Can Cook, Yet Sometimes I Can't

I have been told by a few more people than my self that I can cook, and I can cook well. Lately, though, I have found it very difficult to come up with dinner at a moment's notice, or when time is short to have a meal ready.

Granted, my culinary specialty is “comfort food”, and that slice of cuisine is definitely off the menu these days (Wifey and I on a diet). But I would think I could come up with SOMETHING in a pinch that is diet-friendly. I used to. With the diet, Wifey and I are buying much fewer grocery items. Perhaps I am intimidated by the lack of ingredients to choose from? Perhaps I am intimated by the questionable meat products that would require lengthy defrosting times to get a meal put together? I don't know. What I DO know is my wife is coming home from puppy school shortly, and I have yet to come up with a decent meal for the two of us, and I hate the idea of asking her to just “pick something up” on the way home, or to repeat the go-to meals we've been having – heating up hot dogs (leftover social gathering foodstuffs).

Such a conundrum...

That Guy With The AK (That's Me)

This past weekend, my wife and I went on a double-date with two of my coworkers (married couple) to our local shooting range. They, like Wifey and I, are gun owners, and go to the range as often as we can afford to, to improve our accuracy with the firearms we own. This past weekend was a “fun” date – meaning, we brought some of our favorite firearms for all of us to try. Among the ones I brought to the party was my new Century Arms C39v2 (AK).

Late in our double-date, I invite our guests to give my new AK a try, with quick instruction on how the rifle works, safety, aiming, etc. One of our guests (who is very familiar with firearms) had initial difficulty with it – difficulty seeing the target with his bad eye, and being shorter than I, he ended up putting a hole in the ceiling of the range. Knowing what he had done, he put the rifle down, and said he would not be shooting it again. In most cases, “no harm, no foul” and move on. Nope.

A gentleman a few bays down from us immediately come over to me, and offered to ask the range officer to supply me with some extra cardboard to lower my target (to accommodate my shorter shooting companion). I thanked him and waited for said cardboard. This gentleman (whom I will refer to as Range Nazi from this point on), proceeded to bang on the range officer's window, yelling, “that short guy over there (my guest) is shooting your ceiling!” “That guy with the AK is shooting up your ceiling!”. Range officer comes out with cardboard in hand, and proceeds down the bays. Range Nazi (pointing at me) - “no, THAT guy with the AK! That guy with the AYYY KAYYY!!!!!”

The range officer – a very nice young man, by the way – provided me with extra cardboard from which to hang my target (for the shooter who has now moved on to one of his own firearms in his own bay), and tried to give me a quick course on angular momentum (which I already knew – just didn't know my friend would shoot the ceiling). I thanked the range officer, and looked down to where Range Nazi was. He seemed pretty pleased with himself for calling out the dangerous goings-on in my bay.

Now, I've seen Range Nazi at our local range before. He only shoots an air gun (I have heard him boast about to anyone within earshot as being VERY expensive). Perhaps he competes, I have no idea. The time I have seen him spend at the range has been fine-tuning his air gun accuracy. Not once have I seen this guy smile, or give any other indication that he is having fun at the range, outside of “calling me out” for being a danger to others by having a friend of mine try my new rifle. To him, it's all business, and no fun. For anyone. Including me, my wife, and our guests. I learned afterward that - from the moment I brought out my AK - he was watching my bay like a hawk, waiting for me or someone else shooting my gun to make a mistake. Perhaps, if I was shooting an air rifle instead, he would have been less of a jerk. I can only guess that my rifle - much more powerful than his air gun - was was too much for his own shooting experience.

My response that day to Range Nazi? I mounted a new target, sent it down to the end of the range, put 10 out of 10 shots in the middle of the target, packed up, and walked out.

Water cooler talk at the office today – the consensus is that I should get a t-shirt made with “That Guy with the AK!” on it. If' grumpy-ass Range Nazi is going to be there next time I go shooting, I want him to see me wearing it. I'll happily own (and wear) that moniker.

I know range safety, as did my friend who declined to shoot my new rifle again, after landing a round in the ceiling. One round in the ceiling, with a rifle new to a shooter, was the only "glitch" in our range time.

Screw you, Range Nazi. Screw you.

SIDE NOTE: During our range time, I was able to determine ammo load issues with two handguns, increase my accuracy with my .45 Long Colt revolver, try a few new-to-me firearms, including a .357 revolver, and discover my accuracy with the AYYY KAYYY is better than I had originally thought. Screw You, Range Nazi!

Mens' Grooming Tip of The Day

Gun Porn - Uberti Bisley Revolver

Tonight's Gun Porn is my Uberti Bisley revolver.

The Bisley revolver was originally designed and manufactured by Colt for a target shooting competition in Bisley, England (hence, the Bisley model name).

The frame is based on Colt's Single-Action Army revolver, with a slightly larger frame, a hammer flush with the top of the gun, and a distinctive grip, suited for target shooting.

My revolver, manufactured by Uberti (an Italian company known for it's cowboy gun replicas), has a case-hardened frame, 5-1/2" barrel, and is chambered in .45 Colt (think cowboy rounds).

This particular gun is a hoot to shoot. It doesn't poke holes in paper, as much as it punches holes in it with a Chuck Norris fist. The heft of the gun mitigates a lot of the recoil, and it almost feels like the gun wants to move forward, as opposed to backward, with every pull of it's hair-trigger.

The Gun Porn image itself is with spent casings (from my first time shooting my baby) on a Detroit Lions towel, gifted from friends in Arizona. The picture was taken with my cell phone.

Range Time

This past Sunday, Wifey and I went to our local gun range. She wanted to get more time with the 9mm I bought her for Christmas (a Ruger LC9S). I wanted to do three things – more range time with my Walther PPK, more range time with my Uberti Bisley revolver, and to shoot (for the first time) my new Century Arms C39v2 AK-47.

We arrived at the range, just as it was opening (the best time to shoot, in my opinion), and were there for about an hour and a half.. We shared a lane that day, alternating between who was shooting – one would shoot, the other would re-load.

While Wifey was getting more familiar with her new firearm, I brought out the Walther. The day before, I bought new ammunition for my little spy gun. PPKs are notorious for being picky about the ammo you put through them – you could have two PPKs, with consecutive serial numbers, and they won't like the same ammo. I found this out again Sunday, as the round I put through it resulted in many double-feeds. The ammo I purchased was just too “hot” (too many grains of gunpowder per round), for my gun to act normally. After about 3 magazines of trouble (including some help from the range officer), I put the Walther away and picked up the revolver.

Our targets were at “personal defense” distance – about 15 feet out. First shot with my revolver landed dead-center of the target. I turned around to ask Wifey, “did you see that?” She was doing something with her phone, her back turned away from me and my (surprisingly) exemplary marksmanship. Later, with the same target, I blew a 3-inch diameter hole in the center of the target, turned to Wifey for a “good job”, and she was on the phone again.

About 10 minutes later, with a different target, she was watching. I fired six rounds at the target, and only saw four holes, all in the center. She informed me that I had placed two shots in the holes I had already made. So, larger bore revolver accuracy at that range – established. The gun has a hair-trigger, and has a larger barrel length, so not for carry.

Finally, with a new target up, we tried out the new AK. Again, at “self-defense” distance. Great feel, little recoil, and (like the revolver) I was landing shots in the center of the target. I don't think Wifey liked the rifle as much as I did, but I'm sure she will come around, after we have more range time with it.

In Summary:

• Wifey is getting more and more comfortable with her new 9mm, and liking it more and more every time we get to the range.
• The .380 ammo I bought for my very picky Walther will go to my less-picky Bersa. Will need to find less-powerful ammo for the Walther.
• The revolver is, and has been, the most accurate firearm I've shot. Looking forward to more time with that beauty.
• My new AK is a ton of fun, but I need to shoot it a lot more to truly appreciate it.

Cultural Appropriation? My Love of Food Says "Screw You"

Bought the Olive Garden Italian salad dressing at Costco a short while back. While tasty, it is so acidic, it literally melts vegetable matter shortly after application. I must find an alternative.

I am eating a restrictive diet, in order to lose weight and get my heart rate and blood sugar down. My diet usually consists of a salad to start my day, and a light, tasty, salad dressing makes the morning routine all that more tolerable.

But, in hindsight, should I give up on my search for a delightful, delicious, Italian salad dressing? After all, I'm not Italian, and to like - and use - Italian dressing on my iceberg lettuce is considered cultural appropriation of Italians, right?

I've been seeing more and more outrage online by Social Justice Warriors (SJWs, or as I prefer to call them, "Snowflakes") about how everything is racist and the appropriation of other cultures. Disappointing and rather ridiculous.



As I write this, Cinco de Mayo (the celebration to commemorate the Mexican Army's victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, under the leadership of General Ignacio Zaragoza) is coming up. In the United States, Cinco de Mayo has taken on a significance beyond that in Mexico. In the U.S., the date has become associated with the celebration of Mexican-American culture.

While I fully understand the true meaning of the celebration, and that it's become an Americanized excuse to eat Mexican food and drink tequila and cheap Mexican beer, I still love to use the day to recreate an authentic Mexican dish or two. I greatly love Mexican food (cheap Mexican beer, however, is no better than cheap beer from any other country, so I recommend you avoid it. Can you imagine folks outside the US using the Fourth of July as reason to drink a crap-load of Schlitz, or Lucky Lager (although I'm sure there are SJWs our there who would get triggered by the word "Lucky" - "You're appropriating Irish culture!"))

What about St. Patrick's Day, when Americans flock to their local pubs to drink green beer and eat corned beef and cabbage? Is that an appropriation of Irish culture?

Or how about those non-holiday occasions where you and your loved one decide to eat out, or get take-out, for dinner? Pizza? Chinese food? Sushi? Chicken tikka masala? BBQ? Yeah, all considered cultural appropriation.


Now, I'm so Northern European (Swedish, Norwegian, and Welsh), I run the risk of exploding if exposed to enough sunlight, but do I think every person who eats Swedish meatballs at their next wedding reception is a horrible person, appropriating MY culture? Of course, the answer is no. And SJWs agree with me. The whole concept of cultural appropriation, as promoted by the Snowflake crowd, is promoted to get schlubs like me to feel guilty for not being in their targeted minorities. So far, I have not seen outrage over non-Scandinavians liking stinky brown goat cheese (Brunost), or non-Welsh liking rarebit, or non-Norwegians loving smoked salmon.

I would love to see SJWs do one of two things: codify their message, decrying everything not in YOUR culture as cultural appropriation (and ordering you to stop appropriating other cultures and stick to your cultural heritage, only), or; shut the hell up. It's not appropriation - it's love and appreciation of another culture, which I think is part of the progressive agenda of a global culture. What's happening now is selective outrage, to further sociopolitical gains.

I make a greatly-received slow-cooked brisket many times per year, along with BBQ'd ribs, a German sausage and sauerkraut medley, a homemade salsa that has received nothing but praise, a curried lamb with saffron rice, and a fairly decent Korean BBQ. I'm not appropriating any culture, I'm appreciating it.

Fish

I grew up in - and still live - in the Pacific Northwest. And when it comes to food, the first thing many people think about the PNW is seafood. Tons of seafood. As if everyone who lives north of California and east of Idaho consumes nothing but salmon all day long. Granted, areas like Western Washington State are famous for their seafood restaurants and markets. But once you get east of the Cascade Mountains, seafood is not available fresh, so it's red meat territory. Oregon is not known as a fresh fish Mecca. I think those in Oregon feed themselves - mostly - on kale and Voodoo Donuts, but I have yet to find an Oregonian (vegan or otherwise) who can muster enough energy to dispute this claim.

As I got older, I developed an allergy to seafood. Specifically, salt water fish and crustaceans. (Side-thought here - why is it that freshwater fish, like trout, are still called "seafood", when they don't spend any time in salt water?) Anyway, as I got older, my allergy to seafood got stronger, to the point where I can no longer eat things like shrimp (I used to be able to eat breaded or beer-battered shrimp by the boxcar-load) or fish like salmon (salt-water season), without a severe allergic reaction.

Now, I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but when I'm in the mood for fish, I'd like to have an option that doesn't send me into anaphylactic shock. Fortunately for me, there is halibut.

While I was in high school, my father and I went on fishing trips to Alaska and caught some nice-sized halibut, which he would craft into these golden, breaded nuggets of awesome.

Just last weekend, after learning I could - possibly - be able to eat halibut, my seafood-loving wife and I went to Uwajimaya in Seattle and bought a rather sizable slab of fresh, right-off-the-boat halibut. Growing up in Eastern Washington, she had never had halibut that fresh. We ended up making a few dishes from the fish slab. Having spent so many years accommodating my dietary restrictions, and to finally find seafood I could eat without allergies, she was happy and I was very pleased.

Next time we buy halibut, I hope we can recreate those seasoned, breaded nuggets my dad would make for my family. It was the memory of those tidbits of yum that brought me back - albeit partially - into the seafood-loving Pacific NW fold.

I Don't Give Up

A person I've known for decades unfriended me on social media after the election, claiming that my "privilege and guns" are part of the problem. He gave up on the friendship because of a difference in political persuasion. He then made an effort to cut as many ties as he could with me online.

Today, I found out he hadn't blocked me on Instagram. He posted a picture of something he made with his kids. I gave it a "love" and left it at that. I'm sure he didn't expect my reaction to his post, and I'm pretty sure he will block me once he sees it.

Folks, I don't give a rats ass who you voted for. Friendships (for me) transcend voting preference. If I see you post something that resonates with my values (friends, family, etc.), I'll let you know I appreciate that.

I don't give up on friendships because of who they vote for. The friendships I have earned don't involve politics, and I don't value the quality of a relationship on voting choices. I've lost a ton of long-time friends recently, because they found out what box I checked on my ballot. Their choices are theirs to make. I choose to NOT do that.

Snowmageddon

A lot of snow today. And, by a lot of snow, I'm talking in relative terms for my locale. I lived in central Washington State for about 15 years – during which, it would snow several feet between Halloween and Easter. It was something no one really thought much of (the same way any sustained wind less than 40 miles per hour was considered less than “a breeze”). Here in Western Washington, however, anything up to 3 inches of snow on the ground is considered a “significant Winter storm”, while anything more than 3 inches is considered a “storm of the century”. 

From last night, through early this morning (as I was preparing to hit the road to get to work), enough snow collected on the road to warrant the “significant Winter storm” thing. Anyone turning on the TV first thing in the morning would be greeted with “the most comprehensive storm coverage” (it didn't matter which channel you were tuned in to. The “comprehensive” coverage involved dumping most local news in favor of school closure announcements (live listing WITH the same information scrolling at the bottom of the screen), and sending the junior-most reporter somewhere with more than an inch of snow on the ground (usually up to the mountain passes, where no one lives), do to what I call the “poke and scoop”.

The “poke and scoop” involves the junior-most reporter or anchor being sent outdoors, for a live shot of them road-side (it's always important to be road-side, to show the traffic impact of the snow). Sometimes, the shot is in a rural neighborhood, but usually is in a mountain pass, where most folks already know not to travel under snowy conditions. The reporter's report involves a wide-angle shot, establishing their location, then the “poke” - poking their finger (or, in rare occasions, a ruler) into the deepest pile of snow they can find. The “scoop” follows, as if you weren't convinced the snow is of Armageddon-levels. They scoop their hand in the snow, to present you with a fistful of ski powder, convincing you that conditions are at their most dire. Some TV stations insist on following the “poke and scoop” with the “curb kick”, where they do another wide-angle shot of them kicking snow on the street curb, to emphasize the hazardous driving conditions. This is how TV stations fill in between traffic and weather when it snows – with traffic and weather.

I've gotta tell you – numerous times a day, I get some exercise by walking out to my office's mailbox and back. If what I saw on TV was anything like real life, I would have lost in the snow - buried up to my man boobs in Snowpocalypse - the first time I hit the office driveway this morning.
The forecast calls for more snow tonight and tomorrow morning. I can't wait for the TV coverage.

Fun Things for Me Sometimes Go Bang

Let's take a moment to talk about my guns. I like guns. No, I take that back. I love guns.

First, what I am not. I am not a hunter (I prefer my meat to come in prepackaged, non-mobile, cellophane-wrapped packages, ready to cook). I am not a doomsday prepper (although I insist to my friends that the day the Zombie Apocalypse comes, I will welcome them to come over, stock with my guns and swords, and help me defend my town from the Undead. Sadly, no one seems to take me seriously.). I am not a home defender (while I have a gun in our bed stand, I have two large dogs that are more than ready to do that task for me). Nor am I what some would call a “Bible-thumping redneck” (I live in the Pacific Northwest, where the closest thing to a redneck is a lumberjack, and I've touched a Bible once - it set my hand on fire. Lesson learned). Guns are not what drive my vote, guns are not an obsession. For me, guns are not what define me. I am the kind of gun owner that flummoxes those who generalize anyone owning a firearm as a militaristic nut job...

I am a target shooter and firearms collector. It's a hobby. Granted, an expensive hobby, but a hobby nonetheless. For me, it's like being a model train enthusiast. As soon as you finish your first G-scale train, you want to add to your collection by purchasing HO, O, N, ON30, and American Flyer S trains, stocking up on props for the landscapes to run your trains in a circle around, endlessly watching your trains run around your ever-expanding “train room” until your wife cannot help but shake her head in disbelief when she walks in on your playing like a 9-year-old on Christmas Day. Yeah, that kind of expensive hobby. I go to the range about once a month (would love to go more often), I'm focused on safety, and I do months of research before even considering a gun purchase.

My collection is small (by enthusiast standards), but is growing. Many fellow enthusiasts, I have discovered, will find a firearm or brand of firearm they like and purchase a large number of those guns, becoming an expert and, at the same time, an annoying snob, about that gun. Glock junkies, 1911 fanboys, AR-15 fanatics, and some “experts” on military surplus firearms. They are a great resource for information if you are interested in one of their preferred firearms, but they tend not to know when to say, “my favorite gun may not be the right one for you.”

My first firearm was one of the most maligned semi-auto pistols – the Hi-Point C9.

A 9mm handgun that looks like it was beaten with the Ugly Stick, repeatedly, with hatred, at night, in a darkened room. Polymer grip, a slide that weight one pound less than a Sherman tank. Years after my wife bought it for me for my birthday, even she calls it “The Brick”. Because, once you run out of ammo, you can throw it at someone and due enough damage as a brick. Despite its aesthetic shortcomings, I've found it to be one of the most reliable guns I've ever owned. Every time you pull the trigger, it goes “bang”, it rarely ever jams, it's easy to operate, and (as a bonus), it weighs so much that - if I find myself in a self-defense - I can actually throw it at someone when I run out of ammo.

Just like completing that first train set, ownership of The Brick spurred something in me. I wanted to own more. But unlike the fanboys in the gun world, I chose a different path. I wanted my future purchases to have some sort of meaning. Discussion pieces, ones that had stories to tell. Items that had interesting history.

It was then that I began creating a wish list. As I was trained with a bolt action rifle, I felt it was in my best interest, as a target shooter, to get one of those. I also wanted to gain skill shooting a pistol. Two pistols, each with history behind them, caught my eye – the Walther PPK/S and the Bisley Revolver (I'll get into those in a bit). A small wish list, by any firearms enthusiast standard. As any collector knows, the list always starts out small.

The Walther PPK/S is the 7-shot version of the well-known PPK.

For those unfamiliar with this pistol, it is a German police-issue gun that killed a lot of bad guys – specifically all those villains in James Bond movies, and Adolf Hitler, who used his personal PPK to shoot himself in the head in a bunker at the end of WWII.

My bolt-action rifle purchase was a Mosin Nagant.

(From Wikipedia) Mosins were developed by the Imperial Russian Army from 1882 to 1891, and used by the armed forces of the Russian Empire, the Soviet Union and various other nations. It is one of the most mass-produced military bolt-action rifles in history with over 37 million units having been made since its inception in 1891, and, in spite of its age, it has been used in various conflicts around the world even up to the modern day, being plentiful, cheap, rugged, simple to use, and effective, much like the AK-47 and its variants. My Mosin was built in 1939, and was used during the Winter War between Russia and Finland. Through the markings on the rifle, I learned that my Mosin was captured by the Finns, modified to fire their preferred cartridge – the D166 – and put into use by the Finnish Army against the Russians.

During this period of collecting, I bought a replica of an 1851 Confederate Navy black powder revolver.

I purchased it at a time when the Confederate flag became so unpopular in the US that popular opinion was to remove anything associated with the Confederacy from history. While I do not sympathize with the Confederacy, I felt it important to own a piece of history before that history was revised by the PC culture. Here's the history – Colt manufactured these pistols for both the Union and the Confederacy, the difference between them being the gun's frame – the Confederacy used Navys with brass frames, while the Union's Navys were identical, but with steel frames. Samuel Colt provided, essentially, the same gun to each side in the Civil War. Once it came to light that he was profiting from each side in the war, he stopped providing arms to the Confederacy.

Now, my latest acquisition, the Bisley Revolver.

I have been chasing after one of these for about 20 years. From the Uberti Company, the manufacturer of my Bisley - “In 1894, the Colt company introduced a new variation of its popular 1873 Single Action Army. The new pistol sported a longer grip frame, and target pistol-style grip, along with a lower profile, along with wider, target-style hammer. The new pistol was produced as a target pistol, and was unveiled at the British Commonwealth Championship match, held in Bisley, England. Thereafter, called the Colt Bisley, this new target pistol proved to be very popular.” Aside from Colt, a few companies have manufactured Bisley-style revolvers over the years (most notably Ruger). The Uberti Bisley, though, captured my eye with its aesthetics. To me, it is the most beautiful of the Bisley's currently manufactured. My Bisley is in .45 Long Colt, which (for the layman) is an old cowboy round – very uncommon, and very expensive to shoot.

I own - and have owned - a number of other firearms. But first and foremost, it's the history behind a firearm that catches my eye, gravitates me toward it, and encourages me to own it. To own a part of history speaks volumes to me more than the latest and greatest guns on the market, regardless of the fanboy following many of those guns receive.

My wish list, albeit a short one, is complete. Perhaps it may grow. At this point, anything else I buy will be a want, not a wish.

I Am So Tired Of Politics on Social Media

I don't know about you, but this political season has been brutal for me. I cannot recall any time in my lifetime that political opinions have so polarizing, so divisive, and so destructive to friendships.
Over the past few months, I have preached tolerance between political parties, because if a deep-rooted belief that elections – shifts in power at the White House – are transitory, and change every 4 to 8 years. We, the citizenry, are not the President, and must deal with each other when all is said and done, regardless of whom is elected. Understanding, acceptance, and all.
Well, I have learned, first hand, that there are a lot of people who do not share my idea of acceptance. I've had friends online unfollow me, unfriend me, and accuse me of all sorts of things, based upon whom I voted for.

Just last week, I posted a picture about our new President (one that could have been taken a number of ways), and was immediately de-friended by someone I considered one of my best friends since high school. A mere picture was enough to trigger that response. It hurt a lot to find that long-time friendship, during which politics never entered conversation, boiled down to whom I voted for, and was grounds for ending that friendship.

Regardless of whom you voted for (frankly I don't care), I implore you to do three things, before it's too late. First - recognize that not everyone in your circle of friends adheres to your political ideology. If you have any respect for that friendship, respect that your friend is different than you. Second – differing opinions are the gateway to productive conversation. It's far too easy to label those who did not vote “your way” as (insert epithet here). Third – if you have any friends left who voted for differently than you, make time to thank them for being part of the democratic process. It happens every four years. Make time to understand why they voted the way they did, and – if you still disagree – and here's the most important part – agree to disagree. Painting others with the broad brush of what you don't like with a political ideology is very easy. That paint is hard to wash away, once you have insulted your friends for the sake of letting your voting preference known.

I've got few followers on social media these days, and will likely have fewer and fewer as time goes on. On the rare times I actually express my political preference, it's usually met with anger. I've come to grips with that. But I have been consistent in my belief that understanding between ideologies is the key to improving the lives of everyone. I don't see any logical reason to wrap one's self so tightly in a political cocoon that differing ideologies are grounds for hurtful behavior, or ending friendships. I hope that, among you few friends I have left, you appreciate that, too.

Glitches in The Matrix

Have you ever seen things that you can't explain? I'm not talking about a pork roast coming out of the oven looking like a used Yule Log, despite following the cooking directions precisely. I'm talking about things that defy logical explanation. Over the past few years, I've had a few glitches in The Matrix.

A few years ago, while walking across a smoothly-paved parking lot, I looked at my feet to see a small rock lift up, rotate 360 degrees, and come to a rest on the pavement.

A couple of years ago, I saw a bright orb in the sky I couldn't explain. It came from the east, slowed down for a passing airplane, then sharply ascended into the sky, at a sharp angle, toward the moon. My wife also witnessed the event. I called local airports and our local Navy base, with no response. I filed a report with MUFON, who called me back a few weeks later to investigate (as they received similar reports). I know my way around planetary, stellar, aviation, and meteorological phenomenon, and the light in the sky was none of those.

Of and on (over the past few years) I would get a tingling sensation, like touching an electric fence. Immediately afterward, and for many minutes to follow, my fingers would give off a static electric discharge. In each case, the weather is warm (read: not wintertime), I am well grounded (rubber-soled shoes), and I am not walking across anything that would build up a static charge (in these cases, asphalt and cement).

While driving to work in the early morning hours, I will occasionally see an object on the side of the road get "highlighted" - as if the object (say, a shrub) is suddenly lit up from the inside. Every time, it's not an object I am previously aware of.

At my office, I occasionally see things securely pinned to the wall suddenly come off and fall to the floor. I would reattach those things to the wall, in a different place, only to have them fly off after a few minutes.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I saw a small, dark, cloud speed across the sky at a low altitude - on a day with few clouds in the sky, and no measurable wind.

Are these glitches in The Matrix? I don't know. The way things are going, I will likely experience a few more of these as time goes on.

The Rebirth of Civil Discussion on Social Media

Now that I have painted anyone wrapped up in politics on social media as either a boastful ass-hat or whiny crybaby (depending on who you voted for), I will explain in how you can get the most out of social media, without all those triggers. It's working for me, and it can work for you!

OK, you see something on a social media site that you don't agree with, politically. Here are a few steps to keep you from being either an ass-hat or a crybaby...

• Step One: Remind yourself that about half of the country did not vote the way you did.
• Step Two: Remind yourself that elections happen every four years, and power shifts from party to party every four to eight years, depending on the will of the voters.
• Step Three A (for liberal voters in 2016): Remind yourself that it is the Electoral College that elects a President. The Electoral College was established by our Founding Fathers to prevent any state with a larger population from swaying the results of an election. The EC is to give smaller states more of an equal footing with states like New York and California. Elections via the Electoral College have gone to Democrats as well as Republicans, so this time around is not a reason to abolish a system you think is unfair, just because your candidate didn't win.
• Step Three B (for conservative voters in 2016): Your candidate won. Don't be smug about it. Unless you don't care about the vast numbers of Americans who voted against our new Commander In Chief, you should be more magnanimous. Power shifts in Washington, D.C., on a regular basis, you should not broadcast your self-satisfaction to those who do not feel as confident about the election as you do.
• Step Four: Don't go about unfriending people because of their political leanings. You have built many of these friendships on things other than politics. Take the effort and make it work again. If you have a friend on social media who has been rubbing you the wrong way, you can (in the case of Facebook) unfollow them, but still remain friends. Once the new President's term begins, and things start to calm down, you two can focus once again on the things that created your friendship.
• Step Five: Find new things to occupy your social media time. If your on-line friends (who, by this point have become “annoying, stop showing up on my news feed, shut the hell up”) can't seem to let it go, try this (it's worked for me!)... Join social media groups that reflect your interest (NOT politics!). I've joined a few groups that reflect my interests – science fiction, literature, astronomy, etc. I've even joined a group dedicated to discussion of Mosin Nagant rifles, one of which I own. At no point does politics come into play. I cannot tell you how freeing it is to have meaningful discussions with peers of all persuasions without seeing anything of a political nature cropping up.

Keep in mind that, among the social media outlets I have participated in, Facebook is the most politically-charged. Twitter involves following specific users, Instagram is more like Twitter with pictures, Snapchat is Instagram with more short video clips. Tumblr, on the other hand, is for boobs, cosplay girls, and cosplay girls with boobs (at least by my extensive research in a darkened room when my wife is not home).

If you are tired of the politics on-line, or are easily triggered by what you cannot accept, please try to disconnect with what upsets you. It will all be okay!

Politics Ends Friendships (Only If You Choose To)

Today is January 20, 2017 - Election Day. Today is also a day a longtime friendship of mine ended abruptly over whom I voted for.

The friend, who will remain nameless, was one of my closest in high school. We shared the same interests, the same summer jobs. We would go for regular walks during the evening hours, to talk about our days, confide in each other, and help each other with any problems we may have been going through.

After high school, we remained close buddies. I was even the best man for his first wedding.

Well, it's been almost 30 years since high school, and each of us have differed more and more apart, politically - I drifted to the right after college, he sped to the far-left. At no point in our friendship, though, did we bring politics into play. But here's the thing - as I got older, I became more accepting of everyone's political ideologies, while he became more angry with people that didn't see the world his way.

Fast forward to today. Donald Trump was sworn in as the 45th President of the United States. Now, I have been backing the losing candidate for years. I took each election loss with humility, and freely congratulated folks who backed the winning horse. Now, for the first time in years, the candidate I voted for has become President. Today was MY turn to celebrate. So, I hopped on Facebook and posted a celebratory picture, as Democrats have done each time a Democrat got sworn in.

Almost immediately, this long-time friend posted a comment: "Bye, Glen. Enjoy your guns and your sense of entitlement. Thanks for being part of the problem."

This long-time friend knows the content of my character, knows I am kind to everyone, treats everyone equally, respects the views of others, and that I have been gracious to him as he became more and more angry at the world over the years. But, apparently his evaluating others' worth through a political lens has turned me into a backwards, ignorant, shoot-at-anything redneck maniac. All because I didn't vote like he did. And me being happy about an election for the first time in years was just the trigger to set him off. I still don't understand the "sense of entitlement" part of his comment. All I'm entitled to are the rights provided to me under the Constitution, and those that I have earned through hard work and earning the respect of others (aren't we all entitled to those things?)...

My first thought was to respond to his comment with something equally-pointed, but I immediately stopped myself, for that's not how to be sensitive to and accepting of others' views.

My response became: "I appreciate your input. Surprised to see our friendship is viewed through a political lens. Oh well. I wish you the best, though."

I fear my response fell on deaf ears, as that friendship - online and in real life - was apparently ended the moment after he finished typing.

I know he is angry about the election, as many people are. That's fine. But to make politics the measuring stick by which you place another human being's worth, then to cut and run with an online jab? I've never done it, will never do it, and hope others don't end up losing friends because of it.

While he is, apparently, done with me, I still value the friendship we have had, and I hope he finds happiness.

New Year's Resolution - Be Healthy

Following my annual check-up at the doctor's office, I resigned to get in better shape. More exercise, better diet, blah, blah, blah.

Fortunately, I was already doing many things right. Low sodium, high protein, and (roughly) low-carb diet, and I haven't drank coffee or caffeine sodas in years.

My physical activity, however, slacked off from my last physical, and over the past few months, I got lazy and started eating fast food more than I had previously allowed myself.

Well, since my recent physical, I've been walking 5 times a week, eating right, and losing some weight. My wife has been very supportive, and I've had some compliments from my co-workers for my dedication to this new health regimen.

I have an appointment with my doctor at the end of March. I am doing the best I can to get some good news from him then.

Politics Tends To Ruin Freindships

I formed my first friendships when I was in elementary school. Those ties usually were based on something like “we're in the same class”, or “we're both five years old”, or the Revolution Against mandatory Nap Time (RANT - a national movement - has seen an increase in child enrollment over the years, due to the increasing use of video games replacing adult supervision).

As I got older (read: after elementary school through college), I founded friendships with others on more specific criteria: shared hobbies, shared school subjects and the like. The more discerning I became with whom I chose to count among my friends, the fewer new friendships I made. This was likely due to the fact that I was a shy kid, a bit nerdy, abhorred sports as if they were a particularly virulent strain of anthrax, and preferred reading a book to engaging in small talk in a group. Despite my best efforts to become a recluse, I became part of a very close-knit group of friends who played Dungeons & Dragons (one group member became my best friend to this day). In high school, it was marching band (I was a string bass player from the age of five, but joined the drum line so I could get a Letterman's jacket). In college, it was orchestra, jazz band, and wind ensemble (who knew they needed a string bass player?)...

When I was in college, there were political activist groups (as there have been since the days of straw hats and spontaneous barbershop quartets), but – as a music major – I didn't have time to follow politics. I was too busy studying for exams, rehearsing for concerts, and indiscriminately mooching off of my parents and the more gullible members of the Music Department. As a result, my college friendships weren't based on political ideology, but things that were fun and focused on my burgeoning career as a professional musician.

And, as everyone knows come election time, discussing politics in college is not fun. Especially if it involves differing viewpoints. In fact, I can think of a few things that would be more enjoyable:

• An Icy-Hot enema.
• Listening to Jim Carey's “Most Annoying Sound In The World”, while power-squatting on a barbed-wire fence post.
• A hot date with Vlad, the Impaler.
• Finding out your gastroenterologist chose to handle habanero peppers before your colon exam, sans rubber gloves.

Basically, anything involving non-consensual rectal discomfort.

After college, my lifelong dream to become a studio musician came to an abrupt close, thanks to copious amounts of what doctors call “nerve and muscle damage” (or what some of my colleagues preferred to call “I guess you just don't like to play”. By that time, I was working in radio to pay the bills, or as I liked to call it, “beer money”. Well, new friendships usually formed over work, or connections through my job in radio. Being “in radio” naturally opens one up to politics, politicians, and political spin for conversational gain, and I received an education on politics that one friend of mine - a Democratic state representative and college professor I interviewed every week for years – called, “more thorough than college civics”. I became friends with Democrats, Republicans, Independents, and every other capital letter in the alphabet, and those friendships were mutually appreciative because – regardless of political ideology – we listened to each other (though I am pretty certain that, as the report, I listened more and they talked more). I listened intently, asked questions without pandering for a friendly response, thanked them for their answers, and published the contents of our conversations on the air, without bias or creative editing. Not to toot my own horn (if I did, it would be in the key of B-flat, with a sharp 11^th in the bass, sometimes called the “Brown Note”), but during that heyday of being a political “insider”, I was mentioned by name on the floor of the Washington State House as an example of a “fair and balanced” reporter. Had I the foresight, I would have copyrighted that moniker before a major news network made it theirs.

With the advent of social media, some people I spent years forming close-knit relationships seem ready (and eager) to let political ideology become the lens through which they see me and others. For these folks, what I shared with them in the past (read: what made us friends in the first place) is no longer of relevance. They aren't interested in the time we both spelled the same word wrong in the spelling bee. Growing up in the same neighborhood, sharing childhood together, supporting each other through thick and thin, now means nothing. Personally, I couldn't care less who you voted for. However, for many people I know, how I voted is a not only a concern of theirs, but something I need to be put in my place for. Why does it make such a difference who I voted for? Why has the check you made at the ballot box now a measure of your worth as a human being? Thanks to the political climate in America, by virtue alone of having a mind of my own and voting for the candidate different from from the vast majority of the folks I became friends with over decades, I (and others who voted along with me) are now labelled a racist, bigot, homophobe, sexist, Islamophobe, or any other disparaging label that fits the political narrative. Anyone who truly knows me knows in their heart that I am none of the above, but that political lens prevents them from allowing them to acknowledge what they already know - I'm not a bad buy. 

It's not just through social media. On more than a few occasions, I'll be at a “mixed company social event”, and someone who thinks they have a bead on my political views will approach me, looking to engage in a heated discussion (read: a one-sided debate). I'm not sure why these wise-acres think this is useful, for they never seem to want to engage in actual dialogue. Rather, they seem motivated to let me know that my opinions make me worse than Hitler, simply for not thinking like them. When approached by those people, I tend to give them a beer and homemade coupons for free hugs. I need more need to give out more hugs. And, perhaps I should switch out the beer for bourbon. That, however may be construed as "too Republican". Vodka? No, too "hacking conspiracy". How about a warm Zima?

Why do some folks seek confrontation over politics? Is it to make themselves feel better about their own political beliefs? Is it a cry for help? Is the confidence in their own world view so low that they have to seek confrontation for justify themselves? It's like trying to watch a movie with someone yelling to you how much they think the movie sucks, no matter how much popcorn you try shoving down their throat (which - by the way - will anger them even more, no matter how much soda you try to get them to wash it down with). Those perpetually unhappy folks seek to change the dynamic of the friendship I have with them, for the purpose (I can only guess) of either turning me into a copy of them, or as some sort of polite way of saying they don't value the founding reason for that friendship.

During my time as a reporter, I met a number of politicians who were passionate in their ideologies, but were not close-minded in their thinking. They knew that not everyone held the same ideology as they did, and were sensitive to all of their constituents. Those politicians earned my respect, and they returned that respect in spades. I don't find it surprising that they treated the "big picture" of politics more maturely than those that use the "us versus them" mentality as means to judge the worth of others. If there is one thing I have gleaned from this political season, it is that too many people put a political party ahead of anything else.

With all that said, I have some wonderful friends who disagree with my voting choices. We choose to agree to disagree, and that's that. I also have many friends with whom there is no inkling of political persuasion. We don't ask, we don't tell, because it doesn't matter. For me, these are the friends I value most, as I never know when I will need a couch to crash on, or a bass to borrow for a gig. The rest – however - behave worse than the worst politicians, and that's what has ruined wonderful friendships.

People don't suck. Becoming wrapped up in politics - making it more important than friendships - makes people suck.