The Craziness Continues

This is absolutely too weird. From AFP:

World celebrities sing to stop global warming

Yeah, really.

GENEVA — British rock group Duran Duran and heavy metal band Scorpions are among 55 world celebrities who have joined in recording a song to draw attention to the global warming crisis, organisers said on Monday.

If you've paid any attention to the global warming nonsense, then you know that carbon dioxide is one of the biggest concerns of the climate change idiots.

If those celebs get together to record a song, they'll be exhaling.... wait for it... carbon dioxide. Will someone explain to me how 55 idiots all exhaling at the same time will have any impact on climate change? Except in the negative? Oh, please, they've got to breathe anyway, so I don't guess it makes any difference at all.

Now, if they'd all stop breathing, for say, 10 days, that might make an impact on climate change.

I'm just sayin'

ACORN is a criminal enterprise

There is an independent film-maker, James O'Keefe, who has made some film in ACORN offices in Baltimore, Washington DC, and New York City. It appears that each of these offices gave him advise on how to commit felonies, including human trafficing.

If three offices of an organization give advise about how to violate the laws of the United States, then that's not a fluke. That's a pattern.

ACORN is denying everything, but the films tell the tale. ACORN is corrupt, more corrupt than many of us ever imagined. Criminally corrupt. Immorally corrupt. And, they draw a lot of their funding from the US Goverment.

Big Government.com is all over it, and Fox News has picked up the story. What's interesting is that ACORN's press release by Bertha Lewis, chief organizer, returns a blank page. Maybe their servers are down from the heavy traffic.

At any rate, it's clear now that ACORN is a continuing criminal enterprise and should immediately lose all funding from the US government. Then, they should be prosecuted under the RICO statutes and the ringleaders imprisoned.

Whaddya think the chances of that happening under the Holder justice department?

Sunday Dawg

There are two sides to every door. The side that Milady is on, and the wrong side. The dog frequently finds himself on the wrong side of the door, realizing too late that Milady is on the other side. Then he freaks out, whines, and generally makes a nuisance of himself until he gets to be on the right side of the door.



I apologize for the darkness of the photo. Here, the dog demonstrates that he is on the wrong side of the door.

In other news, we went to church this morning and spent the afternoon turning wrenches. My step-son's car needed help and when we got into it, realized that the help it needed was immediate. We've replaced the front bearings, a tie-rod end, a ball joint and put brakes on the front wheels. The car is safe now and my grandchildren can ride in it in relative safety.

Dance Club

Milady and I are members of the Magnolia Dance Club, a local gathering of 30-odd couples who meet 10 times a year to dance. We meet at the YWCA in Alexandria. Each month three member couples are tasked with hosting the dance, which means that they set up, decorate, and clean up afterwards. The dance begins promptly at 7:00 p.m. and ends promptly at 10:00 p.m.

We're a bunch of old fogeys, okay? Ten o'clock is plenty late.

This month, the theme is "tailgate party" and we're instructed to wear our favorite team logos. The only college team logo shirt I have is from the University of Alabama. Go Tide! Mildady, an alumni of LSU, has also chosen to wear an Alabama shirt.

This is Tiger Country, and Alabama is generally considered to be persona non grata. We ought to be quite the fashion highlight of the evening.

Luckily, tonight LSU plays Vanderbilt. If they were playing Bama, we'd be ridden out of the place on a rail.

A Crowd

Estimating crowd size is difficult. There are several ways to estimate crowd size, but they're all inexact at best. Every rookie cop learns this fact when he's writing reports. You roll up on the scene of a bar fight and you see people in the parking lot. How big was the lot, how big was the crowd? You can go back and measure the parking lot later, but how big was the crowd of people? Were there a dozen? Fifty? A hundred? Lots of time, it's guess-timation.

There will be disagreement about how big the crowd was that showed up for the Washington D.C. Tea Party today, but some are estimating two million. Two million. That's a lot of folks to be hanging around the Capitol.

Via Glenn Reynolds, we post a picture taken by Mary Katherine Ham from the Newseum balcony in DC.



Are there two million people in that photo? I don't know.

Here's another from RightsPundit.



The Associated Press, ever in the tank for Obama, is saying that Tens of Thousands of people protested today. Yeah, looking at those pictures, I'd say that there was ten thousand people there.

Hopefully, Congress is listening. And watching out the windows.

**UPDATE** Blackfive is estimating a crowd of over a million.

Fox News is saying tens of thousands, but neither AP nor Fox is showing pictures of the crowds. Their shots are close-in shots of protest signs, not panoramic shots like I've posted above.

MSNBC calls the crowd "thousands" with a penchant for understatement that makes me wonder how they sustain any credibility at all. They aren't a news agency any more; they're a political propaganda organ, much like Pravda was during the Cold War.

CBS News (Commie Broadcasting Service) simply re-prints the AP blurb. Tens of Thousands.

CNN doesn't even bother to estimate the size of the crowd. Since Desert Storm, they've been useless anyway. I can't tell you the last time I watched CNN.

It's a big party, that's for damned sure.

Long Day

I went to work this morning at 7:00 a.m. and I got off tonight at 10:30 p.m.

I'm not saying that my job is particularly demanding, but there are a lot of hours in it.

I've got some leftover stew in the microwave and in just a few minutes I'm going to get in the shower. It's been a long day.

Calendar

My brother lives in Townshend, VT. Every year the community puts together a calendar, filled with birthdays and town meetings and anniversaries and they sell the darned thing as a fund-raiser.

Years ago, we submitted all the family information and each year we buy a calendar.

I'm sure that there are folks in Townshend who wonder who are all those folks that they don't recognize.



Still, it's very cool getting a calendar from a little town, far, far away. I got mine in the mail today and I'm very pleased with the small connection with family in the frozen north.

Oh, I almost forgot. Happy Birthday, Dianne.

Eight years

Eight years ago, at just about this time of the afternoon, I was standing in a jail dormitory, conducting a count. I was a shift Lieutenant at the parish jail, relieving my good friend and co-worker, so he could go home and get some sleep. It was a Monday night and he'd be there to relieve me at about 4:30 the next morning. The night wasn't particularly memorable. Counts, feeding, rounds, in-processing, the standard night shift. I don't believe that I released anyone that night.

I wasn't married, although I had met the woman who would later become my wife. My parents were on a well-deserved vacation to see the American West. This was supposed to be the last night of their trip. They'd get on a plane the next morning.

After the shift was over, I went home, kicked off my boots and took a shower. Fell into bed about six a.m. At about 8:00 a.m. the phone rang. A good friend was telling me to turn on the TV. Yeah, right. I hung up the phone and rolled over. Five minutes later the phone rang again. "Get your sorry butt out of bed and turn on the television. We're under attack!" I got up, turned on the TV and made coffee.

My parents did get on the plane that morning, but they were ordered off. All the air traffic in the United States had been canceled.

I was sitting on the couch, groggily wondering what was going on, watching the first tower burn, when I saw what was later identified as UA Flight 175 crash into the second tower. I sat straight up on the couch. I knew that we were at war.

My little house on Bayou Derbonne, in southern Natchitoches Parish was under the airways of a half-dozen airports. On a normal morning it was common to go outside and see a dozen contrails crossing the sky. Between commentaries, I'd step outside and look at the sky. Nothing. It had been years since I had seen the sky totally devoid of air traffic.

Sometime that morning, I got a call from my sister. My parents were stranded in Las Vegas. She was distraught, until I reminded her that Vegas has hotels and restaurants and if you're going to be stranded anywhere, Vegas isn't a bad choice. They got home a week later.

In the interim, I've changed jobs twice, moved twice, and gotten married. My life is a lot better than the folks who were caught in those towers that fateful morning.

I remember. I'm grateful.

It's been eight years.

Hot Water

Milady likes hot water when she showers and here lately the water heater has been tripping a breaker infrequently. It's an electric model as we live in an all-electric house. Tonight was the third night in as many weeks that the breaker was tripped.

Milady loves her hot water. PawPaw is fond of hot water showers also. I looked online and it looks like I can hie myself down to Lowes or Homey Depot and pick up a water heater for about $400.00.

I detest Home Depot, so that's not really an issue. I'll call around tomorrow and see if I can find a better price. On Saturday, I'll replace the water heater.

Hell.

At least it didn't wait until the opening morning of deer season before it went out.

Remember when?

David sent me some Chevy posters and I have to admit, they bring back memories.



Yeah, I remember carbs. The Holley 4-barrel was a big aftermarket item, along with Crane cams.



Yeah, I remember her.

Before and Now

Back about the turn of the century, Junior and I started a little e-zine called The Frugal Outdoorsman. We took file photos and posted them so that people would know what we look like.

A person emailed me some time ago and I realized that I don't look like that anymore. I'm the default picture taker around here, so I'm often behind the lens.

Here's the before picture.



Here's the now picture.



Damn! Ten years is rough on a fellow, isn't it?

I guess it's about time to change the file photos. Junior! You can steal it from here, or I can email you the photo. Your choice.

Labor Day

Labor Day, a day set aside to commemorate American Labor. I remember Labor Day picnics from my youth. Dad was a union member, a member of the CWA, Communications Workers of America. The union held a big picnic every Labor Day and we'd attend. Lots of folks would attend. There would be barbeque and dirty rice and salads and beans and big thick slices of garlic bread. It was a great party.

Those were the salad days for American unions. Not so much these days. Still, school is out of session today, so I'm off. And, it's a tradition to fire up the barbeque pit on Labor Day, so in a couple of hours I'll light the fire. Milady and I started plans to have a couple of friends over and cook some chickens. Those plans swelled, as they're apt to do, and I figure we'll have about 20 souls to feed this afternoon. I've got a pork butt in the slow cooker and I'll put several chickens and some sausage on the pit. With beans and 'taters and salad it should be quite festive.

Sunday Morning Dawg

We've got a fence around our back yard and the dog has free run. He likes to watch traffic along the road by laying on his belly and putting his chin on the ground.



He's in the center of the photo. Here's another, taken from much closer.



He's laying out there now.

Pawn Shop Crawling

My middle sister came in from Mandeville to spend the weekend at Momma's. She wanted to go pawn-shopping, so we went to my favorite shop to look around. There were six of us and the ladies gravitated to the silver. They picked up a few nice pieces of silver plate and one piece of sterling.

I had been in the same pawn shop this morning and was looking around the gun counter. I found a 12 gauge Remington 870 Express, magnum receiver, vent rib shotgun for $150.00 out the door. The counter guy threw in a soft gun case. It needs a good cleaning and oiling, but is in overall excellent condition. I feel like I hit the jackpot.

Tax-Free Weekend

Louisiana is in the midst of something called the Louisiana Second Amendment Weekend Sales Tax Holiday, and I have a rifle on order. I ordered it two weeks ago and told the counterguy that I intended to pick it up this weekend.

I called him late last week and he told me that the rifle was backordered but that they expected it this week. I called him yesterday and he said that it wasn't in yet, but that hope springs eternal and he's hoping it's on the truck this morning. I'll check back with him later in the day.

Hunting is huge in Louisiana, a major economic engine:

Hunting is big business in Louisiana, with more than 250,000 estimated hunters spending hundreds of millions of dollars a year on the sport. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service reported that more than $200 million in hunting equipment was purchased in Louisiana in 2006. The FBI conducted gun checks on roughly 250,000 firearms purchased in Louisiana in 2008.

I know that I spend a fair chunk of my discretionary income on guns, ammo, hunting licenses. It's my hobby, although when I was younger my main hobby was hunting and now it's evolved more toward shooting. I still like hunting and go to the woods regularly, but nowadays the hunting aspect is more (for me) of a way to connect with my grandkids.

The hunting sports need new blood and there is a perspective that hunting is expensive. While everything costs money, I've always roughly equated hunting with golf. When you factor in the cost of clubs, green fees, cart rental, shoes and related accessories, the cost of the two games are roughly equivalent.

Still, there are ways to get into hunting that are fairly cost-effective. A .22 rifle costs about $100.00, a box of ammo costs about $10.00. If you don't want the rifle, a smallbore shotgun can be had off the used gun rack for $150.00. The basic hunting license costs $15.00. Public land is generally free to use and there is lots of it in Louisiana, but if you chose to use wildlife management areas, the basic ticket is another $15.00. (Don't get me started on requiring a permit to use public land... grrrr!).

You don't need camo. You don't need a 4-wheeler, you don't need lots of things that the stores want to sell you. Take a bargain shotgun, a pocket full of shells, and walk along a convenient creek-bank. Squirrel hunting is still a bargain.

Take a kid hunting this year. You'll have as much fun as he (or she) does.

Friday Football

This is a "turn around" post. I just got in from school, and in about 45 minutes I've got to turn around and go back. Tonight is Week One of Louisiana High School Football. High schools all over the state have been tuning bands, painting lines, practicing cheers and having pep rallies. In this season, as in all seasons, hope springs eternal.

Our coach has us playing some tough teams in the early weeks, before district play. Hopefully our boys will know that they're playing the big dogs and know that once they get to district-level teams the hard part is behind them.

I've worked at the High School for seven years and haven't seen a football game yet. There's lots to do during the game, and while I catch a few minutes of the action from time to time, I'm generally working during a game. If I want to see the team play, I go to an away game.

Ten weeks of football, then we start the playoff season. Starting tonight.

**UPDATE** It was ugly, it was nasty. Bolton lost to Peabody, 41-0.

Just damn!

Courtesy of SayUncle, we find a thread at the arfcom forums where a guy made a display for his store.



No, it's not a real cartridge. He calls it the 5.7mm Xpress and says it launches a 75 grain Hornady bullet at 7500 fps.

Life intrudes

Life intrudes on blogging.

I've just now come inside and kicked off my boots, checking email before heading back outside to distribute some RoundUp to the weeds. RoundUp is my friend.

However, I checked comments and found one that needed moderation. I like comments on my blog, read them all, consider them carefully. It's okay to disagree with me. It makes me think and reconsider my arguments. Comments are good, and not just the ones that agree with me.

However, there is one comment I'll always delete. Those with racist or profane language. They get clicked into the reject pile never to be heard from again. This is my little corner of the internet and I won't have commenters sully it with hate or profanity. Because I hold the reins, I'll delete any comments that don't comply with basic decency. What words am I talking about? Basically, George Carlin's list. Plus, any words that are racist. You know the one's I'm talking about. If not, comment and we'll see if I delete it. My choice.

Don't give me that Freedom of Speech crap. I've heard it. I won't let you cuss in my living room, and I'll delete inappropriate comments in my blog. Got it?

Still, everyone is free to comment. If you come in here and sully the place, I'll delete it. Fair enough?

Good.

Watermelon

I don't get to see my youngest grandchild as often as I'd like, because his parents jobs require that they live in flat, humid Florida. My daugher-in-law was born and reared in the Sunshine State and she has her dream job.

So, I go to her blog routinely and get pictures of the young'un. It's linked over on the sidebar too. More pictures await.

Here's a wonderful picture of the least one eating watermelon.



That's my boy!

Tuesday linkage

Lot of folks, with the ammo shortage of the past months (which I think we're coming out of) lament the shortage and think about beginning the craft of making their own ammunition.

They think it's expensive. They're wrong. A good basic reloading setup can be had for little more than $100.00, which you'll recoup when you load your first five boxes of ammo.

I wrote an article about a basic setup and you can find it here.

My buddy Junior, not to be outdone wrote a couple of articles about reloading in a tent, to include casting the bullets. The two articles can be found here, and here. He makes his bullets on a campfire and loads the ammo on a stump. It doesn't get much more low-tech than that, and people have been making ammo like that for over a hundred years.

There's not much to reloading if you pay attention to a few basic rules. It's a craft that's easily learned and most folks can learn by reading a good manual. As a matter of fact, my most basic advise to any new reloader is to buy a manual first and read it cover to cover. Don't buy anything else until you read the manual. After that, getting what you need is easy.

There's a great thread over at The High Road about getting into reloading. The thread is here and gives a lot of information that you might not find anywhere else, with links to suppliers.

If you reload long enough, you'll have several hundred dollars of equipment and supplies on your bench, but that's just for convenience. Good serviceable ammo can be made with very little outlay.