The last week in June, Senator Michael Bennet came to Happy Valley for a stop on a whirlwind tour for his campaign to remain a US Senator. The stop included a tour of low-income housing in GJ, a meet and greet with a discharged soldier who got into one of the Housing Authority's apartments with his 3 girls (mom said goodbye and hit the road as soon as he got back from Iraq), and a meet and greet and photo opp with an elderly retired Marine who also lives in a GJHA apartment.
Harold E. Thompson. He got about 90 seconds with the Senator. I think the Senator would have enjoyed more time with him, but his staffers had to stay on schedule. So for a bit, Harold just stood there with nobody paying attention to him. That was just not right.
So I went up and introduced myself, and thanked him for his service. Asked him when he served. He told me he was an "in-between Marine", meaning he served after WWII and before Korea. He was stationed on Okinawa, and his division was training to go back to Iwo Jima to capture or kill the last Japanese soldiers that were still holding their positions, refusing to believe that US forces had taken the island.
He fell in love with a Navy nurse, married her after they were both discharged, ans both went to school on the GI Bill and became teachers. She, of course, made $1,000 less per year than he did. And he made only $5,000 per year. Sweated through buying a house and wondering how they would make the $75 per month mortgage payment. Raised two boys, and both taught for 40 years before retiring, and he lost his bride to cancer.
I thoroughly enjoyed visiting with him. I took a picture of him and the Senator together. Cropped it nicely, printed a 5x7 and put it in a nice frame and had Jody's staff get it to him.
Yesterday I received a thank you note from Harold E. Thompson. He is 83 years old, doesn't know "how those damn computers work", but sent this email:
"I RECEIVED THE VERY NICE FRAMED PHOTO OF THE US SENATOR BENNET AND MYSELF.
THE FRAME WAS VERY LOVELY ALSO. THANK YOU.
HAROLD E. THOMPSON, 4TH DEGREE KNIGHT OF COLUMBUS COUNCIL 13621, MEMBER OF GJHA MEMBER ADVISORY BOARD, US MARINE CORPS VETERAN, HONORABLE DISCHARGE, FATHER OF TWO US MARINE SONS LOST SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE IRAQ WAR.
THANK YOU AGAIN AND BEST WISHES.
HAROLD E. THOMPSON"
He had told me while we talked that he'd lost his sons in Iraq. I snapped to and bowed my head when I offered my condolences. And as I shook his hand, he locked my eyes with his and just said "Semper Fi".
One more veteran I will never forget.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Grouch, Part Two
OK, it may be a bit crazy, but I’m starting to think I’m gonna have to keep The Grouch. I did have a guy come up and ask me how much I wanted for it. Hello? You can’t read the sign in the window? And then asked me about what year it was, etc. Once again, you can’t read the information sheet I put in the window? One can only assume that Mac would definitely not want you to drive, let alone own this truck.
I don’t really need to own three vehicles. But let’s consider 2 that I do own and drive daily.
Both belonged to my dads.
I drive a 1990 Ford E-150 van named Phred that my folks put 253,000 miles on before Dad offered to sell it to me. It has held, hauled, moved more stuff – and also has been a camper for Dad and I – and I spend what I need to in order to keep it running. Dad did the same. Why stop that now when it’s worked so well for 20 years?
I drive a 1978 Dodge D-150 pickup with a monster 440 cubic inch V-8 that once again purrs and boy howdy, Mac would be proud and smiling. That truck can pretty much haul or grab onto and pull whatever in the world needs hauling, grabbed or pulled. Again, whatever it takes to keep it running.
My father taught me about auto mechanics at a young age. How many 13 year olds replace head gaskets on a Dodge 318 in a 1968 van? (Which I later wrecked.) I did all the maintenance on my first car – a ’65 Mustang and yeah, you all ought to be really jealous about that – basically because my dad encouraged me to do so. Later in life, I fell in love with and married a gorgeous woman whose dad had the Shop Of Dreams – he built it, and I came and used it. From my ’72 Lincoln Town Car (with the Opera Coupe windows and a 460 engine) to my 75 Cadillac Eldorado with its 500 cubic inch engine and all of TLMK’s cars in between.
I’ve owned vehicles from the 1970’s with the largest engines Detroit made at the time. Still own one. It’s not politically correct as a Toyota Prius. And quite frankly, I don’t care. If it’s in my stable, it’s going to be tuned to run as efficiently as can be, and going to do what it was built for. Be that roll along the interstate at 75 mph without breathing hard, or work like mad at hauling and moving stuff.
I don’t really care that my vehicles aren’t pretty. I don’t get folks that buy a $40,000 4WD pickup and put monster tires on in and ride around town 3 feet above everyone else and are all proud – but never take the vehicle off road. Hell, Jody’s Steve (her Yukon) has been in 4WD LO more times than I can remember. 111,111 miles and asking “what’s next? “ Trucks are made for using. We have three. We use them.
In the immortal words of Don Henley (of Eagles fame), get over it.
OK, maybe I really do need to own Phred and The Grouch. After all, who else would take care of them?
I don’t really need to own three vehicles. But let’s consider 2 that I do own and drive daily.
Both belonged to my dads.
I drive a 1990 Ford E-150 van named Phred that my folks put 253,000 miles on before Dad offered to sell it to me. It has held, hauled, moved more stuff – and also has been a camper for Dad and I – and I spend what I need to in order to keep it running. Dad did the same. Why stop that now when it’s worked so well for 20 years?
I drive a 1978 Dodge D-150 pickup with a monster 440 cubic inch V-8 that once again purrs and boy howdy, Mac would be proud and smiling. That truck can pretty much haul or grab onto and pull whatever in the world needs hauling, grabbed or pulled. Again, whatever it takes to keep it running.
My father taught me about auto mechanics at a young age. How many 13 year olds replace head gaskets on a Dodge 318 in a 1968 van? (Which I later wrecked.) I did all the maintenance on my first car – a ’65 Mustang and yeah, you all ought to be really jealous about that – basically because my dad encouraged me to do so. Later in life, I fell in love with and married a gorgeous woman whose dad had the Shop Of Dreams – he built it, and I came and used it. From my ’72 Lincoln Town Car (with the Opera Coupe windows and a 460 engine) to my 75 Cadillac Eldorado with its 500 cubic inch engine and all of TLMK’s cars in between.
I’ve owned vehicles from the 1970’s with the largest engines Detroit made at the time. Still own one. It’s not politically correct as a Toyota Prius. And quite frankly, I don’t care. If it’s in my stable, it’s going to be tuned to run as efficiently as can be, and going to do what it was built for. Be that roll along the interstate at 75 mph without breathing hard, or work like mad at hauling and moving stuff.
I don’t really care that my vehicles aren’t pretty. I don’t get folks that buy a $40,000 4WD pickup and put monster tires on in and ride around town 3 feet above everyone else and are all proud – but never take the vehicle off road. Hell, Jody’s Steve (her Yukon) has been in 4WD LO more times than I can remember. 111,111 miles and asking “what’s next? “ Trucks are made for using. We have three. We use them.
In the immortal words of Don Henley (of Eagles fame), get over it.
OK, maybe I really do need to own Phred and The Grouch. After all, who else would take care of them?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Truth About Tomatoes
OK, actually the truth about heirloom tomatoes, which is my botanical experiment this summer.
They’re ugly.
The Best Boy, Better Beef, Early Girl and various other beefsteak varieties have been bred over the past few decades to produce the quintessential plump, round, red tomato so favored by Hollywood and 5th Avenue for grocery ads designed to make your mouth water and your wallet lighter. A perfect beefsteak tomato may just as well be Gloria Swanson telling Mr. DeMille that it’s ready for its close-up now.
And then there are Black Plums, Black Krims, and Red Zebras. And Brandywines. And Dark Porter Cherry Tomatoes.
These will not win any beauty contests. If one didn’t know they were supposed to be ugly, I think a whole bunch of these would be plucked and tossed out with tomorrow’s trash.
Ah, but if you’ve ever tasted a Black Plum Tomato at the peak of ripeness as we did yesterday, well, you’ll have a completely new appreciation for this fruit. And yes, it’s a fruit, notwithstanding Ronald Reagan’s insistence that ketchup was a vegetable.
Several tomatoes are turning orange, and some are even turning red in my little garden. In a couple of days it will be time to fry up some bacon and get some really crisp lettuce. BLT – one of the great things about summer and tomatoes fresh off the vine.
Think heirloom next summer when you plant your garden.
They’re ugly.
The Best Boy, Better Beef, Early Girl and various other beefsteak varieties have been bred over the past few decades to produce the quintessential plump, round, red tomato so favored by Hollywood and 5th Avenue for grocery ads designed to make your mouth water and your wallet lighter. A perfect beefsteak tomato may just as well be Gloria Swanson telling Mr. DeMille that it’s ready for its close-up now.
And then there are Black Plums, Black Krims, and Red Zebras. And Brandywines. And Dark Porter Cherry Tomatoes.
These will not win any beauty contests. If one didn’t know they were supposed to be ugly, I think a whole bunch of these would be plucked and tossed out with tomorrow’s trash.
Ah, but if you’ve ever tasted a Black Plum Tomato at the peak of ripeness as we did yesterday, well, you’ll have a completely new appreciation for this fruit. And yes, it’s a fruit, notwithstanding Ronald Reagan’s insistence that ketchup was a vegetable.
Several tomatoes are turning orange, and some are even turning red in my little garden. In a couple of days it will be time to fry up some bacon and get some really crisp lettuce. BLT – one of the great things about summer and tomatoes fresh off the vine.
Think heirloom next summer when you plant your garden.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Jeeves - a Brandy here please?
And so I found myself last week in Englewood, CO in a quite non-descript shop that I had stumbled across online.
On the internet, it was a gun shop. They had a particular rifle that caught my attention, so I decided to go see it.
In reality, it’s a small shop that happens to carry about 60 or 70 rare firearms. Mostly one-off, engraved, rare, historical weapons that you only see in movies.
And they’re real, not re-productions.
I went to see a Kimber of Oregon Model 82 in .22 caliber. I don’t expect many receiving this to know what that rifle is. Just maybe the finest .22 ever built. Price - $1,250. If you could have seen it, you’d know it was worth it. The salesman even encouraged me to work the action. Smooth as silk.
It was sold in less than 24 hours- went back the next day and it was gone.
And I also saw rare firearms – some of which will never be fired. A Browning A-Bolt .308 with Olympian Grade engraving – even the scope mounts were engraved. A true example of a firearm as a piece of art. Way out of my price range.
The incredible? A 1920’s Holland and Holland double rifle, chambered in .375 H&H. Same firearm used by Robert Redford & Meryl Streep in “Out of Africa”. Price? Was $45,000, now down to $39,500. And I got to handle it.
They also carry Filson clothes, Holmes leather bags, and the best of everything a gentleman might need during a day spent afield for partridges, doves, pheasant or African game. And a leather sofa and chairs to enjoy a cigar and a brandy while one recalls special moments of the hunt.
This is not a place in which one “drops in”. Plan to spend some time there.
Also – they do not carry handguns at all.
Not being able to afford the firearms, I did what I could – bought a pair of Filson boot socks. Gotta do something to make sure a place like this stays in business.
On the internet, it was a gun shop. They had a particular rifle that caught my attention, so I decided to go see it.
In reality, it’s a small shop that happens to carry about 60 or 70 rare firearms. Mostly one-off, engraved, rare, historical weapons that you only see in movies.
And they’re real, not re-productions.
I went to see a Kimber of Oregon Model 82 in .22 caliber. I don’t expect many receiving this to know what that rifle is. Just maybe the finest .22 ever built. Price - $1,250. If you could have seen it, you’d know it was worth it. The salesman even encouraged me to work the action. Smooth as silk.
It was sold in less than 24 hours- went back the next day and it was gone.
And I also saw rare firearms – some of which will never be fired. A Browning A-Bolt .308 with Olympian Grade engraving – even the scope mounts were engraved. A true example of a firearm as a piece of art. Way out of my price range.
The incredible? A 1920’s Holland and Holland double rifle, chambered in .375 H&H. Same firearm used by Robert Redford & Meryl Streep in “Out of Africa”. Price? Was $45,000, now down to $39,500. And I got to handle it.
They also carry Filson clothes, Holmes leather bags, and the best of everything a gentleman might need during a day spent afield for partridges, doves, pheasant or African game. And a leather sofa and chairs to enjoy a cigar and a brandy while one recalls special moments of the hunt.
This is not a place in which one “drops in”. Plan to spend some time there.
Also – they do not carry handguns at all.
Not being able to afford the firearms, I did what I could – bought a pair of Filson boot socks. Gotta do something to make sure a place like this stays in business.
All The Tea In China...
Seems to be in our cupboard right now. Ok, not only China, but Ceylon and Great Britain and Sri Lanka as well. During our trip to Denver last week, we found a new tea shop and also went to 2 of our favorite specialty food stores.
The new tea shop: Capital Tea on S. Broadway in Denver. I found an online coupon – two small pots of tea, two sandwiches or salads, and two dessert pastries (scones, shortbreads, etc). Paid $15, and had a wonderful time. And an excellent lunch. TLMK opted for the Selimhill Estate Organic Darjeeling (FTGFOP) that sells for $39.38/lb. I chose a First Flush Castleton Estate Darjeeling (FTGFOP) which sells for $126/lb. She had a salad, I had a gourmet grilled cheese sammy (Edam, Gruyere and White Cheddar on Rye). And shortbreads for our dessert.
And of course, their tea selection is two pages long. We left with 4 different types of tea and some tea accessories. A very relaxing time in the middle of a rush rush day.
Lipton tea will probably not be found in this house. Her Loveliness will now be bringing her own tea to various restaurants.
The List of what we now have:
Jasmine Pearls (hard to explain, but a very soothing/relaxing tea that TLMK likes before bed)
Selimhill Estate Organic Darjeeling
4 Seasons Oolong
Assam Black Tea
Grace’s Darjeeling 6000 (all from trees grown above 6,000’ elevation)
Grace’s Connoisseur Master Blend Black Tea
Ahmad English Afternoon
Taylor’s of Harrogate Afternoon Darjeeling
Republic of Tea Big Bold Black Tea (limited, only available at Whole Foods. Makes fantastic iced tea!)
We have a few others floating around. And most of what we purchased last week was 2 or 4 oz. quantities.
We have three Mr. Coffees in the house – only one actually gets coffee brewed in it.
“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” C.S. Lewis
The new tea shop: Capital Tea on S. Broadway in Denver. I found an online coupon – two small pots of tea, two sandwiches or salads, and two dessert pastries (scones, shortbreads, etc). Paid $15, and had a wonderful time. And an excellent lunch. TLMK opted for the Selimhill Estate Organic Darjeeling (FTGFOP) that sells for $39.38/lb. I chose a First Flush Castleton Estate Darjeeling (FTGFOP) which sells for $126/lb. She had a salad, I had a gourmet grilled cheese sammy (Edam, Gruyere and White Cheddar on Rye). And shortbreads for our dessert.
And of course, their tea selection is two pages long. We left with 4 different types of tea and some tea accessories. A very relaxing time in the middle of a rush rush day.
Lipton tea will probably not be found in this house. Her Loveliness will now be bringing her own tea to various restaurants.
The List of what we now have:
Jasmine Pearls (hard to explain, but a very soothing/relaxing tea that TLMK likes before bed)
Selimhill Estate Organic Darjeeling
4 Seasons Oolong
Assam Black Tea
Grace’s Darjeeling 6000 (all from trees grown above 6,000’ elevation)
Grace’s Connoisseur Master Blend Black Tea
Ahmad English Afternoon
Taylor’s of Harrogate Afternoon Darjeeling
Republic of Tea Big Bold Black Tea (limited, only available at Whole Foods. Makes fantastic iced tea!)
We have a few others floating around. And most of what we purchased last week was 2 or 4 oz. quantities.
We have three Mr. Coffees in the house – only one actually gets coffee brewed in it.
“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” C.S. Lewis
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Send In The Clowns
Imagine my surprise when I opened up a piece of mail today from a credit card company whose credit card issued to me years ago was cancelled by me years ago.
I girded my loins (how often does one get to use that phrase?) and opened it to find this:
A check made out to me for $0.22.
Yep – 22 cents.
An account that I opened 12 or 13 years ago, and immediately closed when they switched to being an American Express account (worst card in the world).
Now, it’s time for some math.
First, it cost 37.5 cents to mail me a $0.22 check. $0.37.5 in the debit column.
Second: It probably cost GE (oh – maybe I didn’t mention who pays AMEX debts?) a couple of minutes of somebody’s time to enter my retired account number to send it along to another computer. So, still giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, let’s assume someone took two minutes. $7.25 per hour (current minimum wage) divided by 60 (to get a current minimum wage per minute) equals $0.120833 (repitend). Times two.
So, given the mailing cost - $0.37.5 plus Labor - $0.24, (and I’m being generous and rounding down), we’re up to $0.61 so far to get a check for $0.22 mailed to me.
BUT WAIT!!! THERE’S MORE!!!
The computers that had to run the program.
The cost to run those computers.
The printers needed to print the check.
The hourly wage of those who had to monitor and change ink cartridges.
The paper on which this $0.22 check was printed.
The gasoline required to deliver a MASS number of these checks to a Post Office.
The energy required to sort, collate & distribute all these checks to various zip codes using various machines…
Well, you get the idea. Absurdity to the extreme.
I have not yet decided if I will cash that $0.22 check or frame it. The idea of not cashing it and screwing up GE’s books for years is somehow perversely appealing to me.
Not that me not cashing that check would actually have GE accountants worried for years. In the grand scheme of things, I’m just not that important.
Still, perhaps what I got in the mail was… a reality check?
Hmm…
I girded my loins (how often does one get to use that phrase?) and opened it to find this:
A check made out to me for $0.22.
Yep – 22 cents.
An account that I opened 12 or 13 years ago, and immediately closed when they switched to being an American Express account (worst card in the world).
Now, it’s time for some math.
First, it cost 37.5 cents to mail me a $0.22 check. $0.37.5 in the debit column.
Second: It probably cost GE (oh – maybe I didn’t mention who pays AMEX debts?) a couple of minutes of somebody’s time to enter my retired account number to send it along to another computer. So, still giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, let’s assume someone took two minutes. $7.25 per hour (current minimum wage) divided by 60 (to get a current minimum wage per minute) equals $0.120833 (repitend). Times two.
So, given the mailing cost - $0.37.5 plus Labor - $0.24, (and I’m being generous and rounding down), we’re up to $0.61 so far to get a check for $0.22 mailed to me.
BUT WAIT!!! THERE’S MORE!!!
The computers that had to run the program.
The cost to run those computers.
The printers needed to print the check.
The hourly wage of those who had to monitor and change ink cartridges.
The paper on which this $0.22 check was printed.
The gasoline required to deliver a MASS number of these checks to a Post Office.
The energy required to sort, collate & distribute all these checks to various zip codes using various machines…
Well, you get the idea. Absurdity to the extreme.
I have not yet decided if I will cash that $0.22 check or frame it. The idea of not cashing it and screwing up GE’s books for years is somehow perversely appealing to me.
Not that me not cashing that check would actually have GE accountants worried for years. In the grand scheme of things, I’m just not that important.
Still, perhaps what I got in the mail was… a reality check?
Hmm…
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
The Grouch
That is the name that has been given to my latest old vehicle – Mac’s 1978 Dodge pickup. It fits for a couple of reasons. First, Mac used to be known as “The Grouch of the House”, and second, this pickup seems to grouch at doing things one would expect from a vehicle. Like staying in gear when you hit a bump. Squealing like mad when you make a turn before he’s warmed up (power steering pump needs to be rebuilt). Receiving only right-wing talk radio or sports talk stations, since it only has an AM radio and it seems that AM radio has been taken over by either political pundits who spend hours shouting at the rain while offering no positive suggestions, or sports pundits who spend hours shouting at the rain while telling all their callers that they are idiots. Notwithstanding the fact that most of aforementioned pundits have ever held elected office or played sports professionally (I said most – I know there are exceptions). AM radio seems to have no music anymore.
Oh well, be that as it may…
Went out to work on The Grouch this morning. It needs a new speedometer needle, and the bushing on the back of the instrument could use a spray of graphite (what’s left of the needle bounces a bit). It also needed a new lamp for the right front turn indicator. So after TLMK left for work, I went out to move The Grouch onto the driveway and into the shade. He fired right up, and as soon as I dropped him into gear, the horn started blasting. Just for a couple of seconds. Put him back in park and let him warm up. Dropped him into gear and started to back up and there went the horn again. Also noticed the alternator gauge was showing that the battery was charging pretty strong. I’ve suspected for a while that the alternator needs to be replaced. Good thing I have a spare.
So I decide to take it out and run it for a bit to help the battery charge faster. Getting up to speed while going past a school where some gals were having a soccer practice, the horn decides to go off again. This time for about a full minute. It stops, and doesn’t act up again while I get it home and back in the driveway.
OK – let’s take care of a couple of simple things. Replacing a turn signal lamp on a vehicle of that vintage is a matter of removing two screws, removing a bulb, putting a new bulb into the socket, and replacing the two screws holding the whole thing in place. Wrong. The base of the bulb seems to have gotten itself welded to the socket. The glass came out (amazingly in one piece), and the metal base stayed in place. With what looked like a bit of glass that had melted and re-hardened into a bluish blob at the bottom. So that will now require getting a new socket and rebuilding the turn indicator assembly. Put things back together and move on to the next job.
Sit inside the truck and take the dashboard off to get to the speedometer. Pretty easy – I’ve done it before. Ready to fit the new needle to the stem, and… I’ve lost the needle I got up in Cheyenne. I’m thinking many bad words. It’s getting hot out by now, and the cab is no longer in the shade. Fine. I’ll leave the dash disassembled and move it back onto the street until I can get the parts to fix things another morning. Start him up, and the horn starts blaring again. And won’t stop until I turn it off. Now I’m saying many bad words.
But also a prayer, and the next time I start him up, he behaves and I move him to the street without incident. We will meet again in battle another day.
Did I mention I love old vehicles?
Oh well, be that as it may…
Went out to work on The Grouch this morning. It needs a new speedometer needle, and the bushing on the back of the instrument could use a spray of graphite (what’s left of the needle bounces a bit). It also needed a new lamp for the right front turn indicator. So after TLMK left for work, I went out to move The Grouch onto the driveway and into the shade. He fired right up, and as soon as I dropped him into gear, the horn started blasting. Just for a couple of seconds. Put him back in park and let him warm up. Dropped him into gear and started to back up and there went the horn again. Also noticed the alternator gauge was showing that the battery was charging pretty strong. I’ve suspected for a while that the alternator needs to be replaced. Good thing I have a spare.
So I decide to take it out and run it for a bit to help the battery charge faster. Getting up to speed while going past a school where some gals were having a soccer practice, the horn decides to go off again. This time for about a full minute. It stops, and doesn’t act up again while I get it home and back in the driveway.
OK – let’s take care of a couple of simple things. Replacing a turn signal lamp on a vehicle of that vintage is a matter of removing two screws, removing a bulb, putting a new bulb into the socket, and replacing the two screws holding the whole thing in place. Wrong. The base of the bulb seems to have gotten itself welded to the socket. The glass came out (amazingly in one piece), and the metal base stayed in place. With what looked like a bit of glass that had melted and re-hardened into a bluish blob at the bottom. So that will now require getting a new socket and rebuilding the turn indicator assembly. Put things back together and move on to the next job.
Sit inside the truck and take the dashboard off to get to the speedometer. Pretty easy – I’ve done it before. Ready to fit the new needle to the stem, and… I’ve lost the needle I got up in Cheyenne. I’m thinking many bad words. It’s getting hot out by now, and the cab is no longer in the shade. Fine. I’ll leave the dash disassembled and move it back onto the street until I can get the parts to fix things another morning. Start him up, and the horn starts blaring again. And won’t stop until I turn it off. Now I’m saying many bad words.
But also a prayer, and the next time I start him up, he behaves and I move him to the street without incident. We will meet again in battle another day.
Did I mention I love old vehicles?
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