More Buses (and Football Players)

Been a little busy on a project today, but here's a little update on buses and Moogie's neighborhood.

While sitting on the front porch with the dogs, I managed to catch a bus making the turn onto the sidestreet by our bedroom.  Imagine the vrooming and roaring up-close and personal.  This afternoon, the driver actually made the turn without having to back up!

The next scenario concerns me a little (say hi to Rosie!).  Sophie Wright now has a football team!  I'm a huge fan of high school football! 

But, as I mentioned in an earlier post, the schoolyard at Sophie Wright is asphalt, and usually has buses parked in it.  It's adequate for the guys to stretch and do a little conditioning, but asphalt doesn't exactly lend itself to scrimmaging.  So, the team double-times it a few blocks down the street to Lawrence Square, a little green space park large enough to run a few plays.

Then they walk back to school.  And they disregard the sidewalks and often don't look for cars on the cross street that have the right-of-way.  I've mentioned it to the coaching staff -- I just hope that nothing tragic happens. 

Go Warriors!

Obamacare: "Be Very Afraid" Starts Today

Well, here's a little uplifter to make your day.  Not.

I went to a doc today for a semi-annual check-in.  He's a really nice guy -- he's a football fan and member of one of the more satiric, irreverent Carnival Krewes, so you know he's got a good sense of humor.  And since he's a rheumatologist who treats people who can have terribly painful chronic conditions, you know he's sympathetic and compassionate.  (Don't worry about Moogie -- she's fine!)

Pepper has been having recurring episodes with an exquisitely painful ankle, so I asked the good Doc today whether he's accepting new patients.  His immediate response?  "Is he on Medicare?  We're not accepting new Medicare patients."  You could tell it pained him to have to say that aloud -- he looked down at his hands and slowly shook his head from side to side as he said it.

Fortunately for us, it turns out that since Pepper has primary insurance and uses Tricare only for secondary coverage at present -- plus Moogie being the charming, stellar, model patient she is, vouching for him -- he agreed to see Pepper.

But.

He explained that his practice can't accept new Medicare/Tricare patients, stay afloat fiscally, and protect its current Medicare/Tricare patients because they're looking at a 30% reimbursement cut after the first of next year.  Hello, Obamacare.

My Daddy told me that, during his last visit to his Primary Care Doc at the Arkansas teaching hospital, before they drew blood for the tests ordered by the doc they ran each test by Tricare/Medicare to see if they'd be accepted.  A few weren't going to be reimbursed because they had been run too recently on other visits.  

After consulting with the doc, they just decided not to do one test.  For another, they already have figured out a way to end-run it through coding. 

So.  Hello, Mr. Obamacare.  It's now apparent that we have active rationing in place despite what the O'Care proponents might aver.  And, more importantly, we have the medical community engaged in proactive mechanisms to game the system.  Not to defraud, mind you, just to game.

I'm not sure what's the scariest part of this whole imbroglio.  There are plenty of options for "scariest," not the least of which involves the Secretary of Health and Human Services tacitly threatening the insurance industry with economic sanctions. 

Halloween must be coming early this year.

Resurgent Royalty and Declining Socialism on the International Front

Interesting developments in the international arena.  Venezuela and North Korea have held elections! 

Sort of.

While Venezuela's fashion-plate "president" Chavez is trying to spin the results of last weekend's legislative elections, it looks like the good people of Venezuela (at least, those without government jobs and those who have their own food sources)  have grown weary of living under a virtual dictatorship.  I suspect that they have grown wearier still of socialism and government-run everything, including media outlets and golf courses.  Hugo sported a snazzy track suit as he cast his ballot, but I expect he'll be shifting  to "statesman" attire PDQ as he strains to re-position the stranglehold he has held on the good people of his oil-rich nation -- you know, the ones who have no control over their own lives.

North Korea, on the other hand, apparently having come to like living in poverty under a multi-generational dictatorship, has tacitly approved turning its government into a modern monarchy.  "Dear Leader" Kim Jong Il has revealed his heir-apparent, a 28-ish, newly frocked 4-star General and vice chairman of the Central Military Commission: youngest son, Kim Jong Un the Unknown.  Daddy Kim's sister and her husband will serve as "regents" until the backsides of Baby Kim's ears dry out.  If it walks like a monarchy and quacks like a monarchy, I'd say that it's a fat royal duck.  Even feudal, maybe.

I told Pepper that he obviously had the wrong bloodline -- his military career could've been so much easier if his father could've just signed off on a pay grade quantum leap like Daddy Dear Leader did for Baby Unknown.

I can't say that I'm terribly comfortable with the Korean Nukes being under the control of a twenty-something egomaniac NorK.


You gotta wonder what Japan and China are thinking.  Especially Japan.

OSHA's Now Officially on Moogie's Hit List

The bleepin' beepin' buses have returned.  And, this time they have an all-new and even more annoying routine.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm a big fan of child safety.  Even big-child safety.  I put my girls on school buses for years, so I appreciate the need for school-bus safety procedures and the importance of not running over school children inadvertently.  (I'll admit that I watched apprehensively at times as the buses sped off or screeched to a halt, but onto those buses they went anyway!).  But this bus situation is getting to be just a little ridiculous.

On their morning run (which seems to begin at 0-dark-thirty minus 1), the buses vroom down the side street right past our bedroom windows, squeal to a stop at the stop sign, roar across the busy thoroughfare, and drop off the students safely past the schoolyard fence opening previously reserved for vehicles one block over.  There's really no big problem there, except for the squealing and vrooming parts.

Then, they circle the block and come roaring back down our sidestreet heading back toward the schoolyard where they park until field trips or the afternoon runs.  They park in the schoolyard.  Facing out, ready to go.

And, all this maneuvering requires lots and lots of beeping in reverse, courtesy of OSHA.

First, they usually have to reverse to make the turn onto the sidestreet because faculty and staff who previously parked in the schoolyard have been displaced and now battle each other over open spots on the sidestreets and wind up parking, illegally, too close to the intersections, causing the buses to have to do three- or four-point turns to get properly aimed to vroom down the street without wiping out a number of faculty or staff vehicles.  Beep!  Beep!  Beep!  Beep!  Vroom!  Squeal.  Vroom.

Then, once they have vroomed across the busy thoroughfare again, they have to do more three- or four- point reverses to back into the schoolyard.  This move produces endless interludes of beep-fests.

Sometimes one or two buses have to jimmy around to make room for another bus, so they just leave the freakin' machines in reverse -- beeping all the while -- until they know for sure whether they'll have to re-position.  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEPITY, BLEEPIN' BEEP!!!   Put it in neutral, for cryin' out loud!!!

This goes on for several hours in the morning because Sophie Wright is a charter "academy" that, as of this year, houses students in 5th through 12th grades. 

They arrive in shifts.  All morning.

Have I ever mentioned that Moogie is not a morning person?

The whole shebang starts over for the afternoon runs, minus one round of beeping because the students are already at the school.  But, there is this new factor -- Sophie Wright now has high school football!  And basketball!  And girls' volleyball!  And they all practice and have games (elsewhere) fairly late!

So, several nights a week we are treated to the enter-the-schoolyard-for-overnight-parking maneuvers at 8:00 or 9:00, sometimes 10:00 or later!

Have I ever mentioned that Pepper is not a night owl?

I'm trying.  I'm really trying to be a good neighbor, but sheesh!  I could use a good dose of patience -- and I want it right now!!!

Halftime Fashion Report

The First Lady of Cameroon and Michelle gal-pal it up at the UN gathering.

Someone cue Barnum and Bailey.


H/T to Michelle Malkin

A Brief Musical Interlude . . .

. . . before the Hog-trouncing of the Reddish Wet Heffalumps commences to be administered on COLLEGE GAMEDAY.

Fourteen seconds of Number 2 Grandson, on the road to Carnegie Hall.

#10 Hogs vs. #1 Bama -- The Student Body Poises For Attack!

This is such fun! Students started camping out on Tuesday in Fayetteville to get student tickets to tomorrow's splendid Arkansas Razorbacks v. Alabama Reddish Wet Heffalumps game!

Last night, Coach Petrino and several players bought 300 pizzas and distributed them to the students camped out on Stadium Drive!

Can you feel the excitement! Whoo Pig Sooiiieeeeeee! Some Heffalumps are gonna get washed out to sea on their own tide!

H/T to Elder Daughter

(P.S.  COLLEGE GAMEDAY still sucks for choosing Boise Bluegrass over the rolling hills of Fayetteville.  For a take on all 4 SEC games, check out Wally Hall.)

Quick! Someone Drop a House on Her!

No caption necessary!

Trackin' the Impending Fruit Basket Turnover

A cool Google gadget stolen from Mean Ol' Meany.  You can move the map around by "grabbing" it --

Who Dat Gauntlet Flinging

You remember this poster from the run-up to the Saints' remarkable and totally deserved win in Super Bowl XLIV?  When the NFL was getting all horsey about merchandising and the Who Dat Nation picked up the gauntlet?

Another gauntlet has been thrown, this time by some guys claiming to have an enforceable Trademark on the phrase as it relates to the Saints.  Our very clever local cartoonist responded to this ridiculous issue with this strip:

I might add, "... and Dem!"

I also might add after last night's squeaker against the Niners, "Whew Dat!"

National Employer Support of the Guard and Reserve Week

Sometimes the president's handlers in the White House staff get it right.

As proclaimed by the Commander in Chief, this is National Employer Support of the Guard and Reserve Week. 

Please thank those who employ those who serve (more and more often these days). 

Halftime News Break

Thought for the day (aside from Wooo Pig Sooooiiieeee!!! of course):

Hugo Chavez with a nuclear device and an apparent extreme dislike of The Big Apple.

I guess the Chavez - Obama courtship went sour.

Hugo, you rascally playah, you.

A Tree Grows in Little Rock, Part Two

Yay! The post posted!

I had to break down and buy the app because it's pretty freakin' stone age around here with no cable and no WiFi!

So, next let's see if I downloaded Picasa correctly.

Remote Homeownership

So, there's another wedding in Arkansas. I know, you'd think the entire state would be married by now, but not yet.

We got a rather terse call from younger daughter while en route. She had already hit the beer by the time we got here. Why, you might wonder?

It seems that the ancient tree in the backyard finally deposited a huge branch on the utility lines, which proceeded to make themselves at home, live, on the ground, along with a good-size chunk of eave.

We gave her some names and the power was back on by the time we got here.

We're still waiting on the cable guy nearly 24 hours later (and service was to be restored within 24 hours. I guess they're in the zone.)

So, I'm trying a new app for the iPhone. We'll see if it posts.

My Arkansas trips seem to have been fraught with unpleasantry lately. At least no one has died during this trip. Yet. Let's keep it that way.

Anyone need any firewood?

Thieving Little Leprechaun.

Sunlight was just right to do this.  There's a rainbow in my bedroom!

I looked all around the room, but I couldn't find my pot of gold.

Who knew that leprechauns were Democrats!

Political Politicians and Thirst

I was bored this morning and playing a game with myself that involved Google and Lying Politicians.  Sometimes the results of that game turn up a gem, and today was one of those days -- especially in light of all the mewling and naysaying going on in Delaware.  Behold:

Usually no?

Priorities, Priorities

Tiresome phrase, thy name is Obama:



I think my favorite is the reference to functional plumbing.  Do you think he and 'Chelle are trying to have another baby?

Stolen from Deadenders.

A Musical Interlude

Can't resist!  This is The Son's entry in a Little Rock radio station competition.  The youngster sounds pretty good, if I do say so myself!!

Another Charming Louisiana Politician Looks Justice in the Eye

This charmer is U.S. District Judge Thomas Porteous.  It's been nearly eight years since Porteous, a 1994 Clinton appointee, first came under investigation in the FBI's "Wrinkled Robe" probe.  There is ample evidence to warrant kicking his sorry corrupt butt off the bench, including damning testimony about kick-back schemes from his cronies who pleaded out, and proof that he made false statements in his own personal bankruptcy proceedings. 

Porteous has been on a "voluntary suspension" with pay (a tidy little sum of $170,000 per year!), and prohibited from hearing cases or hiring anyone, since September 10, 2008.  Yep -- he's been cooling his heels for more than 2 years now, doing little more than think about his defense and collect his checks.  The ultimate in redistributing wealth, one might conjecture.

Fortunately, the Fifth Circuit heeded a heads up that the Suspension was about to expire and issued an Order on September 8th extending its efficacy until the end of the year.  But just until the end of the year.

The House of Representatives issued Articles of Impeachment way back in March, accusing Porteous of High Crimes and Misdemeanors "in a pattern of conduct that is incompatible with the trust and confidence placed in him as a federal judge."  Today, a 12-member Senate Impeachment Trial Committee will begin a 5-day trial on the charges, ultimately sending a summary to the floor upon which the entire Senate will vote as jury, needing a 2/3 vote to convict.   There have been only 19 formal impeachment proceedings in the history of the United States, 14 of which were of federal judges.

What, you might ask, can the good judge possibly posit as a defense to such heinous allegations?

So far, it appears that his trial team will focus on the fact that most of the shenanigans cited in the Articles of Impeachment occurred while he sat on a state bench, prior to his elevation to federal court, and that he's never been officially charged with those crimes for which his buddies are currently serving time.

Doesn't that just make his benefactor, Slick Willie Clinton, (also the subject of Impeachment) look like an amateur at parsing the English language?

From the lightning-fast pace the case has assumed thus far, it's looking like the lame-duck full Senate won't hold its hearing until after the mid-terms.  They'd better get on the stick before the good judge gets in enough time to enter into his planned retirement at full salary.  I can imagine little that is less nauseating than the prospect of paying this guy $170 grand a year (plus COLAs) out of tax dollars for the rest of his worthless life.

And they'd better grow a set and dole out justice, unlike their predecessors did with former perjuring-John-in-Chief Clinton.  Failing to do so might set off a maelstrom that'll dwarf the Tea Party movement.  I envision literal torches, pitchforks, tar and feathers. 

I'd better go start plucking a few chickens, just in case.

Sunday Fluff

Okay -- let's lighten up a little bit.  I don't have much except a little mindless Sunday fluff, but sometimes that's a good thing.

You know how fond I am of re-living the moment, so here's a little reminder that Sir Favre came out of re-re-retirement only to be genteelly smacked down by the Saints last Thursday.

And this is Bouie's latest weapon in the war against foliage.  Not only does he eat it and "water" it, he compacts and squishes it beforehand, too.  See any difference in the far and near ends of the flowerbed?  Yep -- he leaves the far end pretty much alone (so far) and considers the near end as just another extension of his bed.  You'll note that he's also leaning on the landscape light, and the discolored carcass of the late Dusty Miller is in the background.  *sigh*  What's a body to do?

(P.S. -- don't look at the overgrown grass, please.)

I'll Let It Go For Awhile After This One . . .

I'll get to something more fun a little later, but I seem to have a 9/11 hangover -- can't seem to shake "that feeling."  I ran across this one, and I think it bears repeating as we try to get back into the rhythm of life:

Tuesday, October 13, 2009


New Orleans Gives the U.S.S. New York a Send-off Befitting Her Heritage

The master shipbuilders at Avondale, Louisiana, have crafted an emotional work of art and might: the U.S.S. New York.

In a labor of love, the artisans began construction in 2004 on the 684-foot amphibious transport dock ship. This morning -- on a fog-shrouded Mississippi River -- she began her maiden voyage to her namesake City for commissioning into the United States Navy. Thousands of southeast Louisianians lined the River to bid her "fair winds and following seas;" she was saluted with two separate 21-gun salutes, hundreds of fluttering American flags, and musical tributes.

Northrup-Grumman's Avondale shipyard has produced countless ships for our mighty military over the years, so what makes this particular transport vessel so remarkable?

She has already known adversity, this gray beauty -- during her construction, she weathered Hurricanes Katrina (and its aftermath), Ike, and Gustav. But she's also a survivor -- incorporated into her bow stem are about 7 1/2 tons of steel from the New York World Trade Center, felled during the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on our nation.

As an unofficial Honor Guard, near the starting line of her voyage a swarm of police and emergency vehicles flashed their lights in honor of the 343 firefighters and police officers who died in the World Trade Center. Through the steel in her bow, commemorating the thousands of innocents and heroes who unexpectedly lost their lives on that clear September morn, she's already blessed by scores of Guardian Angels. Even so, we add our blessing to theirs.

Bon voyage, New York; may you know fair winds and following seas indeed.

Remembrance and Reflection

September 11th.  9/11.  9 - 1 - 1.

The repercussions from that day are many and diverse, aside from the obvious holes in the ground and in our hearts. 

The wound -- the pandemic pain and suffering that we all shared with one another and the families of the fallen -- is still here even though it's scabbed over now.  I suspect, however, that it wouldn't take much to knock the scab off and start the blood flowing all over again.  I think the kerfuffles over Koran-burning and mosque-building the last couple of weeks are proof positive of that suspicion.

For the last 8 years, I've gotten pretty contemplative during the days leading up to this date, as have most Americans, I imagine.

My younger cousin posted on Facebook this morning that she had just dropped off her young children at school when the first plane hit.  She firmly believes her oldest is now a Cadet at West Point as a direct consequence of that day's events.

Pepper was on one of the first civilian flights cleared to take off on September 14th.  He was headed to a meeting originally scheduled to take place at the Pentagon, but re-located after al-Qaeda crashed a plane into it.  There had been friends in the Pentagon that September morning.  It was hard to watch him get on that plane.

We all recall where we were, what we were doing, how life changed after the towers fell.  My own life changed dramatically but, oddly, for the better after that day.

Having moved down to New Orleans full-time only a couple of months beforehand, I knew but a few souls in the whole city and those few were still just passing acquaintances.  My father was in Little Rock.  All the kids were out of the house, married or in college towns in Arkansas and Louisiana.  On the 11th, the girls badly wanted to ditch classes and run to mama's and daddy's arms for comfort as they did when they were little, but we encouraged them to stick it out where they were.  That sounds like "tough love" but, truth be told, we were scared to put them on the highways, not knowing what was next and conjuring up Armageddon.  It was a very, very lonely time.

The week following the attacks, I saw a newspaper article about a service designed to support local military families that had been affected.  I called the telephone number in the article, and when the voice at the other end of the line asked how she could help me, I replied that I wasn't seeking help, I wanted to volunteer with the program.  She handed the phone to a man who has since become a close friend, and that conversation led me to eventual membership in the Mayor's Military Advisory Committee, The Military Officers' Wives' Club, and ESGR (Employer Support of the Guard and Reserve).  September 11th molded my life in New Orleans and blessed me with new friends and volunteer opportunities.

I'm not sure why, but I never really appreciated that blessing until this year: out of disaster came a fresh start; out of reflection came recognition.

Would that it could be that way for the world. 

Musings on Pop Culture and Friendship

Moogie recently watched age 55 disappear in the rear-view mirror.  It was a little-heralded birthday, but pleasant nonetheless, especially so because Pepper took me out to dinner -- even made the reservation all by himself! -- and I didn't have to clean up the kitchen.  I love to cook; don't like to clean up the kitchen.

I'm not sure why, but one of my very favorite things in the world is goofy cocktail napkins.  My bestest buddy Diane, who lives most of the time in Hong Kong now, called on my birthday and I opened my gift from her while we were chatting and sharing a long-distance cup of coffee (isn't that skype thingy amazing?!) 

Are you ready for this?

She knows me waaaay too well!

Gettin' Crunk with Favre on the Ground!

I've decided that we'll eat healthy during tonight's Saints - Vikings game: wings, turkey tacos, and cheese dip!

Well, that's gotta be healthy in some parts of the world.  Surely!

I'm already getting antsy about the game, but I'm decked out in the Who D@tting black and gold!  It's gonna be a long, tense season.


Geaux Saints!


(t-shirt by FleurtyGirl)

There Are Dogs, and Then There Are Dogs

I've had kind of a busy week, what with Ball planning and the NFL schedule starting up tomorrow right here in NOLA.  The parade and concerts should make for a good time, but I imagine I'll pass them up so I won't miss seeing the unfurling of the XLIV Championship banner in the Dome on tv.  Yep, on tv.  No tickets.  Oh well.  I helped my Saints win mostly from home last year -- the mojo should still be good.  Who D@!!!!

So, since the Young President set me off so badly with his Labor Day campaign speech, I haven't engaged my brain much the past few days, except to notice that Bouie is escalating his war against the landscaping.  Forthwith is the latest casualty of his "watering" strategy:

Another Dusty Miller bites the dust.

Speaking of dogs, the Young President seems to have had his feelings hurt a little bit lately.  He told the union folk that mean people "treat him like a dog" (which, by the way, ain't all that bad at Moogie's Mansion).  Bobby Gibbs backed him up when he pointed out, "If you look at some of what is said about the president and match them up against the facts, on occasion dogs get better representation."

Well, my take on the matter is: if the flea collar fits . . . .

What Labor Day Means to Moogie

As I prepare to bake an apple-blueberry pie to take to a potluck this afternoon, my thoughts drift to the true meaning of today's revered holiday observation.

Labor Day -- the day we recognize and acknowledge all those hours spent in a hospital gown that exposes our backside to the world, hee-hee-heeing and blowing, then straining to push a human being out of our bodies and into this world.  (Often described by male physicians as "experiencing some discomfort.")

What's that you say?  Union labor?!?!

Oh.

In that case, contact your senator and congressperson today -- and tomorrow -- and explain just exactly why the Employee Free Choice Act is no more than a communist mechanism to screw the rank-and-file employee and the employer simultaneously, and a device to take contractual bargaining out of the hands of the real parties in interest and hand it over to not-totally-disinterested third parties, among other unpleasant things.

In the meantime, go have a picnic -- and call your mother.

What's Up Next for the Young President?

Breaking News!

As pundit after pundit speculates that incumbent Congressional Democrats are in the tanker and headed for minority status, I have learned that our Young President is a little concerned about his continued tenure in the White House and is therefor gearing up for his next career track.  He is rumored to be preparing to begin the most real, meaningful, and solid job he has ever held.

He's joining the Men in Black.

Make no mistake about it, with his expertise in the field of immigration, we can all sleep well at night knowing that he'll be on the job, keeping us all safe from alien high jinks.

Oh.  No.  Wait a minute . . . .

What's a Few More Wolves at the Door Among Friends?

Yep -- that's pretty much how he sounded yesterday.

Game day!!!! Finally.

Man, it's been a looooooong summer!



Let's call those Hogs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

College Gameday Eve!

And we hop on the road to the BCS tomorrow!



WOOOO PIG SOOOOOIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Bring it!  Bustin' out the red and white!

H/T to The Slophouse

"Cash For Clunkers," Chapter Two

Is anyone really surprised? 

Reports published at the end of August verify that the "Cash for Clunkers" program did more harm than good.  On Monday, Motley Fool commented on the diminished supply, increased demand, and skyrocketing prices in the used car market (emphasis mine):

Last year's $3 billion program to get folks to trade in old cars on new ones turned out to be popular -- and the "clunkers" provision of the program required the destruction of the whopping 690,000 cars that got traded in, even if they were fairly new and nice. AutoNation (NYSE: AN) alone sent 10,000 to the scrapyard.

Not only is the supply of used cars all fouled up, the program also caused a whopping impact on today's market for new cars.  Speedtv reports:

The distortion in U.S. auto sales caused by last year’s Cash for Clunkers program has resulted in some disappointing predictions for this year’s August sales and the industry’s recovery rate.

While I didn't blog specifically about the Cash for Clunkers program, I did poke a little fun at it last year, referring to the need for a "Cash for Crustaceans" program after buying a piece of unexpectedly expensive fish.  But, even though I never mounted the anti-Cash-for-Clunkers soapbox, I can distinctly recall thinking what a bone-headed idea it was to destroy a bunch of perfectly serviceable automobiles.  I still think it was a bone-headed idea that will continue to cause unpleasant after-effects.

So, just call me Madame Moogie, the Not-so-Mysterious Psychic, Predictor of the Obvious.

Maybe blog-buddy Buck should reconsider that Caddy -- the industry could use his support!

Se Habla Ingles?

Some things yap speak for themselves.

(With apologies to Pippi Lou Puparoo).

Where's Ty Pennington When You Really Need Him?!?!

Today's adventure in home ownership.  Two of the three units are nonfunctional.  One easy fix (new fan motor -- still under warranty!); one unknown fix on the 15 year-old unit.

*heavy sigh*

And, check out the mighty fine job the Sewerage & Water Board did of restoring the yard when they replaced the faulty meters yesterday.

But, the chocolate plants and impatiens are propagating like wildfire!  So, there is that beautiful side of being owned by a homestead.

And, at least, it's not beastly hot.

Just call me Moogie Pollyanna.

PC Gone Wild!

It seems that Rick Sanchez at CNN let his tongue get ahead of his brain on Monday night and referred to the occupant of the Oval Office as "the cotton picking president."  Then he tried to weasel out of his verbal faux pas by explaining that the phrase was just a term he used "growing up in the south."  *smirk*



So.  Profanity would have been better?  Maybe, "Get a rope?"  No, I suppose not.

Political Correctness has shaken this nation back and forth by the throat until we are simply ridiculous. 

Sheesh.

Leak Begone!

Ahhhh, the delivery of city services is a thing of wonder to behold!  Yep, you guessed it -- the Sewerage and Water Board finally showed up today to fix the leak at the water meter.

You remember that leak -- I first introduced you to it on June 11 when we got a $436 water bill.  Then I updated the scenario on July 9th when the enormous bill was (sorta) corrected, but no repairs had yet been effected.  I next brought you up to date on August 10th to let you know that the gas and cable folks had painted stuff on the street 15 days earlier, telling me that the S&WB should be there within 10 days.

And today is September 1st.  The entire city has been paying for that leak since I first reported it to the S&WB in, oh, about March. 

I sent Pepper an email this morning to let him know that work was happening and he replied, "I saw the truck rolling around the corner Monday, and was afraid he had missed the spot – but apparently supervisors don’t have to get out and look at things."  Heh.

A few hours later, when the deed had been done, I sent him another email:  "This has been a hoot. They changed out the bad meters, but it took 2 enormous trucks, a backhoe, and 5 guys to do it. Then they washed off at the fire hydrant they had opened an hour or 2 earlier."

I have no idea why they needed a backhoe on site, but they apparently opened the fire hydrant so they could bathe later.

Of the 5 guys, 2 actually worked on replacing the meters, one had to keep the big pump truck in place by leaning on it, one carried around an ice chest, and the last guy watched the others.  And they all talked REALLY. LOUD.  A lot.

You'll have to excuse me.  I need to go run all the air out of the pipes.  Glad I wasn't in the shower when they cut the water off!

And, I wonder how often they open fire hydrants and let them run for hours?  Egad.