Fran's Ramblings

Video stuffs

Oddly, I wasn't as stiff and sore today as I thought I'd be.  Yay!

But it was kind of an off-kilter day, hectic running around, a fairly good sized portion of stress and all of that fueled by weird-ass dreams.  I've been having a lot of those lately, and so has Lillian.  I gather that we're not alone in this.  But it's still funky and disconcerting.

So instead of delving into anything of consequence, I'm giving you a couple videos instead.

Because this is the sort of day I've had:

 

Haven't we all felt that way?

And at times I felt rather like this today:

 

Okay, those two were safe for work.  This last one isn't, and it's longer, and it takes a bit to get to the point, but it goes back to an earlier post.  You'll figure out which one, I'm positive!

 

And on that note, have a great first day of February!

Ibuprofen, please!

We had a blast today!

For Christmas/Yule, Lillian and I gave each other a basic handgun class.  We're talking BASIC, like "this is the part you hold" and "these are bullets" and "don't be stupid".  It was great!

There were 18 of us in the class, with two instructors, and it lasted from 8:30 this morning until 5:00 this afternoon ("this" being Sunday, for those of you reading this on Monday).  The first part of the class was all intro, quite literally "this is the trigger" and "this is a revolver" and "this isn't a revolver".  But it was also some physics about how things do work, how to stand, how to hold the gun, how to sight, truly basic but really informative stuff. 

Some folks brought their own guns, but most of us didn't.  The second part of the class, the after lunch part, was mostly shooting.  It was completely hands-on, and we each shot seven times, five rounds each time.  We got to try out different types of guns and if there was something we wanted to try out that wasn't on the table, the guys would get it for us.

The class was mostly women.  There were two men there as support, one for his wife and another who brought a young man (maybe 15?) in -- with the kid's mother's permission, signed and notarized -- but the rest of us were there to learn.  Several of us had never fired a handgun before. 

Oh, and let me tell you, that room where we did the shooting?  Freezing!  It was incredibly cold!  They had chairs for those of us who weren't at the line, but the chairs were metal and it was warmer to stand on the cold concrete than sit in those icy chairs.  But when we were on the line, I don't think any of us noticed the cold.

Although Lillian did laugh at me at one point, when I had my nose trapped between my ear protectors during one of the quieter moments.  When she asked what i was doing, I mumbled, "Warming up my nose" and, well, yeah, laughter.  But my nose was pleased!

Lillian was proficient with a rifle in the Army, so this exercise with handguns was a bit new for her, although you wouldn't know it.  After her first round, it was obvious she'd had experience and the guy monitoring her side of the firing line maintained she was cheating because it was obvious she wasn't a novice.  We all chuckled.

She made a point of not standing next to me when we were shooting, so that I'd be focusing on what I needed to do, not paying attention to her, which was wise.  But what was totally sweet was that her brother, Curtis (who took the class with us), made a definite point of standing next to me so he could help me out if necessary, and at one point it was, so I was tickled.

I shot a semi-auto .22, twice because I liked it, a .38 revolver which I sucked with, a 9 mm Big Honkin' Thing that I couldn't even load so Curtis had to help me, a 9 mm Glock 19 which was fine once I got over being sprayed with the casings from the folks to my left, a Glock 17 which was much easier to deal with, and. . .that's 6, right?  So there was one more, but for the life of me I can't remember what.  I think it was another 9 mm, because at one point we had to shoot using our non-dominant trigger finger, so that's what I was concentrating on, not the weapon itself.

Oh, and that was fun!  I was pretty consistant all the way around, right or left trigger finger didn't matter.  I sucked with the revolver, but I think it was just too big for me.  However, Curtis really didn't do well shooting with his off hand, while Lillian did her best using her left hand.  It was interesting.

A couple of ladies needed special attention because they just didn't get it, one lady took her own sweet time and did excellently, one lady kept getting better and tighter groupings so that we were all proud of her, and one lady simply couldn't shoot after the second round.  She had had enough.

Oh, but she turned into quite the trooper!  She had started off with two of the bigger guns, and it made sense that they intimidated her.  Lillian and I told her the .22 was easier, quieter, no recoil, and so did some other folks.  At the last round, she stepped up again and gave it a try, and she did really well.

Then one of the instructors talked to her and, in addition to the first guns being just too much, she was feeling a bit claustrophobic about all the people.  So he kept her back after the rest of us finished and let her do her make-up rounds by herself with the .22.  She came back BEAMING!  She rocked it!  We were so tickled and proud of her.  Even if she never picks up a gun again, she faced her fear down. 

The class ended with us being taught how to clean the guns and with a question-and-answer session. 

The day ended with the three of us meeting up with Curtis' wife and the baby (TOOOOOOO CUTE!) for dinner, then Lillian and I went grocery shopping and came home.  It was a most excellent day.

But yeah, I'm gonna need ibuprofen.  My right shoulder is twitchy from having been held in a way it's not used to, my right hand is achy from holding all that weaponry and putting up with the kicks, and I suspect I'm gonna notice my left bicep tomorrow. 

Aches notwithstanding, it was a huge blast, and we're planning on keeping up practicing.  This particular gun club has a Ladies Night when we can shoot for just the cost of renting the guns and the price of ammunition.  I suspect we'll be spending some quality time up there. 

It was a great present, I must say! 

"But it's just one. . ."

On Monday, one of the top mystery bookstores on the West Coast, and in fact just plain one of the top mystery bookstores around is going to close.  They can't make ends meet.  And here in Seattle, one of the indie used book stores in Queen Anne is going to close in the middle of next month.  They're in the same boat.

What frustrates me is the ongoing lamentation about the loss of indies by people who then go buy their books at CostCo and on Amazon.

And I'm framing this in the term of books because that's what I know, but every time I write "book store" you can substitute any small, indie, mom-and-pop shop, be it hardware or restaurant or clothing or whatever.  It's all the same.

I hear "But it's just one book (or shirt or hammer or meal).  That's not much."

No, it's not.  But it's not just that one book.  It's hundreds of people saying, "But it's just one. . ." and that's where the damage is done.  If you and you and you decide to order your book from Amazon or eat at Chilis instead of buying from an indie or mom-and-pop restaurant, then it adds up, and it adds up quickly.

The follow up statement is always "But times are tough right now!" and to that all I can say is you're preachin' to the choir, sister.  Believe me, I know.  I'm right there. And it is easier and cheaper to buy from megacorporations who don't care about anything but the bottom line, so they can buy in quantities I can't even fathom.

Quality costs more, and with smaller places owned by people in your community, the price does go up but so does the service, the care, the individual attention.  And the money you're spending stays in the community instead of being sent to shareholders in other parts of the country.  Or the world. 

The corner store is going the way of the dodo, and it doesn't have to be that way.  But it takes time and commitment and thought and action to make that change.

Do you remember the look on Sylvester Stallone's face in Demolition Man when he realized all restaurants are now Taco Bell?

Welcome to my world.

 

Sorry, my dears

Yesterday I was out with a migraine, and while I went to work today, I came home early.  The lights there were bringing things back.  And now I alternate between being far too cold or overwhelmingly hot -- and not in a good way. 

I may be coming down with something.  Which I refuse to do, but there you have it.

So here I am, not able to think of anything in particular to tell you, except to say this to my New Mexico friends and family.

Tea Party backed representative Nora Espinoza has introduced a bill to support DOMA in New Mexico.  New Mexico is one of the two remaining States that doesn't have one in place, and that, honestly, has been one of the deciding factors that has kept Lillian and me talking about moving back. 

My New Mexico peeps, now is the time to stand and fight.  Call your representatives and tell them to walk away from this proposed legislation.  Push for that historic New Mexican individuality.  Push for equality.  Do what's right and fair.

Please.

More memories

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Icons from my past

Jack LaLanne just died.  Intellecutally I knew it would happen, he was 96 after all.  But somehow a part of me figured he'd last forever, y'know?  He was Jack LaLanne!

 

And with that, I got to thinking about iconic people from my past. We all have them, and this is just a smattering, but they all contributed to who I am.

 

Like Captain Kangaroo.  I watched him every day.  Oddly enough, the only things I remember now are some of the segments with Mr. Green Jeans, but I do know I watched faithfully.

And I didn't much care for Lawrence Welk, but my grandmother did, and despite the accordion music, I did enjoy the bubbles. 

 

I have to admit I enjoyed Ed Sullivan a whole lot more.

 

I thought he was boxy and wooden, but there was something charismatic there.  And he wasn't afraid to be a little edgy, which I didn't quite understand at the time, but in retrospect I truly admire. And I have to admit, he did have an impact on my musical tastes.

But then, my musical upbringing also consisted of Mitch Miller.

 

I know I wasn't the only one who sang along!

And I sang along with Patti Page. 

 

Still do, come to that, but only when no one else is around, so you're safe.

 
But I think my favorite songstess was Doris Day. 

 

Oh sure, you know her as America's Sweetheart of the screen, large and small, but I first learned about her on vinyl, and since her name and my mom's were the same, she'll always have a place in my heart.

So walk in the stars, Jack.  You inspired millions of us, and you will be missed.

 

 

 

Political meme

There's a meme running around, has been for a few years.  It's about Congressional reform, and I'm sure you've seen it, even if it's just in passing as you've deleted it from your inbox, like I have countless times before.

But I've been watching what's going on in Congress over the last few years, and I'm not entirely sure it's completely wrong.

1. Term Limits. 12 years only, one of the possible options below.. A. Two Six-year Senate terms B. Six Two-year House terms C. One Six-year Senate term and three Two-Year House terms. I like this one.  I think the business of Congress should be governing, not constantly campaigning.  They are guardians of the public's trust, and they should act like trustees, not leeches.

2. No Tenure/No Pension. A Congressman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they are out of office.  It's a job, but it shouldn't be the last job anyone has.  And it should be done to the best of anyone's ability, but you shouldn't continue to be paid for it once you stop. 

3. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security. All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people.  We all agree Social Security needs reform, but let's face it, we need Social Security.  Our seniors need it.  But I'd love to see legislation that says that folks who have a net income of over a million buck can't draw Social Security.  That's an argument for another time, though.

4. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do. 

5. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.  If they get to vote themselves a raise, I want to vote myself a raise that the taxpayers will fund too.

6. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.  And when they do, they'll discover that there's a lot to be said for not being dinged about pre-existing conditions, no ceilings on amounts, coverage for kids, letting your kids stay on your policy until they're 26, lots of the same things we have now, and they'll appreciate them more.

7.  Congress gives up their free travel.  They will travel on regular flights -- First Class is acceptable, but they have to go through the same screening procedures that ordinary Americans have to experience.

8. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.  New York's Hub Theatre's artistic director, Helen Parfumi told Marc Acito, "I know it's free speech, but here's the guideline for politicians: if what they say could get the rest of us arrested in an airport, they shouldn't say it."

And what amuses me is the fact that this is the sort of thing that the Tea Party should be getting behind.  The only way this can happen is on a State-by-State basis.  Term limits can only be voted on on a State level, because you know darned good and well that Congress isn't going to agree to it! 

 So there you have it.  It's not complete, I'm sure, but it's a thought.  Right?  Wrong?  I have no idea, but what I do know is that something in Congress needs to change.

Circle coming around

As we all know, I have a long-standing relationship with insomnia.  It's like a relative who moves in and won't leave.  It loves me.  I've had dogs that have been less devoted than my insomnia.

But once in a while, it goes away.  Never for long, but it does.  And when it vacations, I enjoy getting some sleep.

It's gone to Maui, or Algiers, or down the Limpopo River.  I have no idea. But it's leaving me alone, and I'm pleased.  The wheel has turned the other way, the circle's spun around, and I can sleep.

So I'm off to bed and I'm gonna get some sleep.  Yay!  I am, however, leaving you this blast from the past.  Enjoy!

 

A rose by any other name

I have what my mom always told me is the "Tenzler nose". It's not the shape, which is eminently forgettable.  Apparently there are members of my family who are incapable of smelling some things.  That's certainly me.

It's a little odd, not being able to smell stuff, but there ya have it, I can't.  And I know I can't because there are things that other folks can and do smell that slip right past me.  I'm the last person you want checking that carton of milk to see if it's any good.  I have no idea.  Pour some.  If it comes out in clumps, probably not.

That's why I'm the one who gets to clean out the fridge.  It's not that I can't smell everything that's gone wrong, I can smell a lot of yucky stuff.  Just not bad milk.

And people routinely ask me if it affects my sense of taste, since smell and taste are linked.  My response is, "How would I know?" since for me this is normal.  I mean, I'd be much healthier if my sense of smell/taste was so cattywampus that I got the tastes of, say, broccoli and chocolate mixed up, but no, broccoli still tastes like a vegetable and chocolate is still a serious addiction.

But there are some things I can smell.  Oh my yes. 

For example, I can smell skunk, and it's not a happy thing.  I do have the ability to discern between yucky and lovely.  Hate skunk, love roses.  And a rose by any other name does not smell like skunk spray.  Or burning rubber.  Or cow poop.

Oh, there are some smells I just love.  Rain over the desert.  Fresh pine tree at Christmas.  In a weird way, puppy breath.  It's not good, technically, but it's still kind of the smell of unconditional love.

And food.  Some food.  Fresh baked bread can make me drool.  It's embarrassing.  Grilled meat can lead me astray.  And both Lillian and I have to leave the house when Ryan makes taquitos.  Hot, fried corn tortilla and spicy meat?  Oh my goodness. . .

But I noticed today that I can't smell the rain up here, and I miss that.  I also can't smell the decaying leaf mush, but I'm not sorry about that. 

So anyway, I've been thinking about smells.  What smells do you like best? 

 

Dreamtime

I don't remember much about my dream from this morning, except that Lillian and I were on a beach.  She was sitting on a chaise lounge in the shade, reading a book, and I was sitting at a desk in the shade, doing something on a laptop. 

It was laid-back and casual, but not our house. At least that's my fleeting impression.

And then I realized that Dante and Ceilidh were gone, that their pen had been filled with boxes, that their water bowl was empty, and that I needed to go get them before they got into trouble.  That was all one split-second thought.

Dante was downstairs (?) and he was playing with/fussing with a box in the water, and I knew it must be something weird because he hates getting his feet wet.  It was a big body of water, with boats.

So I went down to get him, I'd get Ceilidh later, she was farther away, but I didn't have anyplace to put him out of the sun since his pen was filled up.  So I woke up with my fingers in his fur, bringing him upstairs.

I really miss him.

I have no idea what it means, so instead I'm going to leave you with this video of a balloon manta ray thingie that's pretty cool.  The music is perfect, and I love the people driving past and in the offices that are simply oblivious to it.  Isn't that true of a lot of the magic in the world?