Saturday, April 12, 2014

Nugget August 1999-12 April 2014

My silly dog.

The one that not only outsmarted Grandma, but then trained her.

My son's best friend.

And mine.  The one who was left behind with me.

The one who was there everyday after chemo.  Who laid at my feet as I went through that chemical hell twice a week.

Who followed me from room to room and would look at me as if to say "Are to going to be in here for a while?  If so, I'll be laying in that corner over there."  And I would feel guilty if I had to get up to go get something and accidentally wake him up.

When we would build a fire, he would come and lay between you and the fire, soaking up all the heat.

And on those mornings when the yard was wet from dew or rain.  He'd step through the grass like a ballerina.  He hated being wet.  I had stopped giving him baths long ago because of the look he would give me though soaked fur of:   "How can you do this to me?"  The ladies at Petco got to endure that stare, I wimped out after about the third time.  

30 MPH was the max I could drive with the window down, anything above that and the wind in his face got to be too much.  I'd hit 35 and he'd pull his head in and give me a look that said "Hey, slow down.  I'm enjoying myself here."   I'd explain to him that doing on 30 the interstate would get us both killed, then he'd turn around a few times, settle in and sleep until we got to about the Keystone exit on 65.  At that point, he'd wake up and get hyper-excited.  Whether because the trip was over, he had to pee, or he knew that he was about to snooker Grandma out of all the dog treats and food she had, I never knew.

He was my best friend and loyal companion.  He deserved a better owner then I. And leaving him on that table today was the hardest thing I ever did.  I'm glad that Robert was also there and holding him as he went.

He never was on the right side of the door.   Or maybe it was me that was on the wrong side.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

A Less Modest Proposal

How about this:

Make Tax Day, 15 April, also Election Day.

It's also a national holiday.

Everything (except police, fire stations and hospitals, those folks will have to rotate) is closed by law.  Everything.

Everyone goes to the polls in their county/township.

You go in and there's a long table with representatives from each taxing body there. 

First you pay your Local Taxes, like Property, School District*, and any other local taxes.
Next station is to pay your State Income taxes. (if any).
Finally, you pay your Federal Income Tax.  (This will have to be flat.)
You have to write a check (or money order, or credit card) for each one.
The balance.
In full.
There will be no withholding from paychecks.  No escrowing property taxes with your mortgage payments.
No slight of hand bullshit.

Every last dime.  Right then.  Right now.

Once you've paid, then you are handed your ballot to go in and vote.

Now each level of .gov knows exactly what it has to spend for the upcoming fiscal year and cannot spend more then what it has taken in.  They have from 15 April to 1 October to hash out what gets paid and what doesn't.

No borrowing, no bonds, no accounting tricks.   You have X dollars.  You can only spend X dollars.

Elected Reps:  Have at it.  And you have 4.5 months to figure it out. 

Also, no borrowing, no projections.  No "outyears".   You want a new school/road/Navy Destroyer?   It all gets paid for upfront.  In full.  That will sure control for "Cost Overruns", if the GC or one of the subcontractors has to eat the cost overrun, you know damn well, it'll get done right the first time.

I bet having a bunch of highly pissed off people going into the polls, would solve quite a few of this country's (along with several states and locales) problems.   And keep them solved.

"But Dave", you say, "What about people who don't or won't go to the polls# on Tax/Election Day?'

Failure to show up and pay on Tax/Election Day and your taxes automatically double, and a warrant is issued for your arrest.

# - You don't have to vote, but you do have to pay all your taxes.

*- Did I mention vouchers?  Good for any school you want to send your kid: public, private, parochial, or moonbat.  You, as parents, choose.  Liberals are Pro-choice, right?  

Thursday, December 26, 2013

My Disappearin' Act

Why did I stop blogging ?

Same reason I stopped posting on Book of Faces and other places I frequented.

The Divorce.  

Since it was a very bitter fight, I didn't want anything I posted to show up in court.   I didn't want to accidentally post something that would come back to bite me.  You never know what innocuous little thing would get dragged through the mud and suddenly I'm standing in front of the judge saying "That's not what I meant !!!"

But just to wrap things up for those that don't know, here's the outcome of the divorce.

1.  My son lives with me 9.5 days and her 4.5 days every two week period.  And boy, is she pissed about that.  
2.  She has to pay me maintenance every month.
3.  I get the house.

All in all, I came out pretty good.  She still refuses to cooperate,, but I simply go to court file a motion and ask the judge.  I do it Pro-Se.  She is still using her attorney. We'll see how long that lasts.  She either learn to cooperate or go broke being obstinate.

But that's where I've been, I promise to post more from now on.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Thank you.

I want to put this here for two reasons.  1) to restart this blog, and 2) well....

This year I have received the greatest gift of all.  If you are reading this, then I have received your friendship.

If someone would have told me what I would go through these past few years, I wouldn't have believed it.

Kidney failure, Chemo, a diagnosis of terminal cancer, my wife leaving because she didn't want to be with someone who was dying, more Chemo, and then a year and half long divorce fight.  But in the end, I have finished Chemo, my health is no longer deteriorating and my son lives with me.

And through all that you have been here with me.

My internet friends, my school friends, my Army buds and those here where I live.

I have been humbled.

The kindness and friendship you have not only shown to me, but also to my son Robert, has been beyond anything anyone could ask. I am truly grateful for everything you have done for and with us.  You have stood by us, checked in on us, invited us to your homes, fed us, and entertained us.  You have given of yourself, your time and your talents.  You've helped us even when I didn't ask, and when I did ask, I was overwhelmed not only by your generosity, but also your caring and concern. I am truly grateful and hope that we are worthy of your friendship. 

I do pledge and promise that I can work to maintain from you that most cherished title;  "Friend".  Even though I know I often fall far short, I'm honored and I thank you.   

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Time for my annual Memorial Day Rant

Several years ago, we were coming back from the American Legion Hall on Memorial Day. I was in American Legion uniform having served in the firing detail at the local cemetery. We had gone into the local Stop&Rob for one thing or another (which put me in foul mood to begin with) and at the check-out, Little Miss TeenAmerica wannabe at the register wished me a "Happy Memorial Day".

And I unloaded on her, I didn't yell or raise my voice but said through tightly clenched teeth:

"There is one NOT g-ddamned thing "Happy" about Memorial Day. Everyone in this country that isn't in uniform honoring our war dead had damn well be better dressed in black mourning clothes. I just got back from the cemetery where we paid our respects and begged G-d to care for those 327 mostly 18-20 year old kids who died in mud filled trenches, freezing European forests, crappy little dots of islands, hot shitty jungles or some G-d forsaken desert. They died horrible, agonizing deaths so you could go to the mall and shop without having worry about whether you were in the whites or blacks section, to show your papieren bitte, or ask in Japanese to buy worthless, rancid, Russian bread and then worry about being shot as a spy on your way home. Those people gave you their everything for what you have today. Look around and ask if you want for anything, because I know those poor bastards would feel cheated if you did.

If you saw Saving Private Ryan, then you probably missed the single most important lesson of that entire movie.

Remember that cemetery ? There are about 2 dozen in Europe, there's another big one on Oahu in Hawaii. There are quite few here in the US from the Revoluntionary War to the present, and every American's knees should become weak and tears should flow when they visit those places on Memorial Day.

Because there's no way any of us have "Earned This"."

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


There is something about coming home.  To the home you grew up in.  It's true you can never go back.  It's just not quite the same as when you were younger.  But still it's home.  It holds so many memories, good and bad of growing up.

Yet, it's comfortable and safe and warm.  It's an old sweater that has seen better days, but it feels good.

That's what it is, safety and comfort.  A place of refuge from the rest of the world, and going home to the place you grew up even moreso.

And soon, family and friends will gather for a day of Food, Fun, and Thanks.  We will laugh, argue, annoy, perhaps cry, and laugh more.  In the end, it will be all good.

Then it will be over.  Too soon.. And we will disperse and go back to our own homes.  The places we live, the places we call home. 

But still there is but one Home.

And it's good to be here.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Deer Season 2012 - Final Report

Well another Deer Camp goes into the books, and as usually happens the new guy goes home with the Trophy.   Yes, since 1989 our Deer Camp has awarded "The Big Buck Award".  There are certain criteria that have to be met to win however.  Your deer must be taken between opening time of Firearm Season on Friday morning to 12 Noon on Sunday.  The deer must be the first one you take.  In other words, if you take a doe first, then you are out of the running for the trophy.  The deer must be back in camp by noon Sunday. You pull in at 12:01 with the buck of a lifetime, and you lose. Size is determined first by points then by Boone and Crockett scoring, yes, we'll break out a tape measure if need be. Decision of the Camp Director is final and shall not be questioned.  the trophy is officially awarded at 12:01 on Sunday afternoon.   The winner must display the trophy either in their home or office for the next year and bring it back to deer camp the following year.  You also must pay for getting your own engraving done. If you win that year and there is no more room for names, then you must create/expand the award. 

The magic of the interwebz and Facebook has also netted us at least two and maybe three new people for next year.  John has a friend from Practical Rifle, and there's a mutual friend from the Aurora Sportsmen's Club that has called me and wants to join us next year.   Plus Pierre Khoury has stated he'll be back next year, and I truly look forward to that.  And if there's anyone reading that would like to join us.  Let me, your humble host and Camp Director, know and we'll get you what you need to hunt down here, and put you on some deer. 

So this afternoon John and Roger will pick up their deer from the processor, Pat, had to leave early this morning, so he already has one of his in nice white packages from the processor, but he's bringing the other home to butcher himself.  I prefer to bring home the white packages, as opposed to doing all that work.  

I'm glad that I had this time with several great friends.  I'm pretty sure that they've had as much fun this year as I've had.   And I'm really looking forward and planning for next year's camp.