Category: random

Working until midnight and crashing in one of the production studios to sleep, I was barely asleep before it was time to get up to be on-air by 6 a.m. My workday ended at 12:15 p.m. but the wife had me run a chore for her; wash the car.

Simple little task.

Don’t bet on it! That turned into a real fiasco.

The wash I normally use used to allow customers to buy gas and a car wash at the pump. They stopped that practice and I ended up going to the bank to get cash.

At the first bank the ATM was out of money. I’ve never heard of such a thing!

It’s a money-operation and there’s no cash in the machine! Give me a friggin’ break.

So it’s off to the next closest bank.

The route is right through the stupidest drivers in the world. People with their left blinker lights on, moving right and cutting me off. Stuff like that.

But I got the money, I got the car washed and I got home in time. It is time for bed, I’m thinking.

NOT!

My bed has been pulled apart and the sheets are being washed. Bless my son’s God-mother, but I wish she would have had better timing.

The sheets are tumbling dry now and soon I’ll lay down. Sleep which seemed so far away is now so close.

Tomorrow morning when I roll out of bed at 3:30, I’ll probably not even remember all this.

It’ll be later in the morning that I think about how my day got twisted by a car wash request and an ATM and I’ll laugh at it.

My appointment at the VAMC went well. That is to say I didn’t have to stand around or sit around all that long to see my doctor. Nor did I get a ‘script change as I thought I was going to get, so no long wait at the pharmacy either.

Instead, I had to try and explain to my MD why I refuse to take commercial flights since September 2001. He thought it was out of some sort of phobia or something.

Not at all!

It took me nearly all of an hour to get him to understand that the decision to not fly in a purposeful choice. I based this choice on the actions of the Department of Homeland Security and the Transportation Safety Administration, as I have researched and learned of those two agencies screw ups over the years.

First, neither one target the correct people when it comes to searches. Grandma isn’t the threat and neither is the big busted blonde.

The profile is a younger male of dark complexion, well groomed and intelligent. I’m the whitest guy I know and I had to undergo a physical search.

Next are the things they call weapons or potential weapons. In my book my ball-point pen is more of a threat than the unbagged three-once bottle of shampoo.

They’ll take the shampoo and leave the pen. And have you ever seen how a woman’s high heel can pierce the skin?

Now they have the express system, where a person can undergo a background check and if they pass, they can jus’ by-pass the security lines. What a bunch of crap!

The background check is done by the FBI.

This is the same agency that allowed a woman to work for them in a classified position for nearly five years even though she a had fake marriage license and fake documentation to be in the U.S.  Boy, do I trust them to do the background check properly…not!

Yeah, I can go through the security check points and get on a passenger jet. It’s not a phobic reaction to the possibility of dying.

Instead I jus’ don’t want to go through a stupid procedure that only “creates” a “feeling” of public safety. This is MY choice and I don’t need any meds to help me with it.

My doctor still doesn’t fully understand what I am saying about all this. Instead, I ended up walking away — thinking of myself as obsessed with my need to be correct.

This has been a rough day.

The telephone kept ring and people kept knocking at the front door. Simply put, it was too busy around the house to sleep.

It started at 8:30 a.m. and the last call came in at 4 p.m. The last visitor at the front door was somewhere around 2 o’clock.

Thank goodness, but still too late to nap.

All I wanted was to lie down and sleep for a little longer; too take a nap before I had to put in my shift until midnight. Such is the life of a radio jock around Christmas time.

And I still want to lie down and sleep. Hopefully, things will be better come tomorrow—nope, wait, I have a friggin’ doctors appointment at the VAMC in the early morning.

I like to see my MD’s before they’ve had to deal with the onslaught of patients throughout the day.

It doesn’t help my exhaustion one bit now. That appointment was made over a month ago.

And as I think about it, I’ll probably get a change in my meds and that means waiting at the pharmacy for another hour. Oh, crap—the though leaves me even more exhausted.

At least I can laugh at myself and at the situation. I really thought I was helping myself by getting an early morning appointment.

Wrong. I will be back home by 1 a.m. and possibly asleep an hour later.

It’s the best I can do. With that, I am looking forward to whatever amount of sleep I can get.

Right now though, I have to refocus my energy and attention to the job at hand; re-writing and re-gurgitating the local news every hour. It’s all part of my life as a disc jockey.

Tossed wide my ol’ loop for that pony to wear.
And knew from his eye that I too must beware.
We dance back and forth as the dust flies thick.
And I know’d that he’s angry with each snort and each kick.

And jus’ when I figger I’m in for one helluva fight,
That’s when my wife chimes, “Honey, Good night!”
Well, I open my eyes with this wild looking stare.
I’m jus’ snappin’ broncs from my old easy chair!

Today I was thinking about how much I miss going to church on Sunday and as things go, one thought rolled into the next and so forth, until I got to thinking about the first time I realized I was an independent person; separate from my parents and siblings. It’s a thought that had never before occurred to me.

It was my birthday 1975, early morning as I recall. I was laying on my right side, facing the wall, on the top bunk of the bed set I shared with my younger brother.

As I struggled to wake up, I looked at my left hand. As I looked at it, I noticed my little finger.

There was nothing wrong with the hand or my finger. Instead it looked more or less the same as it had the night before, so what made me notice it and why was it suddenly so interesting?

It was simply the fact that it had turned 15 years old, jus’ like me.

I was marveling at the idea that it had been with me all these years and I had never paid it much attention.

That led me to take notice of myself; my personality and my private thoughts. All the years before I had taken what others, such as my parents, teachers and friends thought and believed and made them a part of my own.

On that day, my fifteenth birthday, I came to realize I was as complete a person as God had designed me. Of everything that day–this is all I can remember about turning 15.

So this morning, as I thought about this and remembering how I felt, it occurred to me that God doesn’t need a church to teach us a lesson about ourselves. He’s a gentle preacher and I really enjoyed our sunrise chat.

The good news is that it ISN’T cancer!

For the last three weeks I’ve been sweating out this news and biting the bullet. I think I’ll get a pretty good night sleep from here on.

The blood in my stool, pain while urinating, and having to get up to pee several times a night and an elevated PSA test lead to the thought that it may have been prostate cancer.

And like all health issues there is a “but” involved.

Yet my doctors think I can overcome these issued with a little exercise and better eating habits. My blood pressure was higher than it has been in the last four years.

This is especially concerning for me since my father died of a stroke in July 1995. Jus’ after his death I underwent a lot of stress and saw my blood pressure rise dangerously high.

In essence my doctor back than said I was a walking stroke jus’ waiting to happen.

It was that scary message that caused me to get on the ball. I started eating more fruits and veggies.

I knocked off the salt and much of my coffee drinking, limiting myself to no more than two cups a day.

At the time I had four jobs that I worked at and two of them I could walk too as I only lived a couple of miles from either. And thats what I did—walked as much as I could, losing around 20 pounds in around three months.

Now, I’m planning to do the same thing. My doctors tell me that I’m at 33-percent body mass index, meaning I’m grossly overweight.

Yes–50 pounds is grossly overweight. My cholesterol is 40 points too high and my triglycerides are nearly 120 points over my target.

My plan is to walk 20-30 minutes everyday. Cut out the coffee, salt and snacks. And drink eight-plus glasses of water daily.

I am looking at a goal of losing 25 pounds by March 1st or roughly two pounds a week.

There have been some attacks levied against me for claiming to be a Christian and also accepting as friends, people or organizations that offer pictures of themselves half-naked. I am a person who is willing to take an attacker head-on, so my answer is thus: I’d rather be like Jesus, hangin’ with the Sinners than the Saints.

But before you read this and get angry at me for calling us Sinners, read on…

The word “pornograhy” appears as early as 1840 in common literature, evolving from the French “pornographie” meaning “description of prostitutes,” and from the Greek “pornographos” which means “(one) writing of prostitutes.” It is also rooted in Latin from “porne” which means “prostitute” and is related to “pernanai” meaning to “to sell,” being associated with the “sex trades” and “graphein” meaning to “to write.”

Originally the word was used to describe classical art and writing. “Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure,” also known as “Fanny Hill,” is one such novel written by John Cleland in 1748. It’s is considered the first modern “erotic novel” in English, and has become a byword for the battle of censorship of erotica.

The more modern meaning is “salacious writing or pictures” and is a slight shift from the original etymology. An example of what was considered “salacious” at the time of their publications were D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” and “Riders of the Purple Sage,” written by western novelist Zane Grey. Both appeared in the first half of the 20th century.

As for the word “pornography” appearing in the bible; it is not there.

The word has never appeared in the Holy Bible however the word “harlot” has since been replaced by the word “prostitute.” That word was placed in the Bible by 18th century Theocratic editors in order to develop a society that would not tolerate the “sex trades.”

This created the existing idea that “pornography” is anything that has to do with nudity. It appears it has become acceptable to change the meaning a word for religions sake, leaving some to believe a words exist in the Bible that isn’t really there.

Another example of this is the word, “Sacrilegious.” It is not in the Holy Bible either but many Preachers use it and refer to it Biblically.

Do nude or partially photographs of the human body, like swim suit calendars or Playboy which offers no sexual intercourse in its pages at all, qualify as “pornography” or is it art?

You must answer this question for yourself.

There have been some attacks levied against me for claiming to be a Christian and also accepting as friends, people or organizations that offer pictures of themselves half-naked. I am a person who is willing to take an attacker head-on, so my answer is thus: I’d ra•ther be like Jesus, hangin’ with the Sinners than the Saints .

But before you read this and get angry at me for calling us Sinners, read on …

The word •pornography” appears as early as l840 in common literature, evolving from the French “pornographie• meaning “description of prostitutes,” and from the Greek “pornographos” which means, “(one) writing of prostitutes.” It is also rooted in Latin from “porne” which means “prostitute” and is related to “pernanai” maning to •to sell,” being associated with the “sex trades” and “graphein” meaning to “to write .”

Originally the word was used to describe classical art and writing. “Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure,” also known as “Fanny Rill,” is one such novel written by John Cleland in l748.

It’s is considered the first modern “erotic novel” in English, and has become a byword for the battle of censorship of erotica.

The more modern meaning is “salacious writing or pictures,” and is a slight shift from the original etymology.  An example of what was considered “salacious” at the time of their publications were D.R. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley ‘s Lover,” and “Riders of the Purple Sage,” written by western novelist Zane Grey.

Both appeared in the first half of the 20th century.

As for the word “pornography” appearing in the bible; it is not there. The word has never appeared in the Bible, however the word “harlot” has since been replaced by the word “prostitute.”

That word was placed in the Bible by l8th century Theocratic editors in order to develop a society that would not tolerate the “sex trades.” This created the existing idea that “pornography” is anything that has to do with nudity.

It appears it has become acceptable to change the meaning a word for religions sake, leaving some to believe a words exist in the Bible that isn’t really there.  Another example of this is the word, “sacrilegious,” which not in the Bible either, but many Preachers use it and refer to it Biblically.

Do nude or partially photographs of the human body, like swim suit calendars or Playboy, which offers no sexual intercourse in its pages at all, qualify as “pornography” or is it art? You need to decide for yourself and quit pointing fingers.

The government in the state of Iowa must have TOO much time on their hands as they have decided to tax pumpkins! Now, this may not seem like much, but the pumpkin is a food and therefore not taxed as a rule.

Yet some smart-assed pencil pusher figured out that some of this ‘food’ was being used as decor for the holiday.

If an Iowan wishes to declare their pumpkin as food all they need do is fill out the paperwork and submit it to the state. So do the math: the tax is five-percent or five cents on the dollar, the paperwork is about 15 cents per page and there are two pages to fill out.

Iowans should take their pumpkins down to the state capital and leave them in protest. I also think every Iowan should get the paperwork and declare their pumpkins as food, then sit back and wait to see how much money ends up in the states tax coffer.

There is also word that the popularity of certain political candidates in the form of Halloween costumes is a GOOD way to determine who will win the next presidential election. Silly me, here I thought going to the ballot box was the only way to determine an election.

And as a personal observation–when I was a kid and used to go trick-or-treating, I remember getting candy bars as big as baseball bats. So what the heck happened to that kind of candy?

A little research shows that at some point in the early 80’s, candy makers under pressure from various health conscious consumer groups, decided to create ‘mini’ treats — smaller candy bars. These consumer groups had somehow concluded that the BIG candy bars were far too much candy for kids and were leading to obesity.

What they didn’t think about was the person at the door handing out bunches of these ‘little’ goodies. That means those ghosts and goblins will end up with more after all.

And yes, if you think some of your favorite candies have gotten smaller, you are correct. These same groups, using the same lobbying techniques, convinced candy makers that they were doing a ‘good’ thing for consumers.

So tonight, I plan to wear my President Bush mask, eat pumpkin pie and hand out complete, unopened bags of mini-candy bars.

We have family living down south in California. My wife grew up in Ramona, which is 60 miles from San Diego and Ramona was evacuated last night.

Her sister lives there still with her husband and two kids. Her brother also lives there and has decided to stay to protect his home that he shares with his wife and a stepdaughter.

Her ex-sister-in-law, a niece, her son, a nephew and his new bride all left town to escape the possible danger. We’ve also heard that one friend has lost his home so far because of the blaze.

The news is covering the many wildfires, especially in the Malibu area, but because there are very few famous people living in Ramona, very little has been said. Only CNN had a reporter on the ground claiming to be in Ramona.

Unfortunately she wasn’t in the town itself, as when the camera panned to her right (our left on the screen) they showed a Longs Drug–which Ramona doesn’t have. And we were never able to figure out where she was located.

Finally, we resorted to searching the internet for those private little reports made in video form– I hate to admit it–YouTube–for more information. It’s how we learned that Mt. Woodson, jus ‘ south of town was burning and that Julian, which is north of Ramona, was being threatened by fires.

So make YouTube your number one source for local, national, and international breaking news.