Oct 26, 2010

A little better than a year ago, I was at work, praying my hart out.  I've got family that sails the lakes, as well as friends I've not seen in years.  Even here the weather men were making comparisons to November 1975.  I couldn't help remembering a song we used to request Kim to sing at the Peanut Barrel or maybe Claddagh, in my college days.  We called it the "Dead Ship Song".  I guess that was a smug college kids way of dealing with something that I hadn't the least bit of a clue about.

The weather report that day had me worried. Gary was on the Jackson and they hadn't made port.  There is a web site that tracks ship movements.  I keep hitting refresh every couple of seconds, hoping to see the ship come up.  All it reported was that the Jackson was out of Duluth bound for the Rouge.

The waves on Superior were reported 30 to 40 foot with winds up to 90 miles an hour.  This was way worse than Nov 10, 1975.  I was just a boy then and I don't remember much of it, but I learned more about it as I got older.   Enough that in 1991 when I was offered a chance to sigh on as a cooks mate on the Paul R. Tregurtha, I turned it down.  Perhaps that was a dumb move.  If I'd done it, I'd have my 20 in this year and could retire at the end of season pulling down about $5k a month.

When I saw the Jackson had made port, I thanked God.  I also made a phone call, it went unanswered, just like the one I made a minute ago, but that as they say is another story.

HIgher Education

"Where did you receive your training?"

"Yale."

"Good. And what's your name?"

"Yim Yohnson."


Would you have read the post if I titled it Bad Joke Wednesday?

Internet Friends

I enjoy meeting people in real life that I've met on the blogs.  Its usually very enlightening.  Over the years I've had the chance to met several people and I've always enjoyed it.  Today I got to wondering, "what would happen if some of my internet friends got together for a weekend?"  For instance what would happen if Farmer Tom and Astrosmith had a couple of days to hang out?  Wonder no more.

Marines and Momma

The white haired women stands by the gate, it’s late and the day has been long.  Yet she waits.  A while latter a blond bounds through the doors and over to her.  Her walk is more of a bounce, a youthful skipping and hoping motion that to older eyes is annoying for its youthful vigor.  The older woman is both perturbed and amused.  “His plane isn’t here yet”, she offers.

“Oh good” the young girl giggles, “I want him to see me first”.  The girl is a blond of the dish water variety; not magazine cover drop dead eye candy, more of a solid old fashioned, girl next door kind of cute.  She’s not the school beauty but she runs in the top tier and most of the other girls probably envy her for being “the in crowd”.   Her perky B cups defy gravity briefly as she hops around excitedly.  “Oh he’s been gone so long” she sighs.  She is still wearing her green Albertson’s grocery store apron and she’s popped out over the top.  The older women just smiles at her exuberance and motions for her to “fix that” as another couple walk in.

The husband and wife come over to the gate.  They too look like it’s been a long day.  The wife has a cross look on her face as the blond introduces her to the first white haired lady.  “This is my mom, Mrs. X” she coos.  I can’t hear if the old biddy is actually saying hello or just nodding a terse acknowledgment.  A boy comes running in and asks the father if the plane is in yet.  The dad shakes his head in the negative.  Another young man with a short hair cut comes around the display case and assumes an at ease position behind the family.

This solves the mystery of who these people are.  The newest arrival looks to be all of 17 and is wearing a rust red jacket with an EGA on it.  The guy they are waiting for must have just finished boot camp and is coming home for leave.   I think I recognize the man.  If I remember correctly he is a pastor at a local church.  I don’t go to his church but I think I’ve seen him around town.  It looks like two of his boys enlisted.  That’s a proud thing.

A plane is taxing up to the gate.  Some travelers come in off the tarmac.  The youngest boy runs out the door.  This is a security breech.  The TSA blue crew sees, but does nothing.  The kid is a freshman, not Al Qaeda.  We still know the difference here.   His dad gives the boy a nervous “get over here now” motion and the young man comes back inside.   “I saw him” he says excitedly.  “I can tell by his walk, he walks like you do” he says to his older brother.  The young marine smiles and nods, but says nothing.

A very lean boy walks in the sliding doors and a blond girl bounces past his increasingly irate mother to get the first hug in.  They start clapping for him.  Then the passengers on his plane applaud, as do the other people waiting in the lobby.  I’m by the baggage claim and join in.  One of ours has come home, at least for a visit.

I get my first close look at the two brothers.  They look young, I can’t believe these two kids are old enough to drive.  The young man grabs his sea bags off the baggage belt, and sets them down.  His mom and dad are making all kinds of arrangements, or rather his mom is and dad is trying to pretend he still has a pair. Mom has now brushed the blond to the back and SHE is taking charge.  The girl looks rejected as her mother puts her hand on her arm and pulls her back.  The drama is compelling.

That’s when I notice something else.  The two brothers are both in civvies but they still wear combat boots.  A dog tag is laced up next to the tongue with just the eyelet showing.  The young man in the rust red jacket gives the new arrival a nod, as if to say “how was it”?  He shrugs.  No words are spoken, they nod and they know.  I can see the airline tags on the marines sea bags, two of them are in Arabic, one says Okinawa to L.A.  This isn’t a reunion after a 13 week trip to boot; this boy has been away for awhile.  

Neither one of these young men tip the scales at 150.  Neither one of them look old enough to drive.  You’d card them if they tried to get into an “R” rated movie.  The eyes tell a different story, a story older than their years.  As the group moves towards the exit mom moves to block the blond girl from coming with them.  I see the look in the girl friends eyes.  She chokes back a tear; her eager enthusiasm has been thwarted. 

I have heard it said that the number one thing a man dying on the field of battle asks for is his mother.  A man returning from battle wants something mom can’t give.  It's a kind of comfort but its more, it affirms life and manhood, in a way that momma can't.  He’s earned it.  "Hey mom, the innocence your trying to protect is gone, being a bitch isn’t gong to bring it back."

Voting

Have you ever bet on a fart, and lost?

You know it might stink. The important thing is, if its an SBD nobody else knows YOU did it.   What the heck. Right? To have the little sucker betray you and leave a skid mark worse; a greasy, all day odorous, skid mark, well that's just wrong, Right?

Voting the lessor of two evils is betting on a fart.  You know its going to stink.  You're just hoping it doesn't leave a big streak of poo on your back side.  It always does.  You'd think we'd learn not to do it.

Self Evident

I haven't made up my mind about the whole Occupy Wall Street thing.  Is the system fixed? Yeah as much as the players can fix it.  You don't send your kid to an Ivy League school for nothing.  There is a reason half the class go to fancy pants jobs and the other half goes to government procurement offices. That reason has nothing to do with the betterment of the country or a desire to serve "the Public".

But, and this is a big but, do the Occupiers have my best interests at hart?  I don't think so.  They get their funding from left wing political agitators like George Soros.  Who is George Soros anyway?  Apparently he's a rich guy too, according to this, worth about $22 Billion.  Not a bad chunk of change.  Did he go to a Ivy league school?  Does the London School of Economics count as Ivy, or does it just help you land a job doing arbitrage trades on Wall Street?  Cause thats what George did after college, which came after WWII.  George was too young to do much during the war.  Ever industrious though, George had a job handing out eviction notices to Jews who were going to the death camps and apparently he made a couple of bucks on the side pawning their left over belongings.  Seems like an odd enterprise for a Jewish kid.  Maybe he's just a tad flexible with the ethics when it comes to getting what he wants.

Occupy Wall Street, funded by Billionaire, Holocaust Profiteer George, Hedge-fund owner and Wall Street Insider, Soros.  WTF is this all about?  The guy bank rolling the protesters is one of the biggest inside traders of the last 50 Years.  What could be his motive?  Well if history is any indicator then the past might give us a clue to the present.  Is there a past?  The Brits call it, Black Wednesday.  The long and short of it is that during a little financial crisis, George Soros, with some fast and furious Forex trading, broke the Bank of England, and made about a Billion pounds sterling.  Remember the Asian Financial Crisis?  George Soros does, not sure how much he made on that one.  He thought it too little and lamented that they got out of the trades too early.  Apparently every seven to ten years or George needs to make a quick buck and he's not having any luck getting the Nazi's back together.

Occupy Wall Street seems to be a bit of theater, dressed up as social crisis to facilitate some Forex trades.  I'm just guessing here but I think George has shorted the dollar.  So George has set up his own little empire of concerned citizens  dumb ass pawns that do his bidding.  I guess we've got George's motive, whats theirs?

cosmetologist (ˌkɒzmɪˈtɒlədʒɪst)

—n

a person skilled or trained in the use of cosmetics and beauty treatments.

In my defense I thought the chick was a guy. I guess we all know why shes out of work, evil capitalist pigs.