How quaint

From some garage or auction sale I have an old window fan, the small one with expandable sheet-metal wings designed to be placed under a sash open about ten inches. It's a supurb idea, particularly to exhaust a kitchen where garlic is popular. This morning mine started wheezing and stalling. I was distraught because they're hard to find. Then I remembered how we used to live and took a look. Sure enough, a little hole in the housing is marked, "oil."

Huh? Well of course I keep a can of 3-in-1 oil handy. Do you take me for a yuppie or something?

Scholarly Report

History reveals all sorts of things, even the probable origin of hoary jokes. For instance, contemporary writer George Ruxton created a composite 1830s Rocky Mountain fur trader named Killbuck who yarned a lament on his bad luck with Indian wives.

"...There wasn't enough scarlet cloth nor beads nor vermilion in Sublette's packs for her. Traps wouldn't buy her all the fofurraw she wanted; and in two years I sold her to Cross-Eagle for one of Jake Hawkins guns -- this very one I now hold in my hands...".

So next time you hear about a guy who got a gun for his wife "great trade, eh," you'll know.

Say what?

The police chief shot one of his officers in the Carter Lake, Iowa, station yesterday. Here's the official explanation as relayed by the AP

"City Attorney Joe Thornton says Police Chief Shawn Kannedy was discussing firearms with two officers on Wednesday when Kannedy’s weapon went off. Sgt. Dan Driver was hit in the torso."

The chief said "go bang" maybe? Sounds more like a finger on the trigger. There's a rule against that, I think.

Sgt. Dan is in the hospital. Chief Kannedy is under suspension. I am pondering the universal government mantra that us poor klutzy civilians should entrust our personal defense to the "trained professionals."

Idly thinking

Is the Obama administration yet bad enough to make Lyndon LaRouche look good?