A cheery note from the Caspian folks is disrupting my plans. Some family is visiting this weekend, and I vowed to tidy the place in their honor. But the commanderish slide is en route, scheduled to arrive here at Camp Jiggleview, of which I am Commandant, in about 40 hours.
I feel a distraction coming on, and if any of my people are looking for housekeeping lapses, I'm afraid they may find them. It seems more urgent to sort through the parts one more time, calibrate the mike, ensure enough 400-grit emery and jewelers rouge are on hand. And so forth.
Commanders are just so studly. All a sophisticated Boomer needed in his glory days was the short 1911 for everyday wear along with a PPk for strictly formal occasions. (The Walther rode nicely in our cummerbunds.) Bring on the Symbionize Liberation Army. Bring on Goldfinger.
The pleasure will be in the build. No matter how well armed, I am unlikely to be summoned to Double-0h-Seven evil-doers. It is enough to know that if I were, I would be equipped to shoot them through in a stylish, yet classic, fashion.
Pocketa pocketa pocketa.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 8, 2014
Circle the wagons
The Indians are coming!
Senator Pocahontas has scouts in Iowa, you know, the place where we decide who you can vote for. They're beating her tom-tom at the state fair despite -- we'll use her white-eye name here -- Liz Warren's solemn statement that she is not running for president.
Her Massachusetts dog soldiers aren't buying that. Maybe we, also, should be leery of her solemn statements because she once solemnly avowed Cherokee ancestry. She billed herself as a native American on the Harvard faculty list. That allowed Harvard to pimp itself out as a diversity bastion.
When it became obvious in her 2012 campaign that she is about as Injun as Martin Luther, she skedaddled back and forth and sideways until she finally came up with a dandy Kumbayah evasion:
Warren said she listed herself as a minority because she wanted to connect with “people for whom native American is part of their heritage and part of their hearts.”
And she did it for at least 10 years.
About the only question regarding her forked tongue is: "Poky, did you lie about it at first -- when you applied to Harvard -- in order to score heap big affirmative-action hiring points?"
She said no. Ted Kennedy said he "dived repeatedly" in a heroic effort to rescue Mary Jo.
---
A small political datum lies here. Someone is willing to bet a little time and money that Hillary won't run. Hillary will, according to all present signs, but if she doesn't >big war whoop<.
Senator Pocahontas has scouts in Iowa, you know, the place where we decide who you can vote for. They're beating her tom-tom at the state fair despite -- we'll use her white-eye name here -- Liz Warren's solemn statement that she is not running for president.
Her Massachusetts dog soldiers aren't buying that. Maybe we, also, should be leery of her solemn statements because she once solemnly avowed Cherokee ancestry. She billed herself as a native American on the Harvard faculty list. That allowed Harvard to pimp itself out as a diversity bastion.
When it became obvious in her 2012 campaign that she is about as Injun as Martin Luther, she skedaddled back and forth and sideways until she finally came up with a dandy Kumbayah evasion:
Warren said she listed herself as a minority because she wanted to connect with “people for whom native American is part of their heritage and part of their hearts.”
And she did it for at least 10 years.
About the only question regarding her forked tongue is: "Poky, did you lie about it at first -- when you applied to Harvard -- in order to score heap big affirmative-action hiring points?"
She said no. Ted Kennedy said he "dived repeatedly" in a heroic effort to rescue Mary Jo.
---
A small political datum lies here. Someone is willing to bet a little time and money that Hillary won't run. Hillary will, according to all present signs, but if she doesn't >big war whoop<.
Aug 3, 2014
Zippo side bar (or) Nautical Considerations (2)
Let me tell how it was in the Old Navy, Son.
We all smoked. A few limpies carried Ronsons to illustrate their elevation above the common herd. Most of us, though, real sailors, carried Zippos. And we didn't pay the exorbitant ten or fifteen cents for lighter fluid at the Ship's Store.
Instead we had an irregular series of Zippo parties. We borrowed a Planters Peanuts can half full of gasoline from a friendly snipe. They kept it on hand for the Handy Billy.
We slipped the works from the case and dunked them for a few seconds. Perfect fill and we were good for a week or more of wind-proof (hah) flame to set our Luckies and Camels alight.
It was all part of military wisdom, midnight requisitioning, the art of cumshaw.
---
Glossary:
Cumshaw: An unauthorized transfer of United States Navy assets from one use to another. The penalties for getting caught ranged from an ostensibly disapproving grin to thirty or forty years in Portsmouth Naval Prison.
Handy Billy: A portable water pump for clearing flooded spaces. An exceptionally talented snipe could often make it run and pump.
Midnight Requisition: See cumshaw.
Military wisdom: Something of an oxymoron but, at a deeper level, a necessary survival tool.
Snipe: A man in the engineering department, such as an EM.
We all smoked. A few limpies carried Ronsons to illustrate their elevation above the common herd. Most of us, though, real sailors, carried Zippos. And we didn't pay the exorbitant ten or fifteen cents for lighter fluid at the Ship's Store.
Instead we had an irregular series of Zippo parties. We borrowed a Planters Peanuts can half full of gasoline from a friendly snipe. They kept it on hand for the Handy Billy.
We slipped the works from the case and dunked them for a few seconds. Perfect fill and we were good for a week or more of wind-proof (hah) flame to set our Luckies and Camels alight.
It was all part of military wisdom, midnight requisitioning, the art of cumshaw.
---
Glossary:
Cumshaw: An unauthorized transfer of United States Navy assets from one use to another. The penalties for getting caught ranged from an ostensibly disapproving grin to thirty or forty years in Portsmouth Naval Prison.
Handy Billy: A portable water pump for clearing flooded spaces. An exceptionally talented snipe could often make it run and pump.
Midnight Requisition: See cumshaw.
Military wisdom: Something of an oxymoron but, at a deeper level, a necessary survival tool.
Snipe: A man in the engineering department, such as an EM.
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