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God Is Great, Beer Is Good.... And My Parents Are Crazy!
11月25日

He’ll Live to see Thanksgiving

 

Obama finds 'Courage' and pardons the turkey

Last night they stayed at the posh Willard hotel in Washington.

This afternoon they fly first class to California, where they will be honorary grand marshals for Disneyland's Thanksgiving Day parade. 

But today, a turkey named Courage -- and an alternate named Carolina, in case Courage is unable to complete his duties -- received President Obama's first presidential pardons. 

Flanked by his daughters, Malia and Sasha -- who he said lobbied for the pardon -- Obama said the two turkeys had been spared the "terrible and delicious fate" of being served for dinner. You could tell he was tempted to eat Courage. As for his daughters, Malia observed astutely that Courage looked like a big chicken.

"There are certain days when I'm reminded why I ran for this office," Obama quipped. "And then there are days like this." On a more serious note, he called Thanksgiving a quintessentially American holiday, and an occasion to give thanks to soldiers separated from their families by war. You can read his remarks below.

 

REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT

ON PARDONING OF THE NATIONAL TURKEY

 

North Portico

 

11:41 A.M. EST

 

     THE PRESIDENT:  Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.  Welcome to the White House.  On behalf of Sasha and Malia and myself, we're thrilled to see you.  I want to thank Walter Pelletier, chairman of the National Turkey Federation, and Joel Brandenberger, its president, for donating this year's turkey.  His name is "Courage," and he traveled here from Goldsboro, North Carolina, where he was raised under Walter's own precious care.

 

     (Turkey gobbles.)

 

     THE PRESIDENT:  There you go.  (Laughter.)

 

Now, the National Turkey Federation has been bringing its finest turkeys to the White House for more than 50 years.  I'm told Presidents Eisenhower and Johnson actually ate their turkeys.  You can't fault them for that; that's a good-looking bird.  (Laughter.)  President Kennedy was even given a turkey with a sign around its neck that said, "Good Eatin', Mr. President."  But he showed mercy and he said, "Let's keep him going."  And 20 years ago this Thanksgiving, the first President Bush issued the first official presidential pardon for a turkey.

 

Today, I am pleased to announce that thanks to the interventions of Malia and Sasha -- because I was planning to eat this sucker -- (laughter) -- "Courage" will also be spared this terrible and delicious fate.  Later today, he'll head to Disneyland, where he'll be grand marshal of tomorrow's parade.  And just in case "Courage" can't fulfill his responsibilities, Walter brought along another turkey, "Carolina," as an alternate, the stand-in.

 

Now, later this afternoon, Michelle, Malia, Sasha and I will take two of their less fortunate brethren to Martha's Table, an organization that does extraordinary work to help folks here in D.C. who need it the most.  And I want to thank Jaindl's Turkey Farm in Orefield, Pennsylvania, for donating those dressed birds for dinner.  So today, all told, I believe it's fair to say that we have saved or created four turkeys.  (Laughter.)

 

You know, there are certain days that remind me of why I ran for this office.  And then there are moments like this -- (laughter) -- where I pardon a turkey and send it to Disneyland.  (Laughter.)  But every single day, I am thankful for the extraordinary responsibility that the American people have placed in me.  I am humbled by the privilege that it is to serve them, and the tremendous honor it is to serve as Commander-in-Chief of the finest military in the world -- and I want to wish a Happy Thanksgiving to every service member at home or in harm's way.  We're proud of you and we are thinking of you and we're praying for you.

 

When my family and I sit around the table tomorrow, just like millions of other families across America, we'll take time to give our thanks for many blessings.  But we'll also remember this is a time when so many members of our American family are hurting.  There's no question this has been a tough year for America.  We're at war.  Our economy is emerging from an extraordinary recession into recovery.  But there's a long way to go and a lot of work to do.

 

In more tranquil times, it's easy to notice our many blessings.  It's even easier to take them for granted.  But in times like these, they resonate a bit more powerfully.  When President Lincoln set aside the National Day of Thanksgiving for the first time -- to celebrate America's "fruitful fields," "healthful skies," and the "strength and vigor" of the American people -- it was in the midst of the Civil War, just when the future of our very union was most in doubt.  So think about that.  When times were darkest, President Lincoln understood that our American blessings shined brighter than ever.

 

This is an era of new perils and new hardships.  But we are, as ever, a people of endless compassion, boundless ingenuity, limitless strength.  We're the heirs to a hard-earned history and stewards of a land of God-given beauty.  We are Americans.  And for all this, we give our humble thanks -- to our predecessors, to one another, and to God.

 

So on this quintessentially American holiday, as we give thanks for what we've got, let's also give back to those who are less fortunate.  As we give thanks for our loved ones, let us remember those who can't be with us.  And as we give thanks for our security, let's in turn thank those who've sacrificed to make it possible, wherever they may be.

 

Now, before this turkey gets too nervous that Bo will escape and screw up this pardon -- (laughter) -- or before I change my mind, I hereby pardon "Courage" so that he can live out the rest of his days in peace and tranquility in Disneyland.

 

And to every American, I want to wish you, on behalf of myself, Malia, Sasha, and Michelle, the happiest of Thanksgivings.  Thank you very much, everybody.  (Applause.)

 

But if the president thought the event a little light, the young aides in his White House were so tickled by its role in this odd tradition that they posted this preview on whitehouse.gov.

turkey

‘Courage’ in his hotel suite!

The silly tradition is often attributed to President Truman, but the Harry S. Truman Library and Museum says it can find no documentation of that. In fact, says the presidential library, "Truman sometimes indicated to reporters that the turkeys he received were destined for the family dinner table." In fact, what probably accounts for this rumor is that the National Turkey Federation started giving a turkey to presidents in a White House ceremony beginning in 1947.

In November 2001, George W. Bush said some believe President Lincoln started the tradition by pardoning his son Tad's pet turkey. But that may be more Lincoln myth than fact.

President Kennedy never issued a presidential pardon to a turkey, but on Nov. 19, 1963, just three days before his assassination, he observed, "Let's just keep him."

In fact, most historians believe the tradition of a formal pardon began with Bush's father, 41, the first President Bush.

Presidential pardons for turkeys are rare. According to the folks at the National Turkey Federation, an estimated 273 million turkeys were raised this year for consumption on American tables.

*************************************************************************************************************************

Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day, I’m doing a double post today.  I hope you find this one useful.

Last-minute Thanksgiving hors d'oeuvres, or as I call them, Horse Divers!

Your holiday menu is in hand. But what about hors d'oeuvres? Here are 25 last-minute appetizers.

Appetizera

Appetizers? Before Thanksgiving dinner?
Yes. Yes. And yes (in answer to your next question: "But will I have time to make them?").
The main event might be the big golden bird, but a thoughtful appetizer or two goes a long way toward making dinner special -- to say nothing of keeping your hungry guests occupied while you're putting the finishing touches on the real food.
With so much of the Thanksgiving menu scripted in stone, this is your opportunity to put something on the table that's unexpected: Wedges of Fuyu persimmon wrapped in prosciutto; servings of avocado mousse topped with crème fraîche, caviar and a little pistachio oil; or olives warmed with crushed red pepper, fennel seeds, lemon peel and garlic.

 
Here are 25 easy-to-make appetizers, most of which you can prepare in the time it takes to mash potatoes. They require little or no oven time. The only special equipment you might need is a blender or food processor. A couple -- the quick-pickled radishes and shishito peppers -- need a day's marinating; that calls for no extra work from you, just a modicum of forethought.

 
Cold seafood platter: Marinate cooked shrimp in orange juice and a little red chile. Arrange the shrimp around the outside of the platter and heap cold cracked Dungeness crab in the center.

Avocado mousse with caviar: Purée avocado with a little milk or cream until it's the consistency of pudding and season with salt and lemon juice. Place a couple of spoonfuls in a martini glass or small bowl, top with crème fraîche, caviar and a drizzle of pistachio oil.

Shaved fennel with slivered Parmesan: Slice the fennel as finely as you can, then toss it in a bowl with very good olive oil and fresh lemon juice. Use a vegetable peeler to shave sheets of Parmesan over top.

Roasted pepper bruschetta: Roast and peel red bell peppers (or use good-quality bottled ones). Dress them with olive oil and arrange them on toasted bread, then strew minced preserved lemon over top.

Fried sage leaves: Rinse whole sage leaves and pat them dry with a paper towel. Dust with flour and fry in 2 inches of hot olive oil.

 Fingerlings with anchovies: Steam fingerling potatoes. When cool, slice them in half lengthwise and top them with salted anchovy fillets that have been rinsed and patted dry. Drizzle lightly with olive oil and freshly ground black pepper.

Jicama salad: Cut jicama in matchsticks. Purée fresh cilantro, lime juice and vegetable oil in a blender. Dress several handfuls of baby greens with some of the dressing. Arrange the jicama over top and drizzle with a little of the remaining dressing.

Quick-pickled radishes: Salt a couple bunches of trimmed radishes and soak them in ice water to crisp. Make a pickling liquid by simmering three-fourths cup rice vinegar, one-half cup water, 1 tablespoon sugar and some whole black peppercorns and mustard seed. Place the drained radishes in a sealable container and pour the hot liquid over. Pickle for 1 day before serving.

 Spiced almonds: Sauté raw almonds in a hot skillet with one-half teaspoon olive oil until they are fragrant. Remove from the heat and season with coarse salt and a dash of smoked paprika or minced fresh herbs.
Home-cured olives: Season black or green brined olives with olive oil, lemon juice, crushed red pepper, fennel seeds, lemon peel and sliced garlic. Warm them briefly in the oven or on top of the stove and serve.

Stuffed piquillo peppers: Drain the peppers and pat dry. Spoon a little fresh goat cheese inside and arrange on a platter with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkling of minced garlic and parsley.

Orange, red onion and radish salad: Peel oranges and slice crosswise. Sliver red onions and thinly slice radishes. Combine in a bowl with pitted olives and dress with good olive oil.

Spiced breadsticks: Roll prepared pizza dough and run it through a fettuccine cutter on a pasta machine or cut it by hand as thinly as you can. Brush lightly with beaten egg white and sprinkle with a mixture of coarse salt, freshly ground black pepper and allspice. Arrange on a baking sheet and bake at 350 degrees until golden brown.

 Lavash crackers and muhammara: Purée until smooth three large roasted red bell peppers with a garlic clove, a little toasted cumin, lemon juice and a spoonful of pomegranate molasses. Grind in 1 1/2 cups toasted walnuts and 1/3 cup breadcrumbs until chunky. Season with salt and ground red pepper and pulse in olive oil to make a chunky paste. Serve in a bowl with lavash crackers alongside.


Charcuterie plate: Slice a thin dried sausage fairly coarsely, and a fatter dried sausage as thinly as you can and arrange them on a platter with prosciutto or Serrano ham.

Croustade with tapenade: Toast bread rounds, spread them with prepared tapenade and top with a dot of fresh goat cheese.


Bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with blue cheese: Slice dates open and remove the pits. Stuff with a chunk of good blue cheese. Wrap with a quarter strip of bacon and bake at 350 degrees until the bacon is crisp and the cheese is melted.


Quick-pickled peppers: Cut a slit in each of three-quarters pound of shishito peppers and blanch them briefly in boiling water. Simmer 2 1/2 cups rice vinegar with 2 cups water, some sliced garlic and onions, a couple of teaspoons salt, a tablespoon sugar and whatever whole spices you like. Place the blanched peppers in a sealable container and pour the hot liquid over. Pickle for 1 day before serving.

Cranberry bean salad: Dress cold cooked cranberry beans with lemon juice, olive oil and a fresh herb such as basil.


Smoked trout mousse: Purée smoked trout in a food processor with just enough softened butter to make a silky smooth consistency. Spread on crackers and dot with capers.

Candied walnuts: Stir walnuts in a bowl with just enough corn syrup to lightly coat, a little sugar and some salt and black pepper. Spread on a greased cookie sheet and bake at 325 degrees until toasted and fragrant.

 Prosciutto and Fuyu persimmon: Quarter the persimmons and remove the core if it's woody. Thinly slice and wrap with thinly sliced prosciutto or Serrano ham. Spear with a toothpick to hold in place and make serving easier.

Herbed puff pastry sticks: Thaw frozen puff pastry, butter one side and top with chopped fresh herbs. Use a pizza cutter to slice into thin strips, twist them, then bake at 375 degrees until puffed and golden.

Onion sandwiches: Slice red onions as thinly as possible, rinse under hot running water and pat dry. Generously butter thin slices of high-quality white bread and strew with the onions. Top with more generously buttered white bread and cut into serving pieces. This can also be done with radishes.

Date sweetmeats: Slice dates open and remove the pits. Roll a chunk of marzipan or almond paste mixed with a little orange zest into a ball and place it in the date cavity. Press firmly to seal.

I know that alot of these sound very exotic but they are all easy and GOOD!!  I really like the pickled radishes, the candied walnuts and the pastry sticks!************************************************************************************************************************

A thought for Thanksgiving:

God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today.  Have you used one to say “Thank You”?

William A. Ward

I hope you all have a Wonderful Thanksgiving

11月24日

Screaming kids and airplanes: Mayday! Mayday

 

With people traveling for the Holidays, I thought this was timely.

Parents don't have a right to get on a jet with unruly children. In fact, they're stealing from the rest of us.

A little late in making those Thanksgiving flight plans? Wondering how you could possibly afford your ticket -- that is, without putting a kidney up for sale on Craigslist? Good news! You can get a free flight home on Southwest plus a $300 travel voucher. Just do what I plan to -- get on a Southwest flight in the next few days, and when it's taking off, shout over and over, "Go, plane, go!" and "I want Daddy! I want Daddy!"
Pamela Root got the free flight and the voucher, plus an apology from Southwest, after her 2-year-old kept screaming those things at the top of his little lungs as their San Jose-bound flight was about to take off. In fact, little Adam reportedly screamed so loudly that the safety announcements couldn't be heard and the pilot turned the plane back to the gate in Amarillo, Texas, where the two were booted off.
Root was appalled when a flight attendant told her something to the effect of "We just can't tolerate that [screaming] for two hours," reported the San Jose Mercury News. Root insisted Adam would be "fine once we take off" -- which, in my book, means either "He'll be fine" or "It would be a serious pain in the butt to be stuck in Amarillo another day."

 
Unbelievably, Root demanded the apology she eventually got from the airline (shame, shame, Southwest) and hit it up for the cost of diapers and the portable crib she says she had to buy for the overnight stay. Even more unbelievably, there's still no word of any apology from Root to the other passengers.
There is a notion, reflected in numerous blog comments about the incident, that other passengers should "just deal" and "give a kid a break." This notion is wrong. Parents like Root and others who selfishly force the rest of us to pay the cost of their choices in life aren't just bothering us; they're stealing from us. Most people don't see it this way, because what they're stealing isn't a thing we can grab on to, like a wallet. They're stealing our attention, our time and our peace of mind.
More and more, we're all victims of these many small muggings every day. Our perp doesn't wear a ski mask or carry a gun; he wears Dockers and shouts into his iPhone in the line behind us at Starbucks, streaming his dull life into our brains, never considering for a moment whether our attention belongs to him. These little acts of social thuggery are inconsequential in and of themselves, but they add up -- wearing away at our patience and good nature and making our daily lives feel like one big wrestling smackdown.

 
Southwest sent the right message in yanking Root and her screaming boy off the plane. Unfortunately, it lacked the corporate courage to stand its ground, probably fearing a public relations nightmare from the Mommy Mafia. Yet, almost every day, I encounter parents who need to get the same message Root initially did. Trust me -- should I long to hear screaming children, I'll zip right past my favorite coffeehouse and go read my morning paper at Chuck E. Cheese.
I know, I know -- because I am not a parent I cannot possibly understand how hard it is to keep a child from acting out. Actually, that probably has more to do with the way I was raised -- by parents I describe as loving fascists. As a child, I was convinced that I could flap my arms and fly, but the idea that I could ever be loud in a public place that wasn't a playground simply did not exist for me.


I hear claims that some children are prone to tantrums no matter how exquisitely they are parented. If this describes your child, there's a solution, and it isn't plopping him in a crowded metal tube with hundreds of people who can't escape his screams except by throwing themselves to their deaths at 30,000 feet.
Granted, there sometimes are extenuating circumstances, reasons parents and their little hell-raiser simply must take a plane. Well, actually, there are two: dire family emergency (Granny's actually dying, not just dying to see the little tyke) and the need for a lifesaving operation for the wee screamer. In all other cases, if there's any chance a child is still in the feral stage, pop Granny on a flight or gas up the old minivan. It really does come down to this: Your right to bring your screaming child on a plane ends where the rest of our ears begin.

I have been through this way too many times!

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Our Governor – Now HE’S got explaining to do!

Just weeks after California first lady Maria Shriver apologized for parking in a red zone. her husband appears to have violated the same law.

The Web site TMZ.com on Monday posted photographs of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger getting into a silver convertible Porsche parked in a red zone.

Red zone violations generally get a $90 citation.  No comment from the Gov.

Last month, Shriver was caught on video parking her Cadillac Escalade in a red zone in Santa Monica.  That tape surfaced after several other videos showed her holding a cell phone while driving, another violation of state law.

I guess the laws only apply to us little people!

***************************************************************************************

And Finally…..

Kangaroo takes on owner and dog

Melbourne AustraliaA kangaroo startled by a man walking his dog, attacked the pair, pinning the pet underwater and slashing the owner in the abdomen.

Chris Rickard, 49, was in stable condition Monday after the attack, which ended when he elbowed the kangaroo in the throat.

Rickard said he was walking his Blue Heeler, Rocky, when they surprised the sleeping kangaroo.  The dog chased the animal into a pond, when the kangaroo turned and pinned it underwater.

Rickard said Rocky was “half-drowned” when he was pulled from the water.  The moral?:  Make sure your Blue Heeler ‘heels’!!!

 

You may or may not that I’ve made a slight change to my tag line.  No comment for now….

Still with her ball!!  LOL!!

She's a doll!!!

 

11月21日

Thanksgiving at our little Plymouth Rock

Cute story!!

By Chris Erskine

My wife is part Pilgrim. She's got all these funny ideas about religion and sex and is even pretty puritanical when it comes to what to stuff the turkey with.
"No oysters!" she's always shouting.

"Why not?"

"No oysters!" she shouts again, like the zealot she is.

Immediately, she goes back to stirring sauces and thwopping big metal pans with wooden spoons, which is what Pilgrim wives

do for kicks.

"Loosen up, woman," I say.

"Yeah, loosen up, woman," say her sons, which always goes over very well.

It's really nice to have your own personal Pilgrim. Even in L.A., the land of personal chefs and personal drivers, it's pretty rare to find a personal Pilgrim -- though folks with dour expressions and an aversion to commonplace pleasures are amazingly common here.

I was talking to my personal Pilgrim the other day, having a nice conversation about pumpkin soup on a perfect autumn afternoon, with the sun slicing in at hard angles, as it does in mid-November -- sun so focused you could almost fry onions with it.

After 30 years, we don't need much discussion, she and I. Our love exists in a Latin of hard stares and grimaces. Besides, I usually prefer to get my point across to her through Jedi mind tricks and sweet rolls, which work better than you might imagine. She says she never eats breakfast, but when I surprise her with sweet rolls she's been known to actually jump on my back and yodel.

But, sure, every once in a while we will talk. The subject this time is Thanksgiving Day itself. Like most Pilgrims, she prefers to have guests over, and it doesn't really matter whom, as long as they smile a lot and compliment her excellent cooking.

"No, the turkey isn't dry at all" is her favorite compliment. But she's also a sucker for "This pie crust is, like, soooooooo buttery."

So I was telling her how maybe it should just be us this year -- the core tribe -- rather than the granfalloon of acquaintances we usually assemble for Thanksgiving. Our friends Bill and Nancy, who usually join us, are headed for Maui anyway, and our friends the Greens, who usually decline, are maybe coming over, maybe not -- the wife has to talk to Debbie, after which things will still not be completely resolved. It's all very confusing and makes table settings a total pain.

I remind her how I'm not particularly good with guests anyway. I don't offer them chairs and forget to give them drinks. Arriving at our house is sort of like a visit to the pitcher's mound. After a minute, everyone is kicking at the dirt, not knowing what to say.

"I never noticed that," she says.

"He's bad, Mom, trust me," says the little guy, who has seen only the last six Thanksgivings. I've had worse.

Here's what it's like when I make idle chitchat with guests.

"Nice day," I say.

"Sure is," they answer, after which I just stand rigid for about five minutes, arms at my sides, till my wife brings me a glass of wine, at which point I launch into: "How about those Lakers?" and the entire process starts all over again -- rigid silence, broken by a little booze.

Often, our Thanksgiving guests flee before dinner, which is odd on a holiday that revolves around the feast itself. But it leaves way more dark meat for me. We usually manage to have the very same turkey again for Christmas.

So yeah, I wish every day were Thanksgiving -- who doesn't? Despite my awkwardness, my hesitation, my lack of social graces, I like that our little villa in the hills is a rallying point around the holidays. I like the way the kitchen windows steam up. I like the thump-boom of the oven door.

Mostly, I like how we often take in stragglers. This year's most-honored guest is likely to be the little girl herself, who arrives home from college today.

When she lived here for 18 years, nobody paid much attention to her, but now that she is away at school, our youngest daughter has attained an other-worldly status usually reserved for baby angels or reality show stars.

Of course, most likely she'll walk in, dump her bags, say, "Bye, Mom!" then bolt out the door to go have coffee with her beautiful and chatty friends.

Sometimes that's enough, though. My Pilgrim will glow like a candle to have her baby angels all home.

For that -- and for packed houses everywhere -- we give thanks.
 
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************
 
And finally, from the 'What was he thinking' File!!
 
 

In an apparently cold-blooded attempt at smuggling, a Lomita man was arrested at Los Angeles International Airport this week with more than a dozen wriggling lizards strapped to his chest.

Michael Plank, 40, was detained by U.S. Customs agents after they discovered 15 live lizards stuffed into his money belt, officials with the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service said Friday.

Plank was returning from Australia on Tuesday when agents found two geckos, 11 skinks and two monitor lizards in his possession. Australian reptiles are strictly regulated, and Plank didn’t have a required export permit, officials said.

The lizards are valued at $8,500.

Smuggling wildlife into the U.S. is a felony punishable by a $250,000 fine and up to 20 years in prison. Plank has been released on a $10,000 bond and will be arraigned Dec. 21 in a Los Angeles federal court, authorities said.
 
Only in L.A.!!!!  LOL!

I hope you are having a great Autumn weekend!



 
11月19日

My Turn

 

It’s Baxter.  The shy one with the short legs.  The one that Buzz picks on!!  But he’s my best friend… Bonnie is a pain in the a**l gland!

Hah!!

They tease me alot ‘cause I like to sleep so much.  When dad gets up I crawl under those warm blankets and sleep until I’m good and ready to make my appearance.  Of course, I never miss breakfast before I do that.  But I always find time to blog!!!

Bonnie's New Ball

Now, as for that ‘ball’ thing, I don’t know why they ever bother buying me one ‘cause Bonnie always ends up with all three of them.  Even if she’s outside, if I pick one up she seems to know.  She runs in, bowls me over and takes it away!  And when dad gives us pig ears he puts me on his lap to keep her away.  Females!!!!  And to make matters worse, dad clipped my claws…. my last line of defense, but he got tired of me drawing blood from his arms.  I love my humans except when they dress me up, like this!

  BaxterBoy 002 BaxterBoy 003

At least Bonnie gets something pretty..  Disgusting!!!!

Dog Clothes 001 Dog Clothes 002

Remember Burt, my tortoise friend??

Burt 002

I haven’t seen in a long time.  I think he’s sleeping, like I love to do, but dad says they only do that in the winter.  I hope he’s not under the house again. 

Uh oh!!  Bonnie is giving me a mean look so I gotta go!  As dad would say…

Yall take care!!

Baxter

11月16日

Don’t Listen to Bonnie!

 

This is Buzz, the handsome dog…See?

Bonnie's New Ball 001

Baxter and I don’t give a bark what she eats.  She never shares anyway but I had to laugh when I saw her losing it on the rug!  Poor Dad!!  It was 6:00 am and he almost added to it!  Besides, I’ve seen her eat her own poo!!  Ewwww!!  How could she?  She thinks she’s so tough, chasing cats, rabbits and squirrels but show her a cricket and she hides!  What’s with that?

Anyhow, ‘The Ball’!!  Dad brought home one for each of us (I still don’t understand how he can leave and yet always find his way back here!), and Bonnie took all three of them and wouldn’t share.  I finally got one of them but poor Baxter never got a whiff of one.  Maybe he’s the smart one because she slobbers on them.

Bonnie's New Ball 003

But all in all, we are good friends and do our best to protect the house.  Teamwork!!!

Beware!!! Guard Dogs!!

Well, most of us do…

Blog Photos 001 Blog Photos 002 Blog Photos 003

Well, Dad wants to use the Innertube or whatever it’s called and my nose has made a mess of his keyboard.  I wish I could type without having to use my nose.  I think I’ll take a nap.

Bonnie's New Ball 002

Bye for now!  Woof!!  Woof!!

11月14日

It’s Bonnie Again!

 

The nice dog.  These guys I live with are  %&*$#*@ morons!!  And as for mom, I put up with her.  Last night she left out almost a full bag of Peanut M&M’s and of course girls, you know how much we love chocolate!!  But I think I ate WAY too much!!  I barfed on the carpet (I never do it on the tile floor) and when Dad came out at 6:30 am he was slapping his forehead for some reason.  I guess he was proud of me!

Anyhow, my friends, I’m OK!!  I didn’t have time to digest before I puked!  Dad thought it was baked beans! But he found out fast that it wasn’t!!  I have to hide the empty bag better next time.  Keep them guessing!!

Now, that new ball!!  Bonnie's New Ball 

It’s my new best friend!!  My brothers are on their own.  I have two of these balls and DON’T like to share!  I’m the princess so they are MINE!!  Dad took me on a walk today and of course, the ball went with me.  Even when I’m napping, it stays close.

Bonnie's New Ball

Now if only Dad would  &*%$#+@ open the new bag of Pig Ears.  It better happen soon or next time I’ll vomit on his pillow!!!  Won’t be the first time!

Those guys who mow MY yard are coming today so I need to rest up.  Ankle biting is hard work!

Well Dad’s friends, until next time, have a good weekend!  Arf! Arf!

Bonnie  Bonnie's New Ball 001

11月13日

For Mars Rover ‘Spirit, it’s Do or Die This Time

 

I’ve always been fascinated reading stories about the Mars Rovers, Spirit and Opportunity.  They were only expected to survive for 90 days but it has been close to 6 years since they landed on the Red Planet.  Amazing that they are ‘driven’ by Rover operators from the Jet Propulsion Lab in California.  If only MSN could do this well!  But now, Spirit is in big trouble.

NASA scientists said Thursday that they had come up with a plan to free the stalled rover Spirit from its Martian sand trap but also warned that the plan might not work. If it doesn't, the popular robot could finally reach its end.
Rover managers will send the first in a new set of computer commands on Monday in an effort to maneuver Spirit out of the fluffy, loose soil where it's been stuck for the last six months. In a teleconference briefing for reporters, the Mars rover team said it was "optimistic" that Spirit would be able to resume its peregrinations across the Martian surface.
But in admitting that this is by far the most serious threat Spirit and its twin, Opportunity, have faced in the nearly six years they've been exploring Mars, the team members seemed to be preparing for the inevitable goodbye.


"This is bittersweet," said Doug McCuistion, director of the Mars exploration program at NASA. "Spirit did the equivalent of falling through the ice and has not been able to pull itself out."
Ashley Stroupe, a rover operator at the Jet Propulsion Lab in La Cañada-Flintridge, where the project is managed, spoke of "the tremendous bond" that has developed between team members and the computerized machines. The robots have gathered vast quantities of data about the Red Planet and its history while outliving every expectation for their survival.


Stroupe said she'd come to think of the rovers "as children you send off into the world. . . . We are very hopeful, but we're very concerned."


Expected to last just 90 days when they landed on Mars in 2004, the two rovers have survived more than five years and three Martian winters. They have surmounted not just planet-wide dust storms, but also technical glitches, including one that left Spirit with a gimpy front wheel that forced rover drivers to drive it backward. It was while maneuvering backward along the edge of a rocky plateau dubbed Home Plate -- in the giant Gusev Crater just south of the equator -- that Spirit got stuck.
The rover had broken through a surface crust, something like the brittle covering on a creme brulee dessert, and its wheels had sunk deeply into the sulfate-rich sand underneath. Unlike sand on Earth, Mars' dry atmosphere and lower gravity prevents the particles from bonding, making the subsurface soil almost as fluffy as cornstarch.
After the rover got stuck in April, JPL scientists simulated the mishap with a sandbox and test rover. But tests to devise an escape route for Spirit were not completely successful.
"We haven't found a clear solution for how to get Spirit out of its predicament," said John Callas, the rover project manager.


For now, the plan calls for the rover to try to back out the way it went in. The first commands will turn the wheels six times before stopping so scientists can assess the situation.
Besides the fluffy soil, rover scientists are concerned about a small rock under the robot. Further efforts to free the rover could cause the undercarriage to snag on the rock. Tests showed that if that happens, the wheels will lose traction and the rover could become permanently stuck.
In such a scenario, Spirit could still do science, but as a station, not a rover. Also, without the ability to move into a position that gets good sunlight to wait out the harsh Martian winter, its batteries could be drained, dooming the robot.

 
Even if the initial efforts Monday are unsuccessful, operators will continue their efforts to salvage Spirit at least through February, when a NASA review panel is scheduled to discuss the rovers' fate. If Spirit is still stuck, the panel could call off the rescue.
"If Spirit cannot make the great escape from this sand trap, this might be where Spirit ends its adventure on Mars," McCuistion said.


Over their nearly six years of exploration on Mars, the two rovers have helped unravel the planet's geological past. They also found evidence that water once flowed on the surface.
Opportunity is currently on the opposite side of Mars driving toward a large crater called Endeavor.

 
The rovers have attracted a worldwide fan base that has followed their every move and hardship. There's even a
“Free Spirit” campaign, which has its own logo emblazoned on T-shirts sold at the JPL store.

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I have kept my mouth shut about the Fort Hood murders however I do have a few things to say. 

It is indeed troubling that despite the post- 9/11 efforts to create interagency task forces to improve intelligence-sharing, communication lapses continue -- including those that may have led to the tragic massacre at Ft. Hood, Texas.
What possibly could be more important than doing everything possible to ensure the integrity of those who wear the uniforms of our armed services, and to whom we entrust our country's security?
One suggestion is for Congress, primarily those seated on the left side of the aisle, to stop meddling in the operations of the intelligence community and let them do their jobs.

U.S. intelligence officials?
Now that's a shining example of an oxymoron!

I wish you all a fine weekend!!

11月11日

Veterans Day – 90th Anniversary

 

I’m a Veteran of two tours of duty in Vietnam but do not honor me.  It is the Veterans of WWII that truly need to be honored and remembered.  So fly your flags and buy your poppies but most of all, remember. It's always a rough day for me.  I lost alot of good friends.

I read this today and wanted to share it with you.

WWII Museum: The number of WWII veterans is dwindling

William P. Rutledge

Member, Board of Trustees, the National World War II Museum, New Orleans, Louisiana

Today, Nov. 11, commemorates the 90th anniversary of Veterans Day in America. I encourage all Californians to seek out and thank a veteran for their service to our country, especially those who fought in World War II like my friend, Ollie Thomas, who was a tank commander with Patton's Third Army. For these men and women, this day grows only more poignant with each passing year because those who fought that war for us are leaving us.

As a member of the Board of Trustees of The National World War II Museum in New Orleans, I attended the opening of its new expansion last week. Though the event was celebratory, I left with some sobering statistics that illustrate the urgency of cementing the legacy of our World War II veterans while they are still with us.

In 2000, there were 555,974, WWII veterans in California, according to U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. There are now 213,118. Ten years from now, just 30,370 will be alive. Across the nation, we lose 900 WWII veterans a day.

It is urgent that we honor these heroes now, while there is time. Strangely, given the scope, magnitude and importance of World War II, America had been woefully late in acknowledging a debt we can never repay to those who defended the liberty we take for granted.

That is why completing The National World War II Museum is so important. In 2003, Congress designated the institution as the nation's World War II museum, preserving the legacy and telling the story of the "Greatest Generation."

It holds their memories and is a monument to their valor, but it's also a place where all Americans can come to learn the important lessons of World War II for all generations: freedom is not free.

The National World War II Museum tells the story in the words and voices of those who fought the war and faced its horrors. To visit it is to remember the lesson that peace without the resolve to defend freedom only brings blood, sweat, toil and tears. Its artifacts – aircraft, landing craft and personal accounts – link us to the young Americans who fought in WWII. They purchased for us a precious birthright we can't take for granted. And while reminding visitors of the sacrifices we made then, the National World War II Museum also symbolizes renewal. As it grows into its new campus in downtown New Orleans, the museum is helping with that city's post-hurricane recovery and becoming an anchor for a reviving city.

As we observe this special day of remembrance and thanks, it is my hope that the nation recognizes the sacrifice of the "Greatest Generation" to the preservation of this country's founding principles and the strength of the American spirit.

Again, I encourage you to seek out a World War II veteran and say "thank you." It might be the last chance you'll get to meet a genuine hero.

Blog Photos 11th Hour, 11th Day, 11th month…..

My Veterans Day song - Alan Jackson

11月10日

The ‘S’ Word – Obscenity is in the eye of the beholder

 

Nothing going on here today so here’s this:

Marcia . C Smith

By MARCIA C. SMITH

THE ORANGE COUNTY REGISTER

My editor's editor says he was told I can use the word only once in this column. My mom would probably frown at me if I used it at all. But arrange a Hoover vacuum company picnic, stage a Tootsie Pop convention, eavesdrop on the cell phone conversation of a 13-year-old girl or sit among a bunch of disgruntled sports fans in an arena – or a Hooters on an NFL Sunday – and you're bound to hear it.

Kids, cover your eyes.

The word is suck, which, for the sake of my personal employment, I will now refer to it as ‘The Less Vulgar S-verb’.

In sports, it has become part of the vernacular. The Detroit Lions and the Kansas City Chiefs do it. The Clippers have done it. It has been attached in slogans, signs and chants to the names of rivals, coaches, refs and visiting sports villains. It's acceptable. Usually.

Dictionaries commonly present their primary definition of The Less Vulgar S-verb with some mention of the "mouth" or "lips" before going on to mention secondary meanings involving "absorption" and the slang, which according to Dictionary.com, is "to be repellent or disgusting." The Web site even demonstrates the slang usage in a sentence: Poverty (S-verbs).

It seems fairly innocuous, right?

Well, it seems that slang usage has suctioned-up some quality time of the local teams' fan-conduct policymakers, prompting discussions about whether The Less Vulgar S-verb qualifies as lewd, obscene or vulgar enough warrant censorship.

People use it all the time in casual conversation to describe something that disgusts, disappoints, repels, stinks or, dare I say, blows. Granted, it's not the most appropriate word for church, a job interview or dinner with the grandparents.

But The Less Vulgar S-verb has fit snugly into the sports fans' word bank to express negative or dissenting opinion. And isn't that expression at the very core of the modern-day sports fan?

During a Chargers' game last season at Qualcomm Stadium, hundreds of fans at the victory over the Indianapolis Colts asked Brian Murphy, 33, of San Diego, where he got his T-shirt with "Peyton Manning (Stinks)" on its front and "So Does Eli" on its back. It was funny and done without controversy.

"I could have made a bundle selling them," he said.

But during this past regular season at Angel Stadium, at least three Halos fans were told by ushers to invert or use jackets to cover up the "Yankees (Repel)" T-shirts they had bought from street vendors in Boston.

"When did (The Less Vulgar S-verb) go back to being an obscenity," said Damian Hogan, 26, of Temecula. "It's not like I have (curse word), (curse word) or mother (curse word) on my chest. Whatever happened to freedom of expression?"

Then before the Oct. 30 game against Vancouver, Ducks' season-ticket holder Brian Gilmore and about a dozen of his friends were stopped at a Honda Center entrance by arena security for wearing their black, custom-printed "Ref You (The Less Vulgar S-verb)!" T-shirts. It was as if they were trying to bring in a live cheetah.

"Hold on, you can't wear that shirt in here," Gilmore recalled being told. "They (security) said, 'We have a new policy.'"

Gilmore and friends were protesting the officiating of the Oct. 26 defeat in which the Ducks lost, 6-3, to Toronto and were tagged for 17 penalties, including 14 minors for roughing, slashing, hooking and misconduct and one major for fighting.

"The ice was so heavily tilted toward the Maple Leafs that I made the shirt to show my frustration," said Gilmore, 34, of Costa Mesa. "I was so irritated when the security people told me I'd have to leave or change my shirt."

Gilmore said he and his friends were corralled by a dozen security personnel for more than 15 minutes. The puck had already dropped when arena representatives returned with free Ducks shirts they could be worn over their deemed-distasteful apparel.

"I couldn't believe the T-shirt was something bad because 'Ref You (The Less Vulgar S-verb)!" !' has got to be the most popular chant in the arena," said Gilmore.

Incensed, Gilmore went home Friday night and blogged about his experience on his site (www.refyousuck.com), attracting well more than his usual 1,200-a-day hits and getting him an interview on Bob McCown's "Prime Time Sports" radio show on Toronto's FAN 590.

The day the interview aired, Gilmore's blog had a record 17,023 visitors. Feeling entrepreneurial, Gilmore, who has been unemployed since being laid off from his construction job due to an S-verb-ing economy, printed up more shirts and sold more than 30 of them online for $14.99 apiece.

Meanwhile, the Honda Center and Ducks' front office staff discussed the situation and soon after decided that The Less Vulgar S-word wasn't so bad after all.

"We did talk about this, and we decided that the T-shirt is not inappropriate for now," said Tim Ryan, an executive vice president and the chief operating officer of the Ducks and Honda Center.

"It's a judgment call. We will always reserve the right to judge what is and isn't appropriate to have in the arena. ... We take into consideration the context and try to create a fun environment while showing respect for the fans."

This decision wasn't made in, shall we say, a vacuum. More than 45 Ducks and Honda Center staff members at the weekly meeting weighed in on the topic of The Less Vulgar S-verb.

When Gilmore and more than two dozen shirt-donning Ducks fans attended Saturday night's game against Phoenix, they didn't have a problem.

"We just walked right in, wearing the shirts, passing the same security guards who had stopped us the night before," Gilmore said. "I felt like I stood up for the fan."

Gilmore did. Had he been stopped, that would have (stunk).

I guess it's time to stir things up around here because it's way to quiet and that (The Less Vulgar S-verb) s.

 

11月9日

Post-Halloween Story

 

An Octomom costume provides a falsie sense of security

Chris Erskine

By Chris Erskine

Our Halloween was so good we would almost like to do it again a week later. The night was crisp and smelled of apples. We hit a couple of wonderful parties, raucous affairs, as befits the day.
The Snickers bars seem to get smaller every Halloween, but not the festivities. Life is candy. Good friends too.
While out trick-or-treating, I crashed one party just to catch up on a football score. They had the game up on their big screen, which you could see from the street. One of the hidden little payoffs of trick-or-treating with the kids is getting to look inside other people's homes.
So, in costume of course, I wander into these strangers' house, where about 10 of them are watching USC snooze to Oregon.
"So what's the score?" I ask.
"Octomom!" someone shouts.
"Where?" I ask, looking around.
Actually, I was the Octomom. It was the wife’s idea. She called me at work the previous day and announced she was buying a bunch of babies to pin to a dress.
Now, an Octomom costume is a good idea, assuming you are a woman to begin with. she insisted it was an even better idea were I to be the one to dress as Octomom, because men in drag seem to carry with them a certain reverse gravitas.
"Really, you should do it," I told her after thinking it over.
"No, you should do it," she insisted, and I detected in her voice a sense of revenge for all my failings of the past 30 years -- the times I forgot the dishes, or left globs of toothpaste in the sink. I am, relatively, not an awful husband at all, but that's only when measured against the other guys. As you know, that's setting the bar at a very modest height.
So I slipped on the dress she bought at Goodwill. Then I added a wig the color of old nickels. Hot.
Then I added the chest pieces -- a couple of balloons, modestly pumped. I've lived in L.A. long enough to know that if a woman wants to stand out in a crowd, she should wear small tasteful breasts, for everyone else has the other kind.
Dignity is a strange thing -- it comes and it goes. But the moment you put on a wig and falsies, you've pretty much given up every shred of anything approaching human dignity. At such a moment, nobility is a distant thought, like whitewall tires or $2 gas.
In fact, in drag a man becomes a different creature -- a mysterious confection. For the first time ever, I was the hottest woman in the room.
"Octomom!" people shouted, and suddenly I felt the tug of celebrity and unconditional love, all the things I dread in life.
"Oh, look, it's Octo . . . something!" I heard over and over.
I was astounded how quickly folks got the concept, for the only thing that separated me from every other Halloween floozy were the eight toy babies that Posh had pinned to my dress.
"Jon & Kate Plus 8?!!" guessed one person.
"Close enough," I said.

House to house we went, past other people's pumpkins, which seem to get more artful every year. My jack-o'-lanterns always look like self-portraits -- a little bloated, as if they had a six-pack with dinner. You could carve them with a corkscrew.
And as the night proceeded, the Octomom comments became more reckless. At one point, my balloons flipped around, nozzle side out, and it looked like I was chilled, in the womanly manner of '70s-era sitcom actresses.
"I just caught myself," one dad confessed, "looking down your blouse."
He wasn't really that ashamed either. The guy wrote it off as a male reflex. Me, I probably should've been more offended.
"Get him a drink, he's boring me!" one mom yelled.
"Yeah, get me a drink," I stammered.
Women are weird. First of all, you wouldn't believe how competitive some of them became. Sure, I was working it a little, but I've seen enough old Milton Berle skits to know that, while wearing the enemy's uniform, it's best to be unaffected and very deadpan.
Danielle, for one, saw me as an instant rival, though I have no interest in her husband, John, or any man in her life except maybe myself.
Second of all, the women became obsessed with my chest pieces, way more than the men. At one of the parties, they kept arranging the falsies in different ways. They pushed them together so I had cleavage. Let me just say this about cleavage: Even on a man, it looks good.
In the end, it was a worthy gag, and everyone had fun with it, particularly my wife, the only person I really need to please, after all. She giggled like a schoolgirl at almost everything. For a moment, I thought my outfit might add a whole new dimension to our torrid little relationship.
But Halloween is tiring -- heavy food, lots of walking. We both fell asleep about 10.

Great costume, don’t you think??  HAHAHA!!!  Why didn’t I think of that?

I always love to read this guy!!

 
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