The Shootist...

"There's a snake under the the grill!"

Sure as hell when the grill cover came off, there was a rattle snake fast asleep under the stainless steel grill on my buddy's patio. The rattler was startled and started flicking it's tongue, moving it's head to see what had awakened it.

"Hang on, I'll take care of the son of a bitch." my friend said.

He went in the house and came back with a 9mm Glock pistol, "This will fuck that snake up!"

"Hold on, you want to shoot the snake with a pistol? What if you miss? There's a propane tank in the grill, the patio is concrete and your neighbors house is 50 yards away, you could burn your house down or shoot your neighbor." As I said those words, he cocked the pistol.

"9 rounds and one in the snout. Should be enough to take care of that god damned rattle snake."

"When's the last time you shot that thing?"

"I went to the range last year."

"Have you fired it since?"

"No it's too powerful to shoot out here." He lives in a desert area north of Phoenix and he and his neighbors routinely shoot at rabbits in their backyards with .22 rifles.

"If it's too powerful to shoot out here, why the hell are you going to use it on that snake that is right next to your house underneath a fucking propane tank, are you crazy?"

He paused for a moment. The snake is tightly coiled and still flicking it's tongue. The rattler looks to be about 6 feet long and I'm guessing it would like nothing better than to get off the patio, fast. My friend goes back in the house, our wives are inside looking out the sliding glass door, they are terrified. My buddy comes back out with a pellet pistol, the kind that shoots the hard metal pellets.

"Okay you pussy, I'll use this." He stands about 30 feet away from the grill and takes a shot, the pellet hits the grill just to the right of the gas controls. He misses the snake by at least three feet. Of course he's one handing the pellet pistol, he takes another one handed shot. The pellet hits the grill door on the right hand side. It's the door that covers the propane tank. The pellet ricochets off the door and hits one of the patio chairs with a loud ping. Missed again. he takes another shot, hits the concrete in front of the snake, the pellet bounces up, hits the grill and disappears into the flowers alongside the patio. He's taken three shots and his hand is shaking. The snake is still coiled and now it's ready for anything.

"Give me that god damned thing." I took the pellet pistol from him. I haven't shot a pistol since I qualified Expert in the Army with a .45. The pellet pistol is light, too light really, it looks nasty though. I know a rattler can strike about 1 and a half times it's length. In this case that's 9 feet. I position myself about 15 feet from the snake, get down on one knee, put two hands on the pistol, take a deep breath, let it out and squeeze off a pellet. I hit the snake in the eye, It dropped and uncoiled under the grill. Dead. Frankly I felt like shit, it should have gone on to spend it's life eating mice and gophers for a living. Rattlers do have a purpose in nature.

"Good shooting!" My pal yells and pops a beer and hands it to me.

"Right and you ought to sell your fucking Glock before you shoot your wife some night."

We scooped the snake up with a shovel and dropped it the dry wash behind his house, we cooked dinner, drank too much wine and went to bed. I said to my wife, "I hope he learned something today."

He didn't, he called on New Years and I heard gunshots in the background, I asked him what was going on.

"The neighbors and I are just celebrating New Years."
'

I'm the guy behind...

Hi, I'm the guy behind you in the checkout line at WalMart. You don't know it but I have a gun under my shirt, it's a 9mm Glock with a SMG 17 round magazine, I have 2 more in the pocket of my camo pants and 5 others in my car out in the lot.

I also have an Armalite AR 15 in the trunk of my car, it's locked and loaded with a Magpul Pmag AK-74 5.45x39mm 30-Round Magazine. I have 10 other 30 round mags in the trunk too. Just in case anything happens here at WalMart you'll know that I should be able to take care of any trouble with my supply of 466 rounds of ammo

I recently had bump stocks installed on all my AR 15s. I have three more at home, one in the closet in the front hall, one next to my chair in front of the TV and one next to my bed, not to mention the Sig Sauer 9mm I have under my pillow, just in case. I also have an old Colt Python in the kitchen spice cabinet and a .357 Magnum long barrel in the junk drawer. A guy never knows when he just might need to get his hands on self protection, in this day age one just doesn't know.

You might be wondering why I walk with a limp, it's an easy explanation, I was cleaning my Glock one night while watching TV and darn it, it was loaded, lucky I always keep the barrel pointing down just like the NRA suggests. Lucky too that I live on the ground floor of my apartment complex. After I got out of the ER I had to stop and get a bag of Sakrete to repair the concrete floor. I found a nice throw rug to cover the hole, blood and powder burns in the carpet. I'm a resourceful guy.Pissed me off that I ruined a brand new pair of tactical boots too.

I bet you like movies, don't you? My latest favorite is "American Sniper" I'm pulling overtime shifts at the warehouse and driving Uber to save enough money to buy a Barrett 50 caliber with a scope, they sure are expensive, about 12k with the scope I want. And man that 50 caliber ammo is expensive! Worth every penny though, because you never know what's going to happen or when you'll need it do you?

You look like my kind of girl, if I wasn't so shy, I'd talk to you, but for now, it's just good enough that I'm just here ready to protect you. Hey, keep an eye on that Muslim looking couple over there. I don't trust them, not a bit.

Wait! What did you just say to me about standing too close to you? Did you say I'm breathing on you? You bitch, you're just like all the rest, you're lucky I don't....

Yelling at even More Clouds

It's raining here and I love it, Cakes loves it and Anze the Dog hates it, but...

I spent a couple of hours last week cleaning the gutters and drains getting ready for the predicted rainy weather, so I was set or so I thought

The roof has a new leak, it's easy to forget about your roof when you live in a place it only rains a few times a year. The leak sent me to the DIY Center to get a plastic tarp, so I was on the roof in twilight putting it down, getting wet while I did it. Apparently I wasn't the only person with a leak, the tarps were almost sold out. I also picked up some red bricks for  41 cents a piece to hold it down so the wind won't blow the plastic off. So far so good.

I was bright enough to put a load of firewood in the garage, dry wood is a good thing to have when your furnace conks out in cold and wet weather. On the other hand we have 2 zone heat and the system on the second floor works. That will be a comfort when the temp drops into the low 40's tonight. Once again, I'm not alone, the furnace guy is impossible to get a hold of today. He just called, he's tied up for a week.

I should have thought of "Executive Time" when I was running radio stations, close my office door and piss around for a couple of hours, But, since I'm not a "stable genius", I just ground it out 8-10-12 hours a day for years. Silly me.

If I see or read another profile of a "Trump Voter" I'm going to throw up...or see or read another pundit trying to rationalize irrational behavior. I've had it.

I'm 72, be 73 in 5 months and this is the first time in my life I'm:

1. Ashamed of my country

2. Ashamed of my fellow old, white guys. (some of you women as well)

Read an interesting article this morning written by the mother of a 20 something son, she was distressed that he, his wife and child we're immigrating to Norway. He told her, "Mom, I'll make better money, there are incredible schools, college tuition is covered, health care and day care covered, great roads, safe bridges and retirement is covered and all that will cost me roughly 20% more in taxes than I pay here. Do the math mom, it's a better deal and a better lifestyle."

Makes me wish I was in my 20's. I looked it up, the kid is right, everything is cheaper there, housing especially. Groceries are more, but you make it up by other savings.

I have a friend from broadcasting who works for Rueters in Switzerland, he's been offered much bigger jobs in the US, After 17 years in Geneva he won't move back to the USA.

One more thing...

From the Consumer Electronics Show in Vegas:

Toyota and Pizza Hut have have partnered up for for a driver-less pizza delivery system. The pizza will even be cooked in the car.

Look, if I have to put on my shoes and walk out to a god damned parked driver-less system to get my pizza from some shitty chain. My pizza wasn't delivered. They just don't want to pay a delivery person.

Let's Get Real about a few things

In the early 70's a guy I knew quite well, got 5 years for possessing pot. He was a highly decorated Marine Vietnam vet. It ruined his life. His cellmate was in for armed robbery. My friend was in for getting high.

I know a guy who has a PhD degree in agronomy, he's spent much of his career perfecting hybrid strains of marijuana. and he's also has worked on other cash crops, corn, wheat, sunflowers.

I know doctors, lawyers, accountants, account executives, stock brokers and responsible Americans (and Canadians) from every walk of life who smoke pot on a regular basis and have for years.

You know who the most screwed up driggies I know are? The people who take legal prescription drugs. Ever meet the nice lady from across the street who pops Valium all day? Wasted, toasted and dangerous when she drives to the shopping center. When she gets home she has a cocktail with her hubby on top of all those nice pills. You think her kids don't notice?

Two guys I grew up with drank themselves to death by their mid 30's, they didn't smash a car up, they just sat and drank and drank and drank. I've never heard of,or met anyone who killed themselves slowly by smoking pot.

29 states and the District of Columbia have legalized Medical marijuana, 8 states have legalized recreational pot, Alaska, California, Colorado, Maine, Massachusetts, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington as well as our nation’s capital – Washington D.C. And Vermont is next.You know who buys legal pot? Every demographic group from 21 on up.

And now the Feds are going to crack down on legal pot...what a waste of time and money.

Pot is not the problem. Opioids are a huge problem and they are legal. 

Another thing...

Do you think that if there was an outright ban, nationwide, on abortion, that there wouldn't be any abortion? If you were poor you'd head to a back alley abortionist if you were a rich woman, you'd fly off to somewhere you could get a nice, safe abortion in a clinic or hospitable. 

Do really believe if some little Susie Cream cheese white girl going to the University of Alabama got herself knocked up by a football player name LaShon Johnson, her mamma and daddy wouldn't ship her off to somewhere where where the little embarrassment could be quietly taken care of. If you don't think that would happen you are naive or just dumb as a post. 

Do you really think religious women don't use birth control?

Do you think that evangelical couples only have sex for procreation?

Time to wake up and grow up.




 

Let's Take a Peek Inside the Car Business

I took classes, live and on line, I went to seminars, had lengthy discussions with engineers, marketing people and sales consultants during my time in the automobile business. I consumed reviews, road tests, comparison tests and consumer reviews of cars. I worked at it. I even took classes on "phone techniques"!

Here's a few things I learned:

The number one complaint people have upon the delivery of their new car is so stupid, I couldn't, still can't, believe it.

                                                   THE WINDOWS WERE DIRTY!

Survey after survey of customers post delivery, all over the country, every make, every model, every brand the number one "piss me off" is dirty windows. It has been for years and nobody does anything about it. That is so easy to fix, it's mind boggling. You get a clean shop cloth, a bottle of window cleaner and clean the damn windows, all of them. Takes no more than 5 minutes.

Another complaint, "the tires didn't look shiny". How hard is to wipe the tires down with Armour All? Squirt each tire and wipe. About a minute a tire.

Another complaint, "my cell phone wasn't hooked up". This takes longer to do, but it isn't brain surgery. Walk the customer through the process, make sure their phone works and they have a grasp on the process and remind them the owners manual and the accompanying DVD has all the information in an easily understandable, step by step form. Mark the page with the instructions with a paper clip or post it note.

Another complaint, "the sales person wasn't knowledgeable about the car". Once again, there's a lot of down time in any job, the car business has more than most. Most of my associates in the sales department, shot the shit with each other all day long, they stood around, playing grab ass, talking about sports, sex and staring at heir phones and then they'd share some stupid video with the other guys. You know what would happen?They'd get an "up" bump into the wall when they couldn't answer a question about something and they'd come and get me or the one other sales guy who knew "stuff" about a truck or a car they were attempting to sell. It happened every day! The result? I'd get half of the deal, one month I had 9 half deals, because I knew "stuff".

When I decided to sell cars out of a combination of utter boredom, depression and the desire to help my wife with her start-up agency business, I talked at length with my retired car dealer friend Ralph Thomas. Ralph told me the biggest problem with the car business is the management. He was right. If you look at the top four customer complaints all are an easy fix, by management. Maybe they are too easy, so easy that nobody pays any attention

Another thing.

Part of the pay plan for sales people, managers and the dealership is based on something called CSI or Customer Satisfaction Index, it's a sliding scale with 10 being an A. The problem is a 9 is an F. It's an ongoing survey that tells the manufacturer, the dealer, the management and the sales person nothing about their performance, useless. You know who loses the most from bad CSI? The sales person. Bad CSI slashes not only the pay per unit, it knocks back or eliminates bonus money.

I had perfect CSI, why? Because I tried.

I was taken aside one day and told by an idiot sales manager, "You know you've got a problem." I asked him what it was? His reply, "You know too damn much about these cars!" This was the same guy who when I asked how he evaluated used cars, he told me, "You don't need to know any of that.",  Over time I learned how he did it. He quickly looked over the car, then went on line to the Kelly Blue Book regional auction price site, put in the car's parameters  and offered the lowest price to the customer. Used car expert, right?

I could go on but it makes my head hurt too much...

Christmas at a Car Store

in the 50’s when I was a little kid, my Dad was the General Sales Manager of a Lincoln Mercury dealership, my Mom dropped me off at the dealership after hockey practice so she could wrap up her Christmas shopping. 



I wandered around in the shop for awhile, sat at the old man’s desk upstairs, got bored and climbed in the front seat of a red Lincoln Capri convertible next to the big Christmas tree in the showroom. I was tired from school and hockey and laid down on the front seat, 


I was dozing off when I heard a woman say, “Does this little boy come with the car?” One of dad’s salesman answered, “He’s the Boss’s son, I’m pretty sure I can get him to throw the kid in the deal.”

Merry Christmas

Whitey Whiskers Kills Christmas

I only had one cat when I was a kid. My farm Grandmother Clara picked out a kitten for me when I was 4, it was my birthday present. He was a barn cat. When the kitten was weaned, she sand box trained him and handed him over. He was perfectly white and I named him Whitey Whiskers, I loved him, Mom hated him.

Whitey followed me around, Whitey slept with me.Damn I loved that cat!

On Christmas Eve, we came home to our little GI Bill house, full of family Christmas Cheer. I'm hauling in my presents. I got a lot, I was the only grand kid on both sides. Mom unlocked the door, went in. Dad and I heard a scream.

Whitey had climbed the Christmas tree, he had pulled it over, lights and bulbs smashed, water from the stand all over the floor. Mom was over the moon pissed. Dad and I exchanged uncomfortable looks, then he started to laugh and so did I, our behavior cranked Mom to 11.

"That's it the damn cat is going." Mom was in tears, Dad and I were laughing. "I've never liked cats, I hate cats, always have."

Whitey was smart, he was no where to be seen. Mom turned on me, "Do you think Santa Claus is going to come tonight? Your cat destroyed our tree and Santa doesn't have anyplace to leave your presents!" That knocked the buzz off my Christmas.

Dad and I cleaned up, Mom went to bed, she slammed the bedroom door too. Once the tree was back up, it didn't look too bad. Dad poured himself a drink, I had milk and Grandma's Christmas cookies. and Whitey stuck his head out from behind the sofa, ran over and jumped on my lap, I let him lap some of my milk.

We finally went to bed. It took Dad a while to get in the bedroom, Whitey slept on my pillow as usual.Santa did show up and things seemed fine.

Whitey went back to the farm on Christmas Day. he moved into the barn and became a top flight mouser. He was still my cat, every time I was at the farm Whitey would climb all over me. He lived a good life for a long time, probably sired 50 litters over his lifetime. He was happy doing what he was born to do.

Never had another cat, but I did get a Cocker Spaniel that spring, plenty of Dusty the Dog stories are in the memory bank. Mom liked dogs a lot more than she liked cats, that was a relief.

Merry Christmas.