Aunty (anti) FOX

with the new Stephen King book, "Duma Key", which Ted loaned me, when, within a few pages, I got a big smile, then broke out in a laugh. First, Edgar Freemantle was saying how he had been doing some reading, including non-fiction books about how we got into the Iraq debacle. It had to do with a fellow with 'W' for a middle initial and a dick for a vice president. I smiled. Then, he was talking about a crotchety old lady who said, "Rita, get me a towel. I think that last fart had a lump in it." Sorry, low humor, but it made me laugh...

for those of you who who just don't get it. The gov't tracks education and income for each state. The top states for education are also the top states for income. No surprise there. Guess what? The top ten education/income states are ALL blue states. Think Massachusettes, Washington, etc. The kind of places where people choose to live because of the quality of life. The bottom ten education/income states are ALL red states. Think Mississippi, Alabama, etc,,where people live because they can't afford to leave. Surprised? NOT ME. SOO, is this a statistical anomaly? What are the odds? Less than miniscule, BUT, does the Bush constituency understand statistics or the word miniscule or anomaly? I doubt it. Bottom line, gullible, uneducated people are the 'base' for Bush. If you are that gullible, as to believe the crap this administration spews, then you are a used car saleman's 'dream come true'. Statistics don't lie, although Bush does. Can't argue w...

ever doing a such complete turnaround, as to completely hating someone, as I did Scott McClellan, who day after day, stood up there, LYING about Bush policy. NOW, he admits, he was duped. 180 degree turnaround. Bush insider, admitting he was used, by the Bushies, to spread lies. Will it change the minds of the Bush disciples? NO. BUT, for thinking people, who have a brain, and who are not afraid to use it, it is HUGE. The ultimate insider, finally telling the truth. HUGE!!!

while mining the dark recesses of my brain, for blog material, I sometimes come across stuff I'm not too proud of, but IS kinda funny. Such an incident involved the remains of a badger, unfortunate road-kill, found while we were hunting, but fresh enough for Zerbe to decide he wanted to make a hat out of the (lovely) fur. After we skinned it, we were left with the gnarliest lookin' carcass you could ever imagine, with sharp claws and teeth. Too cool to just throw away, SOOO, on this cold winter night, we took it to the ass't B-ball coach's car, and tossed it onto his dash, wedged against the windshield, so it was smilin' at him, over the steering wheel. The next morning, there it was, in the faculty parking lot, still smilin'. Seems it was wet enough, and the night cold enough, that it froze in place and he couldn't remove it in time to get to school. OR, he just didn't notice it. Like I said, not proud of it, but it WAS funny...

theme, of 'close calls', it makes more sense if you start on May 21. Readers? Ha, what am I thinking?

another one, as I remembered looking up at the sun shining on the surface of water, (can still plainly see it, in my mind's eye), with a feeling of helplessness, and realized I have had that view before, with the same feeling, (You're gonna die!) "Twas a beautiful summer afternoon, and I was bass fishing at one the local sandpits, when I decided to try a new technique. I put a floating frog lure on, cast it out, and left to do something else for awhile. When I came back, the lure was nowhere in sight, but, as I reeled in the slack line, I could see, in the clear water, a huge largemouth, snagged on an underwater tree limb, in about twelve feet of water. After a couple of false starts, I was able to kick down deep enough, where my plan was to pull the lure from the snag, and hopefully retrieve the fish. What I WASN'T planning on, was the fish going crazy, and impaling my hand on the exposed treble hook. Again, I remember looking up at the sunlight dappling the sur...

to actually 'not making it', probably came when, as a kid of about 12, I was bowfishing for carp at a local sandpit. This was an actual working pit, beside the Platte River, where they would suck sand out, into large piles, and leave a 'sandpit', filled with water. Anyway, I was at the business end of an old pit, and was walking along the newly formed shoreline, with a 'cliff' of sand behind me, when, all of sudden, a section broke off, and started to slide into the water, taking me, buried in sand to my waist, with it. Was like slow motion, but there was nothing I could do, as I was slowly, but surely, carried under the water, entombed in sand up to my waist. After what seemed an eternity, I was able to kick my legs free, and fight my way to the surface. I was lucky. My classmate, Mike Stumf, died at the same pit, in the same circumstance. An attractive nuisance, it would be called today...

Just remembered, that as youngsters, we had (real) bows and arrows from a very early age. When we'd tire of target practice, and terrorizing the local birds and frogs, we'd go to a nearby open field, and shoot the arrows straight up, marvelling at high they would go. Occasionally, we would lose sight of an arrow and kinda freak out. I would then stand staight up, making myself the smallest possible target, My friend Randy Britton, however, emulating war movies, I guess, would throw himself flat on the ground. I remember it took quite awhile to convince him of the error of his ways. Luckily, none of us got hit, but sometimes it was pretty close.

but I remember it made me laugh, when I was pheasant hunting with three of my high school buddies. Kirk Melson was driving his old Chevy and as we drove past a farmhouse, a big dog ran out and started barking at the car. "Watch this", he said, and he opened the driver's side door as he hit the brakes, expecting the dog to crumple as it hit the door, as had happened when his buddy did it. This time, however, as the car stopped, the door kept going, breaking the hinges, and slamming into the front fender, as the dog started biting his leg. Will never forget him trying to shake off the growling dog, as he accelerated away, with no door to close. 'Twas the same day Ron Blessing wore a goofy hat, with ear flaps, and Scott Nelson came up with a plan for it. At a prearranged signal, Scott grabbed the hat from Ron's head, threw it in the air, and we all emptied our shotgus on it. Can still see that hat dancing in the air, as it was blown into many little pieces. Teach hi...

In his memoir entitled "What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington's Culture of Deception," former White House spokesman, Scott McClellan, writes that the Bush White House made "a decision to turn away from candor and honesty when those qualities were most needed" In other words, he LIED. SURPRISE! Who woulda guessed? Nothing new here, just in who is admitting it. The ultimate insider, and mouthpiece for a lying administration. Manipulation of facts, denial of sources that didn't agree. Secret meetings to discuss how to cover up and disguise the truth. Calling the Iraq War, unnecessary and disastrous. WOW! However, I'm sure nothing that Rush and O'Reilly can't explain away to their legions of ignorant idiots, by calling him, let me guess, a disgruntled former employee, trying to sell a book. Then they'll cherry pick the facts, finding some they like, while dismissing what they don't. Sorta like the Bushies and the Iraq wa...

our present situation, with home prices falling, credit closing, food and gas prices spiralling upward, as the once proud and respected United States, becomes a second class power, we gotta thank George F Bush, and his 8 years in power, as he, and his Big-oil and military buddies, have hijacked a once-great country. And, if you can't/won't see it, you just aren't paying attention...

that might be worthy, cause it sure seemed like a close call at the time. Carol and I were somewhere in Mexico, at an all-inclusive resort, this time with Jack and Tony, (remembered this from the pics on my desk), and we (not Carol) decided to go fishing. Some employee at the resort said he had an amigo that would give us a special deal, SOO, next morning at sunrise we were at the beach as a small fishing boat, with a 50 horse outboard, picked us up. The sea was rough that day, (have the pics to prove it) and most fishing boats didn't even go out, but WE did. Bottom line, the fishing was fantastic, and within a few hours, we were literally too tired to pull in any more dorados, or mahi-mahi. They were huge, and Tony, who does alot of ocean fishing said they were the biggest he had ever seen. Just happened to get into an amazing school. Anyway, came time to go in, and the 2 man Mexican crew acted like they didn't speak any English. Against our protests, they took us seve...

to my 'close calls', but were close. The time Reynaldo rescued me, when I took out a sailboat, before I really knew how to sail, and I was headed to Cuba, cause I didn't know how to turn it around. He and his Sea-doo were a lifesaver as I watched the shoreline disappear in the distance. The times I slid down steep roofs, finally to catch my toes on the gutter, when I was doing insurance work. The time Scott, Buggs and I were building a house, and after we had pre-fabbed a LARGE truss, made out of 2x12x20 footers, we stood it up and I walked off to the side to see how it looked while Buggs held it, or SHOULD have. As I turned around, it hit me on top of the head when it fell, knocking me out. I came to, to the howls of Buggs, laughing his ass off. Thanks, Buggs.. The time a mentally deranged guy rode up on Dick Abood and me, while we were sneaking up on ducks on a rural farm pond, and said, as he pointed a 30-30 at us, "Drop your guns and come with me", and he marc...

totally different, to show my warm and fuzzy side, and someone else's close call. When we lived on Victoria Ct, near Waneka Lake, there was a Mallard duck mother, walking her string of ducklings, in a single file, from the pond where they were born, to the much bigger lake. We were watching them waddle down the cul de sac when the neighbors' dog rushed at them. He didn't get any, but scattered them, far and wide. We later found 3 babies, who had been separated, and Kari decided to raise them. Baby ducks are cute, but very messy. (They poop alot). One day, they were in the bathtub when I walked in and saw one of them floating, not moving, with it's head laying in the water. I immediately started mouth to beak respiration, and blew it up like a balloon, (literally), then squeezed the air back out, and repeated the move for awhile. Surprise! The duck came back to life, and was fine after that. Figured it was the least I could do, considering all the mallard dinn...

and crashes, I can recall playing golf, with a full cast on my right leg, broken in a softball game. Had finished the round, and was returning the cart, at Lake Valley GC, when I somehow managed to wedge my cast, between the seat and gas pedal, as I was headed downhill, beside the clubhouse. Would have been fine, if there wasn't a sharp turn at the bottom. 'Tis hard to turn a golf cart 90 degrees when you are going full speed, but I tried, and I rolled it. Got a few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious. Caught alot of crap from my buddies. How many people you know that have rolled a golf cart? I have....

Was working at Winding River, a dude ranch, on the source of the Colorado River, above Grand Lake, right near Trail Ridge Road, when I decided to go check on my guys, who were working on a bridge repair on the other side of the property. The horses were all saddled up for the 'touristas' trail ride, and I asked if I could borrow one. Sure, the wrangler said, 'Help yourself'. As we galloped down the gravel trail, I realized the saddle was slipping to the side. Seems the experienced trail-ride horses would inhale, when being saddled, so they were more comfortable, without the cinch being too tight. Anyway, it seemed like slow-motion, as I stayed in the saddle as long as I could, but fell off, going full speed, when I was nearly upside down. Got several bumps and bruises, broke my left wrist and right thumb, and got two casts, put on by an inexperienced paramedic. MUCH too tight, considering the swelling. Woke up in the middle of the night with throbbing pain. By ...

with nothing better to do, I will add a couple of motorcycle stories to my 'close calls'. Within 10 minutes of buying my 650 BSA Lightning, ( A real classic), I was headed home on 6th Ave, in west Denver, when a woman pulled out of a filling staion directly in my path. She looked up, freaked out, and stopped, blocking both lanes. If I had been a better rider, I probably could have reacted better, but I wasn't, so I locked it up and slid under the rear part of her car. She stuck her heaad out of the car, saw me pinned there, and gunned it. I was dragged a few feet before I broke free and saw her speed away. Probably a good thing, looking back, as it made me VERY cautious as I drove in traffic in the future. However, my closest call, on a bike, didn't take place in traffic. Harry Long and I were returning from fishing a high country lake, early in the year, on our dirt bikes, and decided to follow the snowmelt, which had turned the trail into a stream. At first it...

After we lost all our booze at the border, (they took it ALL, as punishment), we arrived in Flin Flon on Sunday, when the liquor stores were closed. We gave a list, with our requests, to Rick, the outfitter, who said he'd try to drop off the order when he flew another group into a different lake, the next day. Sure enough, Dog and I were trolling, near the cabin, when we saw Rick's plane land near our dock and quickly take off. Sure enough, there was a box with everything we asked for. We decided to play a trick on the other guys, and hid the box in the boat shed, and left a note, with a partial bottle, that said. "Sorry, couldn't make it to the liquor store, but here's my bottle I carry for emergencies." Will never forget the look on Matt's face as he held the partial bottle and thought of the next several evenings of card games, with only water to quench his thirst. P.S.-- Found out a couple years ago, he still carries that note from 'the pilo...

As I said, Kenny had brought his buddy, wife and young boys up, a couple weeks before we got there. 'Twas the trip from Hell, for them. After being held at the border for 2 days while they waited for the boys' birth certificates (no idea why they were required) they continued north, hauling their small boat to fish, along the way, until they lost a wheel and wrecked it. When they finally flew in, it started to rain, and kept raining, the whole time. Along with the bear trouble, they also had a hard time catching fish, and they had planned to eat a LOT of fish, so hadn't brought enough food. The day they were supposed to fly out, the rain held off until they had everything out on the dock,waiting for the plane that didn't show up, then they, and their bedding and clothes, got thoroughly drenched. As he later told me of the fiasco, including many details I don't have room for, I said something like, "Well at least no one died'" Not totally true, h...

For about 15 years in a row, a 'gang of 6', (a couple of times 5), would load up my RV, and we'd make the 26 hour drive to Flin Flon, Manitoba, where we'd board a float plane and fly into the island cabin on Wildnest Lake, where we'd live on walleye, fried potatoes, Bush's beans, and beer for 4 days, playing LOTS of poker along the way. I'm afraid I introduced my son to a few bad habits along the way, but he seemed to enjoy himself. Every year we'd hit the border at about 2 in the morning, and most of the time Broomhilda, as we called her, thoroughly bored in her graveyard shift, would liven up her evening by messing with us. Beer is very expensive in Canada, so we'd try to save some $ by smuggling in more than the one case apiece that was allowed. Sometimes we'd make it, sometimes not. I remember one night, as she was going thru our coolers on the roof, she yelled. "Oh my God, there's beer EVERYWHERE!" Became a catch phrase for awh...