“A most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality.” – Shakespeare

My insult game is a work in progress. I’m trying to up my game.

I spend some time on social media, and you see certain conversations that break down into some pretty cliche insults.

Not a lot of creativity there.

But William Shakespeare. That guy knew how to insult people. “May

I read a quote from a pop-culture figure and my response was that he had all of the intellectual prowess of a lobotomized kumquat.

I like kumquats.

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I was always a fan of the more creative jibes, though. “May the Bird of Paradise fly up your nose!”

“May the Bird of Paradise fly up your nose!”

“May your left armpit become infested with the fleas of a thousand camels”

I’m rounding out one involving infected ingrown hairs, unreachable places, and inappropriate locales. It’s not quite ready for it’s debut quite yet. Might never be… it’s gotta have that rhythm to it, that roll right off the tongue quality.

If you’re in an insult slump, you could start here.  It’s a random generator that pulls up Shakespearean insults.
There’s also a more generic random generator that you could use as a foundation for better insults. And smile when you say that.

Peace, y’all.

I’m smellin’ pretty smokey right now.

As anyone with a reasonable knowledge of search engines can ascertain, I am a resident of Lawrence, Kansas. Part of the midwestern culture is the smoking of meats. I’ve embraced that aspect of our culture, and I like to apply a rub to a piece of meat, and smoke that sucker until the core temperature ensures the safety of the product.

Today I took an entire pork loin, cut it into three equally sized pieces, and put them in little bread tins. With oe, I added some sweet, southern marinade and some mandarin oranges to apply a citrus note to the recipe. I think citrus is a very nice flavor to pork, kind of like that pineapple and Canadian bacon flavor people (outside of Iceland) like on their pizza.

The other two chunks of pork loin I rubbed down with a standard commercial rub, then dropped into the bread tins.

There’s beef on the smoker today, as well. I took an entire brisket, cut it down into a flat and the point, then applied a comprehensive rub. Wrapped up those two hefty chunks in foil.

I use Kingsford charcoal as a starter, then add in either pecan or hickory as my chunk hardwood. Let it sit until the center temp reaches 165 – 175 degrees Fahrenheit.
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My family is very pleased with me tonight. And they are full as well.

Nothing else really to go over and add tonight.

Hope y’all have a nice week.

Peace, y’all.

For one reason or another, I’m kind of phoning it in tonight, but I’m trying to live up to the pledge I made.

If I don’t stick to it and make it a good habit, I’m letting myself down. I know that the first time I skip, it will just make it easier and easier to skip, and next thing you know I’ve screwed it up.

I’m not ready to give it up quite yet.

I’m not tremendously motivated tonight. I’m a wee bit pissed off at some of that cosmic bird flipping that has been directed at me for one reason or another.

Maybe I need to polish my karma up a little bit.

I decided to drive a little bit after my daughter’s scholarship group recognition dinner. First thing, I get pinged and sent twenty minutes outside of town for a pickup. Went to an inconclusive address, no rider, and next thing you know, I get the popup letting me know that the ride has been canceled.

Oh, man.
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Twenty minutes out. ten minutes looking around for a rider. A grumpy twenty minute ride back.

I’m pretty much over it, but it did hack me off at the time.

Oh well. It’s over and done with.  Get over it, Bob.

Time to get some shuteye.

Peace, y’all.

Again, Dangerous Visions.

I almost screwed up, but fortunately, I found myself thinking about my day, and my habit came bubbling to the top. I’ve made a commitment to write 200 words per day, and here I am.

I’m actually feeling pretty positive at the moment (except for the cut in my right index finger… this hurts and it kind of sucks after two days).

The fact that I remembered to write my 200 words, and that I made the choice to persist in my support and pledge to the #WriteChain gives me pause… I reacted to that little piece of awareness in a positive way and went straight for my notebook to write my words and post my daily update.

The fact that I’m constantly looking at the bottom of the page to monitor my word count is probably a negative.

Some days the words flow better than other days. No one is going to argue that point, especially a wannabe writer.

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Today has been a rather interesting day, I must admit.

It is amazing how many people will try to fit into an automobile when they are trying to save a little money on Uber, right?

Hey, at least they were getting a ride. I’d hate to see any of these young people get hurt by making a bad driving choice.

So, I’m there. And what I’ve written is about as eloquent as romantic prose from a lobotomized kumquat.

Peace, y’all

According to the ol’ calendar on the wall, today is April 20th.

In certain parts of the United States, that means today is 4/20.

The origins of the term 420 and its association with cannabis advocates is easily researched, and here’s a bit from about that:

“In 1971, Steve Capper, Dave Reddix, Jeffrey Noel, Larry Schwartz, and Mark Gravich five high school students^[2] in San Rafael, California,^[3][4] calling themselves the Waldos^[5][6] because “their chosen hang-out spot was a wall outside the school”,^[7] used the term in connection with a fall 1971 plan to search for an abandoned cannabis crop that they had learned about,^[5][8] based on a treasure map made by the grower.^[9] The Waldos designated the Louis Pasteur statue on the grounds of San Rafael High School as their meeting place, and 4:20 p.m. as their meeting time.^[7] The Waldos referred to this plan with the phrase “4:20 Louis”. Several failed attempts to find the crop eventually shortened their phrase to simply “4:20”, which ultimately evolved into a codeword that the teens used to mean marijuana-smoking in general.^[8]

So, where do I stand?

I’m not a proponent of its use for recreational purposes, just like I’m not going to tell somebody to go out and throw back a few drinks and get behind the wheel of a car. I am, however, fine with the idea of medical marijuana for a couple of reasons. First of all, there are people out there that are hurting due to one malady or another, and there seems to be mounting evidence that some properties of marijuana can help some people that are dealing with epilepsy, Parkinson’s Disease, arthritis, glaucoma, and other health issues, not to mention my brothers and sisters fighting the fight against cancer, and are suffering some negative side effects from chemotherapy and radiation treatments.

The other health issue that floats to the top is that of our veterans that are suffering from PTSD. Hey, if the consumption of marijuana helps folks out and takes the edge off to a point where they can deal with the world a little easier, then why not?

Yeah, people smoke it, and it damages lung tissue and has some other negative effects on the human body. So does alcohol, and that is legal.
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I think there are a lot of people in jail due to marijuana and marijuana-related convictions. My take on that is pretty straight forward – I would rather live next to a pot smoker, than live next to a family left broken by the arrest of a pot smoker.

And don’t even get me started on hemp and all of the positive things that can come from that little plant.

That is a rant for another day.

For all those planning on firing up at 4:20 this afternoon, please stay safe, and have a designated driver get you to your destination. I might even be hanging out my Uber shingle about that time to get folks delivered and poured onto their front porch.

(No “tips” today, please!)

Peace, y’all.

Oh, man. I almost missed another day.

So, earlier today I wrote a long diatribe about the word “jingoism”. Its roots, and the nationalistic tendencies associated with it.

And then my internet connection at work started acting up.

I now have a much greater appreciation for the “save draft” button on my dashboard.

I ha a nice stream of thought going. I had links to the meaning of the word jingoism on Wikipedia, I had references to the origins of the word.

And pfft, all gone.

I get that I’m allowed to be a little frustrated. Hell, anybody would be.

So you walk off the next ten steps and you gather yourself, and you write again.
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I have a few ideas for tomorrow. Some of it is the typical P.T. Barnum stuff having to do with the current federal administration. Some of it has to do with the gullible nature of some folks here in the midwest that will go for a lie, hook, line, and sinker, if the lie is coming from someone that they find believable.

The other thing I’m thinking about writing about is the idea of a “world view”. What does your world look like? When you speculate about the nature of our existence, do you consider the P.O.V. (Point of View) of people of a different culture? I think that is something a number of Americans don’t ponder.

Many of them actively avoid thinking about it.

What do people in Singapore or Luxembourg think about the USA?

Maybe that’s something we should all consider a little bit more.

Peace, y’all.

This week I am back in the classroom teaching one of my old standby courses, Microsoft Exchange. It’s kind of crazy how this product has evolved since I first started working with the release candidate for Exchange 4.0 back in 1996.

Back in those days, industry professionals pursued their MCSE – Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer certification by taking and passing exams, and we all had to focus on the Workstation and Server products for Windows NT 3.50-3.51, and then we had to have a couple of electives on top of that (I also earned certifications on Microsoft Excel, the spreadsheet productivity product, and Windows for Workgroups, one of the single most excruciating experiences of my life). I chose my electives based on demand and interest, and a lot of people were ignoring Microsoft Mail 3.2 at that point, so I jumped on board that ride… and let me tell you, Microsoft Mail 3.2 was not the easiest river to negotiate.

When Exchange appeared on the scene, I jumped at the opportunity, attending a t-prep (teacher preparation) course at Empower in Kansas City. I was rather excited about the product and where it might take me… in this case, it took me to Room 215 at Centriq Training in Leawood, Kansas.

I’ve made a number of bad decisions in my life, but pursuing a career as a Microsoft Certified Trainer focusing on Unified Communications might be the second best decision I ever made, the first being the decision to marry my partner in life.
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Lab time is about over, time to get ready for module 5…

Peace, y’all.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life

– These Dreams, Heart

I am facsinated by my dreams. I sometimes wonder about the source of such wondrous imaginings.

I’m aware that physicists speculate that there might be an infinite number of parallel universes. If that is the case, then there might be an infinite number of “me” in these parallel dimensions. If there is an infinite number, that means that every possible reality has happened to me in a parallel universe. In one dimension, I have been elected President, and in another, I have won the lottery… and in yet another reality, I have been falsely accused and await execution on death row.

Pretty scary when you think about all of the possibilities.

Last night I had a good, weird dream. It started off on an airplane, and I thought there was an explosion, but the plane stopped, and people slowly levitated and disappeared through the top of the plane in a controlled ascent. I started to as well, but as my arms above me passed through the top of the cabin, whatever it was that I was holding in my hand disappeared, and I returned to my seated position.
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That part of the dream stopped at that point, and I arrived… in Singapore. For some reason, I was booked into a suite at a very fancy hotel, 53rd floor, and the room was ten thousand dollars per night… but apparently, I had some sort of coupon or promotion that garnered me three nights for the price of two. A woman, professionally dressed, approached me about having a drink with her and discussing some industry matter. I deferred. As I left the check in counter, they handed me a bottle of very expensive Japanese whiskey.

That’s about all I recall, but I do look forward to my next dream. Some are absolutely more lucid than the others, and I think my heart medication has “interesting dreams” as a known side effect.

I think that’s pretty cool.

I should research what foods have an effect on dreams, and make sure I plan my evening snacks accordingly.

Peace, y’all.

I am a lucky, blessed man. Any number of my friends and professional acquaintances would likely be jealous of me for a simple reason. My dad is still around, 76 years old, and he’s my hero.

He’s not without his flaws, and he’d be the first to admit to that, which is one of the reasons I respect and love the man. When I was young, I watched him. I remember him leaving for work in the morning, methodically facing the day as a service manager for an International Harvester, later Navistar, franchise in Salina, Kansas. It was a noisy place, with big, over-the-road tractor-trailer rigs getting necessary repairs, with pneumatic tools screaming, inflicting permanent damage on the eardrums of the mechanics, and my dad, who now wears two hearing aids that help some… but the damage is permanent.

He walked the heavy concrete floors, and lifted boxes unaided, and it inflicted a toll on his back, and his frame, once 6’3″ and over 200 lbs. of lean muscle, is betraying him, and his mobility has been limited. There was a time that I loved to watch him water ski behind the family boat, and he and his good friend Bill would try and pull off some crazy stunt that was likely the product of one too many Budweiser beers.

He taught me the most important lessons of my life, and I wish I had taken them all to heart when I was younger. Those lessons would have steered me clear of many mistakes in my youth if I had only taken his lessons to heart.

One lesson I am most grateful for… he taught me to watch out for the thieves and con men that smile a little too much. He taught me to be wary of the smooth talking rogue that overpromised and underdelivered. He taught me to never trust those that are quick to blame others and never take responsibility for their own mistakes.

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I hope I have a chance to learn more from my dad in this life. I wish even more could learn the important lessons he has taught me.

Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Peace, y’all.

I am envious of beautiful lawns.

Some folks have those lush, spectacular lawns that look like deep, dark green shag carpeting.

The kind of lawn that screams, “Hey… come over… take your shoes off… let me reach deep between your toes and massage that toe gap… yeah, baby… you know you want to monkey foot the fescue…”.

Grass is kind of weird like that.

I’ve tried the weed and feed, I’ve tried overseeding. I’ve applied bag after bag of soil on the top of the clay, then overseeding that.

I guess part of my issue is that I rather hate applying chemicals to my lawn. To be frank, it’s not just broadleaf herbicides, it’s also insecticides as well. I would love to have that rich green carpet, but I guess I’m just a little too environmentally paranoid to dive right into the artificial additives that make that happen.

I should probably spend a little more time researching about the natural ways I resolve my lawn issues. I suppose in the meantime, the best thing I can do is keep seeding, watering, and feeding the lawn as best I know how, and, when necessary, pull out that big long weeding tool and eradicate a dandelion or four.

I’ll keep at it. I probably ought to ask myself what Peter Seller’s character from “Being There” would do.

From “Being There”…

President “Bobby”: Mr. Gardner, do you agree with Ben, or do you think that we can stimulate growth through temporary incentives?

[Long pause]

Chance the Gardener: As long as the roots are not severed, all is well. And all will be well in the garden.
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President “Bobby”: In the garden.

Chance the Gardener: Yes. In the garden, growth has it seasons. First comes spring and summer, but then we have fall and winter. And then we get spring and summer again.

President “Bobby”: Spring and summer.

Chance the Gardener: Yes.

President “Bobby”: Then fall and winter.

Chance the Gardener: Yes.

Benjamin Rand: I think what our insightful young friend is saying is that we welcome the inevitable seasons of nature, but we’re upset by the seasons of our economy.

Chance the Gardener: Yes! There will be growth in the spring!

Taken from: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078841/quotes

Peace, y’all.