I don’t get it

July 25, 2017

In the corner of my mind where empty boxes gather dust an idea
started and began to grow. As I lay down to have a nap this idea
took over and while the body was tired the brain was on high
alert. It got to the point I had to get up, make more coffee,
and try to reason things out.

The whole fiasco started yesterday after my brother stopped by
to show me his new Harley. When he was gone I cruised the
information highway and paused at a story about a 71 year old
man who died when he rolled his street rod. The short article
planted a seed and the comments heaped on the manure to help
it mature.

Back when I first started cruising the information highway
condolences to the family would out number comments of any
other kind. And there were a few of these, yet what surprised
me is the majority of comments were split between ‘it can be
fixed’ and ‘why wasn’t he wearing a seat belt?’

Has compassion and common courtesy died along with common
sense? This man was probably someones husband, father, grand
father, and brother yet the comments question his desire not
to have seat belts in his 40′ Ford.

The accident happened on a city street on a Sunday morning. I
noticed no comments about the possibility that he had a medical
issue that caused the wreck either.

If this is what our society has become, count me out. In the
first place all the safety equipment in the world won’t help
you if it’s your time to go. I would imagine his relatives
haven’t given much thought to the car. If he didn’t want seat
belts, it was his choice.

I guess this old redneck outlaw just doesn’t get it.

Enjoy our tuesday, it’s the last one we’ll get this month.
Comments are always welcome.


Looking back

July 23, 2017

Since it’s Sunday lets take a stroll down memory lane to a time
when things were simpler and morals were etched in stone. When
we were just wee little ones the family would always take a
Sunday drive after church.

The old 48′ Chevy would kick up dust on the gravel roads while
the folks talked with myself sitting on my mother’s lap. Oh my
God! Today they would be in prison. No seat belts, to child’s
seat, no air conditioning. That’s child abuse.

If you remember these rides you remember being dressed in your
Sunday finest, even as a toddler. These outfits even included a
hat and in the summer heat with all the dust could become quite
uncomfortable. So I’m told I’d take mine off and somehow manage
to toss it out the window.

Dad would stop the car, back up, and get out to find the hat
as Mom would scold me for losing the hat. After a few episodes
of this the hat was removed when I got in the car so I couldn’t
throw it out.

Then one Sunday I was put in a hammock that stretched from
window to window over the back seat and gently swayed as Dad
navigated the bumpy gravel roads. I would not recommend trying
that today. When the ride was over our treat was home made ice
cream after washing our face and hands at the well pump. And
everyone would drink out of the same tin cup that hung on the
pump!

Back at the farmhouse we’d change back into our work clothes
and gather in the parlor. Entertainment was an upright piano
if anyone there at the time knew how to play. If not it was
stories or Canasta until supper. And back then we ate supper as
a family. A good excuse was needed to miss supper and an even
better one to skip church.

After supper someone had to do the dishes and since the old
farmhouse didn’t have running water that meant another trip to
the well. Some water was then heated on the stove and poured
into a galvanized tub. When the last dish was dried the chore
wasn’t finished until to pan full of dirty soapy water was taken
outside, emptied, and rinsed off at the well and brought back
in.

There was no internet and the crank telephone was a party line.
No air conditioning meant looking for shade until things cooled
off after sunset. It was a different time that some would say
was a hard life. But we survived. And when we reflect upon these
times it brings a smile to our face.

Enjoy our Sunday as tomorrow some go back to work.
Comments are always welcome.


Ramblings of a confused oldfart

July 22, 2017

Yesterday for supper I grilled ribs to have with fresh corn on
the cob and potato salad. While at the store the idea of having
ribs for dinner sounded great yet when the time came I realized
the heat index was hovering around 110 degrees.

Everything turned out great and I would have gotten pictures
of the ribs and corn but was drooling so bad I couldn’t. It’s
hard to concentrate with drool running down the front of your
t-shirt.

Later the severe weather warnings started popping up on the
TV every few minutes and it made it hard to watch reruns of
Andy Griffith. We got hit with thunderstorms twice, the latest
is still going on. And that got me thinking…

How is it all these TV stations can claim they report the news
when most of time they’re shipping the bull, commenting on some
celebrity’s birthday, hosting a concert from the latest hit band,
or making fashion statements?

Every-time I hear one of the opinionated hosts from the Today
Show proclaim it is the most watched ‘news’ program I cringe.
It should be called what it really is, a variety show that
tosses out a tidbit of news once an hour.

I think this because although I don’t turn the TV on the wife
does watch the Today Show. It would be nice if news was talked
about during at least half of the ‘news’ program. Oh well, this
oldfart needs some coffee and breakfast so I’ll leave it there.
We’ll have a snicker later. Enjoy our Saturday.
Comments are always welcome.


I knew it!

July 14, 2017

You may remember I got a haircut yesterday after everyone gave
up on bugging me to get one. I didn’t get it to look prettier,
nothing would help in the that department. I got a store bought
haircut because it was hot out and I was tired of not being
able to see anything when I bent over.

Having a face full of hair makes it hard to see the kids to
yell at them to get out of the yard. Yet people get the wrong
idea. They seem to think said haircut signafies the desire to
become a new and improved me. This is not the case. I can
assure all that I am still the equal oportunity offender.

By that I mean if you are easily offended at some point I
will be hearing I offended you. This is why I haven’t been
invited to wedding, or asked my opinion on the beauty of a new
baby for many years. The last wedding I attended resulting in
having to post bail twice and parents don’t like being told
their baby looks like Winston Churchill.

So imagine my surprise when I recieved a call that I was
eligible for an upgrade on my cell phone. The caller stated
that I could rid myself of my phone that only allows to make
and recieve calls and get one that allows me internet access,
text messaging, and the ability to share pictures taken
instantly on the internet.

I have no need for instant updates of phony baloney news or
to know what the weather guessers think the weather will be
like. This is one oldfart who is fighting the technology fad
and proud of it. And if by chance you call and I don’t answer,
leave a message and we’ll get back to you.

Enjoy our friday. We’ll be heading to the grocery store in a
little while to pay too much for what we don’t really need. Now
I need a Snicker’s again.
Comments are always welcome.


Chatting with antique farmer

July 12, 2017

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Talking to Dad yesterday I think we both had a great time. He
was more talkative than usual and we covered a lot of ground.
Everything from one Iowa farmer losing his crop to weather
earlier this week due to storms, to how it’s getting crazy
trying to remember all the different sexes we now have.

We talked of two-cylinder John Deere tractors, some tree limbs
that were hanging in his back yard, and the summer of 1936. In
Iowa that year the temperature stayed above 102 degrees from
the 3rd of July to the 17th, when it dropped to 99 and then
went back up again.

The heat came after a drought that was the dust bowl and on
the heels of record cold and snowfall over the winter. Some
were predicting the end of the world while others strived to
survive. In those days before air-conditioning became popular,
many slept on their porches as the house was just too hot.

Grandpa always said tractors were a fad and horses couldn’t be
worked in the heat because they don’t sweat and would have
dropped over dead. So any work that involved the horses was
done at night. When Grandpa left the farm for the last time in
the early 1970s he still told anyone who would listen that the
tractor was a fad that wouldn’t stand the test of time.

Sometimes I see him standing there with his bib overalls,
matching hat, and brown work boots pulling a hanky out of a
pocket and blowing his nose before starting to talk of the
many fine points of a good work horse.

When it was time to go I noticed Dad was smiling and after I
walked to the car I caught sight of some smiling idiot in the
rear view mirror. It was a great day.

Enjoy our Wednesday.
Comments are always welcome.


Iowa scents

July 11, 2017

I would imagine when Texans go to another state they would get
asked if everything really is bigger there. Being from Iowa is
a whole different story. Some confuse our state with Indiana,
Idaho, and believe it or not, Ohio! We are not famous for our
potatoes.

In 2016 our population was 3,134,693 with about 7 times that
many hogs. People from other places think Iowa is all farmland
and flat as a skipping rock. We do have manufacturing, financial
services, information technology, biotechnology, and around
30% of our energy comes from green energy sources. We also
have hills.

The green energy has become a source of displeasure to some as
wind turbines tend to push the aroma of pig poop into places it
has never been before. And when the smell of money hits city
folk in their nostrils it is not a pretty sight.

Now some suburbanites are suing the farmers with wind turbines
as they feel the aroma is a nuisance. No war has been declared
yet and we’re told scientists are looking for ways to tone down
the smells that offend those who moved to suburbia.

These same suburbanites who are suing over the nuisance are
among those who pushed to get more wind farms (green energy)
in our state. Being a country boy I know the smell of manure
in large quantities can be distracting, but why push for wind
farms that only spread this smell over longer distances?

Did you think hogs and cattle had outhouses for their waste or
farmers sent their children out with industrial sized pooper
scoopers and plastic bags before you moved next to a farm?
Then you also probably didn’t know that some farmers spread
the manure over their fields as a fertilizer. When those big
turbine blades start spinning in the breeze it will move the
odor along with the air.

Our opinion is to be careful what wish for, you may just get
it. We will return to our regular postings in our next one.
Enjoy your tuesday as it’s the only one we get this week.
Comments are always welcome.


Time for a change?

July 10, 2017

We, as Americans, seem fond of using slang to describe things
and/or people. Like snowflake. It has been around a while and
while funny when first heard has grown old. Perhaps we need a
change?

A new movement should be started to come up with another
moniker and we’d like to start the ball rolling. We believe
that from this point on they should be called hailstones. Why
you ask? We’ll try to explain so even they can understand.

First, we’re surprised there aren’t more protests over the fact
the term snowflake could be considered racist. How you ask?
Because snowflakes are white and thus racist. If Al Sharpton
wasn’t so busy not paying taxes we’re sure he’d jump on this.

And snowflakes remind most of quiet winter snows that cover
the ground and cloak the ugliness in a blanket of white. This
group the term is used to describe appear anything but quiet.

So we believe they should now be referred to hailstones. Why?
Because hail stones usually happen during noisy thunderstorms,
can do damage, and when they melt it’s hard to tell they were
ever there.

And the group being targeted for the name change do make a lot
of noise when they don’t get their way, cause damage when they
riot, and when they’re gone nobody remembers they were there
or what upset them.

So we’ll throw our suggestion out there and perhaps we could
give this group of disgruntled Americans a new name. Do you
have one you think would work? It’s a team effort. We feel
anything worth naming is worth naming right.

Enjoy our monday as yesterday is gone and tomorrow is always
a dream away. Now I need a Snicker’s.
Comments are always welcome.