Warning, Snigs Rant Ahead

As with most every other holiday out there, the 4th of July seems to be nothing more than an excuse to get shitfaced, knee walkin’ drunk.

I guess that’s all well and good, even if a fool and his money part company during a good drunk.  As long as you’re staying off the roads, not taking a swing at your wife (or husband, girlfriend, mother, brother, or kids), not raping anybody I reckon it’s just fine.

But.do.not.BRAG.to.me.about.how.you’re.too.drunk.to.know.your. own.name.

Like I said elsewhere- big fat whooptiedo.  So you’re over 21, can open your mouth, pour liquid in, and swallow repeatedly.

I’m not impressed.

I’ve seen drunk frogs, moths, and spiders, so that shows me anything can get too drunk to move right.  Wow!  You are drunk!  You have something in common with a frog I once saw!

To borrow Dana Carvey’s line-

Isn’t that special?

Now, you might get the idea that I’m against drinking and/or think it’s a sin.  Nope, not at all.  I like a few select wines, I love Seagrams VO  mixed in my eggnog, and there are some days that you just cannot beat Absolut & tonic- with a twist of lime.  I personally can’t stand beer, but don’t begrudge anyone who likes it.

I’ve been drunk before.  Drunk-off-my-ass drunk.  I honestly could not have told you what color the top light on a traffic signal was a few times.  Somewhere after about age 25 though, I grew the fuck up.  I didn’t need to brag about getting so drunk that I couldn’t remember where I left my underwear anymore.  Not that I have gotten “drunk” many times since then- the few times that I have, it slipped up on me.  Perhaps my tolerance isn’t what it used to be.

My point- I don’t care how drunk you get, but why do you have to tell the world about it like it’s something out of the ordinary?

Tune into Cops or Jail- you can see plenty of folks just like yourself on those shows.  Drunk and stupid.  You think you’re Don Juan when you’re drunk?  The rest of us are probably seeing you more as a Donald Duck.

That don’t impress me much.

(Fireworks from our local show last night)

Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence?

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors and tortured before they died.

Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.

Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army;  another had two sons captured.

Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.

They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

What kind of men were they?

Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists.

Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.

Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly.  He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.

At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.

Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed.  The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.

John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she was dying.  Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.

So, take a few minutes while enjoying your 4th of July holiday and silently thank these patriots. It’s not much to ask for the price they paid.

Remember: freedom is never free!

The Fourth of July has more to it than beer, picnics, and baseball games.

Hell, I need to make a reservation for one

Was sitting there tonight, watching Molly blow bubbles.  David decided to get in on the fun and he was blowing huge bubbles and I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.

He asked what I was laughing about.

I told him “nothing”.

He pressed the issue and I told him “nothing” again.

He kept on and finally sulled up in that typical teenaged fashion.

“Oh for God’s sake son, you are a pouty shit.  I was laughing because I thought of a little something.”.

“What?”.

“I thought of something you and Michael Jackson had in common.”.

“WHAT?”!

“You both blew Bubbles.”.

Do they take VISA in Hell?

History Detective

Many years, my grandfather’s brother told me a very interesting story.

“Cinderella*,”, he began.  “Remember the Confederate Gold that got missing down the road a bit?  Well, that wasn’t the only thing that went missing in this area.  During a battle right here in town** we were taking a beating.  It wasn’t looking good and a wounded soldier had one of the Confederate Seals***.  That boy climbed a tree over on what’s y’alls’ place and wrapped and put that seal in a knot hole of the tree.”.

There’s always been a tree here that was too big around for four adults to hold hands and encircle it.  After hearing Uncle Rob’s story, I threatened to tear that tree apart.

Of course Mama threatened me with bodily harm and I never did.  However, age and weather have torn it apart for me.

Intrigued by the possibility of what might be in that tree somewhere, we walked down to it.  In falling apart, it took down at least 7 other good sized trees.  It’s sad looking with that big tree gone.

David took his metal detector and went all along the hollowed out (by age) trunk.  Nada.  Up and down huge limbs, bigger than most trees you see, nothing.  Molly & I walked back to the house, the guys kept searching.

Right before it got too dark to look anymore, the found something…

Cloth.

In the center of that hollow tree trunk.

OLD Confederate GRAY cloth.

They’re going back in the morning. 

*Cinderella- Uncle Rob called nobody by their name.  My mom was “Duck”, one of my aunts, “CottonTop”, his own daughter was called “Joe”.

**Town.  Heh.  Hard to imagine.  However, my great-great-grandfather built the barn that’s on our property and it was the livery stable at the time.  There was also a bank, 2 general mercantiles, a hotel/saloon (the house we lived in when we moved here), a restaurant, blacksmith shop, and something else that I don’t remember.

***What he called a seal is more than likely a brass embossing made by the actual seal.  They were presented to higher ranking officers.

Dunno if it will work but-

A Ford mechanic suggested disconnecting the battery cables for a few hours.  Said it worked just like unplugging your VCR when it gets “hung up” and resets the electronics.

About 3 or 4 weeks ago, I let the battery croak by leaving my lights on.  The transmission has been screwy every since I got someone to jump me off.

KNOCK ON WOOD!  James disconnected the battery for a good while yesterday afternoon.

Last night, this morning, early afternoon and late afternoon, it carried us where we were going without any cutting up.

I’m not convinced yet, but I am at least hopeful.

On another note- I went to the bank today to cash my and the husband’s checks.  I didn’t count it afterwards, because as usual, I got the greatest teller in the world and I never worry about her shorting me.

Proceeded to the gas station and instead of grabbing cash from my billfold, I opened the money envelope I just had gotten from the bank.

I noticed it felt kind of thick…it was.  Thick to the tune of an extra $371.00.

You don’t know how badly I *needed* $371.00 right now- hell, it wouldn’t quite pay this month’s electric bill, but it would come damned close.

Anyway, after I finished at the gas station, I took the extra money back.  I don’t know if they could have traced it to *my* transaction or not.

But I do know I’d hate to see that teller lose her job over an honest (on her part) mistake.

Sometimes I wonder if that kind of stuff is God’s way of testing us, to see if we deserve a break.  If so, I hope He is smiling on my transmission.

Halp!

Okay car gurus- here is your chance.

The transmission is working again and appears to be working fine.  For the moment anyway.  Here is a list of its symptoms:

• Occasionally shifts from 1st to 2nd gear slightly rough.  Doesn’t jar teeth- just a touch rough.
• Does not slip at all in reverse or under a strain.  Shifts appropriately into passing gear as needed, gains speed going up steep inclines.
• Seems to jump out of gear mainly only when trying to maintain a lower speed like 25-45.  Then, it only does it when you are easing off or gently giving it the gas.
• By “jump out of gear” I mean- all the sudden, the engine revs up, take your foot off the gas and it goes into gear.
• No pattern as to the temperature outside, nor does it seem to matter how far it’s been driven.  Have had it happen within a couple of miles of start up, after 40 miles of driving, and sometimes not at all.

The fluid is full.  It doesn’t appear to be burned nor dirty.

Heh, it has 250,000 miles on it nearly.  It may very well be ready to be buried. (I get allllllll the goodie out of everything I own.  No need to get rid of something until it absolutely won’t work anymore.)

It’s supposedly a E4OD transmission- Ford 94 Econoline van.  I can’t find anything about anything older than a 95 having a E4OD transmission in it though.

I’ve gotten several different diagnoses from people who are supposed to know.

Person A.  The vacuum hose is sucking air.
Person B.  It doesn’t have a vacuum hose.
Person C.  If the transmission was really going out, you’d have more than occasional trouble out of it. (I will say when I had a vehicle that the transmission died on- it just up & croaked.  Pulled it into R an it didn’t budge.  Pulled it into 1, 2, & D and it didn’t go anywhere. )
Person D. Change fluid and filter.
Person E.  Don’t change the fluid!! It will die on you then!!!

The bottom line for all of them was- I can rebuild it for $2000.00.

I’d like someone with no interest in parting me with my money to give me an idea though.

Anybody?  Bueller?

FFS Part 934837

My boss has made my damned head nearly explode.

The thing he’s the least likely to understand is he came close to having his own exploded for him.

More later.

Oh and I’m pretty sure I have road rash on my butt.

More on that later too.

3 things I was certain would last forever

Death.

Taxes.

Billy Mays screaming commercials.

Guess I was wrong.

Supper, Southern Style (Almost)

Skipped the bread and cantaloupe was part of the meal…

Chicken, sauteed squash, broccoli, tomatoes, field peas with snaps, cantaloupe, and pound cake for dessert.

I pulled a Justin Wilson with the chicken.  Meant to add a few sprinkles of ground red pepper.  It was more like- Dash, dash, dash, hmm, dash, OOPS!  Let’s just say it put a little zest to the meal. 

Anyway, I am thankful to have airconditioning again.

And the husband put the bullets back in the Black Hawk.  Not sure why he took them out last night after the a/c went out, not sure at all…

YAY Cool Air!!!!

My a/c is patched up for the moment.  Seems the capacitor was dead, which was making the fan overheat.

My a/c guy was here at 8:30, but didn’t have a capacitor that fit.  Seems he replaced 5 just in the last couple of days.  So he “afro-engineered” several together to get us through the weekend until a new one comes in that is the correct size.

I love my a/c guy!