Me: (while listening to The Boy jam out Tush on his guitar): “How did you get your guitar to sound like that?”
The Boy: “Um….I pressed a button on my amp.”
Me: “Oh.”
He’s not just playing….he’s PLAYING playing that damn guitar. At least we’re getting our money’s worth out of the lessons. I’m starting to recognize the songs on a regular basis.
If we follow all the advice the environmental Nazis give us to make sure we make the earth last longer, are we doing the right thing? I was thinking that a lot of the anti-green speak by the English lawyer might have been just good script writing…but…..:
One of the reasons hybrids cost more than non-hybrids is the manufacture, replacement and disposal of such items as batteries, electric motors (in addition to the conventional engine), lighter weight materials and complexity of the power package.
For example, the Honda Accord Hybrid has an Energy Cost per Mile of $3.29 while the conventional Honda Accord is $2.18. Put simply, over the “Dust to Dust” lifetime of the Accord Hybrid, it will require about 50 percent more energy than the non-hybrid version, CNW claims.
And…..
A recent study by a Stanford University professor concluded that 200 more people each year would die from respiratory problems related to ozone, the unseen component of smog, if all vehicles in the United States ran on a mostly ethanol fuel blend by 2020.
The study also suggested that areas prone to ozone problems, such as the Northeast and Los Angeles, would see increases in ozone levels under that scenario.
There are opponents to the study, and they are documented in the article here. It’s USA Today….I would think it’s a pretty good source.
And…
….more carbon is emitted providing a person with enough calories to walk to the shops than a car would emit over the same distance. The climate could benefit if people avoided exercise, ate less and became couch potatoes. Provided, of course, they remembered to switch off the TV rather than leaving it on standby.
Note: Okay, I have to admit I like this stat. But I would still be overweight, so the environment will have to take a hit from all my cardio and weights and Pilates.
Catching a diesel train is now twice as polluting as travelling by car for an average family, the Rail Safety and Standards Board admitted recently. Paper bags are worse for the environment than plastic because of the extra energy needed to manufacture and transport them, the Government says.
UK source here.
Okay…so…..I will use my car to get places, I will use my normal mid-sized Honda SUV, and I will not fill it with 100% ethanol. Also, I will use plastic bags instead of paper.
I will not put Christmas lights on my house.
Oh, I will still eat meat. But I won’t have as much gas as those that eat ginormous amounts of beans. Hey, doin’ my part for the environment.
I think the message here is….live your life, look at ALL the facts and factor your overall impact (long-term) to the environment before you make a “green” decision, try to do the right thing when you can…..
AND DRIVE WHENEVER POSSIBLE.
Oops…did I just write that out loud?
Just have some common sense, people…and don’t buy in to all the hype without checking your facts. What I’m saying is read ALL the stats from all sides, and not just one set that supports one agenda. ‘Kay? ‘Kay.
And is it just me, or does the host seem to have a fascination with his pen. Moving it back and forth between his hands, placing it on his podium and picking it back up to scratch his knows. Pointing it to…well….make a point.
I have dubbed it “the magic pen”. Because otherwise why would the host need it to manage the show?
Magic Pen. Which bugs the hell out of me.
That is all.
Some time ago, I posted about a neighbor who has the habit of diving in other people’s dumpsters. You can read the post here.
Anyway, a few weeks ago this same neighbor caught me on the way into the house. She told me her kids had been donating old newspapers to their church, and that now the church was going to pay a small amount for the papers. She asked if they could have our papers (charity, recycling, yada yada….not too sure what all she said). She wanted me to put our papers in boxes the kids would provide.
I do recycle my newspapers, and after thinking about it for a minute while she talked on, I didn’t see any harm in letting them have the papers…but I didn’t think I should do the work for them. So I told her if they wanted to they could take the papers out of our recycling bin since that’s the only thing we put in there.
Well…she said that normally she doesn’t like going through other people’s trash (yeah…right…ooookaaaaay) but if we didn’t mind she’d tell the boys to take the papers out of the blue bin.
Cut to yesterday. Trash day. I walk outside to pick up our blue recycling container since the truck had already been by…and…..the woman had dug through about four bags of trash in the top of our dumpster to pull out two small boxes from Amazon I had thrown away. I’m not kidding…she literally had to have taken at least four bags of trash out of the dumpster to get to the boxes and recycle them as she thought they should be.
What the hell? Who does that? Tommy and I agree that there’s nothing I can do or say that wouldn’t escalate the matter with the neighborhood recycling Nazi.
I truly regret giving her the benefit of the doubt. And it’s rare that I say that about our neighbors. But this woman…well….she’s a “special” case.
So what do you think? Should I be offended? Should I say anything?
1. Why do some moms wait until ALL their children are home after school to do their errands?
2. Wouldn’t it be easier on everyone (including those of us in line at the post office) if they would go sans school kids?
3. Because really, who wants to listen to all that screaming, yelling and fighting?
4. Not me, that’s who. Oh wait…that’s not a question.
5. Why do people put so much effort into their outdoor Christmas decorations (and the arguments that inevitably take place during placement of such decorations)?
6. Because if they’re inside the house, can they ever really enjoy the decorations anyway?
7. Other than to wait for comments/compliments about said decorations?
8. A dark house at Christmas, I say.
9. It’s just SO much easier.
10. Sorry, I know….not questions.
11. Why does the girl working the curbside pickup at Chili’s wait until the food is cold to bring it out and THEN walk back in to process the transaction?
12. Wouldn’t it be simpler to come collect the cash (or card or whatever), then run the food out to the car when it’s still hot?
13. Sorry, I guess that would make sense.
14. Why did she look at me with a blank stare and say, “Sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying” when I asked her if she thought it would make more sense to collect payment first so the food wouldn’t get cold while I waited for her to go back in and get change?
15. Why do teenagers seem to be getting dumber and dumber?
16. At least the ones around here?
17. And why have they lost all sense of a work ethic?
18. And why do their managers let them get away with it?
19. Why do women leave their screaming children in the gym day care, refusing to answer repeated pages for kids in distress?
20. Why does it seem like they care more about finishing their makeup in the locker room vs. taking care of their kids?
21. Why do I think it’s freezing cold outside when it’s a balmy 45 degrees?
22. Why do so many people run the stop light by Chili’s when there have been SO many wrecks there recently?
22. I mean, are they TRYING to kill someone while they busily chat on their cell phones?
23. Why does it seem like all people who own Cadillac Escalades refuse to drive safely?
24. Seriously, does the damn thing come with a safe driving waiver?
25. Why do so many people on my street refuse to park in their driveways, deciding instead to park along both sides of the street so only one car can get by?
26. Are they trying to block views, endanger kids that inevitably run out between the cars parked on the street, and generally make MY life harder?
27. Because it is, after all, about me isn’t it?
28. Why is this list so long?
Oh yes, I forgot. Most people just don’t stop and think. About anyone other than themselves. Except me – and you – of course. The rest of them, not so much.
Me (on a message on the spouse’s cell phone while he was in the pre-flight brief): “Well, the garbage disposal is broken so hopefully you’ll call before you leave for Chile.”
The Spouse (on a quick call before push back): “So, the disposer’s broken?”
Me: “Yes, I push the light switch and it does nothing.”
The Spouse: “There’s a red button underneath it – you’ll have to use the flashlight to find it.”
Me (grumbling while fumbling for the flashlight and the button): “Okay, I pushed it. Nothing happened.”
The Spouse: “Well, is it plugged in?”
Me: “……..Oh. I guess I knocked it loose when I was getting the ammonia.”
The Spouse: “So, you called so I could tell you to plug the disposer in?”
Me: “……Sorry.”
Note to self: Before you call the spouse at work, check to see if everything’s plugged in first.
Dammit. I hope he still brings me wine.
As a family member gets ready this week for another mission far away, I can’t help but think of all those souls who are deployed to parts known and unknown in defense of our country. The gentle soul I know will miss his daughter’s first Christmas while the majority of us remain at home, safe and happy with our loved ones.
And so, once again I feel compelled to post this poem written by a soldier far, far away one lonely night.
Please read. And remember that peace always comes at a cost to someone.
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‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And to see just who in this home did live.
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States Soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I had just read,
Curled up0on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I was visiting this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon all around the world the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedoms each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn’t help wonder how many lie alone.
On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God, my Country, my Corps.”
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
And we both shivered from the cold night’s chill.
I didn’t want to leave, on that cold, dark night,
This Guardian of Honor, so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, and with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, ‘”Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas Day. All is secure.”
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, and to all good night.
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