Secrets of The Turkey Hotline


My wife amazes me.  Every now and then she will make a sojourn into MY world, entering the shop like a seasoned Drill Sargent from Ft. Polk Louisiana, she will walk from one end of my shop to the other.  With the eye of an Eagle and precision migratory homing skills, she dissects my shop. Pointing out obvious discrepancies, “Is this new?” … “Where did that come from?” … Is this bus stuff?”

The interrogation continues and I do my best to dummy up, all the while desperately hugging my Krispy Kreme Donut box secretly filled with LED lights. At sixty-seven years of age I have become a smuggler in my own country, such a sad lot in life, especially for a veteran.  So the saga continues … We go back into the house and turn on the tube.

Testosterone is what I am after. Ice Road Truckers, American Loggers, Gold Rush, NASCAR, I want to implode something in Minneapolis or some other place back east.  Maybe a football game … Just about anything.

The absolute last thing I don’t want to watch is Paula Deen explain how she found this old dead turkey on some backwoods, dirt road in Southern Alabama.  How she, soaked it in a secret sauce for the last nine hours, and then explains in a deep southern drawl that would make a Back-water Craw-Daddy cringe in fear .. “when we’re done girls it will taste just scrumptious!” 

Stop torturing me woman!  

When was the last time you heard anyone, male or female, for that matter say something like: “I just love the rich hearty beefy flavor” or “Today we are going to deliver a juicy turkey, and savory dressing, and you will get a spicy crantastic WOW from my sauce.” 

Face it, people just don’t talk that way in America.  And one more thing stop BS’ing me Paula, we all know it’s gonna taste “just like Chicken.”


Click on the bird and crank it up! 


Hope And A Prayer

flagToday I am dedicating a couple of hundred words to the subject of Faded Dreams.  (If you want to bail on it now, I would understand) 

As I understand it, there is a school of thought that says as we age, we tend to remember things of the past and do not necessarily look ahead to the future. 

This could very well be true in my case, as I have a tendency to look back on life now, instead of wonder what might lie ahead of me, which I have to admit in all honesty, often scares the Be-Jesus out of me.  

The Cracker Boy has said to me, “You ought to start a nostalgia page.”  He could be right.

A friend of mine in Reno, Nevada made a comment the other day that has kind of stuck with me all week long.  “He said that we had most likely lived thru America’s Greatest Moments, and that particular time in history, is now long gone. “

And then he put it this way.  He said it was:  A time that was truly special to him, and most likely would never be seen or experienced again.  Both of us being “Baby Boomers” his comment at the time, made a lot of sense.

We grew up in a time when America was stretching her muscles, reaching for and achieving great heights, as a country and a society.  When Hollywood made a movie that had moral character and backbone, when a politician ran for office because he actually thought he could improve things.  We were growing then, we were making things, and the world bought our goods because they were built with pride by a people who knew who they were.

Bring back any memories?

We didn’t have fast food, we had an occasional trip to the Hamburger Stand and real french fries, not all this pre-cooked frozen crap.  Most of the time, supper was a meal prepared at home by Mom, it wasn’t fast, but generally it was always on time.  And if you didn’t like what was on the menu, you could sit there and think about it until you did.  

At suppertime, you didn’t sit there like zombies, your face planted in some electronic device, you had real conversations.

At that time in life, you had ONE SET of parents.  People who plopped down $10K to buy a house on a government loan, a father that went to school on the GI Bill, who wore jeans on the weekend and never heard of a credit card.

You did not ride to school in a car, you walked, if you were lucky, you had a bike to ride.  Plenty of homework and frustration and fear, I still remember having to get under my desk for a “Nuclear Attack Drills” and wondering, “How in the hell is this going to save me?”

We didn’t have a television in our home until I was around 11 years old, and it was black and white, and the remote was either me or my sister.  Later on came color television, with Hoss, Ben, Little Joe and Adam all of them lost each week on Bonanza.  We had Leave It To Beaver, Lucille Ball, Jack Benny and no MTV Jackass. 

Pizzas were not delivered to our home . . . but milk, bread and fruit and vegetables were.  We used to have an ice cream guy come around, we could not afford the ice cream, but every now and then, he would allow us to scoop up a handful of chipped ice.  Which on a hot summer day was often just as good as the real deal.

All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers. I delivered a newspaper, seven days a week. Had to get up at 6 o’clock every morning and I had to keep up my grades, bad grades, no newspaper route.  

Which meant no movie money, no candy bars, and no frills.

In the summer we played baseball at the park until the sun went down, in the winter it was football or stomp ball in the rain.  We were outside, we were not overweight, we did not have onset diabetes or polio.  We were living the good life and life was being good to us.

What you remember I suppose, reflects how old that you are.  

How many items you recall is the image of what you have become.  Headlight dimming-switches on the floor of the car.  Ignition switches on the dashboard.  Three speed column shifts, four on the floor.  Using hand signals for cars without turn signals.  How about those big old, ca-chunk, tape players, cannot remember the name of them right now (8 tracks?).

Fake Sweet cigarette candy in a box.  Coffee shops with juke boxes right there in the booth, twenty-five cents, and you got three plays.  All of it music your Dad could not stand, an added bonus.  Skating at the Roller Rink, a kiss in the dark at the school dance. 

Home milk delivery in glass bottles and before bottles, poured into a jug that was left at the front door each morning. Party lines on the telephone.  Girl Scouts and Bluebirds hawking cookies at the front door.  News reels before the movie and not being old enough to sit in the balcony.  Your sister practicing tap dance steps on a hardwood floor.  Skates with a skate key and wooden baseball bats.

TV test patterns that came on at night after the last show and were there until TV shows started again in the morning. (There were only 2 channels.).  Transistor radios and four D size batteries.  Sling shots.  Vinyl records (33-45-78).  Stereo Hi-Fi’s.  Butch Hair cuts (and lot’s of Jelly Wax to make ‘em stand up).

Metal ice trays with levers, a Dr. Pepper bottle with a silver cap full of holes (Mom’s water bottle because she did not have a steam iron). Long drives on the weekend, just for the fun of it, and 18 cent gas.  Gay meant you were happy.

Blue flashbulbs and Brownie Box cameras.  Dick Clark and American Bandstand.  Wash Tub wringers for the chammy’s at the gas station.  A pack of Marlboro’s rolled up in the sleeve of your T-shirt … And the Viet Nam draft.

Perhaps my friend in Reno is right, it could be that the best of it, is now firmly entrenched behind us.  It has gotten to the point where we cannot find one soul who knows how to (lip sync) sing our National Anthem or anyone of strong moral fiber to step up and say … Stop it, this is not right.

It appears that our means of salvation as a nation now is possibly divine intervention and nothing else.  We seem to be running on a hope and a prayer … and not much more than that.


Possibly Related:  Red Hill


WordPress.Com Mumbo Jumbo

Hi there,

Can you please provide a link to the post that is having this problem? Does this happen with all new posts?

Automattic |

So I patiently outline and provide specific items that need to be addressed. I answer all questions to the best of my knowledge.

—– Original Message —–

From: “Heather @” <>

To: <> Sent: Monday, July 14, 2008 8:32 PM Subject: [WordPress #FOA-595595]: disappearing posts.

Hi Don, Thanks for your updates on this issue. We’ve created a new FAQ to help clarify how the tag surfer works and potential reasons why posts may not display there. One or more of these items is likely the cause for the issues you’re encountering:

Also note that multiple attempts to push a post to the top of the tag surfer by changing the publication date could also be the cause.

Automattic |

Well, that is a nice theory, but it doesn’t hold water.  First, I am not using the tag surfer to locate the posts, I just go to the category and look for the post, it is there and then it is not there.  Second, it often doesn’t post at all.

There is no reason for it to post some of the material 17 posts down in the page, displaying it some three weeks later, AND NOT DISPLAYING IT ON THE DAY IT WAS PUBLISHED, it should in my opinion go to the top of the page, not buried deep within it.

At the very least …. It ought to go somewhere.

Somehow I just “knew that this would work out to be ME instead of wordpress” and I am not surprised at all.  First I am told that it was because there were too many tags on the posts, so I cut the tags back, and the problem remains.  Now it appears that I am the problem?  What a load of crap that is.

As for “pushing it with multiple dates” that is BS too.  I was just trying to make it appear, hell it wasn’t even showing up most of the time.  It is a sorry deal, no two ways about it and “Frequently Asked Questions” is not a solution it is a cop out.
To: <>

Sent: Tuesday, July 15, 2008 8:32 PM  Subject: [WordPress #FOA-595595]: disappearing posts.

Hi Don,

Tag pages show the best, most recent posts – not all of them. To ensure that future posts continue to show up on tag pages, please follow the guidelines on

Again, the more relevant the post is to the tag, the more likely it is to show up in the listings. You may want to assess the relevance of the “recent” tag in relationship to your post’s content.

Automattic |

Recent: 1. having happened not long ago: having happened or appeared not long ago the recent birth of her daughter. 2. modern: from current times or the very near past recent political trends

Random: 1. without a pattern: done, chosen, or occurring without a specific pattern, plan, or connection random testing for drugs. 2. lacking regularity: with a pattern or in sizes that are not uniform or regular a wall constructed of random stones

I know the definition of the words, thanks. That didn’t help a bit. It must be nice to just keep dancing all around the problem, that way you don’t have to admit you have a problem, and heaven forbid, try and fix it.

“Tag pages show the best, most recent posts – not all of them.” Your words not mine.

Why even have a page if you are not going to post it? Who determines what “the best is?”  When you post something (best or otherwise) and it “buries it 17 deep” that is not recent, that is plain pathetic.

When a post goes up, and then after a period of time, disappears, but the others remain, that tells me that YOU have a problem, and it is NOT the author of the post. I also find it a little coincidental, that after squealing like a stuck pig, four out of five of my posts actually survived one day and that only one disappeared yesterday.

That has to be some kind of new record, might want to put that on the global dashboard tomorrow.

I will admit that in the beginning because of my lack of understanding, I may have caused some of the problems with the tags (I had way too many) and that could have been part of it. In my defense I will admit to seeing multiple postings here with more than the 12 tags, I have counted as high as 18 on one post.

I have actually seen 25 posts in order by one author, which is tantamount to spam, but it is evidently tolerated.  But that is a completely different issue. My problem remains, after making the necessary corrections the problem is still here, so I seriously doubt it is anything on this end of the line.

I write about life, recent happenings in America or where I live, I have occasionally have a random thought on subjects that are affecting me and those I know.  So you tell me where to put it? You tell me how to tag it?  (And your “first choice” doesn’t count)

You ask for “specifics” and when you are provided with them, you choose to ignore them or blow it off. But this latest answer here (or non answer), this is just verbal masturbation and nothing more.

I might as well be talking to robots.

So Heather at support (which in this case is laughable at best):

Hi There.  I have posted 282 posts on this site since March of this year, and have received 360 comments from over 10,191 people around the world.  Which I believe is a noteworthy accomplishment, considering I was “doing it all wrong.”  Now I am going to post this and hopefully it will go somewhere ……. Where ever that might be?

Now you can go back to your personal emails or video games and forget about the rest of it. Don’t send me any more correspondence with your “suggested reading lists” which are basically useless.


Tags: Please Read. Please Post. Please put this three pages deep so no one will ever see it. Please remit your annual $30 payment for a crappy system that refuses to work in the order or fashion that it promises.


Real World 101



THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “If life is so good, then why is it, that we often feel so badly?”

What do teenagers of all income groups have in common? A love of money.  Once a year, the Harrison Group, a marketing consulting company in Connecticut, surveys 1,300 teenagers 13 to 18 across the U.S. about their financial attitudes. This year’s study included an in-depth look at those raised in affluent households, those with more than $150,000 in annual income.

Seventy percent of all the teens surveyed said they wanted more money. Half agreed that money “may not buy happiness, but it comes close.” And 34%, up from 29% in 2004, said “it is hard to be truly happy without a lot of money.”

Not surprisingly, teens raised in more-affluent households had distinctive spending habits and brand preferences. For example, more than 70% of them said they love luxury-car models such as Mercedes-Benz, BMW and Lexus.

The study also noted that “Inner-city kids are taught more about sex and drugs and violence than how to take care of money,” the article goes on to say. “The poor kids were fearful because they didn’t know how it (personal money management) worked, and they didn’t want to take risks.”

It appears that in America … “Wealthy people value time; poor people value stuff.”  In our case, Cup Cake and I, have too little of the first, and way too much of the second.

At the core of the problem, could be the message that we send our children.  Chicago’s public-school system recently has awarded a brand new car to a “12 year old girl, as a reward for her perfect school attendance record.” Now how sad is that?  She cannot legally drive the $15,000 Dodge Caliber for another four years, and critics question whether such lavish gifts send the wrong message to children.

Duh, you think so?

There are some schools of thought, at least my old man had one, and it was, “learning and achievement” were rewards in themselves.  If you can do simple math, if you are able to read this, then be thankful for your education.

Meanwhile the dork that runs the Chicago Public Schools said that this prize was a vital weapon in the fight against truancy and that they were not going to (ever) apologize for that.  My dad had a prize for truancy; it was called a trip to the woodshed.

Meanwhile out on the left-coast, a student at Tesoro High School in affluent Orange County, Kali-fornyuh, was charged with 69 criminal counts for allegedly hacking into the school computer and changing all of his bad grades to A’s.  When asked the reason for his criminal behavior the kid replied that he just wanted to make sure he got into a good college.

Back in the day, when I brought my report card home, and it was all A’s, I would be automatically suspect for sure.  Just didn’t happen.  I remember one day my Dad said, “What you get on your report card?” and I replied, “I dunno, I think it is a Full House … 3 D’s and 2 C’s.”

That dog didn’t hunt either.


Cyber Rommance

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “You’re not supposed to like your job.”

Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban became the latest celebrity couple to adopt a unique name for their baby. Sunday Rose Kidman Urban was born in Nashville, Tenn. Talk about putting a label on a kid that is going to lead to ridicule and taunting, you could not have chosen a better one than this.  Kidman, 41, and Urban, 40, refrained from choosing “a typical star weird name” their agent says, though she adds that month names are used more than days.

Refrained from …“A typical star weird name?” … Why didn’t they just name the poor kid after a city, say Atlanta. Which would sound like “Atlanta Urban” just in case later on in life she inherits a bus or train line.

Jeeze ……….

Now this one, well, it just makes me chuckle, dog-gone it. It just does. Sioux City, Iowa police were serving a warrant on some poor clutz and in his haste to get away, he fell out of a four story building, landing on an air conditioning unit and then eventually bouncing to the pavement below. Not the best of plans. Now here is the part that I liked … His name was “Dudley Blackbird.”

I guess he could not fly.

There is a new book out, “Love + Sex With Robots” written by robotics’s expert David Levy. In this book he is predicting that within five years, people will be having sex with robots, and in, 4o years, full blown relationships. Now some guys have been having sex with robot’s ever since the Honeymoon was over, that is nothing new, but the relationship issue might be something to look at.

The development of artificial intelligence and robots is now proceeding so rapidly, it will soon be possible to produce anatomically correct mechanical partners that are “something akin to the sex dolls that are for sale now.”

I wonder if they will have “sound effects?”

The Japanese for a few years now have been offering robotic dogs and toys along this very same line, so this could in fact, not be far off.  Think of it. Your very own, custom, made to order partner, capable of holding conversations and forming a reasonable facsimile of a human relationship.

It boggles the mind.

As I am old school, and not as firmly planted or entrenched in the loop as I would like to be on the majority of this computer age issues, I find it somewhat mind numbing to sit around and talk with a robot.

But according to this book, you will in the future find robots, good conversation partners, electronic quasi-humans that will talk to you and you will get as much pleasure from it as talking to another human.

It may be a little grotesque to fall in love with a robot, but then again, people with physiological problems and say, physical deformities, it could be a huge consolation in life for them. It could be a huge consolation for millions of people in the world who in essence have no one.

And I have to wonder …. Where do you plug her in when she has a headache and is tired?


Out Of Pocket …

Listening to Oldies on Internet Radio, going back in time, such a sweet thing, a luxury now.  It was a quiet time, and I felt I would be alright, I didn’t have to wake up each and every morning and worry about what is going to happen today.

You see it your way and I see it my way, here in my heart I give you the best of my love, the benefit of my extended thought processes and good intentions.

Wouldn’t it be good if you could somehow locate a playlist from June of ’65 or that period of time.  That would be a trip, I might have to do that this week.

Life was pretty good in ’65 as I remember it. (It might also pay to note here, that the sixties were especially good to me, and I don’t remember a lot of it, but what I do, well, that was okay.)

What a regimen.

Take my call, go to the yard, mount up on the beast and head out of town … another day on the road. A lover and a fighter, a dirty old freight train rider. The major emphasis was on “chasing the buck, making the almighty dollar, putting some grub on the table and buying the essentials for the good life.”

Not like it is today. I could sleep well with the backdoor unlocked, didn’t need a locking gas cap on my truck, security lights, my fellow drivers waved at me with all their fingers. Not like it is today. Today things are a lot different, it is a whole new ballgame, but strangely, it remains the same, if you can follow that line of thinking.

Bought some gas this morning, now that was a real bummer. My money, much like yours, isn’t even slowing down when it gets to me anymore. One of these days I fully expect to hear my banker say, “I am sorry, but your collateral is insufficient for your loan on two packs of Twinkies, and we have to decline you at this time, sorry.”

Yeah, you sure are.

Here I sit all dirty and dusty from trying to rub my Charcoal Briquettes together and start our backyard barbecue (I cannot afford starter fuel anymore). We are having burgers, with hamburger helper, added to the hamburger helper, no chips. Kool-Aid to wash it all down, or as they used to refer to it in the service, “bug juice.”

Things are getting so tight, that even the Mexican’s are now on the move.  Like the tide, it appears that they will come and go with the ebb of the economy.  According to informal surveys by the Mexican consulate in Dallas, most of those wanting to return to Mexico cite the sudden scarcity of jobs, fear of deportation and uncertainty about obtaining legal resident status any time soon.

But others think that immigrants returning to their countries won’t hurt the U.S. economy. “The country’s economy adjusted to the immigrants’ presence. No doubt it will adjust to their absence,” said Ira Mehlman, national spokesman for FAIR, an organization opposed to illegal immigration. “That these people are leaving proves what we have been saying for years,” he said. “If you begin enforcing the law to prevent them getting what they come here to get, they will go.”

According to the article, as the moment to leave came, José Luis Sánchez and his family didn’t have an idea of the Mexico awaiting them. From their family, they expect everything. From their home country, not much. “We’re going to continue living by the day, for sure,” he said. “But psychologically we’re going to be better. With our family, without fears, without pressures. It’s worth the difficulties.”

And, he added, “The American Dream is just that – a dream.”

Mexicans that are staying are sending less money home.  Mexico’s central bank said remittances from Mexicans working abroad fell some 2.6% in the first five months of 2008.  A vastly slowed down economy, immigration “enforcement” have led to the downturn of funds leaving the U.S.A.  There goes Mexico’s virtually cost free second economy or source of foreign income.

Now let’s see if they can “complete globally like the rest of us?  On a shrinking dollar that is worth less than twenty five cents.”


Good News – Bad News

You ever get tired of television or the Sunday Paper telling you that your not as beautiful as you should be, or strong enough, or fashionable enough to fit in. You ever get tired of a constant steady stream of bad news on the airwaves.

Television news broadcasters assault us with story after story of how bad things are in the world these days.

If it bleeds … Then it leads. Seems to be the most popular approach to television news. Bad news is the new mantra of the twenty-first century. Get used to it.

Yesterday my next door neighbor, Marc, said to me, “If I hear one more sound bite on gasoline, McCain or Obamma. I am going to take a gun and blow my brains out!” I have to agree, on some days I am right in there with him on that.

By the time you reach age 18 it is estimated that you have seen approximately 200,000 violent acts on television, some of that includes murders, at about 16,000. Each of us deals on a daily basis with this kind of stuff and I figure over the years, just like anything else, it has to affect us.

Taking it one step further, I will go out on a limb here and venture that a great many of us have become “addicted to all this bad news” even though we are painfully aware it is no good for us, we still seek it out.

We have to have it. It is our elixir of life for the day.

Now one of these days I figure, things are going to turn around, and all of the news is going to be good for a change. Things are going to slow down in our favor, and life is going to vastly improve for the majority of us. Money won’t be tight, she will never have a headache, cable tv will be free.

(Hey? This is MY story, ok?)

What about those poor unfortunate folks who are addicted to nothing but bad news. They are going to miss it something terribly. That is why I have decided to print a “Bad News Paper” for all those folks who cannot stand to live without their daily dose of bad news.

The Bad News Gazette will contain: Negative thought, bad memories, hard times. Because they are addicted to it. They are going to miss all this, that is where I come in, I am gonna print a bad news paper. Having found themselves cruelly missing this, I will provide it for them. That I am afraid is the down side.

But here is the upside, I should make millions.

My 911 at-large-mobile-correspondent in Nevada, (Art) has come up with some possible headlines.  We feel as if these will be suitable for the first start off additions of the Bad News Gazzette, check out the new headlines here.