Attitude Adjustment

Being as I am terminally afflicted with a modern illness termed “Road Rage” it is often that I have to self diagnose myself and quickly take measures to protect not only myself, but also the general public at large.  This morning, I am cruising down the boulevard; all is well in my world.  Traffic is light, most of it has cleared out, and the road for the most part is quite empty.  I am pleased, I chuckle and think, “If I was any happier I would have to pay an amusement tax.”

The radio is playing Keith Urban, and I think to myself, “this guy isn’t country; he wouldn’t make a pimple on a country singers …. Uh, he just isn’t country.” Once again, I have to remind myself to …. Leave it alone.

And there he is … Out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

The dumb-bell in the Little Debbie’s Snack Cakes truck, he is going to blow thru that yield sign and push me over.  I feel the heat building; road rage is coming on board to make another trip with me this day.  It doesn’t take much in my old age to set me off like a rocket at Cape Canaveral in Florida, I don’t even hit simmer on most days, just go straight to boil.

I have him figured right, here he comes.

Bigger than Dallas, in less than a New York minute, he blows thru the sign and I have to move over, no sense in seeing who has the best insurance this day. Face it, Eagle bodywork is not like taking the family hoopie into the local Ford dealer.  I succumb to his rude entry into my world, and I note that he is also talking on his cell phone.  Man, that rankles me, only thing worse than this would be text messaging, currently illegal in five states and in my opinion worthy of five to ten in the state pen.

Okie drivers (and I suppose drivers in other states) these days leave a lot to be desired.  Most of them have their head so far up their collective hinnies, they need a plexi-glass stomach just to see where they are going.  Adding a cell phone, the modern equivalent of a cigarette in the twenty-first century, just makes it worse.  Often technology does the exact reverse of what it was designed to do, mainly, improving the quality of life.

I heat up, I growl, I wish bad things on this person AND his cat.

Knowing full well that this volatile behavior on my part, is not conducive to good mental health or otherwise, I sit back in the seat, I smile and say to no one in particular, “get out of here moron, I have better things to do with my time this day, than mess with you.”  (When it gets really bad, I find a exit ramp, walk around the bus four or five times, stopped in New Mexico one time and got a piece of apple pie …. Whatever works, right?)  I was in Sweetwater, Texas a few summers back and this woman in a mini-van with a little faces in every window, loaded to the gills with kids, blew thru a stop sign right in front of me.

Standing on the breaks hard, shifting the contents of just about everything to the front of the truck, I wanted to kill her.  But I understand that even in Texas, this is illegal.  So I shouted out at her, “Don’t you know when to stop!”  She yelled back, “these aint all my kids!”  Texas, it is like a totally other world ….. Y’all.

Most truckers look at bus drivers with disdain and something less than outright disgust.  They feel we do not have a right to be on the road with them, same as four wheelers and the like, and have told me so on several occasions.  But the simple truth of the matter is we share a common problem, and that problem is bad drivers and attitudes.  When you get right down to it, where the rubber meets the road, we actually share the same universe, our world’s are not all that different.

The sign reads “Flyin J at exit 194” and a nice looking KW, clearly a garbage hauler, with a half-million dollars in chrome, naked women on his mudflaps and at least five dozen made in Hong Kong LED lights, comes barging onto the scene with a vengeance.  I move over, the lettering on the back of his trailer reads, “Every courtesy of the road is yours.”

Now isn’t that ironic?

Time to back out of it, and get some pie.  Won’t help my boyish figure any but it will almost certainly improve my attitude.

Life is short … enjoy the ride.

OOO

Snakes On A Bus

What do we talk about on this auspicious occasion, I got a full eight hours sleep last night, and I am as sharp as can be.  It has been awhile since I have slept a long, good sleep, I feel refreshed.  I DON’T HAVE THOSE WAKE UP IT’S EARLY, WASH BEHIND YOUR EARS THEY’RE DIRTY, EAT YOUR EGGS AND OATMEAL BLUES …. RISE N SHINE TIME … I REALLY FEEL LIKE I COULD GO FOR IT TODAY.

Turn on the player, and the first tune out of the box is “Brad Paisley … I would like to check you for ticks.” Hard to believe.  Who writes his lyric’s, Jeff Foxworthy?  Like most men, there are a great many things I think of during the day, concerning women, checking one for ticks, honestly, has never been one of them. (Please … do not send me any letters!)

Where do they get this stuff?

I just read where there is a guy who is wanting someone to transport snakes from Odessa Texas and is willing to help out on the fuel.  These are rattlesnakes by the way.  Now I know the price of fuel is high ….. But?  ……. So, today’s question for the day … “What would you do, transport the snakes or pass?” … Hard choices eh?

Which reminds me of a story I read awhile back from down under, Sydney, Australia.  An unknown man grabbed a bag out of a car stopped at a stoplight.  The car belonged to Bradley McDonald, a local snake catcher.  In the bag was the snake he had just caught, a four-foot long, venomous red-bellied black snake.  “It might teach him a lesson” McDonald said.  Who says there is no justice in the world?

When Yosuke the parrot flew out of his cage and got lost, he did exactly what he had been taught recite his name and address to a stranger willing to help.  Police rescued the African grey parrot two weeks ago from a neighbor’s roof in the city of Nagareyama, near Tokyo. After spending a night at the station, he was transferred to a nearby veterinary hospital while police searched for clues, local policeman Shinjiro Uemura said.

He kept mum with the cops, but began chatting after a few days with the vet.  “I’m Mr. Yosuke Nakamura,” the bird told the veterinarian, according to Uemura. The parrot also provided his full home address, down to the street number, and even entertained the hospital staff by singing songs.  “We checked the address, and what do you know, a Nakamura family really lived there. So we told them we’ve found Yosuke,” Uemura said.

The Nakamura family told police they had been teaching the bird its name and address for about two years. But Yosuke apparently wasn’t keen on opening up to police officials. “I tried to be friendly and talked to him, but he completely ignored me,” Uemura said.

Often people miss the entire point.  Yosuke had the right to remain silent.

(Yeah I know, pretty lame)

We have two parrots that own us, Mo & Popeye, the latter being an African Grey.  He is amusing, quick to learn, and a bona-fide pain the part of you that goes over the fence last.  Last year we took him on vacation with us, in a little cage, right behind me in the backseat, he rode around America in the bus.

In two weeks that bird learned to say …….. Stooooopid! … Tell me they are not smart.  Just what everyone in life needs … A parrot with Road Rage.

Parrots are demanding, a life long commitment.  Recently I was discussing with our oldest boy, which parrot he wanted when I died, because the birds in captivity will live upwards of 75 years.  ( In comparison, on a good day in captivity with the little woman, I am surely not going to make that)  So I ask the kid, which bird do you want?  He thinks about it and then says to me, “Which one tastes the best with a little salt?”

Not a good day to be a parrot.

Hard hitting television on PBS last night.  “Depression Out Of The Shadows” a comprehensive survey of the causes and treatments of clinical depression.  It profiled many young people of different ages and backgrounds who have problems contending with the disorder.  Covered the bases pretty good, from a CEO of a major corporation to a gang member on the streets.  Right now I seem to be riding high on the tide, and my depression is in check.  I am okay, but later on I have to purchase some gasoline for my old family truckster, check with me afterwards.

I find that late in life, purchasing dead hydro-carbon-fossilized-organisms at a highly inflated price tends to drive me to the very brink of insanity and depresses the fizz out of me.  Perhaps it is time to increase my daily dosage of Prozac.

Clearly I need help.

OOO

Attitude Adjustment

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Being as I am terminally afflicted with a modern illness termed “Road Rage” it is often that I have to self diagnose myself and quickly take measures to protect not only myself, but also the general public at large.

This morning, I am cruising down the boulevard; all is well in my world.  Traffic is light, most of it has cleared out, and the road for the most part is quite empty.

 

I am pleased, I chuckle and think, “If I was any happier I would have to pay an amusement tax.”

The radio is playing Keith Urban, and I think to myself, “this guy isn’t country; he wouldn’t make a pimple on a country singers …. Uh, he just isn’t country.” Once again, I have to remind myself to …. Leave it alone.

And there he is … Out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

The dumb-bell in the Little Debbie’s Snack Cakes truck, he is going to blow thru that yield sign and push me over.  I feel the heat building; road rage is coming on board to make another trip with me this day.  It doesn’t take much in my old age to set me off like a rocket at Cape Canaveral in Florida, I don’t even hit simmer on most days, just go straight to boil.

I have him figured right, here he comes.

Bigger than Dallas he blows thru the sign and I have to move over, no sense in seeing who has the best insurance this day.  Face it, Eagle bodywork is not like taking the family hoopie into the local Ford dealer.  I succumb to his rude entry into my world, and I note that he is also talking on his cell phone.  Man, that rankles me, only thing worse than this would be text messaging, currently illegal in five states and in my opinion worthy of five to ten in the state pen.

Okie drivers (and I suppose drivers in other states) these days leave a lot to be desired.  Most of them have their head so far up their collective rear-ends, they need a plexi-glass stomach just to see where they are going.  Adding a cell phone, the modern equivalent of a cigarette in the twenty-first century, just makes it worse.  Often technology does the exact reverse of what it was designed to do, mainly, improving the quality of life.

I heat up, I growl, I wish bad things on this person AND his cat.

Knowing full well that this volatile behavior on my part, is not conducive to good mental health or otherwise, I sit back in the seat, I smile and say to no one in particular, “get out of here moron, I have better things to do with my time this day, than mess with you.”  (When it gets really bad, I find a exit ramp and take a whiz, walk around the bus four or five times, stopped in New Mexico one time and got a piece of apple pie …. Whatever works, right?)

I was in Sweetwater, Texas a few summers back and this woman in a mini-van with a little faces in every window, loaded to the gills with kids, blew thru a stop sign right in front of me.  Standing on the breaks hard, shifting the contents of just about everything to the front of the truck, I wanted to kill her.

But I understand that even in Texas, this is illegal.

So I shouted out at her, “Don’t you know when to stop!”

She yelled back, “these aint all my kids!”

Texas, it is like a totally other world ….. Y’all.

Most truckers look at bus drivers with disdain and something less than outright disgust.  They feel we do not have a right to be on the road with them, same as four wheelers and the like, and have told me so on several occasions.  But the simple truth of the matter is we share a common problem, and that problem is bad drivers and attitudes.

When you get right down to it, where the rubber meets the road, we actually share the same universe, our world’s are not all that different.

The sign reads “Flyin J at exit 194” and a nice looking KW, clearly a garbage hauler, with a half-million dollars in chrome, naked women on his mudflaps and at least four dozen made in Hong Kong LED lights, comes barging onto the scene with a vengeance.  I move over, the lettering on the back of his trailer reads, “Every courtesy of the road is yours.” Now isn’t that ironic?

Time to back out of it, and get some pie.  Won’t help my boyish figure any but it will almost certainly improve my attitude.

Life is short … enjoy the ride.

OOO

Sour Grapes … Computer Rage

OPEN ROUND

I have a little time on my hands today, going to the Doctor’s Office and he is going to say, “How are you doing?” and I am going to smile my best toothy smile and reply, “Great!  I am doing just fine.”  Then he will pull out his pad and write me even more prescriptions.

Which is frustrating to say the least, I am now currently taking a Ford Crown Victoria Hubcap full of lug nuts every day.  Why do they even bother asking.  I got news for my doctor, he doesn’t know it, but every day, every dog-gone day, I beat my previous record for staying alive.

Just finished reading my email and found some folks unhappy with me again, it doesn’t seem to take much these days.  But being the kind sort that I am I prayed for them.  “Lord … Please help me to love those who do not love me, and those that do not love me, teach them how to love me Lord, and if they cannot learn to love me, then could you please break their ankles, so that I will know them by their limping.  Amen.”

Never hurts to lift up a prayer.

Did some surfing on the net and visited all those places that I know of that have all that education that I seem to lack.  This is where I get my daily dose of the big words and plenty of quotation marks.  I bet that the folks that write these blogs have a dictionary and a thesaurus handy, right there next to the monitor.  Here is a word that I am starting to notice a lot … “Visionary.”

I suppose we will be seeing or hearing more of that in the days to come.

Lot of folks are starting to get sour because their particular political savior didn’t make the grade and are getting kind of nasty.  Mellow out people.  If the frustration of losing an election have driven you to this, you could be suffering “political computer rage.”  This morning I was visiting one blog and the main conversation was on Rush Limbaugh and the sentiments and comments were less than measured.  Y’all need to remember that radio personalities such as Limbaugh are there for a reason, to stir you up, hack you off, ruin your day. I am firmly convinced that “AM” on my radio dial stands for absolute moron.  I will not begin to tell you what “FM” stands for.

As I said before:  “Lot of folks are starting to get sour because their particular political savior didn’t make the grade and are getting kind of nasty.  Mellow out folks ”  This is hate speech.  Which is the electronic equivalent of “Road Rage” on the nation’s highways.  If you suddenly find yourself using metaphors such as “jerk” or the F-word more frequently than usual, then you are most likely suffering from computer rage right now.  You are not adding anything pleasant to the mix, you are muddying up the waters.

And if you are in your home, and there is no traffic other than internet comment sections, then who do you take it out on?  The family cat?  The computer?  (I know!  I know!  Let me have this one!)  83% of all American’s at one time or another have abused their own computers or the computer of their employer.

Breaking a keyboard is a problem, shattering a monitor, or the outright murder of a mouse!  I suppose if you got totally postal as the kids say, stood up in your chair and kicked the sucker, that would give a new meaning to the word … Reboot.

This article I read on this subject said that the #1 item to suffer the most was the keyboard.  Mice and monitors tied for second place and hard drives came in a lowly third.  Who hasn’t ever, in a fit of frustration “slapped the fizz out of the monitor” to loosen a stuck cursor.

Raise your hands, C’mon, be honest.

I believe it was Albert Einstein that said “It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.” And I am fairly sure he was right on the money when he said it.  Recently I read an article that stated that “seniors are more likely to stay sharp (in the mind) by surfing the net” and applying this technology in their daily lives (USA Today).

The biggest lie in the world.

It might keep you sharp, but it is going to Pi** you off from time to time and raise your blood pressure higher than your I.Q.  Manufacturers will tell you this stuff is plug and play, download it now, and then you start the process …. “I don’t know what is going on here, why isn’t this working?”  Hours and hours of frustration, doesn’t make one sharp. …

Plug This!  You no good ##@$%*!!# son of a mothers son!

“What is going on in there?” from the kitchen.

“I just downloaded a new gadget, darling, and I am just uh, err, sorting it out.”

Might be easier to just be a visionary, besides, have you checked the price of a new keyboard lately?

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Somewhat Related and recent:

Thanks to DanaMckay for the heads up on the utube video.

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Goin’ With The Flow

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “Wake up and smell the fuego! What if that bubble you live in was to suddenly burst? Who you gonna call?”

Not long ago, Dell Computers laid off 200 Okies and sent them to the barn. The major catch here is the same day they did this, the shut down division, reopened in a place called El Salvador in Central America. Of course, the mayor, comes on television and claims that they did this because “of the national economy” and that was the prime reason he proffered. I always love it when the “explain it off” and cover their tracks.

What a dumb—.

We get kicked in the teeth all the time, and never seem to learn. We build them the buildings, give them the lease dirt cheap, sell them the floor space at below market share, it works for awhile, and then they always do this very same thing. Ship the jobs out of the country. I just hate it when the American worker takes it in the shorts like that, something that seems to be very much the norm anymore. Guess I am just wound too tight for my own good these days.

My frustration seems to be apparent when I am behind the wheel of my truck, I need to learn to calm down. Some Texas Tagged Jerk-wad cut me off today and gave me Road Rage. The surprising thing about it was, “I knew he was going to do this, and I allowed it. Then I get mad. Pretty dumb.” Didn’t take me long to calm down afterwards.

Like I said, what really surprised me is that I had figured out he was going to do what he did beforehand, and then I get all bent out of shape when it actually occurs. This was stupid, I can do better. I need to learn how to “go with the flow” as my Dad used to say … “roll with the punches.”

Think about it.

Friday morning in the Big Town.

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