When I was just starting to work, I held two jobs. One was in the coal mines, and the other was in a local supermarket / grocery store.
At the supermarket there was an assistant manager. His name was John Wally. I’m sure that he is dead by now, as it was a long time ago. If he’s still alive, he’d be over a hundred years old.
John Wally was unique. He was a good friend, and very interesting fellow. he had horses, and he would take us out riding them now and then in the woods nearby. But, you know, he also had a lot of 1970’s “back to nature” skills. One of which was the brewing of birch beer.
Easy to do.
You get a bunch of chipping from the birth tree. I believe that it was the root stems. And then you put them in a big coffee urn and percolate that collection for a couple of hours. The result is a dark brown liquid that tasted like root beer.
Then, piping hot, you pour some in a cup, and add a generous heaping of sugar, and there you have it. A very nice drink.
Now, a word to the wise, if you drink too much of this, you will go to the bathroom, and it will really clean you out. I’ll tell you what. It’s pretty potent.
Country lore of the 1970’s.
There’s many such things, from the yarn crafts, to the stichings on recycled old clothing to work arounds so that the “rabbit ears” on top of the television pretty much gave a better signal. (Hint; Aluminum foil worked wonders.)
Home made birch beer. If you live near a Pennsylvania woods, give it a try. You might like it.
Today…
Comparing China and the US: Is there a difference between the Chinese Communist Party being in charge in China and the plutocracy in the US being in charge there?
Yes, there is a HUGE difference.
In the USA, the people have no meaningful democratic power. The wealthy oligarchs pull all the strings. Consequently, the average American has seen their quality of life diminish steadily in recent decades.
In China, the government serves the people’s best interest and responds to their feedback and input through regular consultation. The average Chinese has seen their quality of life increase steadily and dramatically in recent decades.
What shocked you when you opened someone’s safe deposit box at the bank?
My wife’s brother died and left everything to her. He was a hoarder, and while the house was in a good neighborhood, it was in bad shape. We tried to clean it up for him while he was in the hospital, thinking that he would be coming home, but he went from ICU to Hospice to Morgue in about 10 days.
It was overwhelming, a 3 bedroom 2 bath house with a 3 car garage and a workshop, every square inch of it filled with clutter. He was a contractor, but when he got divorced he just gave up. There was 30 years worth of junk mail on the floor that he just walked on until it turned to paper pulp, 2 feet deep in places. He didn’t trust banks, so his whole house was like his safety deposit box. Every envelope had to be inspected, every box had to be opened, every bag had to be emptied. We found 2 Home Depot buckets worth of loose change in the living room. We found 7 postal money orders for $1,000 each in an old utility bill envelope. We found $4,000 in cash in a paper shredder. We took 200 big black 42 gallon trash bags to the dump, and everything had to be checked out before we tossed it into the trash. The main hallway had sheets of drywall leaning to one side, and when we cleared them out and opened the closet where the HVAC equipment was supposed to go, we found silver bars stashed in the space below, behind the air intake. I loaded the silver into 2 plastic buckets to carry it out to our truck, and after about 3 steps the buckets shattered and I was holding only the handles. It took us 6 months of cleaning before we were confident that we could bring in other people to help us.
My wife sells on eBay, and she has been selling off the stuff her brother had accumulated. Old school incandescent light bulbs sold like hotcakes, we had enough new in boxes to fill her short bed truck. He collected milling machines and lathes. My wife will be selling brand new collets and chucks and bits and cutters for 5 more years. We’ve got enough circuit breakers and panels and wire and conduit and junction boxes and switches and wall sockets to redo every house on our street.
I’m something of a car guy, and I’ve been tasked with selling off the engines and car parts. I’ve got enough period correct Chrysler hemi parts to build 3 or 4 muscle car engines. There are enough hand tools to overload his diesel dually 4×4, and enough power tools to fill his 2 wheel drive diesel dually truck again. We gave his ’68 Barracuda to his best friend.
We’ve been working on the house for over 2 years now, getting it read to sell.
As a car mechanic, what’s the worst condition you’ve seen a car in that made you say, “how are you still driving this”?
Not a mechanic but worked in a building that also housed a delivery service. The couriers parked in the parking garage on the lower level for quick arrival and departures for making their deliveries. One of the vehicles was an old Pontiac station wagon. The fellow must have lived in his vehicle. He had a cheap grill attached to the top with bungee cord, the legs were removable, next to a sack of charcoal, a couple folding chairs, and a popup canopy. Inside the vehicle the floorboards were covered with plywood or boards as the floorboards had rusted out. He had a clothes bar suspended behind the front seat with clothes hanging from it as well as in the back with clothes hanging there. The vehicle must have come from around the great lakes as it appeared the salt on the roads had eaten out the fenders and most of the bumpers. the back windshield didn’t go all the way up, there was a piece of Visqueen duck taped over the gap, just at the top so driving down the road allowed air to flow out.
One week we noticed a handwritten sign laid on the front dash that pleaded with building security to not tow it away as the owner was saving money to have it repaired.
I noticed an empty plastic tote in the back by the window that wouldn’t go all the way up. I dropped a $20 so that it fell into the plastic tote. The next week I noticed that several others had dropped money through the slightly open window from $1 to $10 type bills. As the week progressed the stack was looking tempting. Then the car was gone. I don’t know if it got towed away or what. Several weeks later there was a used Toyota Prius parked in the same spot with a large hand scrolled sign on the front dash with a “thanks to all that contributed”. We all hoped that he was able to find an apartment and that the courier service paid well enough to get him off the street.
GEN-Z REACTS To Things Kids Did in the 1970s
Buttermilk Brown Sugar and Bacon Biscuits
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/4 cup light brown sugar, + more for dusting (if desired)
- 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
- 3 slices cooked, crisp bacon, crumbled
- 7 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
- 3/4 cup buttermilk
Instructions
- Heat oven to 450 degrees F.
- Stir together flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, and bacon until evenly mixed.
- Cut in butter with a pastry cutter until the pieces of butter are the size of small peas.
- Add buttermilk and stir until the dough is uniformly moistened.
- On a lightly floured surface, bring the dough together and roll to approximately 3/4 inch thickness. Fold, envelope style, and roll again. If necessary, fold and roll again until the dough is smooth and uniform.
- Cut biscuits and bake for 11 to 15 minutes until tops are golden.
- If desired, brush tops with butter and sprinkle with additional brown sugar.
Are Chinese people aware that their government is an authoritarian dictatorship?
I grew up in Canada. My high school economics teacher explained something that no one else did. Socialism, communism and capitalism are economic systems.
Democracy, theocracy, monarchy, autocracy and meritocracy are political systems.
If you look this up in any reference book, you can verify this.
So it’s possible to have democractic communism, theocratic capitalism… the combinations are limited only by permutations.
China is ruled by the Communist party of China. But they espouse and practice socialism with Chinese characteristics.
The political system is a meritocracy.
Everyone moves up the ranks by how well you perform. You start doing administration work in a village. Prove yourself and get a town to run. Then a small city. Medium city. Large city.
Many leaders were mayors of Shanghai. Population of 26 million.
That is no easy task.
If the economy of Shanghai is in the doldrums and you fix it, move up the ladder. Provincial head. Then a few more high level policy committees. The journey can take 30–40 years.
No big mistakes and you keep going up.
Xi Jinping followed this path. All along the way, you get voted to move up. Most leaders are engineers, architects or economists. They are planners and builders. They rely on proven ability not good sounding speeches and promises.
Action speaks louder than words.
What is the most disturbing thing you’ve seen while camping?
When I was a kid we would go camping for q weeks every summer. Even when my parents divorced we still went. My dad would be with us the first week then my mother would xome up and trade off with him for the second week.
One year we were at our usual campground in Southern Michigan. One morning at a nearby campsite, the parents were arguing very loudly. While this was going on their young boy (maybe 3?) was running around unsupervised. He stayed mainly in their site but I think that was only luck.
After a while of this his luck ran out. They had had a fire in the pit the night before as most people there had. These pits were little more than an eight inch depression in the ground surrounded by rocks. The morning after a campfire the pit is full of ash. However, that ash covers an underlayer of very hot coals. Hot enough that if you stirred them up and added more wood the fire would reignite. This poor kid ran through the pit.
The only response from the parents when this kid started screaming was for dad to grab him up, yell at him to shut the hell up, and stick him in a lounge type camp chair. Dad then proceeded to rejoin the argument with mom.
We couldn’t see the kid very well from our site but we could sure hear him. For about an hour he screamed in pain while his parents fought only pausing now and then to yell at him. Finally, my dad had had enough and walked over to confront the other father. They almost fought but my dad walked back, told my mom he’d be right back, got in the car and left. He came back about 15 min later and said he’d called the police from the range station. He said the boys feet were burned raw.
About 20 minutes later 2 state police cars and an ambulance arrived. The big was loaded into the ambulance and after some investigation by the troopers around the campsites nearby, each parent got their own backseat in a cruiser.
Never knew what happened after that. We were there about another week and that other campsite sat just the way they left it. I kinda hope that kid went to someone else that took better care of him.
MBS Backs Putin, Threatens G7; ‘If You Sell Frozen Russian Assets, Saudi Will…’ | Report
I caught an accident on my dash cam. I turned the footage over to the police. Now the party that was at fault is suing me. What should I do?
Having worked with (U.S ) Attorneys for a number of years, let me explain something. Attorneys depend on making the most money for their clients as possible, because that means that THEY make more money. Most “injury” suites are percentage based which means the higher the overall award, the higher amount of money the Attorney can claim as their fee. (This is usually a set percentage, but 30% of $300k is a WHOLE LOT MORE than 30% of $100.00.)
Because of this Attorneys will “name EVERYONE possible” to a suite. I’ve even heard of some going after KEY WITNESSES. It’s a BLATANT attempt at coercion – STRICTLY PROHIBITED LEGALLY – but a good number of the more “known” accident attorneys across this nation are nothing more than glorified ambulance chasers!! 90% of the time, these extemporaneous “Defendants” are dismissed from the suite LONG before the case would get anywhere close to trial, HOWEVER that does NOTHING for the ABSOLUTE TERROR these tactics cause for the upstanding citizens that offer video, photographs or verbal witness to an accident.
As has been previously stated, your BEST solution would be to hire an attorney, answer the suite, THEN countersue for emotional distress, loss of wages (time lost due to appointments w/attorney, doctor appointments due to the distress – if any – time lost having to appear in Court, mileage, gasoline costs, daycare costs if incurred, literally EVERY LITTLE THING you and your attorney can think of, to prove a point to opposing council, that #1 their an idiot; #2 YOU are NOT; #3 that they barked up the WRONG tree; #4 that Attorneys DON’T COME CHEAP, etc!) Then you follow thru with your counter suite, EVEN if they drop you (by force or by choice) from the suite! Good Luck!!
US missiles in Germany
Why are there so few car wrecks on the German autobahn?
The whole system works for this.
- High entry barrier – rigorous training , examination, and it’s expensive. As a foreigner with over 10 years of driving experience, I had to re-learn the driving practices towards safer, “boring” (If that can be applied to going over 200 km/h, however, it quickly becomes normal here, this is not something uncommon) and by-the-rules driving.
- Design & quality of autobahns – in places where you don’t have speed limit – there are usually wide 2-lane roads with low curvature and very good visibility. It’s always undergoing maintenance, which ofc can be annoying when you have to go down 80–100 from 200kmh but you know, that there is a very low probability you encounter degraded pavement – usually these places quickly become speed-limited zones and the problems are addressed.
Very constrasting with neighboring Checz republic, for example, where there are holes and bumps on 130kmh road. - Technical examination of cars from TUV/Dekra is another heavily regulated area. You cannot even install tires of less width than officially allowed (in my case 215 vs 225 already made a case).
- Heavy fines
While most of the fines are not tied to the income (e.g. bußgeld), a plenty of them can not only eat your budget but also give you Flensburg points. 8 points and you loose your license, and then you have to undergo MPU test (famous “Idiotentest”). That makes people obey the rules, so if you see “30” sign, everybody will drive 30.P.S. Autobahns are one of the most beautiful feats of Germany. Many things work wrong here, but this thing is simply amazing. nowhere in the world you can legally go as much as your vehicle is able.
CALIFORNIA WOMAN WENT TO FLORIDA AND FOUND OUT | Obstructed License Plate Turns into Felony Charges
Californian meets Florida. Real talk.
What’s a red flag that you ignored in a significant other, only to realize it was a big deal later?
Spending like a drunken sailor.
I was warned not to marry her. I told them to mind their own business.
Right from our early dating days, we fought like cats and dogs.
But I went ahead and married her anyway.
18 months into the marriage, I’m in the Air Force and she’s unemployed and not willing to stick at any job … BUT, she spends money like a drunken sailor. And when she’s spent every penny we have, she starts writing dud checks to spend more. I’m working two jobs trying to keep up with the bills, but she’s out-pacing me in the money race. I get called up to my CO’s office twice about her writing bad checks.
Then I come home one night at 1:00am after my second job and instead of being at a neighbor’s house babysitting, she’s at home. When I approach our apartment I see a guy coming out that she’s been “palling around” with.
That’s the final straw. I tell her it’s over and to pack her things and go home to her mom (which she has threatened on so many occasions).
Fast forward and I’m with wife #3 for over 40 years and we like to watch the Forensic Files series.
What makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck is how many stories we see on that show, of spendthrift wives who knocked off their husbands for their life insurance and to move on to the new boyfriend.
That could have been me!
What is the last thing someone said to you before they died?
I had a piano student named Lynn, who was very intelligent.
She worked for the Department of Education in eastern Canada.
Lynn was extremely health conscious.
She followed a nearly perfect diet, and exercised regularly.
Lynn ‘speed walked’ to her piano lessons.
She began to complain about a pain in her right side.
Over a five month period, Lynn repeatedly went to the doctor, who assured her it was a ‘pulled muscle’.
When she finally got a second opinion, the ‘pulled muscle’ turned out to be cancer, which had eaten away part of one of her ribs.
Lynn was alone in the city.
Her husband had died of cancer a few years prior to her diagnosis.
He was a surgeon, and they had saved a large amount of money for retirement.
Lynn was slated to retire at the end of the school year, eight months from her cancer diagnosis.
She and her late husband had planned to travel around the world, and enjoy their golden years together.
Lynn my student, became Lynn my friend.
I became her confidante.
The hospital was less than a ten minute drive from my studio.
I went to visit Lynn during my dinner breaks, and before bedtime.
She told me if she could relive her life, she wouldn’t be on committees because it ‘was expected’ of her.
She wouldn’t do ANYTHING out of guilt or the expectations of others.
Lynn shared her regret of wasted precious time spent at meetings and social ‘obligations’.
I told her that I was going to resign from everything that wasn’t meaningful in my life.
My wise student thanked me for keeping her company in the hospital.
Her last words to me were, “Remember Gail, there are no guarantees in this life.”
Lynn died the following day.
Since Lynn’s death, I have been very selective about how and with whom I spend my time.
Immediately following her passing, I resigned from everything except a music association and The Animal Rescue League, two passions in my life.
Being aware of the value of time is invaluable!
$10 vs $50 Buffet | Vietnam
Say I walk into a car dealership with the funds to pay in full. I walk up to a salesman, point to a brand new car on the showroom floor, and say: “I want that one.” No test drive, no trade in. How long would it take before I’m driving it off the lot?
My first experience was with a Toyota RAV4 – I had test-driven the vehicle a week before, so I called the dealership and told them exactly which one I wanted and how long it would take me to get to their lot.
It took ONE HOUR AND 15 MINUTES!!! They knew exactly which car it was; they had it there at the front of their lot; I had already negotiated price; all they had to do was have the paperwork ready! But instead they kept trying to sell me more add-on’s and “things I needed” – and I kept saying “No” until they finally got to the bottom line and took my check.
My second experience was when I bought my wife a Ford Fiesta – again, I had already test-driven the vehicle earlier that week, and I knew which one we were going to get. I told the salesman, “Last time I purchased a car with cash, it took 1 hour 15 minutes. Can you beat that time?”
I was able to drive the car out 47 minutes later.
It still is ridiculous how long it takes to pay cash for a car, but the reality is that the car price is NOT how the dealership makes its money. They get their profit from the financing, the extended warranties, and lots of other little add-on’s that raise the bottom line. I know now NOT to tell them that I’m paying cash until LATE in the process (negotiate the Out-the-door price first, and THEN bring up any trade-in’s and that you’re paying cash). I don’t begrudge the dealer making a profit, but I don’t like them wasting my time with things I have already said “No” to.
(By the way, I still have the RAV4 – 164,000 miles later, and still running great!)
Believe it or not: U.S. actually sanctions Chinese tricycles
U.S. sanctions on Chinese high-tech companies are no longer news, but a recent sanction has taken everyone by surprise—the common “san bengzi” (three-wheeler) electric tricycles found in rural China have been deemed high-tech products by the U.S. and become targets of sanctions.
These tricycles, which cost only about 3,000 yuan (approx. $460), are referred to as “low-speed electric vehicles” by the U.S. Department of Commerce. On July 11, the U.S. announced anti-dumping and countervailing duty investigations on these vehicles, with preliminary decisions expected in August and November this year.
The origin of this situation is quite interesting. Early last year, an American blogger spent $3,000 to purchase a Chinese-made three-wheeler online. Upon receiving it, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the vehicle performed well: it could travel 60 kilometers on a single charge, required no registration, and had zero emissions. After he shared his experience online, it caused a sensation. Americans discovered that these vehicles were particularly suitable for use on large farms, and more economical and affordable than traditional pickup trucks.
Subsequently, U.S. demand for Chinese three-wheelers surged. Chinese companies quickly responded, even offering customization services. The selling price in the U.S. also rose, reaching $5,000 to $12,000. Besides three-wheelers, similar golf carts and sightseeing vehicles also became popular in the U.S.
This situation displeased U.S. automakers.
They petitioned the Department of Commerce, claiming that Chinese products were being dumped at low prices in the U.S. market, distorting the market. More surprisingly, U.S. automakers claimed that the dumping margin for Chinese three-wheelers was as high as 477%. In other words, they believed that a three-wheeler selling for $12,000 in the U.S. should cost around $50,000 to produce, implying that the Chinese government was subsidizing each vehicle by over $40,000.
This claim is laughable.
A product that sells for only 3,000 yuan in China, even if sold for $12,000 in the U.S., is already overpriced. How could it possibly be considered dumping? Not to mention the alleged $40,000 subsidy.
The president of Club Car, the largest golf cart manufacturer in the U.S., claimed that Chinese imports have rapidly increased, taking advantage of government subsidies to gain a larger market share. However, according to U.S. Department of Commerce data, the total value of related products imported from China in 2023 was only $440 million, a small figure for both countries.
This sanction reflects that the U.S. vigilance towards Chinese manufacturing has reached a new height. Previously, sanctions were imposed on high-tech products like 5G and drones, but now even rural three-wheelers “qualify”. However, even if the U.S. imposes high tariffs, Chinese companies have ways to cope, such as assembling or rebranding in third countries.
In conclusion, this incident makes one sigh: the threshold for “harming U.S. industries” in American eyes is getting lower and lower. Even products from township enterprises can attract sanctions, truly giving people a new perspective on the current state of U.S. industrial strength.
How The A-10’s Avenger Cannon Went From Terrible To Terrifying
There are few airplanes as iconic as the U.S. Air Force’s A-10 Warthog, and one very big, both figurative and literal, reason for that lies in its massive armor- shredding 30mm gatling gun that sprouts from its chin — the GAU-8-A Avenger cannon.
But as legendary as that gun has become, much of the A-10’s early development was spent ensuring that its cannon killed the enemy, and not Warthog’s pilot.
In other words, the newborn A-10’s big tusks resulted in some serious teething problems.
This is the story of how the A-10 overcame the Avenger’s woes and in doing so, became the feared ‘flying gun’ it is today.
How The A-10’s Avenger Cannon Went From Terrible To Terrifying
In 1971, the United States Air Force hired General Electric and Philco-Ford to build competing prototype cannons for its A-X program that aimed to field the Close Air Support plane of the future. Not only were these companies developing the guns, but they were also developing the ammunition and link-less feed systems, as well as devising how to integrate them into the competing Northrop Y-A-9 and Fairchild Republic Y-A-10 prototype aircraft.
These weapons were an integral, and literally huge, part of the airplanes that would carry them. So much so that according to the official Air Force case study of the A-10’s development, it quickly became clear that the A-X airframe would need to be designed around the gun, rather than visa-versa.
The Avenger Takes Flight
During the A-X development, the guns weren’t ready for the fly-off between the two competing prototype aircraft. Instead, the Air Force provided the smaller 20mm M61 Vulcan cannon that was in widespread use for the head-to-head trials, which the Fairchild Republic design ultimately won. So, Northrop’s Y-A-9 never even had the chance to fly with the Avenger.
In 1973, General Electric won the separate gun competition with its seven hundred pound, seven-barrel rotary cannon… it dwarfed a Volkswagen Beetle once you added in the ammo drum and feed system. The Air Force did also briefly consider arming the A-10 with the Oerlikon 3-0-4-R-K 30mm revolver cannon, however it had a much lower rate of fire and was significantly less reliable than the GAU-8. The Oerlikon offering suffered a malfunction once every 900 rounds, while the Avenger suffered one every 9,000 rounds on average…a ten times increase in reliability.
Ground tests of the GAU-8 went pretty much according to plan, but once they installed it in the Y-A-10 and tried taking the gun aloft for air trials in March 1974, major problems quickly cropped up.
For context, it’s important to remember the immense power of the GAU-8/A Avenger. The gun unloads nearly 70 rounds every second and up to 3,900 rounds a minute, and each 30mm cartridge is the size of a beer bottle. The projectiles alone, whether depleted uranium, armor piercing incendiary or high explosive incendiary, weigh nearly a pound, and it takes two hydraulic motors to spin the barrels and cycle the system. And when it fires, the gun belches a thick plume of smoke and fire, violently rattling the airframe while making its signature guttural roar. (cut to “BRRRRT” in A10 b-roll)
Shake, Rattle and Choke
When the Avenger was first integrated into the A-10 airframe, the most immediate issue was that the muzzle flash from the cannon firing blinded the pilot — a particularly dangerous side effect in an aircraft designed to execute low strafing runs while pointed towards the ground. Firing the cannon also left a dark coating of soot on the forward fuselage, including the windscreen, further obstructing the pilot’s view. This alone later required the development of a window-washing function using a cleaning solution and cooled bleed air from the aircraft’s propulsion system.
The next problem was that repeated firing caused so much heat and friction that metal components in the gun mounts began to bond together. While this didn’t impact firing the gun or flying the aircraft, it made the GAU-8 difficult to remove for maintenance.
Maybe most concerning, when the gasses from firing the cannon were released, they had a tendency to flow up over the aircraft’s wings and into the A-10’s high-set T-F-34 turbofan engines, threatening to suffocate them — not a good thing to have happen at any time, but especially when flying low directly over the enemy. Also, the fumes could contain unburned gunpowder which could build-up on the engine’s fan blades.
To address these issues, engineers tried lengthening the barrels in an attempt to dissipate the blast, and they also switched from copper bonding in the ammo to plastic. Neither solution solved the problem, though the change in the ammunition did reduce wear to the gun and was ultimately adopted.
For more than a decade, work continued to develop potential solutions to the A-10’s Avenger woes. These included at least three gun gas deflector concepts.
The first simply added a shield to the end of the nose in an attempt to mitigate the blast and keep gasses away from critical components. Another design extended the overall shape of the nose itself, entirely encapsulating the cannon’s muzzle and leaving just a slit for it to shoot through. This gave the A-10 a bizarre, almost ant-eater-like appearance. The third design involved a muzzle brake that was officially known as the G-F-U-16-A Gun Gas Diverter…and unofficially as “the Tickler.” This sinister-look contraption was mounted to the end of the GAU-8’s barrels and used baffles to reduce the flash and disperse the gasses from the muzzle away from the cockpit and engines.
After testing proved the device prevented the muzzle flash from blinding the pilot and alleviated the fumes from being ingested into the engines, the device was sent out to A-10 units for installation on their aircraft.
However, solving those two issues ended up making another trademark of the GAU-8, its intense vibrations while firing, even worse due to turbulence around the muzzle of the gun. This increased stress caused cracks within the gun bay, and while those cracks were not found to be a flight safety issue, they were a maintenance nightmare.
In the end, the undeniably medieval looking Tickler was ordered removed, and it joined the other attempted remedies to fixing the A-10’s gun problems in the trash pile. While engineers were able to alleviate the flash and vibration issues to a degree, fumes getting into the engines remained an issue.
The ultimate solution came down to an idea that was both crude and ingenious.
Since the most significant issue was that gasses were getting into the engine and causing it to suffocate, engineers made it so that when the pilot pulls the trigger, it continually trips the engines’ ignition system. So even if it hiccups and stalls suddenly, it immediately restarts. Between that and the windshield washing system, the A-10 was in business of reliably ripping apart stuff on the ground with its prized cannon.
Of course, it isn’t anything new for a prototype plane and its weapons to go through some growing pains. But the tale of the initial issues with the A-10’s signature weapon, and the creative ways its designers tried to address those issues, is an amazing concession of aircraft design to a single component. It’s testament to the fact that the gun was just as important as the plane itself, if not more so, and has allowed the A-10 to earn its fearsome reputation as the last plane enemy troops want to see above them on the battlefield.
Now, after decades of service, multiple conflicts and many past reprieves from being sent to the boneyard, the end of the A-10 era is finally drawing near. The Air Force is already in the process of drawing down the type, with the intent that it will be out of service well before the end of the decade. And while employing precision guided munitions largely became the A-10’s central focus during the back half of its career, having the big 30mm cannon and a lot of ammunition at the ready proved highly valuable in many engagements during the Global War on Terror. But now you know that the Warthog’s Avenger cannon wasn’t always such a celebrated feature, and how it went from terrible to terrifying due to the hard work of those that stuck by it.
What medical condition did you have that you didn’t even know was a problem?
Yes. I was in my early 50s and woke up one morning with a nagging ache in my left arm. I went to work and commented that I must have slept wrong. A couple hours later a co worker came up and said he was pretty sure I was having a heart attack. I laughed, no, just a stiff muscle.
An hour later he came over and told me I needed medical care. I argued and he said I should try one of his nitro tablets. If I wasn’t having a heart attack it wouldn’t hurt me, but if I was having a heart attack the pain would go away.
Now I have never taken someone else’s prescription meds in my life, and have no idea why I did then, but I agreed to try the nitro.
The pain disappeared almost immediately but came back twice as bad a few minutes later.
I drove myself to the hospital and was in an ambulance being transferred three hours away shortly. I was having a heart attack.
An angiogram and a stent and I thought everything was good.
Two weeks later I was back in an ambulance heading back to the hospital to repeat the procedures.
Two weeks later it was the middle of December and I had my post-op checkup.
My mom and I hadn’t finished Christmas shopping yet, and this was a trip to a place with lots of shopping available, so we went early in the morning, shopped for hours and I went to see the cardiologist.
He showed me the pictures from my most recent angiogram and said everything looked perfect, then he asked how I was doing.
I said I felt great, just a little short of breath when I went outside, but it was way below 0 Fahrenheit so I though it was to be expected. The cardiologist told me I was too young to be having problems and he wanted to schedule another angiogram for the next morning. I talked to my mom, told her I didn’t see any need to go through this again, but she encouraged me to go ahead with the procedure so we could all enjoy the holidays.
So, we checked into a hotel for the night and got a shuttle to the hospital in the morning.
When I woke up in recovery, my mom was sitting with me crying. A strange man I had never seen before walked in and in broken English said, “You have triple bypass in five days.”
I was shocked and asked why. He said we had to wait five days to get the blood thinners out of my system.
Now, my mom doesn’t drive in winter and it was snowing. I had lots of kids at home and I wasn’t ready for Christmas so I asked when I needed to be back at the hospital. I knew my insurance wouldn’t cover 5 days lying in a hospital bed getting no treatment, so I figured I’d drive mom home, finish decorating, wrap the last presents and for back for the surgery.
He looked at me and said, “What you don’t understand. You leave, you die. “
I still expected to be discharged because I felt fine and I KNEW insurance wouldn’t cover all those days of lyng around.
Insurance approved the doctor’s orders.
That’s when I realized I was really having a problem.
I still don’t understand exactly what happened, but somehow in the two weeks after the angiogram I went from basically no blockage to what they call the widow maker.
Apparently I was lucky to live through the shopping trip.
So I had triple bypass surgery Christmas Eve, and we celebrated late that year.
Interstellar – 1950’s Super Panavision 70
What was the quickest court case you’ve ever witnessed?
I was on the other side of most of the answers here. In the jurisdiction I worked, we had an issue with people blowing by stopped school buses with their lights on. To combat this, there were grants provided to the police department to pay for overtime to officers to cover some of the bus stops. On occasion, I would sign up for these details and monitor the buses and bus stops that were loading and offloading children. There were several of these details over the period of several months.
During this time, I wrote several citations. These citations carry a pretty hefty fine and several points…so most people will take these to court.
Even though I wrote a lot of these citations on different dates at different times, several came up on the same court date and I was subpoenaed to attend. The judge made his way through the docket and eventually it was our turn.
The first guy up tells the judge he wants to plead guilty but with an explanation (this is one of the things people can plea to here). He explained that he was driving along and initially did not see the school bus at all. It was after he passed going the opposite direction that he saw he had passed the bus. He explained there was a large trash truck that blocked his view at first and when he saw the bus, it was too late. The judge asked me if there was a trash truck passing nearby as well. I acknowledged there was a trash truck that was slightly ahead of and in the next lane of the driver. Judge tells the guy he’s changing it from a plea to a not guilty and dismissed it.
Second guy gets called up and the judge asks the driver how he wants to plea. He just saw what happened and said “Not guilty because of a trash truck”. Before I can even tell the judge this was on another date, time, location, and there was no trash truck, the judge says “Not guilty” and calls the third case. Judge says “Let me guess….a school bus with a trash truck?” Before either me or the other guy can say a thing, Judge says “Not Guilty…next case”. Next person comes up who was stopped for a completely different violation and not part of the bus detail steps up and the judge just says “Not Guilty”. I just walked away shaking my head.
This particular judge isn’t normally like this and he later told me that he hates those overtime details because of how they are funded (through grants) and cost the taxpayers more. His gripe wasn’t with me or the citations that I issued. It is what it is I suppose.
Shorpy
How successful do female police officers tend to be at arresting men, either alone or with another female officer?
Originally Answered: How successful do female police officers tend to be at arresting men?
“How successful do female police officers tend to be at arresting men?”
Ooh, I have a great war story for this one! Early in my career I was backing up a city officer on a traffic stop. In fact, there were three of us cops there, all men, all pretty decent size. The suspect, it turns out, was drunk and needed to go to jail. He had a child in the car as well.
So, this suspect was. . .really big. Not fat. Big. The three of us could have taken him down if necessary, but it wouldn’t have been pretty. Also, his kid was still there, in the car. Who wants to beat up dad in front of his kid, even if he is a stupid drunk?
Anyhow, the three of us were standing in a semi-circle around the guy, with him backed up against his truck. We were doing the cop thing were we try to keep a balance between the “carrots” (just come with us and we don’t have to fight) and the “sticks” (if we have to fight, we’re going to all three gang up and pound you). Usually, that routine works like a charm, no pounding necessary. It wasn’t working this time though.
This guy was getting more and more scared. More and more mad. More and more ready to fight to the finish.
So, all tricks failing, we were starting to exchange glances with one another, getting ready to dive in and try to pin this guy down and handcuff him. Just then, another squad car pulls up. Out steps a female deputy. It took about 10 seconds for her to take in the situation, figure out what was going on, and notice the kid in the drunk’s car.
She lit into that guy. I mean, she absolutely chewed his ass up one side and down the other, calling him every name you can imagine, and some you can’t, to describe a cretin stupid enough to drive drunk with a kid in the car. The whole time, she modulated her high-pitched voice to sound as much like a stereotypical “nagging woman” as possible. She went on and on and on, calling the guy names, calling his parentage into question. Honestly, I started to feel embarrassed for the guy.
When she first started her tirade, us three guys had instinctively put ourselves between her and this drunk. A punch to her face would be much more likely to cause serious damage than a punch to our faces. As she continued to verbally rip his guts out, we sort of instinctively backed off. I didn’t realize it until afterwards when I recalled the scene, but as she went on and on, us three guys just sort of naturally and unconsciously drifted back until she was between the suspect and us. I even remember one of the other cops ending up staring at the ground and sort of idly scuffing the road with his foot, exactly like a kid watching his friend getting chewed out by mom.
Now, before that female deputy’s arrival, I’m pretty sure the guy was in such a state that he would have punched me right in the mouth if I had called him just one of the names she used. However, he just stood there and took it from her. As she went on and on and on, somehow never even pausing to breathe, his head started to droop, his shoulders started to sag, and then. . .I saw a small shudder.
What?
You must be kidding me!
Yes. It was true. This big, big drunk man who was seconds away from fighting three big cops had been reduced to tears by a female cop who did her best nagging woman routine. He was absolutely crushed. She ordered him to go see one of the male officers to be searched, and he did it meekly. Then she ordered him into her squad car. Didn’t even bother to handcuff him.
He sat in the back of that car and just cried the entire time while we waited for his wife to come pick up the kid and a for a tow truck to come pick up the car. By the time he was hauled off to jail, us male cops were acting sort of embarrassed and apologetic toward him. You know how it is, kind of hard to make eye contact because you feel so bad for the guy.
Everybody who wants to be a cop, male or female, has to figure out how to arrest uncooperative people who have the ability to beat them senseless. I’m not a small guy, but I occasionally still come up against people who could, without a doubt, beat me like I was a child. Does anyone think a guy who has been doing hands-on construction work all day, every day, for 10 years isn’t stronger than a cop who gets his muscles in a gym? You learn ways to deal with it. Female officers are no different. They just have to face a higher percentage of people who could beat them.
Are medical emergency staff people taught to walk calmly when going to the scene to rescue the person? I noticed that they don’t run.
When I was a brand new emt, I ran exactly once.
I tripped on a pothole and sprained my ankle badly. I was left behind by the crew as they had a more seriously ill patient to tend to. They did toss me a cold pack, with a look of disgust I will never forget. A supervisor eventually came for me, also with that look, and drove me to the emergency department. He advised me he would clock me out, to find my own way home, he was taking me off the months schedule and let them know when I had medical clearance to work again to call them, maybe they will have an opening.
When I was able to return, two months later, I was given granny runs for quite a while. When finally put back on emergency runs, it was with their best/worst trainer, Mr. Marty Ward. It says a lot that I still remember his name. He was and still is a very experienced, extremely knowledgeable, no bullshit kind of guy. He is the reason I eventually became a good paramedic.
You don’t run because if you hurt yourself you are useless . You don’t run because you need to take in the scene. Is it safe. How many victims. What’s your mechanism of injury. Where’s your nearest exit. What’s the crowd like. Where should you put your supplies.
They only look like they are casually walking, when in fact they are working all the time. Twenty years later I still survey my surroundings.
And if you ever do see one running and they are first on the scene, good bet they are brand new with a lot to learn. I’ll wait for the guy walking, thanks.
Deep Space Nein
Submitted into Contest #24 in response to: Write a story set in the dark recesses of space where the two main characters are often at odds with each other in humorous and comedic ways.… view prompt
Chad Lehrmann
Floating.
In the capsule.
“FINE- HERE IT COMES!”
Bert pulled back his fist for an epic haymaker, and Karl prepared his fist for an equally devastating uppercut. Both men threw their hardest punch at each other and–
Well, they are floating weightless in space, so, since they were about five feet apart when this started, it will take a minute for the punches to drift together. So. Let’s take a look at how we got here.
Bert and Karl both signed up for a new International Space Hub mission to the dark side of the moon. It was a chance for these two brilliant scientists- who on paper were a perfect fit for each other to do important scientific work for the betterment of humanity.
Or something like that.
It was a photo-op for the newly minted International Space Hub to show it was A) actually international despite being headquartered in Florida and B) capable of actually getting into space.
Their first seven rockets had not gotten so far as the atmosphere- one had literally just fallen off the launchpad. Turns out the boosters were uneven.
While we are at it- Karl and Bert were not so much brilliant scientists as they were looking for a way out of a bad relationship and harboring a mild death wish, respectively. And ISH needed warm, preferably semi-intelligent bodies.
They did match up on paper, though, and when ISH held the press conference it was all smiles, handshakes and bro-hugs. The men laughed and joked about old US and German rivalries and what constituted real football. We should have seen it then, though. There were cracks. Like when Bert made the comment about “only animals eat wet, soggy grass like Germans eat sauerkraut,” and Karl gave the sidest-eye of all side eyes. Or when Karl explained how he hated people- like, all of them- so the loneliness wouldn’t be a factor.
But hey, that’s just cultural differences?
Right?
ISH finally got a rocket to work, and the men went up into space. Bert was silently disappointed they survived, and really, so was Karl’s ex. Now the mission was for a full year, and by the end of day two, there were issues.
In day one, Karl had baked traditional German streusel- and Bert LOVED it. But in day two, Karl walked in to find a situation not at all to his liking.
“Um, Bert. You, you haff left your dirty deeshes out. If you vant me to make you some more streusel, you are going to haff to be more tidy!”
Bert slowly turned his head and cocked his eyebrow. “Say what now? I am a grown man, don’t talk to me like a child. And I may not want anymore of your dry and tasteless streusel,” he said as he secretly stuffed the wrapped up leftovers in his jumpsuit pocket.
Karl made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Ah, you haff misunderstood. I am not saying you are like a child. I am implying zat you are a child. And vun zat does not haff the capacity to appreciate fine German foods.”
“Is this about the sauerkraut line?”
“Maybe….”
The next day, the slippery slope continued.
Literally.
Bert walked in on Karl’ reorganizing the chemical locker. “What are you doing?”
“I am reorganizing the cabinet so zat it makes sense to me.”
“No, you are messing up a good system.”
“You would not know a good system unless it vas named Playstation or Xbox.”
“Ohh! Somebody knows some American cultu-u-ur-ooooo!” Bert’s feet flew out from under him and he crashed down on his back on the sterile, white floor. “Karl, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FREAK DID YOU DO?!?!”
“I cleaned up a spill I found from your beverage last night.”
“Ugh…did you think to put a “wet floor” sign up?”
“Hmmm. Zat would be a good idea for next time. Ooooor, you could clean it up as soon as you make the mess, no?”
Before we go further, let’s check back on our epic throwdown.
Well, they are about a foot closer, mostly due to Bert paddling his other hand in a dog paddle fashion. So, we have more time.
Back and forths on cleaning aside, they managed to get work done. But a peculiar habit of Karl’s emerged.
Talking in his sleep.
At first, it was an irritant. They shared a sleeping quarters, so there was no escaping the noise. Bert would be angry and irritable at breakfast, and invariably, Karl would announce- “I slept like I vas a baby! How did you sleep, Bert?”
Bert would grumble an inappropriate word or two and the day would go on.
Then it got weird.
One night, Bert was already awake from the incoherent mumbling when Karl sat bolt upright in bed and screamed: “GIVE HER ALL ZE CAPITALIST PIGS!” Then he slumped back down and went to bed.
Bert feared bringing it up at breakfast, but after completing a series of tests that morning involving highly combustible (and potentially deadly) chemicals, Bert felt a need to clear the air.
“So, about the sleep talking. Now, I don’t mind, mostly, but last night you screamed ‘GIVE HER ALL ZE CAPITALIST PIGS!’ and I gotta ask- what the ever-loving heck is up with that?”
“I screamed “GIVE HER ALL ZE CAPITALIST PIGS!’ last night? In my sleep?”
“Yes, you screamed, “GIVE HER ALL ZE CAPITALIST PIGS!’ in your sleep.” Last night. Next to my bed. At three in the morning. In the dark.”
“It must haff been a movie I saw vonce. I don’t have any other reason why I– VAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“What? I’m making a freeze dried hot dog.”
“Nein. You are ruining a freeze dried hot dog vith zat, zat, disgusting processed cheese from a can!”
The squelch of the yellow substance leaving the can continued for a second as Bert stared at Karl with dead eyes. “Really? Sauerkraut is delicious but good old American cheese from a can is disgusting?”
“Again, I am sorry. I misspoke. That, that…stuff…is inedible. You are disgusting.”
“Oh yeah! Well how about you tell me to my face?”
This lovely interaction was interrupted by a screeching alarm indicating an evasive maneuver was needed to avoid space trash. They did not speak that day, and went to bed in silence.
Bert woke in the middle of the night to see Karl standing beside his bed staring at him, sleepwalking.
“KAAAARLLL!”
Karl twitched and slurred, “Huh?”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Karl seemed to become aware of his location. “Oh, sorry.” Then he climbed back in bed. That instigated the decision to stagger sleeping schedules.
Time to check back in on the punch- yep. Almost there. Karl is kicking his feet like he’s running in place- should get there soon.
That brings us to the latest- and last inciting incident.
Bert was a slob. This was true in the truest sense of the word. He left clothes everywhere, and he left a trail of crumbs and spills wherever he went. Karl continued to warn him about spilling on the expensive and vital equipment. Bert continued to speak in sign language that engaged one finger.
During one of the shift changes, Karl noticed a dark liquid was covering some of the gravitational control switches. The things that gave them gravity inside the capsule. He began to berate Bert for his messiness and his carelessness when it came to the critical technology they needed to survive.
“I didn’t do it! I swear! You’re the one who insists on beer everyday- not me!”
“Ah, but I am careful to clean up any mess I make. You? You think zat is vat I am here for!”
A small spark shot up behind Karl from the board.
“Well, yeah I leave it for you. It’s the only thing seem capable of doing that we both agree on! So, why don’t you clean it up now!”
“I am done being your maid! And you know what- zat thing I said in my sleep- it vas not from a movie- it was my fantasy of getting rid of you!”
There was a bigger spark.
“Bad news broski- we are stuck together for the rest of the trip!”
“Vat is this ‘broski?’ I am not Russian. I am German you arrogant American!”
“I’m arrogant? I’m arrogant? You self righteous–”
There was a loud pop, a small flame and suddenly they were floating in zero gravity.
“LOOK VAT YOU HAFF DONE, YOU CLUTZ!” screamed a defiant Karl.
And that brings us to the start of the story. Now is as good of a time as any to explain that ISH had really messed up. The black liquid was oil that had seeped up and shorted out the control. In addition, they had pre-programmed the capsule to fly in a certain pattern, but had not actually bothered to confirm that their calculations were correct.
They were not.
In truth, the capsule was well off course, and headed directly for the sun.
Now, that epic punch should be about to happ- Oh!
Yeah, they missed and are trying to turn around to attack again. Maybe you should check back in a month or two.
Maybe they will have it together by then.
Apple Bacon Cinnamon Rolls
Maple, bacon and cinnamon rolls; the ultimate trifecta for your weekend brunch.
Prep: 15 min | Bake 30 min
Ingredients
- 6 Rhodes Cinnamon Rolls or 6 Anytime Cinnamon Rolls, dough thawed but still cold
- 12 pieces fully cooked microwaveable bacon
- 3 large apples, sliced
Instructions
- Unroll each partially thawed cinnamon roll. Twist two unraveled cinnamon rolls together.
- Place the bacon and apple along the twisted rolls and roll them up together.
- Bake according to package instructions.
- Add Rhodes cream cheese frosting while the rolls are still warm.
Poverty NO CHOICE: “Can I show you…?”
What was the quickest court case you’ve ever witnessed?
The one time I went to court over a speeding ticket, there were something like 3 cases before mine. Most took about 10 minutes or so, for the magistrate to ask what happened, ask the city attorney/police if they agreed, about what happened, and so on.
But then we get to the last one just before mine. To set this up, you probably need to know that at the time, they’d recently changed part of Tejon Street in downtown Colorado Springs (where all this took place) from being a 1-way to a 2-way street.
The guy ahead of me started by saying he was very sorry, and just got confused. The judge started to say he was going to reduce the ticket to a minimum charge, but the guy didn’t notice, and instead went on to say he was confused because of the change from 1-way to 2-way street. That probably only took him 10 seconds to say, but the consequences were pretty serious, to say the least.
The judge started to say something about how sympathetic he was for problems caused by the change, but then looked at the ticket again, and said: “Wait a sec…this was a half mile north of where that change happened. Don’t ever lie in my court. Maximum charges, full points on your license, and you get to spend tonight in jail for perjury.”
He never asked the city attorney/police for their side of the story or anything else. Probably less than 2 minutes start to finish.
Not that I desire to wear a “tin foil hat”; but some things are not “adding up”.
The rifle that the shooter used was not an everyday, run of the mill, Walmart special. Nor was it a hunting rifle. It was a military-grade sniper rifle that is extremely expensive.
It’s an AXSR rifle.
The shooter was 20 years old. Heck, when I was $20 years old I couldn’t afford payment on a car, let alone a custom, high end, sniper rifle.
Do you know anyone who has won a lottery? Did the money change them?
One Saturday, I was at work serving lunch to our hard-working engineers and their families as we were in a desperate sprint to finish some software prior to our big annual trade show. We planned this to both recognize the team’s superhuman efforts, and give the engineers some much deserved time to see their loved ones.
A young woman employee approached me and said, “Gerry, I have a problem. Can I talk with you a moment privately?” I said, “Of course,” put down my serving utensils and walked over into a corner away from the crowd. She then said, “I just won $6 million in the lottery, and I don’t know what to do.” (note: this was 1990, so worth more than double that today)
My first reaction was, “This is a good problem!” But then went on to tell her, “Go get your phone number unlisted. Then decide you will do nothing, and I mean nothing important financially for a month or two, at a minimum. Get your bearings. Hire a reputable accountant and law firm. I can recommend a few if you like. And then do nothing. After things have settled down, decide what you want to do with your life, make a plan so that whatever happens that money lasts for the rest of your life. And then, go be happy with your good fortune!”
What I didn’t know, since I had not met her before, was that she was recently divorced and had recently lost 100 pounds. So, here she was: newly single, newly slim and newly rich!
She resigned from our company after a bit, and I lost track of her until we ran into each other in a restaurant a few years later. She told me she had found her passion in motivational speaking, inspiring others to go for their dreams and could not have been happier with her life.
Sometimes, nice things happen to nice people! The money didn’t change her, it revealed her.
The Future of America 2035 …
What is the dark side of being a police officer?
The death of innocence
There are many things an officer will see and experience which will stay with them for life. Here are three scenes that significantly impacted my view of the world.
Scene 1: The murder:
Today, a young gangster saw a rival gang member sitting with his family on his front porch. The two clearly are enemies. This gangster then rides on the back of a motorcycle past the house firing multiple rounds from a semi-automatic handgun at the porch. The gang member on the porch is uninjured, but a bullet strikes his mother in the head and immediately kills this, heavyset church-going woman. This happens right in front of her three other young children.
I’m just reporting in for work when the incident occurs. As the night watch commander, I am directed to respond to the scene and take control.
I arrive and have the scene taped off and secured. I also close the roadway and divert traffic, as it is part of my crime scene. Bullet casings litter the roadway from the gunfire. I have the woman’s body covered with a sheet and have arrangements made to get the children away from their dead mother. Witnesses identify the cyclist and the bike.
Once the immediate decisions are made and later when I review the events in my mind how do I make any sense of this, tragic murder? How do these children deal with what they have just witnessed? For me, the senseless loss of life was never something I could easily distance myself from. Some images like those children with their dead mother, you never forget.
Scene 2: The Innocent:
It’s eight am and I am just starting agency training with a newly hired lateral transfer officer. I get a call in my office that I should head over to the scene of a pedestrian motor vehicle crash. The patrol commander says it will be a good experience for my rookie officer. Upon arrival, I learn that it was a little eight-year-old girl running to catch the school bus because she didn’t want to miss school, and the back wheel of the bus caught the side of the girl’s foot forcing her forward onto the roadway before the buses back tires pass over the child’s head. The child lays in the street while people try to take pictures and seagulls swoop down and pick at her remains. You can’t get these pictures out of your head. You can’t un-see these horrible things, as much as I would like to, you just can’t.
Scene 3: The boy and his father:
I’ve been with several young people just before they died from car crash injuries. Cops are always the first on the scene of the most terrible events. I have seen the terror in a young boy’s eyes while pinned in a car. He was pinned so severely, that even though I told him help was on the way and he would be fine, I think we both knew the truth. I stayed with him for about two minutes before he exhaled making a gurgling sound and passed. He had to be cut out of the car, later that night at the local body shop.
This boy’s father showed up at the scene a few minutes after he died. We had draped a sheet over that part of the car and awaited the arrival of the medical examiner. The father was hysterical, as I probably would have been. It was so hard to experience, seeing this man’s pain.
He wanted very badly to go to the car, and I kept telling him he didn’t want to see his son right now. We had to gently yet physically restrain this father with a bear hug, to stop him from going to the car. I said he could see his son at the hospital. I didn’t want that father to see what I had seen, a crushed and mangled body, barely recognizable which was his son.
I used to say each time I experienced this type of traumatic event a small piece of me died inside. You learn to cope, and you learn to control your emotions at least on the outside. But they are always with you, and I can still see them. This is the darkest side of police work.
She Is Trying To Trap Men Into a Sexual Harassment Case & It’s OBVIOUS
What did your sister do to you that you can never forget?
20 years ago I divorced, and bought a little house where I expected to live out my days. Two years after I moved in, my sister’s relationship ended. She was quite distraught. Her hope was that I would buy a bigger house, closer to her work, and we could live together. I REALLY didn’t want to do this. I talked her into renting an apartment while she decided what she was going to do. She did it and hated it without giving it a chance. She was a basket case and in an effort to save her, I agreed to buy a house and live together. Before we did anything, and knowing she could be a prude, I told her that I had no plans to stop smoking pot and if she had a problem with that it couldn’t work. She said it didn’t bother her at all. So I gave up my house, bought another one, and we both moved in. She was cranky from the beginning. I did everything possible to make her happy. Four months after moving in, my sister announced that as soon as she got her money from her house she was moving out. She was supposed to give me that money as her down payment on the house, and she was supposed to begin making payments. She did neither and I ended up taking a big loss on the house. Not only did my sister screw me over on the money, she told the entire family, including our parents, that she moved out because I smoked pot! I try not to hold a grudge because she’s family, but I’ll never trust her again. I still wish I lived in that house.
Valerian: Pearl Beach (A short Sci-fi Adventure inspired by Luc Besson’s Movie Valerian (2017)
What was the most blatant scam a customer has ever failed to get away with?
Not mine but a friend’s story.
He was called in to varnish the ceiling of an Indian restaurant. The bill came to about £360 (about 25 years ago). Each time he called, the client didn’t have his cheque book or enough cash in the till, etc., etc.
After several months he enrolled the help of a large friend to accompany him and entered the restaurant when it was packed with diners. He was carrying dust sheets, a tin of varnish solvent and a step ladder. He clapped his hands and caught everyone’s attention.
“If you could all cover your meals. I’m here to get my varnish back and the stuff I’m using is toxic.”
He set up the ladder and the owner came running down to my mate asking what he was doing.
“Taking my varnish back – you’ve not paid for it. I’m taking it off.”
He told my mate to come back another time as he didn’t have his cheque book and didn’t have enough cash in the register. Wordlessly, my mate opened the tin of solvent and started to lay out the dust sheets. The owner ran back to the register and magically found the amount my mate was owed.
These Ancient Animals Scarier Than Dinosaurs
While repairing a car, have you ever found something you weren’t supposed to see in it?
Many years ago, I was at work as a police detective and driving down the road. I heard a call go out for a local garage. CDS (drugs) were found in a customer’s car. I was close by so I responded and cancelled the patrol unit (they were busy and this was an easy call to handle).
When I arrived, the owner of the car was there along with the owner or the garage. Turns out, it was actually the owner who found the drugs in the car after having the car serviced and returned to the garage.
When speaking to them, I got the back story. The car had been stolen from the owners house and the owner reported it to the police. After that, a police officer encountered the car, for whatever reason, and attempted to stop the car. The car took off and then a chase was initiated. Ultimately, the car crashed and the occupants bailed out. I don’t recall if they were captured or not.
During the chase and the resulting crash, the car sustained significant damage and was towed from the scene. Once the insurance company did whatever it is they do, the vehicle was released to the owner. The owner then had it towed to the garage for repair.
The repairs were completed and the vehicle owner was contacted, who then went and picked up his car. It was shortly after leaving the garage he made the discovery.
The find? It was a ball….a little bigger than a softball, that was made of crack cocaine. I’ve never seen it sold or transported as a ball and at this point in my career, it was largest slab of crack I had ever seen.
Paycheck to Paycheck on a Six Figure Salary
Law enforcement is at my front door, claiming a 911 call came from my home. Am I required to permit their entry?
Had this happen once a few years ago.
I live way out in the boonies outside town. My property is totaly OFF GRID . I built my home there is no old fashioned land lines, There is very spotty cell service where you are lucky to get 2–3 bars of service while standing on the roof. I have SAT phone and internet service.
I was living alone at the time, one night I heard a car pull up my driveway 2 officers got out came to my porch where I was sitting. They CLAIMED a 911 call came from my home. I explained that there is no phone or service and told them to check thier cell phones. explained that the only phone on the property is my SAT phone. I suggested they check with my neighbors as one of them may have called. They asked to search my home for other persons. I explained I live alone there is no one else. I asked if they were sure they had the correct address they said they were going to search anyways because I am acting nervous and suspicious. I got on my sat phone made a call then grabbed my mic for my CB/HAM radio and asked my neighbor to come over and deal with the two idiot cops. My neighbor is the county sheriff. he showed up and I told him what was happening. he handled the two local PD officers he called into the dispatch about the call and found the two officers had gone to the wrong address. dispatch sent them to an address across town a few miles away and instead of using GPS or a MAP they came down my road. the number on my mailbox was the same but the name of the road was not the one they were looking for.
While the two geniuses were headed to my home a woman on the otherside of town was raped beaten and robbed by an ex husband. He escaped that night cause the two officers went to the wrong street and were arguing with me. The woman survived her injuries spent a week in the hospital, Her ex hubby was caught a month later in another state. I got a visit from the chief of local PD a few days after where he apologized for his officers disturbing me and then said if I had just complied it would be easier. He also told me to never go over his head because the sheriff does not have jurisdiction over the town. I just laughed…… He is as stupid as his officers were.
A short time after the incident my wife and teen children moved in. 2 of my kids have since began working in law enforcement. My youngest child is headed off to college in the fall to become a lawyer.
Will jobs that moved to China be brought back to the US as President Trump promised?
My dad started a small manufacturing firm. His firm needed some small (1/8th HP) electric motors. They have tried very hard to use American suppliers. They found a company in South Dakota that made this type of motor. The company said that they could not guarantee delivery of the motors in a timely manner as they were having trouble finding workers for their plant. They were recruiting in Minneapolis and Omaha for folks to come work in rural South Dakota for $15 per hour. Nobody wanted to. If we are honest with ourselves, the jobs are here, we just don’t like them nor do we want to move where they are. If jobs magically did come back from China, I doubt there would be any Americans to fill them. We would have jobs in America with more undocumented workers from South America doing them. My dad’s company ended up buying motors from China.