Guns and Criminals

What gun control does is prevent law-abiding citizens from their right to protect themselves, family and property. There's also the claim that many criminals get their hands on guns through burglaries. If J.Q. Public is stripped of their firearms, where's a criminal to get his next piece?

Steal it from the cops.

California's Economy

We're facing a downturn in the economy, and there's a big budget deficit. Now we hear that a famous clothing designer owes the state $1.7 million in back taxes. How many other high rollers are out there who also owe on taxes? Do we have to appoint them to public office to flush them out?

Sometimes I swear we live in Denmark.

Miss California 2009

She may have very well lost out because of her non-PC response on her view toward gay marriage. No, I don't know her name, nor did I watch the Miss USA Pageant 2009. I do follow the news however, and saw the video clip with her answer to the question posed by openly gay critic (and panel judge) Perez Hilton. She believes that marriage is an institutional agreement between a man and a woman, and she delivered her answer eloquently. No ers, no uhs, no hesitation or tripping over her tongue.

I admire her candor; the sure bet in the entertainment world would probably have been to go along with the pro-gay union attitude.

Fishy Puns

I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.

Two fish swim into a concrete wall. Then one turns to the other and says, "Dam!"

Puns (11)

I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day, but I couldn't find any.

Can You Stand the Pun (10)?

Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bull before.

Easter Weekend Ride

It was Good Friday yesterday. And like the ones from years past (oh, around 5 years or more?), I showed up at Cricket & Company restaurant on Auburn Boulevard to join other motorcyclists to embark on a day's ride into the foothills. However, this one was met with inclement weather.

When I rode out of my driveway around 7:30am, it was barely a drizzle under cloudy skies. Six miles later it was raining cats and dogs. The previous night's weather forecast predicted this, which was to eventually give way to clearer skies as the day progressed. This it did, but was not enough to keep the group from already ditching the ride before the day even began. There may have been 15 of us who showed up for breakfast with half a dozen of us showing up by motorcycle.

It's just as well; no telling what to expect with the weather up the hill. Twisty canyon roads are less fun when they're rain (and oil) slicked. Or littered with icy patches if cold enough in the shadows.

Today I wanted to make up for miles not covered on Good Friday. I stayed close to home the previous two weekends since coming out of my cast, just in case I had to give my hand a rest. This was going to be my first out-of-town ride in quite some time. Well, I chose a familiar route through Jackson in the Mother Lode; here I lifted my face shield and enjoyed the cool wind against my face, and the smell of... fog. I looked to my left and saw the fog burning off the mountains in the distance (it was just past 10:30am).

I continued along Hwy49 to Angels Camp where I turned off toward Murphys, circling around along Murphys Grade Road back to Angels Camp where I took my lunch break. Afterwards, I doubled back through Jackson (but took some alternate detours) and made another detour through Latrobe and El Dorado Hills. All in all it was a 5-hour outing.

The hand did fine with a bit of discomfort. I'm chalking it up as all a part of the therapy on the road to full recovery (with my ortho doctor's blessing, and a thumbs up from one of the volleyball players who happens to be a hand therapist). I think I may be ready for motorcycle commuting by Monday!

Train Ride From Hell

Light rail can suck.

Not that I am against mass transit, especially that which do not appear to contribute any harmful crap into the atmosphere. But this afternoon's ride home from work was a train ride from hell. A big negative is the clientele who opt to ride the rails, and I'm not talking about the daily commuters who shuttle to and from work just so they can bring home the bacon.

Take for instance the skanky, middle-aged vagrant belting out the chorus by Right Said Fred. I'm too sexy for your party? Yeah, she's so sexy with that bottle in a bag, chugging away at what I suppose is cheap whiskey to keep the music going. And to engage in a verbal confrontation with a woman glued to her cellphone talking about absolutely nothing.

Then along comes a passenger at the next stop. The bum smelled like a walking urinal! Needless to say, having such a sensitive nose I had to bury my face in the denim jacket I wore today.

A voice over the loudspeaker announces that we will be experiencing a slight delay due to faulty brakes. Swell. Sure enough, the smell of burning brakes permeated the car the next time the doors opened; this is perhaps more acceptable than the stench of urine, but the denim mask remains.

Two stops prior to where I was parked, that same voice instructed everyone to move to the first two cars of the train. I was fortunate to find another seat where I wouldn't have to rub shoulders with another passenger. A subsequent and final announcement was that everyone will need to unload and catch the next train to continue their journey. I was just glad that this station was my destination and I could grab my truck and leave.

The delays and reduced speed set me back about 15 minutes on what is normally about a 20 minute ride. Once I regain enough strength in my hand, I look forward to commuting on my motorcycle... it's been a long time coming.