tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6329287659839024912024-03-18T22:49:19.815-06:00The Ultimate Answer to Kings<b>...Is Not a Bullet, But a Belly Laugh!</b>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.comBlogger2626125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-56993560566804973762012-07-06T11:56:00.000-06:002012-07-06T11:56:29.587-06:00The Ultimate Answer to Kings has moved!Please change your links to <a href="http://joelsgulch.com/">joelsgulch.com</a>, as we fulfill what I take to be Blogger's fondest wish and move away.<br />
<br />
There's still some spackling and painting to be done, but from now on the new place is the place. Come visit!Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-21726567703013856952012-07-06T09:08:00.001-06:002012-07-06T09:14:53.312-06:00It's sort of like......a five-year-old asks you to turn on a lamp, and you deliver the crated parts of a nuclear power plant on his lawn. Step One...<br />
<br />
Joelsgulch.com is on-line, but not ready for showtime. I've finally figured out:<br />
*how to load the title pic<br />
*how to import the old blog's contents<br />
<br />
This blog is going on four years old and there are almost 3000 posts, so the importation is taking a long time. I won't know what will actually happen until that process completes. I've still no clue how to set up the sidebar or even how to access the new email address.<br />
<br />
Bear with me. Today was slated for laundry and bread-making, but now it looks like I'll be glued to the keyboard at least while the power lasts. Hopefully it won't cloud up till late. Fortunately I left the 'pooter alone yesterday afternoon, so the batteries are in good shape until the solar panels start giving me some push. I hope to announce the new site today, but it's not the sort of thing where you should take a deep breath and hold it till then. <br />
<br />
I used to be better at this sort of thing, but at my best I was never the guy you wanted maintaining your website.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-30764402952958577022012-07-05T15:24:00.000-06:002012-07-05T15:24:37.769-06:00Hey, Gun Nuts! (You know who you are...)My friend Ian of <a href="http://www.forgottenweapons.com/">Forgotten Weapons</a> is in the process of fulfilling a lifelong dream, the bastard. And he's started a new blog to document his progress. Introducing <a href="http://gunlab.net/">Gun Lab!</a> Not a lot there at present, but his work at FW has proven he can crank out content.<br />
<br />
This guy's gonna end up being remembered as the Elmer Keith of the 21<sup>st</sup> century, you know. And I can say I knew him when.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-7539090101419635532012-07-05T15:18:00.000-06:002012-07-05T15:18:47.102-06:00QoD: "Clearly, you are a terrorist" Edition...<a href="http://classicalvalues.com/2012/07/what-is-required-is-political-compromise/"><blockquote>All we have in politics today is a slave auction. The Democrats want me to slave for government for 150 days a year. The Republicans say that is mean and excessive and offer me a compromise of 140 days this year and only 150 next. They believe in smaller government.</blockquote></a>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-7590739609538240852012-07-05T14:56:00.000-06:002012-07-05T14:56:12.899-06:00That's a week I won't demand a redo on.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA48YYnitMnwOkp1YJhIlraWBB0KLebttL7wCVtGNzlGcsrvr5M_9woUh4Us1lH8g9idBUihDcJNyh8gj4pA_MdZkZ-APQhyphenhyphenIF7ppTiGjfBZKoyKJPKSSireGak9J1RRRX6FyK6ZkylXk/s1600/stuc2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA48YYnitMnwOkp1YJhIlraWBB0KLebttL7wCVtGNzlGcsrvr5M_9woUh4Us1lH8g9idBUihDcJNyh8gj4pA_MdZkZ-APQhyphenhyphenIF7ppTiGjfBZKoyKJPKSSireGak9J1RRRX6FyK6ZkylXk/s400/stuc2.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFxBL9Db9WIOOBUsTU7w0qRg210SBQl_Ee2Wl76CIqk98tY1fY9UVWS3E4t4MR1wNd7Aso-fOV5-9BFEiKa6v_9saV-bdjAFoPMqwWUrEcKxHC9_PniYJHpOcXTCFI2KFMvPEEe1eyZbvF/s1600/stuc1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFxBL9Db9WIOOBUsTU7w0qRg210SBQl_Ee2Wl76CIqk98tY1fY9UVWS3E4t4MR1wNd7Aso-fOV5-9BFEiKa6v_9saV-bdjAFoPMqwWUrEcKxHC9_PniYJHpOcXTCFI2KFMvPEEe1eyZbvF/s400/stuc1.JPG" /></a></div><br />
We didn't quite finish yesterday, so it actually ended up going six days. We got some cracking, alas, but other than that the house looks really good. Much better than concrete grey, anyway.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, as we were both hitting exhaustion/sick of life, my phone started ringing. Some neighbors were having generator trouble and could I drop what I was doing and come help them right F'ing now. (No, but I did come by in the afternoon) and then J&H wanted to know why I hadn't shown up for shit-shoveling (Oops, meant to call and reschedule.) Then we had the first real storm of the monsoon, a terrific thunderboomer followed by three and a half hours of solid soaky rain. Crazy day.<br />
<br />
Now it's done. Landlady's on her way home, the shit-shoveling's caught up with, the boys have been released from Gitmo upon military tribunal, and I'm going to crash. Crash!Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-57243340157958258242012-07-04T07:34:00.000-06:002012-07-04T07:34:08.977-06:00WhimperToday's the last day of stuccoing. The Final Effort. The Big Push.<br />
<br />
The last gasp.<br />
<br />
I have no skin on the fingertips of my left hand, as the lime is finally having its way with me. We're almost out of those contemptible "rubber" gloves that split their whole lengths at the slightest effort and seem to hold moisture in rather than out. But today I must find gloves to wear. I'm the mud-mixer, and it simply isn't possible not to wear that shit to the elbows no matter how fastidious I endeavor to remain.<br />
<br />
Looks like we're gonna finish, though, if we can only get through this last day. Landlady kicks ass, and though I'm quite sure that after today she'll never consent to look upon another sack of stucco she missed her true calling. Meadow House is looking good.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-54769885000252339372012-07-03T16:27:00.001-06:002012-07-03T16:37:24.627-06:00"why do you need a shotgun like that???"Because...<br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="265" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xo4nyxo6qu8?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
That's why.<br />
<br />
I like shorties. Last week <a href="http://www.forgottenweapons.com/">Ian</a> and I were out running some errands, and of course we were talking about guns because this was Ian. I told him that, after having opportunities to play with his Krinkov, if I could have just one more gun and it could be anything I wanted I'd want some sort of shorty. Wouldn't be a shotgun, but shorties are just damned nice jeep guns. I love my M1A, but there's no question it's a big, heavy, clumsy club of a rifle and it spends almost all its time in its case. The AK, qualitatively inferior in most ways, hangs loaded on the wall. If I had Ian's shorty, THAT would be on the wall. Most of the advantages of a pistol without the inadequate ammo. Most of the advantages of a rifle without all that length and weight. Illegal unless you pay Uncle Sugar $200 and wait eight months for permission from the principal, neither of which I'm gonna do.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-40352018731519088242012-07-03T16:01:00.000-06:002012-07-03T16:01:14.532-06:00For the record, I love pizza.Only six hours of stuccoing in the hot sun today, and we made serious progress. We have one day left, and it really looks like we'll be able to get all the way around.<br />
<br />
As soon as the tools were clean we loaded into Landlady's little car and went to town. I called the pizza place on the way in. We stopped for propane at the Mexican restaurant, yes, you read that right, and they were busy and it took for freakin' ever and both of us were hot and tired and filthy and slavering for pizza. Finally got that out of the way, picked up the pie, and headed back out to the boonies.<br />
<br />
Forget sex. Forget money. You want to know temptation? Temptation is a half-hour car ride with a hot pizza on your lap.<br />
<br />
Landlady's little house is gonna look really good. Forgot the camera again.<br />
<br />
Bath now. Bath and collapse. Bath and collapse and Patrick O'Brian. More or less in that order.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-38977864410724669652012-07-03T07:01:00.000-06:002012-07-03T07:01:16.671-06:00That whizzing noise over your head, Mr. Keller?That was the point of our objection.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/02/opinion/keller-show-me-your-papers.html?_r=1">The "Show me your papers" Arizona decision is odious. Yes it is, but only because it discriminates. We should do it to everybody instead, and then everything will be all right.</a><br />
<br />
I'll trust Chucky Schumer to protect my privacy when ... um ... Actually I can't imagine ever trusting him to get a pizza order right.<br />
<br />
H/T to <a href="http://www.backwoodshome.com/blogs/ClaireWolfe/2012/07/03/tuesday-links-6/">Claire</a>.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-42988276027887376192012-07-02T16:18:00.000-06:002012-07-02T16:18:21.290-06:00Day three is in the can.We worked from seven to two, and we still didn't finish the rear wall of the Meadow house. Two days, 1.5 walls and most of the porch to go.<br />
<br />
The way this is working: Landlady hates lifting 90# sacks of stucco, and I hate applying stucco. So we're sticking to our appointed tasks. I mix it all, and she puts it all on the walls. The first two days we had M, but he had to go back to the city this morning.<br />
<br />
I am sunburned. After almost six years here, I'm not easy to sunburn. Landlady's doing most of the work and she's in better shape than I am.<br />
<br />
I wanna be this kid.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/up3SmhUAnRY?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-69232642991174887652012-07-01T15:02:00.000-06:002012-07-01T15:02:16.724-06:00Next to the part where you go home and collapse in a heap...The part of a stucco (or any cement or concrete) job I enjoy most is cleaning up the tools afterward. Just saying.<br />
<br />
We started at seven sharp this morning, and M was the only one of the three of us who wasn't utterly comatose when we knocked off around one. Landlady and I have to do it again tomorrow, and I was kinda sweating how I was going to get my shit-shoveling in there somewhere. Then M offered to come help me with it later this afternoon, getting me off the shit-shoveling hook for tomorrow. With somebody to help haul the damned wagon to the pile, it'll be doable.<br />
<br />
We've got one side of the meadow house done, and most of the front including the nasty bit over the front porch. Pictures later: I forgot my camera at Landlady's house, and I'm not going back to get it.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-38746663817083142512012-06-30T13:38:00.000-06:002012-06-30T13:38:58.917-06:00Look at my new shinies!Some weeks ago I lamented that I'd lost all but one of my good Wilson Combat 1911 magazines, along with my mag pouch.<br />
<br />
This morning I met Landlady, who had a care package from Tam of <a href="http://booksbikesboomsticks.blogspot.com/">View from the Porch</a>. And look what Tam sent me!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANYO7bdpMIDdANt7H89XF8shnNtq_aet7pQSFmdKyee1jRkopMxyXOp8rIjogoTJOB9ZyFgzLmbPC6PIm0AawaEid6HRtfa4ckP0rVD9xtHHDPmo1x-zZZiRvjIzp46m-LvHazk3HUIkR/s1600/mags.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANYO7bdpMIDdANt7H89XF8shnNtq_aet7pQSFmdKyee1jRkopMxyXOp8rIjogoTJOB9ZyFgzLmbPC6PIm0AawaEid6HRtfa4ckP0rVD9xtHHDPmo1x-zZZiRvjIzp46m-LvHazk3HUIkR/s400/mags.JPG" /></a></div><br />
That's one damned expensive care package. Two WC mags just like the ones I lost, a 10-round Chip McCormick, two individual pouches, and one of those scary but infinitely adjustable Blackhawk holsters with the push-button retention.<br />
<br />
Thanks, Tam!<br />
<br />
We've been all morning stuccoing Landlady's house, and as soon as I get cleaned up we're going to town for a hardware/lunch run. I think I'm gonna wear the Blackhawk just because it's so shiny.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-59957619748619699552012-06-29T16:35:00.000-06:002012-06-29T16:35:53.738-06:00High (Desert) Finance: Things work out.Spent the first part of the morning sweating about money. I've got a few things going on, and they all require it, and I ain't got none.<br />
<br />
Looking at my shopping list for regular consumables (food, gasoline, propane, telephone time, ISP) I need to spend about $130 minimum, $80 of it this weekend, and my total cash worth was $66.<br />
<br />
Then the next step in the electrical upgrade - I learned today that my new charge controller would cost $175 with shipping, for which I have a grand total saved of $100. I also need to spend a bunch of money on roofing, wire and conduit for the new power shed, and couldn't even afford a box of frickin' nails to finish the framing.<br />
<br />
The more I pored over this news, the worse it became. It was kind of distressing.<br />
<br />
Then - things worked out. I scored another paying gig for week after next, and that one pays pretty promptly. That should take care of the charge controller. Plus I cut a deal with the guy, who's an Ebay maven, to just go ahead and buy the controller once I've got enough on account with him, so I don't have to worry about delivery time and details. <br />
<br />
Then M and I went into town this morning to do a landfill and grocery run which was on its way to tapping me out. But M spotted this guy with a semi trailer who was buying recyclables. I had those four big old AGM batteries and he had a couple of old swamp coolers, so it was worth a trip back to town. That put another $50 in my pocket, which is enough for propane and maybe some gasoline.<br />
<br />
I scrounged some really good heavy-gauge cable and conduit, so all I need to complete the power shed is fasteners and roofing and I have enough money in my pocket for fasteners (In the entire little town nearest where I live, there is nobody who sells nails. Nobody. So I really need to plan ahead.) <br />
<br />
Still dunno what I'm going to do about roofing, but it'll work out. Because if you keep your eyes open to possibilities, things have a way of doing that. It's a weird life sometimes, but not a bad one.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-86986492402660876462012-06-29T16:01:00.000-06:002012-06-29T16:01:10.074-06:00The "Individual Mandate" explained...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2kcyONOdfjG_MTlRwLbx19u3WZLN2hKyI6LXZzOu6yFNI8JP5xnmX3x6VCYk_ePBbqp2S7aeUVgezWR_j_yLHixrdg16YnFTQKPVo5YZo1piSm9QlWukl0WCmpHqkasTpXUM2wxxduu3/s1600/mandatedummies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="345" width="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2kcyONOdfjG_MTlRwLbx19u3WZLN2hKyI6LXZzOu6yFNI8JP5xnmX3x6VCYk_ePBbqp2S7aeUVgezWR_j_yLHixrdg16YnFTQKPVo5YZo1piSm9QlWukl0WCmpHqkasTpXUM2wxxduu3/s400/mandatedummies.jpg" /></a></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-32203052303050472782012-06-29T09:08:00.003-06:002012-06-29T09:45:39.798-06:00"The crack about North Korea was sort of funny..."Since hearing about it in <a href="http://theultimateanswertokings.blogspot.com/2012/02/if-there-had-been-no-nazis.html">February</a>, I've really looked forward to any chance to watch <i>Iron Sky</i>.<br />
<br />
Last night I finally got my chance. (People who like to argue about IP: Please don't ask how.) And all I can say is, "You had Moon Nazis going for you. You even had Sarah Palin as president. How could you - how could <i>anyone</i> - possibly screw up a satire with those advantages? I'm almost impressed."<br />
<br />
Never has a film fallen so flat with me. I've seen <i>ED WOOD</i> flicks I enjoyed more than this. Disjointed plot, characters doing absurd things for opaque reasons when they had any reasons at all, dialogue I wouldn't wish on a hated enemy. Note to Scriptwriters: Absurdity is certainly permissible in a satire, but it has to make some sort of internal sense or at least be explained away. Otherwise, viewers like me will be too busy crossing their arms and fuming about how much you suck to have any energy left for following the movie. There actually were a couple of gags that I would have found funny, but by the time they came up I was already grinding my teeth and the film dashed right past them anyway.<br />
<br />
It's just...flat. I watched the writers pass over one opportunity to be funny after another - it was almost as if that was the <i>point</i>. You'd think, in such a no-budget film, that the biggest problem would be the actors but some of them weren't completely terrible. They just had nothing whatsoever to work with. Even the computer graphics weren't <i>totally</i> awful, which means the production crew could have dwelt on space battles to liven things up in post. They apparently didn't think it was very important. The editing took a story that probably didn't make a lot of sense initially and jumbled it up as if the editors had just spilled reels on film on the floor and couldn't be bothered to sort them out before splicing them together any which way. Even the sound mixing was bad, which meant difficulty in trying to follow the dialogue added to the annoyance of learning that any such effort was usually pointless anyway.<br />
<br />
I truly thought a movie about Moon Nazis would necessarily fall into one of two categories: Really good, or so campy bad it's good. No other alternative seemed possible. How can you screw up Moon Nazis?<br />
<br />
Well, it can be done. If you don't believe me, go find a copy and watch. The only bit of encouragement I can offer is that it isn't extremely long.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="265" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Py_IndUbcxc?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-41974169554280119912012-06-28T13:31:00.000-06:002012-06-28T13:31:08.918-06:00I still don't know if it's a tax or a fine...But I do know I'm <a href="http://blog.independent.org/2012/06/28/obamacare-those-dirty-rotten-taxes/">one "3-a-day" closer</a> to finding out what the inside of a federal prison looks like. I appreciate the .gov's help sorting out my accommodations.<br />
<br />
H/T to <a href="http://www.backwoodshome.com/blogs/ClaireWolfe/2012/06/28/responses-to-the-nazgul/">Claire</a> who - if I know Claire - has dedicated the rest of the day to fondling a certain non-automotive Daewoo.<br />
<br />
Oh! And I am now ready to make a political prediction, something I normally avoid. If Mitt the Wonder Romney wins the election, the very first thing he will do will <b>not</b> be to repeal Obamacare. Nor will it be the second thing, or the twelfth,... We're stuck with it till hospitals have nothing left to bind wounds with but bundles of $1,000,000,000 NewDollar notes.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-48311775326481432412012-06-28T10:45:00.001-06:002012-06-28T10:45:40.717-06:00The unintended lessons of government...Submitted without further comment...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXWPOjVyLtRX7kus2r-CAmEyxImu5L2DX3hbnSk5g0FB8Hix_aD1bngHCWLseUUNsdciBBTJg0NcmzdIdXml0Ywr3v2wWwMEyv8cld-Zu2J-QtkdlNlbDpwxFlCiRbkHdQiAJT72ye4dC/s1600/newspaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXWPOjVyLtRX7kus2r-CAmEyxImu5L2DX3hbnSk5g0FB8Hix_aD1bngHCWLseUUNsdciBBTJg0NcmzdIdXml0Ywr3v2wWwMEyv8cld-Zu2J-QtkdlNlbDpwxFlCiRbkHdQiAJT72ye4dC/s400/newspaper.jpg" /></a></div><br />
H/T to Landlady.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-4875503181829430962012-06-26T09:13:00.001-06:002012-06-26T09:16:44.740-06:00Just a breath of fresh air...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKJmPVQ_96mgI1BVfbA5_Lc8byKTrgbpciXkIyOsZ4dWhAyNtyZwAImW2V6P711DM-0_kp1LNrbaAeJ9-Q8Arf0HsJTKFU2n74k89SjBaduTYK7NwIb7L-AwpPtZqoGwB1jEiNxfsOatZ/s1600/door.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKJmPVQ_96mgI1BVfbA5_Lc8byKTrgbpciXkIyOsZ4dWhAyNtyZwAImW2V6P711DM-0_kp1LNrbaAeJ9-Q8Arf0HsJTKFU2n74k89SjBaduTYK7NwIb7L-AwpPtZqoGwB1jEiNxfsOatZ/s400/door.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
Click: Little Bear, Dear, you're blocking Mommy's door.<br />
<br />
LB: You're not using it.<br />
<br />
Click: But Mommy might want to, and where would we be then?<br />
<br />
LB: It smells better outdoors.<br />
<br />
Click (huffily): I BEG your pardon?<br />
<br />
LB: Interesting, I mean! More interesting.<br />
<br />
Click: Hmph.<br />
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LB: I think I smell a heffalump...Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-79902763065137732402012-06-26T07:48:00.002-06:002012-06-26T11:13:50.900-06:00Paddle faster, I hear banjos!I am reminded of a story M told a few weeks ago, sitting around the dinner table at the beautifully hand-crafted home of our weekender neighbors S&L. Landlady was there, and some of M's family, and D&L, and we were getting pleasantly plastered on some really good scotch S had opened for the occasion, and the conversation had reached that point where a person might get howls of laughter by reading the phone book aloud if he did it well, and we probably should have gone home.<br />
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It was the summer of 2009. I can place it exactly because that was the summer we spent putting up M's Dome and it's sort of fixed in my memory. M, Claire and I were having lunch together under the breezy overhang of Landlady's barn. That spot gives you a good view of the neighboring ridge, along which runs the road to M's Dome, and that's how M happened to spot the black minivan.<br />
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We don't get many minivans out here and that would have drawn M's eye anyway, but this one was acting oddly. It moved forward slowly, stopped, went backward, slowly progressed again. Somebody was looking for something, on a road where nobody but us had any earthly business being in the first place. M thought it was suddenly a nice time to take a walk, and I didn't disagree.<br />
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It was a hot day and we'd been working all morning so neither of us was exactly dressed for an evening at the casino. M's a <a href="http://www.forgottenweapons.com/">good-looking young man</a> and never seems to sweat, so he wasn't so bad: He was dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt, with a nice skateboard-taped wonder-nine. I was grubbier and smellier even than usual, with my usual faded camo, scraggly beard, t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, and the continent's ugliest AK47. Down the slope, across the wash, up the slope, look for the road.<br />
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When we found the (shiny, rented) minivan it was parked and empty. Tracks led off to the left, toward the cliff. We followed at our leisure and soon spotted a man and woman wandering rather aimlessly near the cliff. They were early middle age, well-dressed, and looked profoundly misplaced. The woman was carrying a purse dog of some sort and the man had - something small - on a leash. M suggested that I stay back in the junipers while he approached them. In hindsight I think he meant I should not approach them at all, but I could be wrong.<br />
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Anyway, he broke cover and approached the couple. Conversation ensued; I couldn't hear what they were saying over the shrill yapping of the two little dogs. Little Bear was still a pup at the time and unusually obedient, so he stayed with me. It wasn't much of a confrontation. The woman seemed friendly enough to M, but the man kept his distance.<br />
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I watched this for a while and figured, well, if they had absorbed M's presence it was time for them to get a load of me. When I approached the whole dynamic changed. What had been a fairly friendly encounter in the boonies quickly degenerated with a big assist from Little Bear who decided that whatever that thing on the leash was, he could take it.<br />
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I never did firmly identify the thing on the leash. If you let Andy Warhol design a pit bull terrier it would probably look a lot like this little dog. It was pugnacious and terrified and very loud. The man on the other end of the leash never said a word but clearly radiated the desire to be a million miles elsewhere in any direction. The woman was actually pretty cool about the whole thing. I slung the AK, walked up and said hi, then didn't say anything more because the dogs were making so much noise I was kind of in overload and couldn't have followed a conversation in any case. <br />
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M and the woman talked - or, well, kind of shouted - and it turns out she had bought this parcel of desert land online years ago and had never actually seen it so she had taken the opportunity of a road trip to drag her resisting husband out here. They lived in New York, and what she'd been thinking when she bought the parcel I really couldn't say but it was clear she had not consulted hubby. He wasn't getting into the spirit of the thing at all, in fact if I had to guess I'd say he was wondering if they were all going to escape unscathed.<br />
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We finally said our goodbyes and headed back into the brush. When we got back to Claire M chirped, "You know anybody looking for land? There's a parcel about to come up for sale."<br />
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But the upshot came a few weeks later. This couple hung around the nearest town for a couple days, made some acquaintances, had some further conversations in a less disturbing if still somewhat rustic setting. And it turns out that, while hubby wanted to go back to civilization <i>right frickin' now</i> and never again stray from pavement and bistros and Officer Friendly, the woman thought the whole thing was pretty cool. The notion that armed residents would actually respond to the presence of nosy strangers and find out for themselves what they were doing there, well, she thought that was appropriate and rather empowering. She liked the idea of living in such a place. The man thought he'd fallen into a <i>Deliverance</i> remake, and on the spot he devoted the rest of his life to learning to cope with the disturbing memory.<br />
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Of course having come in peace, neither of them were ever in the slightest danger - at least not from us. I do get an occasional kick out of thinking back on their widely-different perceptions of what, to us, was a perfectly normal way to greet strangers and determine their intentions.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-87117974451525140962012-06-25T18:25:00.000-06:002012-06-25T18:25:44.025-06:00If I should die before I wake......at least I lived to witness the supreme irony.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBO_uit611Ngq4pIeUP3aLJfZF2h1N_RkqxKc3U02WOC8EZEiJnBNZhYaPoi_aiSaTKWcLE81ulEyTXTNnmW_mpK-yHfdBDr6zYhpjArc8dTBRALwnRYCQ5egQAHJN3A5L9KEn2tnFsN9b/s1600/marxmc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="243" width="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBO_uit611Ngq4pIeUP3aLJfZF2h1N_RkqxKc3U02WOC8EZEiJnBNZhYaPoi_aiSaTKWcLE81ulEyTXTNnmW_mpK-yHfdBDr6zYhpjArc8dTBRALwnRYCQ5egQAHJN3A5L9KEn2tnFsN9b/s400/marxmc.jpg" /></a><br />
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Carl Marx on a credit card. I'm not exactly sure what it says, but it's gotta say something.<br />
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Who's in <i>your</i> wallet?Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-52401312933024262232012-06-25T06:43:00.003-06:002012-06-25T06:44:34.226-06:00joelsgulch.comWoke to an email from one of my benefactors. Joelsgulch.com has been registered as the blog's new domain. Might not be much longer.<br />
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I forget who first suggested that name, but I thought it was pretty cool.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-25828868879069821872012-06-24T17:59:00.000-06:002012-06-24T17:59:31.971-06:00Monsoon arrives...Three days of very hot, no breeze. Then yesterday afternoon the storm clouds came and meant it. That's the first good rain we've had in almost a year. Last year's monsoon was paltry and it hardly snowed at all in the winter. Yesterday we got a good pounding for almost an hour, then nothing for a while, then it gave us some more and cleared up just before full dark. It's clouding up again now but I don't think there's any rain in it. Still hopefully we'll have a good soak - not enough to wash away the Lair or any of its outriders, but good. I want to see flood water rush past the Lair, not under or through it.<br />
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For those who weren't around the blog when I built the Lair: It's not <i>exactly</i> right on a flood plain, but it is on pretty low ground. I'm on a meadow thirty or forty yards from a big wash and maybe ten feet above it. The wash is deep, and this plain doesn't look like it's been scoured by water in the memory of man but there is a gully behind the cabin that has caused me some thought. Outflow from the fully has jumped its channel at least once since I've been here. Since the cabin was built I've revised, straightened and deepened the channel and that worked the one time I've seen the gully run but it wasn't much of a run. In case the channel and berm don't keep the water polite, I'll just let the water go where it wants. The Lair's on nine concrete piers set on deep concrete pads, so the worst a flood could do is make a muddy mess. I'm much more afraid of fire.<br />
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Even down here, the greatest danger isn't flood but lightning. I don't worry about it much because there's so much high ground on all sides, but it's never far from my mind in a storm. My neighbors who built on ridges get lightning-struck often, and after taking some damage two of them spent big bux on lightning protection. They haven't suffered any damage since. Materials like that, I've been keeping my eyes open for.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xr-yrFt1AaS9g_y7-Dk2a0yhXfw_W987XDxvpdN4PREeQWgnjuDngT7T7w8BfOsqdUJjNIOj1tpvnSIyupDWXwQ21mRy3Qk92C3lOte2n3NBjDeGFtzJHuERP4bm_NEhkQnVd9HSFmHj/s1600/shed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xr-yrFt1AaS9g_y7-Dk2a0yhXfw_W987XDxvpdN4PREeQWgnjuDngT7T7w8BfOsqdUJjNIOj1tpvnSIyupDWXwQ21mRy3Qk92C3lOte2n3NBjDeGFtzJHuERP4bm_NEhkQnVd9HSFmHj/s400/shed.JPG" /></a><br />
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Meanwhile, work on the new power/storage shed has come to a halt due to lack of materials. Framing for three walls has run me completely out of 2X4s. Y'know, it's a little ironic for a guy who's not exactly tied to materialism to have to say this, but <b>I Need More Stuff</b>.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-22718537084337299202012-06-23T07:33:00.000-06:002012-06-23T07:33:13.903-06:00Being president is apparently very dangerous.But are you really afraid your supporters will rise up <i>en masse</i> and attack you with their dinner forks? Because I gotta tell you...<br />
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<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2012/06/obama-forks-naleo-secret-service.html">President Obama Can’t Be in the Same Room As Forks Anymore?</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi060vPp_Bu6Z8mYekpbYpzjEBcoMqt2NxLTM7BLboDsEwyCgQsCBndHRM8S-CMNhCNUScIURUfkwU4NlM62tom-RGuHGMwIsMwGHuj1mPaBr02RFmBCYO5v6H762ZgySZVL6WtRrQQWkrz/s1600/a_560x375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="268" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi060vPp_Bu6Z8mYekpbYpzjEBcoMqt2NxLTM7BLboDsEwyCgQsCBndHRM8S-CMNhCNUScIURUfkwU4NlM62tom-RGuHGMwIsMwGHuj1mPaBr02RFmBCYO5v6H762ZgySZVL6WtRrQQWkrz/s400/a_560x375.jpg" /></a><br />
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...I'd quit that job right frickin' now, were it me.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-85491962326556311452012-06-23T07:19:00.002-06:002012-06-23T07:19:20.106-06:00Introducing, for your zombie-shooting pleasure...The AR-15 Shark-Jumper 2012!<br />
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<iframe width="420" height="265" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Nhc7YSuepNE?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-632928765983902491.post-69412907464755400072012-06-22T12:37:00.000-06:002012-06-22T12:37:03.995-06:00Hot.Oh, man. It's been kinda hot for the past couple of weeks, but nothing really worth complaining about and we always had a nice evening breeze to cool things down for sleeping. Now it's 11:30, I just finished three and a half hours raking, shit-shoveling, trailer-emptying and tree-watering in the hot sun, and I come home to find it's 94 degrees INDOORS. By high desert standards that's hot. The work schedule says I should be baking bread but that's not going to happen. Afternoon playing on the 'pooter is now truncated by the overheat fan going on in the inverter. That never used to happen.<br />
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There's cold beer in Landlady's fridge, courtesy of M. Think I'll go see if it's lonely.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03442354270552212335noreply@blogger.com2