Tablemeat comes through.

The weather in Hazen was perfect for hunting yesterday, so The Commander and Kadizzle set out to put some meat in the pot. My old shotgun was named Table Meat. When the old gun died the new one inherited the name.  Kadizzle would rather make one difficult shot than three easy ones.  My favorite shot is when the bird flies out of the tree row high overhead right towards you.  The trick is to shoot slightly ahead.  The other day the classic dilemma came up.  Mr. Pheasant in his infinite wisdom got up on the wrong side of the bush.  Kadizzle saw a hole through the bush about the size of a dinner plate.  Table Meat blasted through the hole and put the meat on the table.

Yesterday Kadizzle saw a rooster sitting by the road as he was driving to the hunting ground.  Thinking he might pop the guy Kadizzle stopped and quickly found a malfunction with the gun.  In order to shoot Kadizzle had to disassemble the gun and put it back together.  Rarely will a bird sit ten yards away and wait while you rebuild your gun. This was a very sporting pheasant.  Kadizzle finally got the gun ready jumped out of the truck and yelled " I am ready now".   The pheasant took to the air and Kadizzle sent him to the Muslim pheasant heaven so Mr. Pheasant could have 28 virgin pheasants at his disposal.  It worked out for everyone.

It is a big canvass

Kadizzle had some plans for his new tattoo, but they did not all work out.  The plan was to use the bellybutton as the mouth of a cannon.  However, the artist hired to do the work was not sure how it could be done.  Once we turned Kadizzle over it appeared there was a big orifice that would make an ideal cannon.

To Lazy to complain, Here is a simple answer

Kadizzle gets stuck with nothing to do in Denver, or somewhere else and too many times he turns to fighting the right wing Hoopleheads on the blog sites.

The give and take can be fun, sometimes funny, and sometimes educational. It gives a chance to get into the mind of gun nuts, and right wing fanatics.  On one of these right wing sites there was something suspicious about a guy complaining about Kadizzle.  His complaint seemed like it was computer generated. Kadizzle is familiar with buzz word generators so he thought he would check to see if this was were the long winded diatribe was emanating from.

It turned out to be coming from a rant generator.  Google rant generator and you will find it.  The rant generator will crank out from one to three paragraphs of ranting either at a person or organization.  All you do is type in the person's name or the name of the organization, and there it is a rant.  Kadizzle will cook up a one paragraph rant by putting the name Staunch Republican into the input apparatus.  Lets see what happens.

As you read this letter, you may feel confused at points. If you do, keep reading. The rationale underlying Mr. Staunch Repbulican's expositions is confusing. Fortunately, as you read the superfluity of examples about how Mr. Repbulican has been trying to trample over the very freedoms and rights that he claims to support, this letter will slowly begin to make some sense. Let me get to the crux of the matter: His undertakings have a long and iracund lineage. In particular, they're based upon all of the temperamental devices of the past: spheres of influence, balances of power, secret treaties, triple alliances, and, during the interim periods, appeasement of ethnocentrism.
Of course, I'm generalizing a little here. But that's only because Mr. Repbulican broadens his appeal by seeking influence and adherents in the charlatanism movement. If you'll forgive my parrhesia, I'd like to add that he says that undiscoverable, unmeasurable, magical forces from another plane of existence have given him superhuman wisdom. What he means by this, of course, is that he wants free reign to harvest what others have sown. If some people are offended by my mentioning that each day, I see the world becoming more negligent as a determined Mr. Repbulican carries out his morally questionable plans, then so be it. He's good at one thing, and that's keeping his ulterior motives secret. Only a few initiates in the inner sanctum of Mr. Repbulican's entourage know that he's planning to gum up what were once great ideas. Even fewer of these initiates know that as our society continues to unravel, more and more people will be grasping for straws, grasping for something to hold onto, grasping for something that promises to give them the sense of security and certainty that they so desperately need. These are the sorts of people Mr. Repbulican preys upon.
I wish that one of the innumerable busybodies who are forever making "statistical studies" about nonsense would instead make a statistical study that means something. For example, I'd like to see a statistical study of Mr. Repbulican's capacity to learn the obvious. Also worthwhile would be a statistical study of how many uninformed dimbulbs realize that if we don't do something soon, Mr. Repbulican's slaphappy, lubricious policies will rise like a golem with a million hands on a million throats to choke the honor out of decent, hardworking people. Now that you've heard what I've had to say, I want you to think about it. And I want you to join me and stick to the facts and offer only those arguments that can be supported by those facts.

Bad News for Fat guys

Kadizzle is granpa babysitter in Denver.  Erin will be home tonight and Sylvie will be one happy peanut.  The calories have launched a new war on Kadizzle.  With a lot of new homes popping up around here there is an abundance of Latino workers in the neighborhood.  That means food trucks with Mexican food are roaming the neighborhood looking for victims.  Yesterday Kadizzle had about his third trip to the food truck.  Mind you this was not all on the same day.  The ladies on the truck yesterday hardly spoke an once of English. In fact the only English the lady could say was " I don't speak English".   Kadizzle had no idea what he was buying,  but he bought three for himself and Fran.  It turned out to be some kind of pepper and cheese concoction, and was good.  For $2.50 it was a good deal, fresh and tasty.  If the truck is here to day it will be hard to resist.

When you see these food truck people working hard to make a living you might realize they do not make enough to pay income tax.  Of course in the Republican world that makes them moochers.  Every time I see a service person working hard to make a living I get pissed about Mitt calling them moochers.  A guy with a car elevator who has not had a full time job for eight years and makes 23 million a year insulting working people is a crime.  Kadizzle is sure those moochers get up early and make all that food.  Those moochers provide a good service to the other moochers that are putting up all the houses in the neighborhood.

When I think of the Republican rats trying to carve out tax breaks for the rich Kadizzle always thinks of the woman who worked as a janitor at a black college in the south.  The woman probably paid very low or no taxes her whole life.  When she died she left the college $250,000.   Mitt would have called her a moocher.   It is just a terrible disgrace the way Republicans have insulted working Americans.

Farts never smelled so Good.

Kadizzle's poor daughter Erin has had about five major surgeries.  It all started from an accident playing high school basket ball.  Erin was a terrific athlete.  She won the State Class B hurdle championship and was on the track team that won the state championship five years in a row.

Erin's kidney was split into three pieces from the basketball accident and she nearly bled to death.  The long term effect of her accident has been adhesion's.  The adhesion's make it difficult for food to pass through Erin.

Last Thursday at 4 A.M. in New York Erin went to the Emergency room.  Erin was hospitalized and everyone has been waiting to see if her system would clear without surgery.  The first sign things are turning around is gas, followed by a good fart.  The farts started yesterday and her system got back in gear today.  Knowing the poor kid is not going to have to face surgery is a blessing of major proportion.  Kadizzle has been in Denver babbysitting his poor little Sylvie who misses her mother terribly. Cissie is in New York with Erin.  It will be so exciting for Sylvie to see her mom tomorrow or the next day.

The swing on the porch.

/On the porch of this house where Kadizzle grew up there was a swing.  Many days were spent sitting on that swing watching the world go by.  When the sun would shine on that swing a guy who had just graduated from high school might be able to take a nice nap in the warm glow of the sun. Little did Kadizzle know that on that porch he would take a nap that would shape the rest of his life.

George Madison walked by one day just as Kadizzle was in a pleasant haze on the swing.  "Where are you going George?", Kadizzle inquired.   I am going down the river to the Ireland Mine to apply for a job was George's reply.  "Do you want to go?" he said.  With nothing to do Kadizzle joined George in his hunt for a job at a coal mine.

About thirty miles down the Ohio River Kadizzle stood outside the Ireland Mine office with about ten other people.  Some guy came out and said " All you guys come in here I got to give you a test".  Like a sheep I followed everyone in and sat down.   The person doing the hiring passed out some sort of intelligence test.  Everyone carefully filled out the answers on the timed test.  The guy said pass me all the test.  Kadizzle can still remember the exact words and what happened next.  Mr. hiring guy said as he put the test in neat order  " The company requires me to give you a test, I did",  he threw all the test in the wastebasket without even looking at them.  Next he announced " I told ten people to show up here, and there are eleven people here, someone is here who doesn't belong, who is it?".  Bashfully I raised my hand.  "Well" he said " You are all hired, including you",  as he looked at Kadizzle. 

This was the beginning of Kadizzles coal mining career.  Just about every young guy there had put on his application he wanted summer work.  Kadizzle thought the chances of getting hired would be better if you put on the application you wanted permanent work.  This turned out to be magic.  All the other poor guys ended up with shitty jobs cutting weeds and doing manual labor.  Kadizzle was trained to operate machinery.  At the end of summer with money in his pocket Kadizzle went to college.  The coal company said come back next summer we could sure use you to fill in for people on vacation.  Every summer Kadizzle worked underground and made his way through college.  The rest is coal mining history. 

That summer Kadizzle was on the first coal mining crew in history that ever mined through an old exploded coal mine to get to new coal.  The original mine blew up in 1913 and killed over one hundred miners.

The Jehad between my legs.

Recently old Lord Kadizzle found out he has prostate cancer.  This is not good news.  The prostate is not in an easy place to get to.  So it looks like in November they will dig deep in Kadizzle to cut out his prostate.  Hopefully this will solve the problem.

Like so many Kadizzle always thought of cancer as a problem someone else has.  Things are different now that Kadizzle knows there is Jehad going on in his prostate.  Now cancer research, and cures seem a lot more important. Sure there are are people in other countries that would like to kill us, but the reality is a lot more of us are going to die a miserable death from the cells in our body that are playing the role of Al Quada.

We don't need more drones in Afghanistan, we need drones in our bloodstream.  As the military pisses away billions on a few misguided Muslims we are being assaulted by the food we eat, the chemicals we are exposed to, and the stuff we smoke.

It is not Muslims that are forcing us to cut out our bowls, cut off our women's breast, and pitch my prostate in the garbage.  If we had better health care, better screening, and better imaging, millions of Americans would have better outcomes.

Our country spends more on our military than the next ten countries combined.  If we fought our real enemy like we fight every imagined threat, life would improve for a lot of people.  Dying is something we all have to do. Dying from curable diseases is a choice Americans have to make.  As the election approaches are we going once more allow the military industrial complex to lie to us, cheat us, and piss away our tax dollars, or are we going to spend the money where we could easily save thousands of lives?  Are we going to continue to get thousands of Americans killed in some foreign country because some hopeless politicians have lied to us? We need to identify our real enemies and one of our worst is the military contractors bleeding us blind while we lack health care, roads, schools, decent housing, and dollars for research.  Ask yourself how many close friends you have that have been killed by Al Quada, then ask yourself how many people you know killed by cancer.  Now, ask where is the real threat?

A Windy story for a Windy Day.

Wind turbines have sprouted in North Dakota like giant sunflowers.  Even a hard core green energy person would have to admit they destroy the scenery.  The fossil fuel industry hates the damn things,  so the propaganda blows as strong as the wind is blowing today.

The right wing supporters of the coal industry always like to say wind power does not work.  One of their favorite arguments is that there is no way to store wind power.  Generally speaking there is no way to store any electrical power except with batteries,  but there is a way to store wind power the coal lobby just cannot admit.

In North Dakota on the Missouri River there is a huge dam.  The dam generates a very large amount of electricity.  Water runs through the turbines at the dam and produces hydro power.  The wonderful thing about hydro power is that it can be turned on and off very quickly. You do not have to heat up anything to get more water through the turbines.  On the other hand coal fired plants cannot rapidly change the amount of steam they put through their turbines.

What does this have to do with wind power.  It is pretty straight forward.  On a very windy day in North Dakota like you have right now, you can produce a lot of electricity from wind.  Wind does not create pollution.  Since you are producing electricity with wind you can throttle back the dam.  Guess what?  When you shut down the turbines powered by water at the dam,  the water backs up behind the dam.  Anyone who studied physics 101 knows this is stored power.  When the wind dies down you can release the water from behind the dam and produce electricity. The dam is serving as a giant battery.

The blows to shreds the favorite argument of the coal industry.  However, you will never get anyone to admit to this simple reality.  Instead the coal industry always says you have to have idle capacity of coal fired plants to backup the wind power.

One key to all of this is cooperation between the hydro power and the wind power.  There is none.  Why?  The two sources of power are not synchronize because of politics and stupidity.   Your toaster does not know where it is getting it's electricity.  Toast made with wind power taste just the same as coal fired toast.  However, a coal company does not get to sell as much coal on windy days, and when coal is not burnt CO2 is not produced, nitrous oxide is not put in the air, nor is mercury.  In the name of profit and greed the coal industry will fight and lie about wind power.  They will tell you it does not work.  Somehow it works in Europe, but not here.  In Europe high speed trains work, but not here. Special interest groups make sure the physics in the United States favor coal fired plants and slow trains.

Secret Pheasant places.

Kadizzle took off by himself hunting today.  The first stop was where we usually make the first stop.  Down the fence row by the wheat field Kadizzle could see some pheasants flying ahead of him.  Which side of the fence do you want to be on? The age old question.  Well Kadizzle was on the wrong side, and bushes were between Kadizzle and the birds when they got up. One nothing birds favor.  Now to the other side of the field.  Kadizzle saw the grass move.  Something is in there.  Up she comes. Yup, it was a hen.  The next fellow was not so fortunate. His flight was canceled when a number four went up his exhaust.  There is a reason they call Kadizzle's gun Table Meat.

On to the next spot.  An abandoned farm yard. Always good.  Of course some silly dinger has to shoot by on an ATV scattering the birds in all directions, but it looked as though some had flown in by the house.  The usual honey corner produced nothing, nor did the old yard behind the house, both spots that are usually good.  However, when Kadizzle saw a clump of big weeds he thought " If I were Willy the pheasant, that is where I would be".  Sure enough a bunch busted out.  Another poor fellow got put on the menu.

Next a secret honey spot.  As Kadizzle took the wrong route he became disillusioned.  It looked like the honey spot was dry.  A little tired and considering giving up Kadizzled decided to try some reeds. Pheasants always love to meet for a beer in a reeded area.  Sure enough as Kadizzle approached bird went every direction.  A few long shots to no avail.  A lot of the birds went over the hill.  On the way to give them another treatment Kadizzle saw one fellow sneaking off in the cornfield.  The detour to get him did not pay off.  When Kadizzle got back in the cover birds went everywhere.  This patch has some great potential for another hunt. Making long shots that did little more than clean the barrel left Kadizzle with only one shell.  Kadizzle decided to work back to the truck and only shoot if it was a sure shot.  Birds got up, but no shots were any good, so Kadizzle kept his powder dry.  The last part of the hike to the truck was a fence row.  Kadizzle suspected some of the felons would be in that grass.  Yup, two came out too far ahead to shoot.  So that little adventure was great for viewing a lot of birds, and doing some home work for the future, but it did not put meat on the table.

After a brief trip just to look at Hungry Man's Kadizzle headed to public land.  On the way out of Hungry Man's two roosters were begging to be shot on posted land.  It was a great temtation, but the empty pickup truck in the field was not  a good sign.  Kadizzle did the right thing and drove past the two roosters as they gave him the finger.

On the public land at last Kadizzle thought he was wasting his time because public land gets hunted pretty badly.  On the way in it did not look like the road was beat down, a good sign.  Within fifty yards of the truck Kadizzle stirred up some hens, this was a good sign.   Another fifty yards and some roosters got up on the wrong side of the bushed.  Kadizzle aimed through the bush and shot, thinking what the hell.  It was good fortune for Kadizzle, and bad forrune for the rooster. Somehow the shot made it through the bushes and a nice big rooster met the Pheasant Jesus.  That was three in the sack and time to go home.

Meet you at the Bus St0p

When you are up and moving things are great, but once your body stops, and you try to resume movement, you realize your age.  Yesterday Kadizzle and The Commander had their first pheasant hunt of the season. Hunting down in the promised land near Mott, North Dakota can be very frustrating.  What was once a glorious pass time for peasants has turned into a rich man's sport.  Now the Mott airport runway has a row of jets parked side by side.  Hunting has become something for the rich.  Common people need not apply.  The frustration comes from driving down the road and seeing fields popping with pheasants, but you cannot hunt them.  The birds are being saved for the rich guy willing to pay 500 dollars a day.   Do the math.  You can shoot three birds legally.  That would come out to over 150 bucks per bird, but that is if you don't put in the cost of jet fuel.  Every field is posted and those farmers who have been getting those nice fat farm subsidy checks are now getting one more.

Such is life.  The Commander and Kadizzle drove to a public area set aside for the peasants.  On the way to the peasant area the pheasants were like grasshoppers, but of course the signs all said " These birds are exclusively for the rich".   It is bad enough to give the rich more tax cuts, but to see them get all the pheasants also is a heart breaker.   When Kadizzle and The Commander got to the public area it was picked clean.  All the peasants were packed in the area and every bird had been shot twice. It was hopeless, so we left.

God does smile on Kadizzle so a blessing came.  The night before as luck would have it Kadizzle and The Commander met the guy who ran the great hunting cabal for the terminally wealthy.  The is an outfit call the " Cannon Ball Company".   They are the Arabs of the Pheasants.  They are the sheiks that control the pheasants.  Our friend said that if we had a problem finding a place to hunt let him know.  Kindly he put us on some good land.

After this diversion it is time to get to the bus stop story.  Shooting a pheasant is fun.  Now, Kadizzle is not really into shooting anything.  Kadizzle is a live and let live person and enjoys wildlife.  Kadizzle gets very pissed when some brave North Dakota hunter shoots a mountian lion and thinks it is wonderful. Leave the damn mountain lions alone.

However, keep in mind pheasants are not native to North America, they are from China.  So when Kadizzle hunts pheasants he puts on his Republican hat.  Now the pheasants are Mexicans coming across the border, or Muslims on jihad, and it is all right to shoot them.

Anyone can shoot a pheasant at a short distance.  My brother in law calls them flying box cars.  The real fun for Kadizzle is to make  a good shot.  A good shot means the bird is going across, or coming overhead toward you.  The trick is to shoot ahead of the bird.  Now this is the skill.  The lead and the pheasant have to meet in the sky at a predetermined place.  This is the "bus stop".   Ideally the bus and the pheasant will get to the bus stop at the same time.  Our gracious host set Kadizzle up in the perfect spot to do some bus stop shootin.   Sure enough The Commander and our host stirred up a pheasant.  As the pheasant came flying overhead from North East to Southwest, Kadizzle was standing South .   Kadizzle yelled  " Meet you at the bus stop" and pulled the trigger.  With joy the pheasant met the bus, and Kadizzle was well pleased.  The chicken is in the pot.

Attack of the Potato Heads

One reason Kadizzle likes where he lives is the children in the neighborhood.  Up the street on the North Side are the Potato Heads. There are four Potato Heads.  Last night the oldest boy knocked on the door wanting to sell Kadizzle some popcorn for the Cub Scouts.

The Potato family are great people, but they have a habit of accumulating junk about their house and on the street. The Kadizzles have become frustrated because they parked junk on the boulevard.  Finally they managed to move the old camper and pontoon boat of the public boulevard, but they just cannot manage to get rid of the old blue pickup truck sitting on the street for months.

All of a sudden Kadizzle had a brilliant idea.  Kadizzle told the Potato Head standing at the door Kadizzle would donate $20 if Father Potato head would get the truck off the street before winter set in.  Young Potato was instructed to come back in half hour to collect the cash.  Kadizzle wrote a not to Father Potato about the agreement and put it in an envelope with the money.  Little Potato never returned for the cash.  Kadizzle is puzzled.  Was little Potato confused, did Kadizzle create a diplomatic riff, what happened?  Perhaps today the mystery will be solved.

Care Taker and the Five Million dollar death.

What a year for The Commander.  Kadizzle's little band has four members.  Cheech the great fashion designer in New York City,  Snoocher Bear the mom, and public relations magnate in Denver,  and the two parents.  This year everyone in the family will undergo surgery except The Commander.  The poor Commander will have to nurse back to health two more before Christmas.

Cheech underwent surgery on her sinus's already and has recovered.  The poor old Bear will have a knee operation shortly,  and Kadizzle is scheduled to have his prostate removed.  Three in one year is taxing, but The Commander is as tough as they come.

All this slicing and dicing will undoubtedly cost well over a hundred thousand before it is all over.  Fortunately we are all covered by insurance, but still the out of pocket expenses hit hard.  It is very sad to know that Americans pay twice what any other civilized country does for health care and gets such a poor return.  Yesterday The Commander, and Kadizzle watched a very good program on American Health care on PBS.  The waste in our system is staggering.

The program featured an elderly woman kept alive on life support.  Her case was hopeless and she should have been allowed to die, but her son insisted she be kept alive.  Her final year of life cost a staggering 5 million dollars.  There is no way this cost will be born by her family.  The poor black woman surely did not live a luxurious life.  Society was unwilling to spend money for her education, her health insurance, her housing,  or any of the normal things that make life better,  but incredibly the same society that did not care for as she lived,  spent five million in one year for her to die.

One can only shake their head and wonder what in the hell is wrong with us.  

Truely an Ignorant Bastard

Mr. and Mrs. Kadizzle are now plowing through the Flashman series.  The books are entertaining and so much of Flashman's life is like our typical politician.  Flashman is as phony and big a chicken as ever existed, but he manages to portray himself as a hero.

In his current pickle he has been forced to impersonate the man about to become the King of Denmark.  On his fist night as the fake Carl Gustaf, Flashman decides he can get away with having sex with the chamber maid.  The chamber maid of course thinks Flashman is Carl Gustaf.  After they procreate, this is what Flashman has to say about the event.

"I've sometimes wondered what the result of that encounter was, and if there is some sturdy peasant somewhere in Holstein called Carl who puts on airs in the belief that he can claim royal descent. If there is, he can truly be called an ignorant bastard".

The Morning Report.

If Kadizzle can get his cycle to start he has been taking a morning ride to check the kingdom.  Hazen is on the edge of the oil boom so BNSF is upgrading the rail siding.  When done it will be longer and have heavy steel. This will accommodate 100 car trains so they can pass in Hazen.  All the oil loaded in the famous North Dakota town of Zap can now make it to your gas tank.

Down by the Knife River the the little Riverside park is being revived.  A new shelter is being built and things are looking up. Houses are still sprouting up.  The oil boom has even created a housing shortage this far East of the big goings on. North of town a little road is being up graded to take care of traffic while they fix highway 200 next summer.  The Cenex can now fuel large trucks with high volume diesel pumps.  Between the tow gas stations in town you can get any kind of junk food you need to shorten your life.

The town itself has elected a new city commission full of the worst sort of Tea Party mentality.  Our good city auditor gave up and left.  The right wing dingers are off to a good start wrecking havoc.

The ex mayor put a sidewalk in front of his daughters house on Third Ave.  This is a main street and it is a sad comment that you cannot get from one end to the other with sidewalks because no one has the guts to enforce the ordinance

It appears there may be a decent crop of pheasants.   Lord Kadizzle made a deal with a guy in New York to send him some pheasant feathers, so Kadizzle needs to pop a few.  Today we will probably go to the boat to finish up winterizing the good ship.

Magic Underwear

Albert Einstein said " The world is not stranger than you think, it is stranger than you can think".   The Mormons have proved Einstein correct.  Mormons actually believe in magic underwear.  I wish I was just making this up, but unfortunately we have a man running for president who believes in magic underwear.

Don't take Kadizzles word for it.  If you look up sacred garments you will find some amazing things. You are supposed to keep the garments on all the time.  That means when you go to change garments you are supposed to keep one leg in the garment you are taking off and put one leg in the garment you are putting on.  Some Mormons think they have been saved from fire by the garments.

Flashman

A good lake friend insisted Kadizzle read the story about Flashman pictured above.  Flashman did not have an once of morality, but he was not afraid to capitalize on anyone who thought he did.  Flashman considered himself the ultimate scoundrel.  Reading of Flashman's unending ability to turn every lie, and event to his advantage is refreshing because he freely admits what he is doing.  It would be so nice to know if so many of today's rotten rats know the truth about themselves.  Does Rush Limbaugh laugh to himself when he knows he is manipulating the Hoopleheads?  Does Glenn Beck have a good drink and think how easy it is to make millions with his nonsense?  Mitt revealed what he thought about most Americans when he made his 47% remark.  What if he revealed his real knowledge and how much he really believed in the silly Mormon stuff he claims to believe.  You have to give Flashman credit he at least came clean in his memoirs.

Thank Ya Jesus

Looking backward on how he spent his life Kadizzle is pleased he did not have an office job.  At one point Kadizzle thought he might like being a lawyer.  The Kadizzle family is polluted with lawyers.  The grandfather was a lawyer, three uncles on that side practiced law, two sisters were in the legal game, Kadizzles dad had two years of law school, and Kadizzle's brother in law was a law professor.  So law ran thick in the gang.

Long hours sitting at a desk would have driven Kadizzle nuts.  Fortunately most of Kadizzle's career was in coal mining.  Coal mining allows one to move around.  Mine safety involves getting out and seeing what might go wrong and trying to stop it.  That means Kadizzle spent three or four hours per day roaming around thousands of acres looking for where the next accident might happen.  After the mining career Kadizzle was a safety specialist in the Power Generation field.

Generating coal fired power is not an outdoor activity, but power plants are huge.  The plant Kadizzle worked at was the largest building in North Dakota. There was plenty of space to roam around.  Walking completely through the power plant could take two days, and it would be a walk of miles.

The greatest think about the safety business for Kadizzle was you got to be your own boss. You decided when to do what.  On most days if you got bored sitting at your desk you could get up and go for a walk or drive.  A key element of safety is surprise inspections.  If you don't know when you are going to be somewhere, how could anyone else?  So if all of a sudden you get bored and go to some remote area of the plant or mine, it is a good thing.  Someone out there may be about to do something stupid, and they don't think you are likely to show up.  There were times when Kadizzle could not sleep at night.  He would put on his clothes drive out the mine and surprise the dragline crew in the middle of the night.  It kept them honest.  Thank ya Jesus Kadizzle never sat in an office all day.

A Bum RV

The Bismarck Tribune reports the city will crack down on bums and panhandlers.  In North Dakota it is not much of a problem.  Just like mosquitos the cold weather chases the bums out.  Kadizzle remembers an old article in the New York Times about someone who designed a special shopping cart for bums to live with.  The Shopping cart had a little seat in the front that could keep the bums dry.

While we were in Denver the Kadizzles saw a bum sleeping in a parking lot which happened to be under a bridge.  Sleeping in a parking lot seemed like an ideal way to get run over.  Kadizzle is thinking about designing a bum RV.  A bum RV has to be light,  cheap,  turn into a bed, and ideally would have some amenities.  Solar power is a given.  A can crusher would be nice. Dual purpose cushions for sitting and sleeping will be included.   Perhaps there should be a five gallon bucket for washing, and as a portable toilet.   There could be a small electric heater for plugging in. The challenge for the Bum Rv will be a fun design project.  All ideas are welcome.

Back in the USA

After a long drive the Kadizzles are back in Hazen.  It is like going from one planet to another.  New York, Denver, Hazen, are all entirely different.  From one of the largest cities in the world to one you can spit across with a good wind.  There is something to be said for each environment.

Made it back from the grocery store with eggs in a backpack on the new Kadizacycle.  A little chilly but it is going to be a great day.