The Sun Shines upon us.

Kadizzle has been blessed with his wonderful traveling companion who has served as a spiritual advisor, a navigator, and today a wonderful tour guide today.  Chuck and wife Shari took old fat Kadizzle on a wonderful tour of Port Townsend.  First Chuck took me to the Airport.  At the Spruce Goose cafe we had an excellent breakfast on the porch.  Kadizzle could not resist the blueberry pancakes and ended up leaving many sad berries on the plate. The stack was too high.

Port Townsend is a wonderful town full of many wonders.  Chuck took me to a wonderful cookie shop with cookies with strange names like Gorilla Glue, White Nightmare, and other strange names.  Roberto and Leticia joined us for the afternoon.  Port Townsend has the whole package, excellent sailing, wonderful shops, museums, and outdoor attractions.  Kadizzle is very taken with the town and the temptation to just move here is very strong.  Roberto from our town was the first to discover  the pleasures of the place.  Weather for the last three days has been perfect.  Off the motorcycles and walking was very therapeutic.  Touring the docks, and the boat building areas was educational and enjoyable.  There is so much to do and see here it makes one realize how little there is to do and see back home.  Breathing the ocean air mixed with the oxygen from the forest is a pleasure in and of itself.  Long ago Kadizzle read a book.  The title of the book was "This perfect Day".   Today was pretty close.  There was one cloud in the sky that was not formed correctly.

Different Strokes for Different Folks

Chuck is out looking for a place to eat. We are in Republic Washington.  We must be in motorcycle central. The damn things keep roaring down the street. The hotel we are in is overrun with cyclist. Some nice Canadian Harley guys next too us, and met another nice Canadian Kadizzle had to give some chain lube.  Each tribe has it's own cultural traditions.  Harley guys are kinda the Bubba's. They make a lot of noise, dress in their special Halloween costumes, and get tattoos.  Then you got the non Harley guys on BMW's, and the Japanese bikes.  They are less the white trash type and a little more sophisticated.  Then there is us. We are the real tough guys with the Adventure bikes. The Harley guys haul their bitches and go to the bar.  The other bikers eat at a little more tony places and don't  pretend to be movie characters.  Us Adventure bike guys go up dirt roads and camp, we go to the tip of South America, and to the Arctic Circle.  Now here we sit with all the tribes out in front of our rooms.

The Canadians were quizzing Kadizzle about the American political system.  Kadizzle figured there would be some Republicans overhearing him so he made it a point to cut Trump and the Republicans to shreds. Sure enough a guy popped out of his room and said "I am a Republican".  Next Kadizzle tried to explain American gun insanity.  The Canadians just could not believe that any idiot can instantly get a gun in our country.

The ride today was very scenic.  Our first stop was to have coffee with a traveling acquaintance we canoed the Missouri with.  He showed us his vineyard, and his amazing compost garden.  Near his house he had a small compost pyramid. He figured why not just plant pumpkin seeds right on the pile.  Sure enough it worked and pumpkins a growing very well on his pile along with potatoes, and cantaloupe.  After coffee we has some spectacular riding along the myriad of lakes that line the road.  Kadizzle never realized how many huge lakes are in this part of the world.  Motorcyclist love windy roads, and we hit some great ones to day. We crossed the highest pass in Washington and tomorrow should make it to Chuck's West coast headquarters.

Chile At the elevator

Ask and the lord will provide. My compatriot Carlos Stroupini, aka Chuck, still needs to learn a few things in life. One is not to doubt Kadizzle. An important item the motorcyclist have found is ear plugs.  Kadizzle assured Stroupini ear plugs could be had for free everywhere.  Somehow we had managed to lose or use our supply of earplugs. When you are a professional cheap ass like both Stroupini and Kadizzle you never buy anything you can get for free.  With the wind whistling in our ears Kadizzle decided to prove to Chuck ear plugs could be had.  In the absolute middle of nowhere Montana there was a grain elevator looming in the distance. This was the chance.  Kadizzle pulled off the road and saw a bevy of pickup trucks at the elevator. This meant there was life inside.  After a brief greeting Kadizzle asked the secretary if they had any earplugs.  She answered affirmatively and Kadizzle thanked her.  Kadizzle also spoke to the head man and thanked him.  Kadizzle explained that the woman was so kind and did such a good deed that her boss should take her out to dinner.  At this point the head man said they were making chili.  Kadizzle invited himself to the chili feed.  His self invitation was affirmed, but  it was about 8 A.M. and Stroupini and Chuck had miles to go and could not wait for the chili cook off.  Chuck was waiting outside and was pleased to be able to plug the holes in his head.

So the next mooch would be a place to stay.  Kadizzle happened to have a friend in Kallispell. Ah, ha, this could be the answer to the quest for a free place to stay.  Wet and Cold we stopped to fill our pie holes with some damn good pie.  There were so many nice looking homemade pies in West Glacier that Kadizzles pie belly was about to have a piegasm.  Which pie to eat?  Chuck did not waste any time and picked some sort of lemon pie.  It looked pretty good, but Kadizzle needed to check to see if it was the right choice.  When Chuck went to the restroom Kadizzle sampled a small piece of Chucks pie.  Kadizzle decided to go for the caramel apple with ice cream. The waitress came back with Kadizzles pie about the time Chuck did.  She knew Kadizzle had sampled Chuck's pie.  The waitress asked if Chuck noticed the missing piece.  Now the game was up.  Kadizzle quickly explained that Chuck's pie had a fly on it, and the waitress had to remove the piece to get the fly off. The story seemed to work. Back to the mooch.  Kadizzle called his friend and said he was in town, hoping to be invited to his place for an overnight.  The invitation did not come and Kadizzle agreed to just a stop and visit.  Later the friend realized the mooch was on and called back with the proper invitation explaining he had to get approval from his wife.  With the rain the motorcycle compatriots decided to end the journey in a hotel at Kalispell.

At the hotel we managed to finagle the clerk into drying our wet clothing in the hotel laundry.  Chuck was sent on a mission as Kadizzle's personal shopper at a nearby thrift store and managed to come back with a hat to replace one blown away somewhere on the trip. However, Chuck did not get any new shoes for Kadizzle.

Kadizzle and Chuck are two of the most frugal, or cheap if you prefer people on the planet.  This morning Kadizzle noticed Chuck checking the obituaries in the Bismarck Tribune.  This evening his scheme was revealed.  It turns out Chuck looks for guys his size who have no longer a use for their clothes since they will be wearing holy garments in heaven.  Soon their cloths will be in the local thrift store for Chuck to buy at a bargain.  Kadizzle admired Chucks ingenuity and plans to ask the Bismark Tribune to publish the weight of the deceased this will help with the sizing.  Obituaries should say things like "He enjoyed wearing his size ten shoes when they were polished".

God smiled on us.

Chuck and I are sitting in a hotel room in Havre Montana. Kadizzle is contemplating mooching lodging from a friend on Flathead lake.  We had perfect weather for our ride. We made 500 miles with sunshine and clear skies all the way.  With all the foliage so green the trip was better than anticipated.  Amazingly there was very little traffic.  No big excitement.  The most notable thing Kadizzle saw was a man pulling what appeared to be a rickshaw, you know, one of those Chinese taxis.  This was a very strange site.  The man was pulling a box like structure about the size of an outhouse.  What first caught my attention was a very large red cross on the box like structure.  Foolishly Kadizzle did not stop or turn around to investigate. There is no way anyone could be pulling such a strange contraption and not have a wonderful story to explain why.  Kadizzle speculated it would either be some sort of religious pilgrimage, or a patriotic message, but there seemed to be no signs except the huge red cross.

The motorcycles performed very well and we were both pleased. We are getting about 46 miles per gallon. Kadizzle just asked Chuck if he wished to add anything to the report.  Chuck wants people to know the cat fish bite in the Yellowstone is not good today.  The fisherman where we took a break said it was too windy, but he caught ten yesterday.  The fisherman told Kadizzle he preferred catfish to Walleye.

Now I must report the most peculiar thing. I thought I was done writing this story so I finished and checked the CNN news on the internet.  There I noticed a story about a woman who developed an accent after she had surgery.  Unbelievably this morning in Killdeer at the Cenex Kadizzle met a person who had the same thing happen.  As Kadizzle paid for his coffee he noticed the male clerk had a Boston accent.  Kadizzle asked him where he was from, and he said Green Bay Wisconsin.  Puzzled why someone from Green Bay Wisconsin would have a Boston accent Kadizzle inquired and the clerk explained it resulted from surgery.

Moving into a Tiny House

The cycle adventure is looming, now what to take, and what to leave behind.  Only so much will go into the saddle bags, and compartments on the cycle.  So Kadizzle will go with four pair of burners,  four pair of socks, four T shirts, two jackets, two blue jeans, and a bunch of other junk that will hopefully keep the Kadizzle comfortable.

Watching YouTube videos has given Kadizzle a good feel for what people think of the KLR 650.  It seems to have a good reputation.  Someone asked Chuck if we would use wireless headsets to talk. Chuck said who would want to hear Kadizzle all day. Good point.  Planning a trip that is weather dependant is hopeless. A cycle trip will be like a sailing trip, you will get there when you get there. Now the question is where is there.  Chuck wants to do some planning, but Kadizzle realizes each day you wake up and decide.  That is part of the fun, the surprise element.

Let the Adventure begin

The Crazy club decided to sponsor a road trip west.  About a year ago Kadizzle wandered into a motorcycle shop and observed two identical motorcycles for sale.  With his interest peaked Kadizzle followed the motorcycles lives for a year.  It turned out a man had purchased the two cycles for himself and his wife.  In no time they found it was not their cup of tea.  Now here we are a year later and Kadizzle and Chuck purchased both the cycles.  The man wanted to sell the cycles as a pair and that meant we think we got a deal.  The motorcycles are about as new as they can get with a lot of accessories.  So here we go. If the plan continues Kadizzle and Chuck will head to visit his wife, and sail his boat in Port Townsend.  Today we pick up the cycles and Kadizzle starts to figure what he will need to take.

Pirates will converge on cove

The summer solstice is upon us.  All good sailors know that means a meeting in Berthold Bay. Today the ships will be packed with provisions and the sails will be hoisted.  Ships will converge in the sacred spot to eat drink, and be merry.  Once more the sun has encircled the Earth and come back to the same spot.  Well, maybe it is the other way around, but in the old days the sun used to rotate around the Earth and in Republican circles it still does.  Back on subject.  It will be a pleasure to see old friends come one at a time under the silence of sail into the bay.  The old stories will be told along with the new adventures.  Hopefully some new sailors will show up.

The Temperature in Hell

Times are tough and competition for souls is strong  in Hazen. The Baptist came in years ago and stole a lot of people who wanted to be just a bit more crazy. Hazen used to have about four main churches.  The Lutherans had the market cornered, but there was a Methodist church, and a Catholic Church. We needed more flavors, so with the boom came the Southern Baptist, and now you can even go to churches offering the ability to speak in tongues.  We have no snake handlers yet, but who knows.  So we got the Lutherans that tolerate the gays, and ones that don't.

What are you going to do? Well the Methodist have one answer.  Advertise just like the banks. In fact the Methodist out did the banks.  The Methodist have a full color digital sign just like every bank.  The menu is right there.  Like the banks they tell the time and temperature.  Shiny and Kadizzle were sitting on the porch of the crazy club looking up the street at the sign of many colors flashing in front of the Methodist Church. Like all good electronic signs it had the time and temperature.  We thought of the perfect add, put the temperature of heaven and hell on that sign, and tell people if they didn't come to the meeting they would know the temperature in hell where they will surely go.  Hell is getting warmer, old Satan is suffering from global warming just like everyone else, but he likes it. That is one explanation, but the real reason Hell is warming, is that Old Satan is getting ready for the rush of Republican Trump voters.  So it looks like heaven might be comfortable for those who have the guts to go up against Satan's candidate Trump.  Heaven will be 72 degrees today with sunshine and light wind for people with courage who die today.  Hell may hit 120 if any of the wind blows in from the Earthly side in Las Vegas.  The Trumpers don't have to worry about their brains getting fried, it already happened.

Terrible Writing full of mistakes.

Thursday morning and still on the first cup of coffee.  Shiny at the crazy club told me my last letter to the Tribune was convoluted, and hard to understand. A fan said a bit repetitive. Well folks, Kadizzle gets up in the morning more asleep than not, and as his brain gets stirred by the first cup of coffee a thought may come. Truth is that the thought is probably one that has come a million times.  Kadizzle knows full well a lot of crap comes from this keyboard. In fact Shiny was correct, even Kadizzle could hardly read his own letter.

Now to the point.  What the hell do you expect in ten minutes.  You will not get War and Peace, and no calls have come from the Nobel Prize Committee.  Kadizzle is a man who got more D's and an occasional F in English class than you can imagine.  This brings back a fond memory.  Kadizzle just barely escaped from high school.  The English teacher hated Kadizzle, and the feeling was mutual. When Kadizzle walked across the stage he did not know if he would get an empty envelope because of the old bitch.  Now imagine this, Kadizzle shows up at Marshall University and takes freshman English.  What in the hell went wrong Kadizzle thought, the teacher gave me an A.  The guy who just barely escaped high school made the dean's list.  Of course given some time and beer things got back to where they should be grade wise. Kadizzle always felt anyone who had to actually study to pass a test was cheating.

So the coffee is going down, and a rain crow is outside giving the morning bird call that tells us to be prepared for another day.  Yesterday Kadizzle got a bug up his ass to buy a practically new motorcycle. The cycle is an Adventure Bike.  As the name implies it is for adventures. Kadizzle did not buy the bike. One consideration is the adventure might be getting killed or maimed. Motorcycles are like women they can turn on you in a moment.

So the summer is plodding along, same old song, fiddle and guitar, where do we take it from here. The best answer at the moment is another cup of coffee.  Perhaps some portion of the brain can be stirred that will keep the mind entertained in a productive fashion today.

KFYR, sewage on the airwaves.

As a young person growing up in Wheeling, West Virginia Kadizzle got a kick out of listening to the sleazy preachers ripping off old ladies on the nations second radio station every to broadcast. WWVA made good money helping unprincipled preachers steal from the stupid.

KFYR radio in Bismarck has figured out the formula.  Just like Fox News they exploit the stupid by filling the market for stupid.  Broadcasting hate, fear, and misinformation is a staple of KFYR.

Last summer old Kadizzle had to drive to Bismarck 40 times for radiation treatments.  To ward off boredom Kadizzle would listen to the redneck banter on KFYR.  Next Kadizzle would call into the talk show and inject some reality.  This set the dingers off in a rage.  "That communist that just called in is wrong, we need to kill everyone who disagrees with us".  On KFYR every problem is caused by Obama. Liberals and Satan are in league to ruin the world.

So on the way to Bismarck yesterday Kadizzle tuned into hate radio.  The radio host was trying to get people to cry over flag day.  It was all about how our soldiers fought for our freedom.  Of course this included the freedom to lie and spread hate, and then call it fair and balanced.

Kadizzle called in to ask how Donald Trump banning the Washington Post from covering him was in support of a free press.  As usual KFYR hung up the phone.  The host will always go to break or hand up if anyone calls with an opinion that goes against the party line.

When you call they ask where you are calling from.  I was driving through Wilton at the time, so like so many of the callers I said Wilton.  The host knows my voice and accused me of getting on the air under false circumstances and disguising my voice.   After they cut me off the first time, I called back and they cut me off as quick as they could.  KFYR broadcast Rush Limbaugh for hours.

Kadizzle had some time on his hands so he decided to drive into the offices of KFYR while he was in Bismarck.  Kadizzle ended up talking to eh Advertising Manager.  Kadizzle explained that if KFYR was actually fair they might have even more listeners.  The man explained that the hate, lying, and spreading of discontent sold well in North Dakota and there was no reason to change.  What about morality? The hell with that we are here to make money, and besides the manager said " I am a Trump supporter".

It is very sad to see the way KFYR abuses the airwaves.  They follow in the footsteps of Fox News, and Rush.  Give the simple minded any lie that sells.  Fox has proven misinformation is a gold mine.  Idiots want a good suppy of stupidity.

The Turbine is spinning

Cory and Jeff the basement trolls got home early today.  Cory is bound and determined to blast off right away.  Looks like Jeff and Kadizzle will be cooking ribs on the grill by ourselves. Jeff will crank up the Buick Roadmaster and blast to New York in the morning.  The Commander will return on the big jet tomorrow and the planets will all be re-aligned.  Just in time Jeff and Cory got the turbine at AVS spinning for the hot weather.

Last night Cory and Kadizzle went to the golf course to wish my dentist goodbye.  A staunch Republican approached Kadizzle and we had a nice chat.  My Republican friend said he rarely agreed with Kadizzle on political views, but he thought Kadizzle was right on the money criticizing Trump.  It has been fun getting compliments from the right wingers with functioning brains.  Some of the more intelligent Republicans are not happy that money is buying their party.  On the state level the gentleman last night was disappointed that the rich guy is trying just plunk down his cash and be governor.  On the national level we have the same thing. Once Republicans put the democracy up for sale with unlimited campaign contributions they should have known the rich would be in charge.  So the bottom line is all the old hard working Republicans who put the party together are now having it bought out from under them by new comers.  Welcome to my world.

It will be a different life with the basement trolls gone.  It is like having your kids leave for college.  Don't know if we can stand the solitude.  Had a great sail with Cory yesterday and it is sad he will not be able to be a deck hand again.

Blind Bocce Ball in the house

Kadizzle came back from the lake after a nice meal with Honest Omar and his fine cook, the poor galley slave.  The younger basement troll scared the hell out of Kadizzle as he put the trash in the can.  The young troll was a little cranked up on pickle juice and in a good mood because he would get to go home soon since the job was wrapping up. After the regular BS session it was decided at the basement trolls behest to play a around of indoor bocce ball.  We have been playing in the yard.

Now how is the game played.  OK, each player gets three colored bean bag like dohickies. Kadizzle always gets the blue ones.  To determine who goes first a juggling contest is held. It is always certain Kadizzle will lose.  So the Troll gets to go first.  Along with the three bean bags each is a little tiny white bean bag.  The person who won the juggling throws the white bean bag onto the bocce course.  In this case the course is into the living room, down the hall into one bedroom, out, through the master bedroom and into the master bathroom.  The little white pill is tossed from the kitchen into the living room, but it is a good toss and neither participant can see where it went.  The sound made it seem like it might have broken a valuable artifact or something.  This could result in a dual beating from The Commander.  Luckily The Commander is in New York with Cheech.  So the boccies get tossed blind.  To the amazement of the players the pill went behind a vase in a corner, and two of Kadizzle's throws went on top of the pill trapped between the vase and the fireplace.  Interesting score for Kadizzle.

A few more blind throws and the game finally ended up in the master bath where Kadizzle had a plan for the grand finale.  For the last shot you had to try to toss over your shoulder backwards into the waste basket. Kadizzle scored one, and the Troll scored one.  The game ended in victory for the Troll, and we finally went to bed. The Troll went into the basement where the master troll was sleeping.  Next week the trolls will get to end their stint putting the power plant back in shape.  It will be back to normal, and life will go on.

The most bizarre start to a day in a long time

Old Kadizzle got up and first had to fight off the IRS.  It seems that battle is won, and Kadizzle will not have to pay the 10K they wanted.  After the IRS battle Kadizzle decided to go on the remidigus.  The remidigus is a daily jaunt to talk all the regulars about town.  Part of the remedigus is the Crazy Club meeting.

On the way to start the remidigus Kadizzle saw a fifth wheel parked in the church parking lot. Kadizzle needed a sailor for the weekend adventure and thought perhaps he would enlist the local pastor. Seeing the man by the fifth wheel Kadizzle thought he might know where the pastor was.  To strike up a conversation Kadizzle asked the fifth wheel guy where he was from and so on.  Mr. fifth wheel got very paranoid, and make it a point to be nasty and uncommunicative. Kadizzle explained he was just trying to be friendly and his real goal was to find the pastor.  The encounter left Kadizzle with a bad feeling and a disappointment that some human would be so nasty and ruin the day so early.  Kadizzle went on to the crazy club and remarked to Shiny what a nasty disagreeable man he had encountered.

On the way back from the Crazy Club Kadizzle noticed the pastor's truck in the parking lot and decided to ask him if he wanted to sail.  The good man of God could not go on the adventure. Kadizzle mentioned to the reverend his encounter with the man in the parking lot. Kadizzle needed CPR when the pastor told him Mr. Super Nasty was a minister. Kadizzle could not comprehend that the nastiest person he had met in a long time was a minister.  It was mind boggling. Apparently the man travels spreading the word of God.  The ministry must turn more people away from the lord than any other minister in the country.

Well now for the next CPR moment.  Speaking with my spiritual counselor, he told me he had read my letter to the Bismarck Tribune about the evil Donald Trump.  The minister told Kadizzle (who happens to be an agnostic at best ) that Kadizzle was the best Christian in town as far as he was concerned.  So to sum up the day so far Kadizzle must quote Albert Einstein.  "The world is not stranger than you think, it is stranger than you can think."  Off to the lake to continue the adventure.

Here we go

The sun is managing to hoist itself.  The basement dwellers are off to keep the turbine spinning. Now the large lump of lard must motivate himself to get some exercise. The best solution would be to get on the bike and pedal north to the lake.  The laws of physics will fight Kadizzle.  Moving a mass up a hill means opposing gravity.  Now gravity is a strange force.  The coffee cup sitting in front of Kadizzle is  being held on the table by gravity.  The entire planet Earth is pulling the cup onto the table.  Now Kadizzle can overcome the entire force of the planet and lift the cup to have a sip of coffee, but if and when Kadizzle starts up the hill north of town, the whole planet will be pulling him back down.  The struggle of Kadizzle versus Earth will be taxing.  Earth does have to give back.  If Kadizzle turns around, the entire Earth will pull him toward Hazen.  Strangely it is this same gravity that is holding the moon in it's orbit. Of course to some extent the moon is pulling on the Earth.  Now if the moon would line up with the road the moon could help pull Kadizzle.  The moon pulls the tides, so why not Kadizzle.  It could work.  The moon basically is rising in the east so it Kadizzle rides east the moon will pull him. Well right now gravity has Kadizzle nailed in a chair in the kitchen drinking coffee. The first step will be to overcome gravity and take a shower.

Childhood landmarks in Wheeling, W.Va.

In the old days before GPS people navigated by landmarks.  Growing up in Wheeling, and living in Woodsdale we navigated by landmarks.  The National Road was the main artery at the time. There was no interstate.  The National Road was historic, and put Wheeling on the map.  If you were going west, chances were you would do it on Route 40.  Wheeling hill on the National Road was a landmark and when you learned to drive, it was the most dreaded thing you might encounter. At the top of Wheeling hill was a traffic light, and if you had to stop on an incline, your clutch skills would meet the ultimate test. Truck drivers also had to fear the mighty hill.  The stature of the Indian was at the top of the hill with an outstretched arm.  My older brother would put a roll of toilet paper in the Indians reaching hand and sometimes even dress the poor statue in a girdle.

The Suspension Bridge was something to a young kid, and it was a little exciting to drive across it to get to the circus on Wheeling Island.  Supposedly my grandfather Russell Goodwin who was once mayor of Wheeling used to dive off the bridge.  He lived on Wheeling Island and all things are possible.

Around Woodsdale the most important place for kids was the drug store.  It was the real deal with a marble counter and you could get cherry coke, and an ice cream float.  The drugstore had a nice selection of cigars one of the neighborhood kids would steal for us to smoke under the porch. The creek that ran through the park provided endless experiences.  Almost always we came home and someone in our group had fallen into the creek.  Sometimes it took some pushing. In the winter walking on the ice was great excitement.  Fishing for fish you could actually see in a couple deep spots was a hopeless event. You could put the bait right in front of them and watch them ignore it all day.  I think that ruined me for fishing for the rest of my life.  

Wheeling creek could at times be awesome when it flooded.  What fun when Wheeling Creek rose and washed stuff out of people's homes.  When the creek receded you could pick big bottles of Seven - Up out of the bushes.  Trying to capture a carp out of Wheeling Creek was another great expedition.  Noah build an ark, but the Woodsdale kids build a boat big enough to hold all the local insects two by two.  God told us wood was in short supply so he only intended to save the insects.  I think that was because the insects had bigger brains than we did.  We gathered up the scrap wood, and built the boat.  On launching near Washington Avenue the ship immediately sank.  Luckily most of the insects survived and that is why there are still ants and mosquitos still in Woodsdale.

The park across from Woodsdale school was the park. The park in the old days had very neat little bridges.  All major athletic competitions took place in the park. In those days you organized your own softball game.  There was no little league.  You called up some people and set up the bases.  Football was the same way.  You went to the park and you set up the super bowl yourself.  It was a great learning experience. You learned to get along with other kids or there would be no game.  You learned something about fairness.

Edgington Lane was a neat little area of commerce.  Most of important of all when we were young was Jake’s Toys store.  It was heaven on Earth.  It was a place that you could spend that money you made collecting bottles.  You could buy a rubber band driven wooden plane that actually flew, and a kite could be procured to test the wind.  A drugstore was there and it had it’s own goodies.  The old state liquor store was there for the drunks to refuel.  When we were old enough to pass for half legitimate drinkers it was possible to get some hooch in the state store.

There was the bridge over by Washington Ave.  Once the Washington Ave. kids came to Woodsdale School we soon found out under the bridge on Washington Ave. was the place to smoke and plot orneriness.  As a teenager the most important landmark ever was the bar on Washington Ave.  The name of the place will not come to my mind, but I think it had a special policy of not allowing anyone to drink who was of legal age.  If you looked big enough you got served.  Often people said the legal age to drink in Wheeling was when you were old enough to put a quarter on the bar.  In those days it was 3.2 beer.  You were more likely to die of kidney failure than get drunk.  It was training beer.  I remember sitting out front of that place drinking illegally.  Some old guy with a car from the thirties would drive down the street real slow.  The kids would all run out and jump on the back bumper until the front of the car came up in the air.  The old guy would just keep driving with the front wheels three feet off the ground.  

I will never forget being at that bar and seeing a pink dump truck come down the street.  I wrote pink dump truck, not elephant.  Anyway, the truck came down the street and in the back were black congregationalist from Lonny Banks church.  Three men each with brass instruments would give the horns a loud toot, and yell “ Come to Lonny Bank’s Church”.  

A critical landmark in my life was the Burger Chef on the National Road back near the old neighborhood.  My first real job was handing out hamburgers there.  That is the real place I learned math.  Some good stories came out of that place, but one of my favorites was an unusual hamburger that got sold.  Some machine somewhere must have made the hamburger patties.  One day an irate customer came back in the door and complained about his hamburger.  He opened the burger and put it on the counter.  He exclaimed look at this.  The burger had a distinct piece of cowhide in it.  The hide actually had fur on it.  The idiot that had sold it to him asked “ What do you want me to do about it?”.  The man replied “ I want another one”.  I don’t know what went through my friends mind, but he replied “ We don’t have any more like that”.

Today the world buzzes through Wheeling on the Interstate.  Few know the role Wheeling played in shaping the history of the country, but I will always remember how Wheeling shaped my history.

Dare to be stupid

When boredom is dripping from heaven, and life seems too ordinary, nothing can perk life up like a good round of dare to be stupid. This can be done in many ways.  Go out and sail in a howling gale. Ride your motorcycle on a road trying to kill you in the mountains. Now dare to be stupid does not always have to be a quick simple fix. Donald Trump is offering the country a massive chance to play dare to be stupid.  Remember when Bush invaded the wrong country?  That game of dare to be stupid is still going on and has cost over a trillion dollars, but we are all alive and still doing fairly well. Now comes The Donald.  This mother of all dolts may be able to pull off the biggest game of dare to be stupid ever attempted. He might crash the economy, and his chances for starting a nuclear war are better than any dolt in recent history.  The combination of our own idiot and foreign idiots could be a toxic mix that could bring real suffering.  Too many times the simple solution is no fun. Want to lose weight, quit eating, but that is no fun.  Want to prosper? Tax the rich and fix the infrastructure, but that is no fun. So here we go, we are going to throw all common sense out the window and embark on an epic round of dare to be stupid. The Donald will be entertaining with his insults and his comic stupidity, but there will be a price. Most games of dare to be stupid end in pain, and suffering.  The Donald will really kick it up a notch.

Music in the morning.

Last night Kadizzle watched a video on a steam engine moving from Wallsenberg, Colorado to Denver.  To get the train going they had to fire the boiler.  In the morning old Kadizzle has to fire his boiler.  It takes two cups of coffee. Having some music blasting in the background while he gets up to date can help.  Often the old Commander tells Kadizzle to hop to some task early in the day.  That steam engine does not just hop out of the station. The engine needs pressure. Stoke that machine until there is enough pressure to get going.  One other thing the video showed was the crew greasing the engine.  They had the world's largest grease gun.  Now old Kadizzle has to be greased to get going.  The way to grease a big old fat man is to cook him a little. The trick is to get some fat to melt to make the grease.  So hop in the shower and set it on cook.  When a little Kadizzle starts to melt he is ready to go.  To top off the wake up one Sonos speaker goes in the shower room. Now blast out a tune while you cook.  The procedure is done. Face the day, wreck havoc, wander about, another day, another sun rise.  Some day you may rise and  Kadizzle will not so fill to him the parting glass, that you could rise and he did not.

A Call from a dead man

Laying in bed in the afternoon yesterday Kadizzle hoped for a brief nap.  The damn phone rang.  It must be one of those election push polls or someone else out to harass Kadizzle.  The voice seemed like someone in a boiler room without too much education.  The person introduced himself as Gary.  The Gary I knew who sounded like this was dead, at least I thought he was.  Gary is the scholarly bum that has been written about here.  Last winter The Commander and Kadizzle looked many times for Gary in the campground. We came to the conclusion he had died.  The last time we saw Gary he was in terrible shape. He had smoked himself as near to death as a person could. Gary could hardly walk, and breathing was just about impossible.  On our last visit The Commander  and Kadizzle thought we would never see him again.  We went so far as to wonder what would happen to his dog Sammy, and his truck he enjoyed so much, but he I was talking to Gary.  His voice seemed to have a lot of life in it, and it said he was well.

Life can take great turns, and Gary's predicament seemed to have improved immensely.  Just being alive was a major accomplishment.  Gary had lived in a tent, and a small tent at that for at least five years.  Now Gary reported he somehow acquired a truck camper with a flat screen TV, a microwave, and a new refrigerator. To Gary this was the lap of luxury.  Gary has found a place to stay with his truck for 200 per month.  He is still working on his goal of visiting every national park.  Gary says he may come to North Dakota in a year or so.  A man Kadizzle thought was surely dead from the evils of tobacco is alive, and doing better than ever.  Amazing the turns the road takes, but that is life.

Joy to my heart

Kadizzle and The Commander are getting old.  We surrendered to the wind yesterday and the boat never left the dock. Too much wind used to never be a consideration, but even bombing down wind to Mallard Island was too much so home we went.  Today we will conquer or die trying.

As we waited for the wind to die Rodger showed up with a young guy new to sailing.  Soon we were in a cackling session about sailing.  The new sailor has three little boys that are going to have a blast as the family takes on a new hobby.  Nothing is more joyful than seeing a young family join the sailing community.  In the old days pure joy came from going out with our kids.  In the old days all the sailors had children.  Megan, and Erin would meet their lake buddies in a bay and swim, hike, and watch their parents get blasted.  Campfires with children are so much better.  In recent years a few more people are getting into sailing with young kids.  Our kids learned more from sailing than any book. They learned how to work together. They learned people have many aspects.  They learned to get along. They learned not to be scared. Most important they built up their confidence.  Kadizzle has too of the best, most confident girls ever to enter girldom.  Megan and Erin would not be the go getters they are today if they had not learned to face a storm head on in the old sailing days.

Many times Kadizzle has said the best friends he ever had were sailors.  There is not a bad one in the bunch. If you need help a sailor will not turn you down.  When we are on the lake, we are all in this together.  The Kadizzles have sailed for over thirty years.  In those years Kadizzle cannot recall a kerfuffle that amounted anything among the sailors.

Yesterday we talked about this boat and that boat that might be for sale.  Kadizzle has seen John Soderquist boat listed for sale a couple times.  Blue Joy took John all over the lake.  John went on to the big lake in the sky, but Kadizzle always remembers him fondly.  It was nothing for John to get on his little boat and sail alone for weeks.  John would take people out on his boat where ever he went.  John was like a ghost.  You might be sitting way back in a bay and hear his engine putt putt, and there he was out of nowhere.  When sailors get nostalgic a John Soderquist story is always in order.  One of my favorites was on a week long cruise.  All the boats were headed to home port.  John was behind and we were going to hole up in Beulah Bay or somewhere along that shore.  A storm was chasing John down the lake and we were a little concerned he could not find us.  We sent the kids up on the hill to wave lights and lanterns.  John made it. More than anything in his larder John will always be famous for his M&M pancakes. Surely when John met the big Captain up above the Captain said " John  could you make me some of those M&M pancakes".  I am not sure there would be a request for the forty year old popcorn he found in an old theater.

Good people are everywhere

The mission yesterday was to get a few things done on the good ship.  Of course diversions intervened. On the way to the lake Kadizzle indulged in his car hobby.  Bored in the car Kadizzle sometimes likes to throw a liberal bomb at the local Nazi radio station KFYR.  As the Limbaugh gang spreads its lies and hate with the help of the KFYR radio host Kadizzle calls in to the talk show to interject a little reality.  This morning the sad little red necks were swooning over their hero Mr. Trump.  Kadizzle called in and tried to have a conversation about Trump University. Trump University was The Donald's attempt to scam people out of $35,000 to learn his real estate tricks.  Trump is being sued for his fraud.

Kadizzle's call upset the praise session on KFRY.  The station that constantly calls itself fair and balanced wanted no part of fair or balance.  The KFYR host hung up.  Usually if they can they say " We got to go to break now" and cut off anyone who disagrees.  Kadizzle called up the station manager to complain about the relentless right wing propaganda. Kadizzle suggested they have two host, one liberal, and one a right wing red neck.  The manager abruptly said " I got to go and hung up".  This pathetic station broadcast Rush Limbaugh for hours every day and at night has every phony conspiracy theory and urban legend on for hours.  KFYR is a sad waste of the publica airways.  Their motto should be unfair and mentally unbalanced.

Finally got to the lake and caught up in a conversation with the new camp host at the marina.  In no time Kadizzle invited him to sail and his wife came along. We had a great sail and they really enjoyed working and steering the boat.  We ended up having lunch on the dock and talking for hours about RV traveling, hunting, and the history of the area.  It is always fun to introduce people to sailing.  Needless to say next to nothing got done on the boat.  The main goal was just to charge all the electronics and sort out all the charging cords. A little of that got done, but the day was a success.  It ended with new friends, and a pleasant day to look back on.

The Day is unfolding.

Click and Clack the tappet brothers got up early to get the turbine going at the power plant. Jeff left really early.  Corey left about six.  After two months the basement millwrights just about got the turbine put back together. Hopefully everything goes well and 450 megawatts will soon be available to run the slot machines at the Indian casinos.  There will be plenty of power to light up every parking lot all night long.

Meanwhile the day will come together for Kadizzle and The Commander.  Kadizzle got up at 5:30 and had a couple cups of coffee.  Around 6:30 The Commander called from the bedroom on her cell phone to order coffee.  After delivering the coffee Kadizzle jumped in the shower and cooked the arthritis in his lower back. It always feels so good.  In the background NPR and some nice music plays on the new Sonos speaker. Oh, what a joy.

Today's plan is to go to the lake and charge everything on the good ship. The Commander asked what was to be charged.   Well, there is the little 12 volt battery that will run the cell phones.  There is the new big 12 volt battery that will run the sump pump.  Then there is the spotlight, the handheld VHF, the extra double AA battery charger, the Ipod, and on it goes.  While Kadizzle is at the lake enjoying peace and solitude, The Commander said she is going to weed the garden.  The garden looks mighty good. Everything is up and it will not be long for them little taters are in the stew.

Yesterday locators showed up.  What in  the hell are locators?  Locators are the guys who find cables underground.  Midco is going to put a new line in the house, so the locators came.  The second locator got in a BS session with Kadizzle.  He seems to have the good life figured out.  At fifty he has his kids out of the house, and he only works in the summer.  In the winter he enjoys life.  Kadizzle though maybe he should be a locator.  As the conversation progressed Kadizzle became aware the locator built a makeshift iceboat.  Locater did not know a lot about sailing, but said he had his iceboat up to almost fifty miles an hour.  Kadizzle has always wanted to build and sail and ice boat.  So Kadizzle and locator went down to the basement and Kadizzle dug out a huge headsail that had a small rip.  We spread it out in the backyard.  When locator saw how big it was his eyes about popped out.  Kadizzle gave the sail to locater and told him to cut out what he needed for the ice boat.  Now we have to find locator a mast made of aluminum. Boing, Kadizzle just got a brain storm.  Chuck has a little sailboat  up at the lake he does not use.  We could turn it into a ice boat.  If Chuck comes to the meeting at the Crazy Club this morning we can discuss it. The wheels are turning. This could be do da.

OK, The Commander is up and jumping around like a Mexican bean.  Shouting out orders, commands, and comments the day is now in third gear.  So here we go, fasten your seat belt the day has started. The Commander is threatening to ride her bike to the lake.

When I came home the other night as drunk as I could be

As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a woollen blanket that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
They're two lovely Geranium pots me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in Geranium pots I never saw before
And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my old head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts where my old hands should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them hands upon your breasts where my old hands should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before
As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing in her thing where my old thing should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing where my old thing should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw befor

Somebody is making it happen

Got up this morning and turned on the lights, the radio, and made some coffee.  This did not all just happen.  Today we live in a magic world where reality has been suspended. We believe there is no problem with 100 CEO's making 3 million a month, while the Walmart greeter gets 8 dollars an hour. The CEO will make more in a month than the greeter does in a lifetime.  What is it that CEO does that is so amazing?  The CEO for Coke makes a bundle.  Coke is sugar, water, and some flavoring.  The CEO makes sure you buy plenty of Coke, and he sells it to you at the maximum price.  Wow, the guy deserves 100 million dollars a year for rotting your teeth and giving you a hillbilly belly.  Sometimes the CEO gives you nothing, he just robs you. Some of the richest people on Wall Street are just wonderful con men.  We have crooked stump preachers with 40 million dollar homes who sell hope to old ladies while they bilk them senseless.

Meantime it drives good Republicans nuts to pay a truck driver, or a coal miner a decent wage.  We got to bust up unions.  What about the union of the rich.  The rich union has taken everything from the working man.

Now a reality check. Last winter Kadizzle and The Commander went to Belize.  It was a nice trip, but seeing so many people living in poverty sure did not make the trip any better.  Yesterday a former neighbor talked with The Commander.  The Commander asked how the cruise was to Panama.  Oh, it was just fine, but traveling through the poor areas to get to the nice areas was depressing.  This was coming from a hard core Republican.  Years ago when Kadizzle was working his secretary went to Mexico for a vacation. Kadizzle asked how it went.  She had the same feeling.  It was no fun to go to a fancy beach resort after you drove through miles of poverty on the way to the beach.  Even the old neighbor could not help but make the observation, the rich took it all and left the rest in poverty.

Now this is what is happening to our country.  A small segment of our population has taken everything, and left so many with little or nothing. The Walton family that owns Walmart has more wealth than the bottom 150 million people in the United States. Ho, hum who cares, I got a big shiny pickup truck.  Meanwhile working people get up at 5:30 and come home at 6:30 and struggle to get by.  We have suspended reality.  We are all going to win the lottery and be rich next week, so of course we do not want to be taxed.

In the old days the rich were forced to give back with taxes.  Then we built the interstate, you could afford college, and the bridges were not falling down.  The rich don't need the interstate, they have jets. The rich have money to send their kids to college, so the hell with you.  What do we do?  We get in line behind a dufus like Trump.  He is going to give the rich even more tax breaks, and he is going to make America great again. Nothing to it, just believe.

People don't read, they do not think, and they have embraced a fantasy world where you can either wish away problems, or deny them, or ask God to fix them.  We no longer have the will to embrace reality.  Math was such a nuisance we did away with it.  Math will tell what speed you are going to hit the wall with your car.  Who would want to know that, just believe God will stop your car and send the preacher a check. Problem solved.  The real magic is blaming the mess on the poor.  The rich point to the poor and say " Those lazy bastards are the problem".   Ya, sure, ya betcha.  The poor love being poor, that is why they will not work.  They love those shitty homes in the ghetto, they love food stamps, and they just expect handouts from Democrats.  Go to the coffee shop and you can learn the solution to almost any problem.  Real facts, real education, and real knowledge have been abandoned.  Now we have Coffee shop university.  Surrounded by dolts you will learn there is no climate problem, the Mexicans are raping everybody, and Hillary is only concerned about getting your gun.  Talk to any dolt with a diploma from the local coffee shop and you will hear the truth, as we like to believe it.  Now you choose the news you want to believe. Rush will tell you exactly what you want to hear, just tune in and he will cook up a conspiracy a minute.  Fox News will assure you that what the guys at the coffee shop told you is true.  None of us would go on a day with all this hopelessness, except we all know we have that lottery ticket in our pocket. Tomorrow our number will be drawn.  The IRS will try to get our money, so we need to get out and support the Republicans so the IRS and the welfare cheats don't get our lottery money.  What a wonderful delusional world.  We are busted flat and we love the people who enslaved us.  All that history, all that math, all that science, teachers tried to pound into our heads is meaningless. What really matters is "If you believe it, it is true".   So turn on Fox, buys some viagra, get your miracle vitamins, and curse that damn Bernie Sanders the communist who is trying to tax the rich and steal your lottery winnings. Go, baby, go, drill baby drill.