State of the Union

Obama's speech is technically not a "State of the Union" address, just addressing a joint session of Congress. I just watched most of it in bits and bobs. As much as I could take in one sitting, anyway.

A few "fun" facts about State of the Union Addresses from Robert Schlesinger at USNEWS.COM:

"...Actually, the speech was not always called the "State of the Union" and, for that matter, was not always a speech. Article II, Section 3 of the Constitution says that the president "shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient."

... Thomas Jefferson, the third president, started a long tradition of presidents sending their reports up in written form. The next president who gave the annual report (not yet the "State of the Union," mind you) in person as a speech was Woodrow Wilson in December 1913.

...Franklin Roosevelt started the modern tradition by delivering his first report to Congress, in 1934, as a speech. It was the first such address titled the "State of the Union." It wasn't until 1947, however, that the name came into general usage.

...Coolidge's 1923 address was the first broadcast over the radio; Harry Truman's 1947 State of the Union was the first broadcast on television; George W. Bush's 2002 speech was the first webcast from the House's website.

...The longest State of the Union (or whatever we call it) by words: Jimmy Carter's 1981 address—which was also the last such written message—was an astounding 33,667 words.

...The shortest such speech in terms of words was the first: Washington's 1790 report to Congress, which he delivered to a joint session in New York City, was a mere 1,089 words. The picture of brevity."

This year?

I should have burned a $20 on the porch, pointed my finger at picture of Bush, told myself everything is going to be alright because Obama is the second coming while shoving a baseball bat up my ass and beating off. At least I would've got the happy ending AND would've ended a half hour earlier.

Barrow

Just found out I've been to the site of the fastest gust of wind ever recorded.  Flown in and out of the island many times.  It's kind of an interesting place, actually.  At first blush, it doesn't look like much, but it has a history and some unique wildlife and now, some big plans in store for what WAS some sort of wildlife refuge.  And yeah, it's got these big, termite hills.  It's off the west coast of Australia and was my jumping-off point for a year, while shooting off WA.  I used to fly a Charter jet from Perth to the Island, where I'd hop a chopper to my ship.

Quote this

"Political Correctness is about turning a blind eye to painful reality because your comfortable feelings are more important to you than saving lives and providing quality of life to people who work their ass off to be productive and are a benefit to this great American Dream."  -Ted Nugent

Bread

So my wife comes home with two loaves of bread given to her by a friend.  One is holy and one is hemp. 

Ezekiel 4:9 bread has all the same ingredients described in the bible.  It says so and I believe it.

Healthy Hemp bread has a ton of seeds and it says it doesn't get you high.  No shit.

home for the post-holidays

Been home a week.  Still tired.  Still haven't quite cleared the last six weeks of snow from the drive, but damn close. 

Lost the Internet.  It took Charter 4 days, 6 trucks and 6 servicemen.  They left saying they changed the signal to this area and would change it back until they figured out what went wrong.  Finally, a day later, it came back.  I wonder how long it will last.

Just about the only other thing going on currently, is the thought that I might clean up my workshop tomorrow.  Yeah, polar opposite of life on the boat.

Happy B-day, Eddie

Today is Edger Allan Poe's birthday.  He would have been 200 today!   I'm currently reading a novel about a man who enlists the help of the person Poe modeled his famous C. Auguste Dupin after, to solve the mystery of Poe's death.  So far, it is an excellent read and fitting that I'm reading it on Poe's 200th birthday.  Watch out for ravens...

give a little

And finally, to round out a three-post day (morning, actually), I wonder aloud why it is that yesterday I read that the amount of US aid currently being sent to Haiti is about to exceed that of aid to anyone or anything else, ever. More than the tsunami and more than hurricane Katrina.  Please do not get me wrong.   I am all for that "helping fellow man" crap, but I first wonder how less aid was sent to the many millions more people displaced and fucked over in general, by the tsunami and how less aid was sent to our own fellow Americans in the wake of hurricane Katrina?  Just one of those little mysteries of life, I suppose.

And just for the record, two days ago I flew from the southern tip of the Mississippi River delta, all that way up to New Orleans, in a helicopter.  Can anyone remember what year Katrina struck without Googling the answer?  I'll tell you.  It was August 29, 2005.  They still have not yet fully recovered after 4 1/2 years.

Smell this

Ever wonder why some things are SO much more expensive in the US, than other places?  Case in point:

The following are excerpts from an AP wire article posted on Yahoo! News...the accent/bolding is all mine.

'...NEW YORK – Johnson & Johnson issued a massive recall Friday of over-the-counter drugs including Tylenol, Motrin and St. Joseph's aspirin because of a moldy smell that has made people sick.

The FDA said about 70 people have been either sickened by the odor — including nausea, stomach pain, vomiting and diarrhea — or noticed it.

The FDA said McNeil knew of the problem in early 2008 but made only a limited investigation.

"McNeil should have acted faster," said Deborah Autor, the director of the FDA's Office of Compliance of the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research. "When something smells bad, literally or figuratively, companies must aggressively investigate and take all necessary action to solve the problem."...'

OK.  Now then, some McNeil/J&J products allegedly shipped on wooden pallets that smelled funny.  No warehouse workers get sick.  No truckers get ill.  Nobody stocking shelves gets ill.  Customers walking isles crammed with dozens of boxes of smelly pills do not get sick.  BUT, about 70 people taking the pills get sick from the smell? Or notice it?

Does this really mean if I call up the folks who make, say, Miracle Whip(tm) and tell them it smells like feet, that they have to recall 7.4 million jars of the white stuff?  Who decided that in the US, people should walk around with their fingers in their noses, secure in the knowledge that somebody else is responsible for their safety?  What the fuck is wrong with a little personal responsibility?   Why is that if something smells funny, a company has to recall millions of dollars of stock?  This article says the FDA listes about 70 people who got sick from the smell of the pills, when nobody handling them by the thousands and tens of thousands did.  If anyone reading this believes that, please send me $127 and I will give you the keys to the kingdom.  I will tell you the secret to unlocking the mysteries of the universe.  I will give you the knowledge you need to bring yourslef riches, happiness and the power to anything, be anything you ever wanted to be.  Really.

PS.  Do not take fish oil pills.  They DO smell like feet.

Buy this?

A picture of this guy makes me want to buy nothing, except maybe a hand-gun.  What the fuck were they thinking?

whatever

Well, when you talk about things like everyone going home in one piece, something else is bound to happen.  We were hit by another ship, yesterday and it popped a hole in us.  Couple of them, I think.  Big fucking dent, too.  It was our own supply ship who was trying to marry up with us while we were both underway (the way we always do it, cause we CANNOT stop, or multi-million dollar accident occurs)  Anyway, we are fine now.  Somebody is down below with their finger in the hole.

Crew-x is in three days for me.  I get off a day later than most of the rest of the crew cause I'm special that way.  Fuck.

Going home

Glad this trip is coming to a close.  I'm tired from too many 20 hour shifts in a row.  Tired of the teeth-clenching stress that slammed down last month , grabbing me by the back of the neck and worrying me like a hyena on a zebra carcass.  Fuck this noise.

I've got two projects going simultaneously, right now.  Not good.  Way too much shit needing to be stored in way too little grey matter.  LL's little math puzzle the other day, frustrating as it was, was also a nice distraction, even if I do hate maths almost us a much as they hate me.  If I can get my shoreside support and a twitchy client to make some final decisions soon, I might be able to put Colombia behind me forever, or at least for the next six months or so.

The new project I'm also setting up is of a complicated sort.  It involves multiple vessels and some pretty complex geometries and MATH (fuck) puzzles.  I was somewhat horrified to see that the format of just the name of something has gone from a simple alpha-numeric to an alpha-numeric with hexadecimal characters and a modulus hiding in there.  A freaking name, people.  Anyway, it is quite the challenge to set up and I have not been dealing with the stress well, and I need to get the fuck. Outta Dodge.

Yesterday, as I was sipping my first cuppa here in Dodge City, a frantic call came over the radio.  Man overboard.  Seeing a bit of general panic and indecision in the room, I bolted out the door, grabbed some gear and ran to the Fast Rescue Craft.  After about a minute, two more people showed up and as we were preparing to launch, we got the call to stand down.  Turns out the ship that made the call was 20 miles distant-too far for us to be of any real assistance.  They had 3 other vessels close by, so we went back to the radio, to await the outcome.  A few minutes later, a muster roll-call revealed all crew to be safe and the alarm to be false.  Big fucking sigh of relief.  The chances of finding one of us in the water, even on broad daylight are, in fact, very slim, bordering on none.  This was illustrated early last year when one of the crew from one of the ships working with us right now, was lost in broad daylight, surrounded by a fleet of ships.  Rescue craft were even in the water at the time of the incident, the crew member spotted in the water and still he was not recovered.  ever.  So, yesterday was just another reminder that I work in a dangerous and unpredictable environment and that it pays to be vigilant.  I was heartened to see that we repsonded to the radio call, lightening-fast.  I hope if the call is ever for me and not to me, that someone else responds equally fast.  I look forward to crew-x in a few days and God willing, once again, we will all be here to go home.

Peace

One week to go

Still offshore Louisiana.   Crew-xing next week.  Busy as hell this week.  Working two projects at once and it feels like my head is going to explode.  Cannot wait to go home and sleep for a fucking week.  Praying we have good weather for the choppers.

Not had much of a life this trip, beyond a few hours off at Christmas (if you call running around encased in pillows, yelling HO HO HO, a break).  I HAVE managed to watch seasons1-4 of LOST and am working my way through season 5 right now.  Blondie was SO right about the awesomeness that is LOST.  I am so hooked and while I have my own ideas about the answers to the many questions, I really need to sit down and hash this shit out with somebody who follows the series.  BAD.

Quick Update

Hmm, lets see now.  Completed the steam from Cartagena, Colombia to Theodore, Alabama (Mobile) in about 7 days.  Using Google Earth, I pinpointed the closest bar and found a favorable review for it, as well as phone number.  I checked out the front of the bar on Google Street View and all of this worked brilliantly.  I called the bar on Sunday evening, when we arrived.  The owner said she would alert the bartender and stay open for us.  We walked there in the dark, miles down a very dark, loney road, bounded by swamps at some points.  Google, The Prophet, did not let us down.  It did not know that the bar had been sold back in September and that the former Julies was now The Brier Patch, but everything else was spot-on, including the review. 

Southern hospitality?  Look it up in the dictionary and you should find a description of The Brier Patch, on Daulphin Island Parkway.  It started when they said they would stay open as late as WE wanted, on a Sunday night.  When the bartender heard we walked, she asked why we didn't call for a ride and said one of the customers would've drove over and loaded us in a pickup-the two old guys at the end of the bar both nodded.  She bought us shots, gave us free snacks, even going out to car for a couple bags of pretzels she had bought for home.  At the end of the night she promised to make us a pot of gumbo, ask some girlfriends to come up the next night and told us we could drive her car back to the ship, instead of walking.  We declined and most of us left, walkng.  One poor sod ended up sleeping in her car and she drove the rest home after closing the bar at around 4:30 in the morning.  True to her word, she had gumbo waiting for us the next night.

The last night, when we again showed up hungry, she called up a friend who showed up a while later with a giant tub of BBQ'd ribs.  You just don't get that kind of friendly, everywhere.  We won't soon forget the Brier Patch.

Anyway, we sailed and began deploying for the next job.  Christmas was a pretty good time, despite being stuck onboard and at sea.  I dressed up as Trailer-Trash Santa, smoking and drinking and gettin some skin from my homies.  I guess I'll have to attach an image to this post, along with our crew Christmas card.  I gave out presents and afterward we played bingo (party-time, I know).  We gave away a few hundred bucks in cash and prizes including a play station, Wii and some computer gear. 

Santa didn't win squat.

To the U.S.

In just a couple of days, I should be leaving Colombia behind, for some time to come.  I should be heading back to the US, for the first time in, oh, 3 1/2 years, I think.  Wow.  Working in the US for a while will be nice:)

The weather and sea state here is crap.  We were up to 8 meter (~25 foot) seas and 50-60 mph winds.  It will be good to find calmer waters if we can.  Possible port calls are Grand Cayman, Freeport and Galveston, as we make our way North.

Just started a book called Blood River, by Tim Butcher.  It details his quest to follow in the footsteps of fellow Daily Telegraph reporter, Henry Morton Stanley, crossing the Congo.  His journey across one of the most violent, lawless, remote and fractured countries in the world is nothing short of insane.  Over 2,000 miles of fetid, disease-ridden, impenetrable jungle, populated by brutal military rebels, cannibalistic tribes and well, pretty much by only people and things that want to or would kill him.  No roads, no law, no infrastructure and he tackles it alone, with a few grand in his show and an old motorcycle.  As I said, insanity. I'm only part way into the book, he is only just about to start on the journey and I am mesmerized by this guy.

Food blows.  The cook should be fucking shot.  I had pork loin that I COULD NOT CUT WITH A STEAK KNIFE, last night.  Well, obviously I did not "have" it, I just put it on my plate and then tried to cut it.  I actually had some white rice and two pieces of toast.  Fuck me, the pounds are just melting off but I've got a permanent, gnawing pain in my gut.  Starving to death must be extremely unpleasant :(  And on that note, it is time to shut down and head for what passes on here as "dinner".  Later people.

still alive and kicking

I'm still out here and haven't given up entirely on the blog and writing in general.  Today, I posted a product review on my other site.  Its hunter-specific and if you can't appreciate talk of anal cavities and entrails, well, you might want to skip it.  The Butt-Out (TM) is a wonderful thing, but it's not for everyone, just hunters and people who like butt jokes.

I'm back down in Colombia.  It's hot (91), sunny, windy and the seas are rough.  Work is a bitch and I'm struggling.  The lack of sleep during travel and now onboard, is making me a bastard to live and work with, but such is the nature of the job and myself.  Hopefully, things will get ironed out in the very near future and I can look forward to steaming back up to the States for the holidays.  Freeport is high on my list of places to be in 2 weeks.

I hear of a blizzard back home and wish with all my heart I was there for it.  I LOVE extreme winter weather.  LOVE.

Hope you all are safe, happy and healthy and for those of you in the Upper Midwest, warm and cozy.

First buck of the season

Heading out pretty quick to see about a second buck, but if you haven't seen my first buck of the season on one of my other outlets, well, here's a couple of shots PW took when she popped out to help me drag and gut it.  That's right, she helped me drag and gut a deer.  I am a lucky man and well do I love her.

home for deer season

Made it home. Choppered off the ship Thursday afternoon in slightly rough weather, but had no troubles. Spent a relaxing night in Cartagena with my good buddy from the ship. We hung out at the pool bar, had a few cold ones and a great meal. Later, a few of the crew showed up to tell of exploits at the festival in town. Most of them were covered in blue paint and foam. Two of them had their wallets stolen. Mine was inside the safe in my room:) Bought my girls some bracelets from a little old lady and sacked out early, but not before I sat on the balcony listening to a hired guitarist lay down both Santana and Satriani. Flying home from Colombia was also pretty decent. Very short connections at every stop was kind of tough, but I pulled it off and arrive on time at about 9:30 last night. PW was kind enough to feed me and I managed to get some sleep. Her and I are heading out in the woods to check my blind, drop off some bait and supplies for the coming week. How awesome is my wife? She put up my blind and laid out bait, yesterday, while I was flying! Yes, that awesome. Words do not do her justice. Nor do I.

and another 20 hours pass in a blur of coffee, smokes, bad food and non-stop oldies from 1972...

Long day of client meetings, report-writing, practical jokes and preparing for crew-x, looming in 4 days.  Busy as a 3-legged cat trying to bury shit on a marble floor.  Yeah.

Tree sap

So, I'm sitting in the sauna last night and I look at the wall next to my head and see a small dribble of sap coming out of on of the wooden slats and my mind wanders back to a few weeks ago when I was out in the middle of a swamp, doing some recon for hunting and while leaning against a tree, notice a small dribble of sap coming out of a crack in the tree.  The sauna, the swamp, the cracks and the sap, back and forth.  I'm the only one that uses the sauna on this ship. 

And I thought about ending up in a sauna, on a ship, off the coast of Colombia, and seeing something familiar from yet another place I hang out that nobody else visits and reflecting on how weird my life is, for the millionth time.  Growing up as middle-class, burnout, punk who didn't finish high school I never expected to end up taking a sauna off the coast of Colombia (unless it was as a drug mule), OR spending endless days in the remote woods and swamps of Upper Michigan and especially being at home and at peace, there.  And as for the sap?  Maybe we always subconsciously look for connections to home, wherever we are, but it was still a strange experience that has been on my mind all day.  That's it.

Meme for lack of better content

Read this meme on on Murder & Mayhem and for lack of anything else worthwhile to say, I decided to do it, myself.  What the hell, its better than a blank space:)

Where is your cell phone? In my closet, back in my cabin.  Left it there 3 weeks ago-I hope its still there...
Your hair? Grey and falling out rapidly, thanks to work.
Your mother? Dead.
Your father? Dead.
Your favorite food? Venison burritos.
Your dream last night? Think "The Stand" by SK.  A blogger and her child appeared in supporting roles, which was REALLY weird.
Your favorite drink? Toss up between Guinness, Grey Goose and a Cabernet I can't afford. I could include the gallon of coffee I drink every day...
Your dream/goal? To live long enough and make enough money to put all my kids through college and see them grown.
What room are you in? Processing Pit.
Your hobby?  Dunno.  My kids, hunting?  I do nothing else.  Oh, reading! (getting old and my memory is slipping)
Your fear? Dying before my kids are grown and able to fend for themselves.
Where do you want to be in 6 years? Still alive.
Where were you last night? In the Processing Pit for 18 hours.
Something that you aren't? Terribly happy.
Muffins? Only in airports
Wish list item? Utility 4-wheeler for plowing and hunting.  Or a new hammer.  Broke the claws off of mine, using it as a pry bar for 20 years.
Where did you grow up? Hitch-hiking across the country, I would have to say.  Born in the Motor City, though.
Last thing you did? Made a mug of instant coffee and smoke a cig w/ my buddy, Rollie.
What are you wearing? Orange work clothes, safety glasses and a boat knife.
Your TV? Here, the biggest, fuck-off wide-screen you have ever seen, but I don't use it.  Ever.  Home-an old piece of shit that squeals and hurts my ears.
Your pets? Idiot black lab who watches over my precious girls and I love him for that.
Friends? Mr. Budd.
Your life? I have two.  One, at home and one at sea and they are very, very different.
Your mood? Usually very dark.
Missing someone? Yes, very much.
Vehicle? 1998 Ford F-150.
Something you're not wearing? Street clothes.
Your favorite store? Freeman's Gun Shop, except they don't have my bullets this year!
Your favorite color? Black
When was the last time you laughed? Last night at #unseenprequals
Last time you cried? Cannot remember, but not too long ago, I'm sure.
Your best friend? Mr Budd.
One place that I go to over and over? The Processing Pit, onboard and my daughter's school, at home.
One person who emails me regularly? My wife, but not regularly enough.  I miss her.
Favorite place to eat? Home.  Cannot beat PW's cooking.  She rules.  Wish I were as good.

and I'll add:
Favorite place?  Here-the sauna.  Home-the woods.
Favorite musical artist?  The Satch, Joe Satriani.

Peace