Give Me a Grant to Study This

On the subject of shark attacks, I want to check out a few things.

It is a rare occurrence--sharks attacking humans. I saw a thing in which they tested the old adage about how they were crazy attracted to human blood. It turns out they like their normal fishy diet better and aren't overly drawn to it.

What I wonder is if they have collected data on what bite victims have eaten before the attack, maybe going back a few days. Also are those in wet suits more likely to be attacked?

Another thing I'd test, and PETA would hate me, is which types of other mammals are they more or less likely to attack. Not necessarily ones commonly found in the ocean. I'd have a large contained area for the tests, and suggest we start with grizzly and black bears. Just toss one in and see what happens.

Then try a skunk, a dog and cat, a dog or cat which has been sprayed by a skunk. You never know, a useful and effective deterrent may be found.

I'd also test all manner of sonic range. It may be that a tiny little thing on a surfboard that a human wouldn't even hear might run them off. Or maybe just some bear grease. If they are overly attracted to bear, maybe we could do regular sacrifices off shore to keep them happy.

I really want to test this out. In order to do it right, it probably would take more than fifty bears or so. If the skunk thing worked, that may be evident rather quickly. So, only a few of the cute little striped bastards would have to take one for the team.

If they were really on board with this grant, I'd like to see if Gilbert Gottfried is as abhorrent to sharks as he is to me. Toss him in and encourage him to talk under water.

Before I even knew it was him I used to cut the sound or switch channels when the aflac commercials came on. I hated those ads and vowed that if it ever came up I would do what I could to prevent my company from doing business with them. My employer at the time didn't so it never came up. I bet sharks would want no part of that.

And if they did, then we'd know he wasn't a good shark repellant. RIP

How to Silence Opposition, California (union) style

Really, I only barely keep up. It is simply unavoidable that I hear propaganda.

Some group is trying to gather petition signatures for an initiative that I think has to do with out of control public employee pensions or something in this state. Whether the plan is good or bad, I can't say.

My natural inclination is usually not to empower and enrich public employees, or to sympathize with unions. That I will say. Both situations can be a threat to freedom and a problem in long term economic well-being.

I do not approve of businesses being in bed with government andy more than I approve of unions being in bed with government, or the mafia. Only way to stop it is to curb many government activities, and to have a reasonably responsible populace with a bit of integrity as the norm.

Big wish, I know. The alternative, obviously, is working poorly, so don't give me that smug look like I am unrealistic.

But I'm one who recognizes that unions are big business, and in bed with what media usually refers to as big business. That is because I have better insight than most and do not have a dog in the fight, so I don't have to make rationalizations for things that go against a pure conscience.

Here's the very clever way the unions are trying to combat this initiative. Well, besides hanging around physically intimidating anyone who is collecting signatures or signing. Typical union thug tactics. How can anyone justify that? Never mind.

What the union did was form a non-profit organization which claims to be out to protect against identity theft. Then they advertise on the radio with one of those man and woman conversation skits--presumably a couple--discussing the fears of petition people stealing their identity. It is really a brilliant maneuver, albeit dirty and dishonest. But if people weren't addicted to having fears fed to them, it would fail.

They imply that the people have criminal backgrounds, and state that in California "they don't even have to be licensed and bonded!!".

One thought on that last: How can the average Joe start an initiative, and collect signatures on a petition, against the status quo through the lawful petition process if he has to be licensed and bonded--which means paying money and getting approval from those he likely opposes?

As it stands, you do have to be eligible to vote. So, if you have some crime in your past, but can still vote, you should be forbidden? Maybe you were framed for political reasons.

Anyway, a petition takes name and address--much like the phone book. The scare tactic sounds good because the man and woman sound smart, but afraid--just like you should be.

So, this way, the SEIU, or whatever affiliated union can scare people off rather than discuss whatever the initiative is about. When it is time for them to circulate petitions, I'm sure they will say that since they are a non profit and a name you can trust, you can be safe and happy signing whatever they ask.

The whole thing--this issue and almost all the really annoying ones that number in the thousands--could be pretty much avoided if our society had never given over so much of our lives to authority, and had resisted the temptation to use government to control others who don't live as we will them to live.

There is an effective limit when it comes to keeping order. That was passed long ago, and certain exceptions to universal freedom were in place from the get go. Too bad, because the whole idea is the purest ever to come along and should be sought not rejected because it never got full play. Too much control yields negative results--same as too little order.

I suppose if a powerful group who can force their ads on radio in the name of public service will convince people that going to the polls is dangerous if they fear losing. Nothing would surprise me, especially in CA.

I've pondered how such bright people can be so misguided. My conclusion is that they overthink how to control things, but are very weak in the area of mutual respect and integrity--can't resist that feeling of power and being somehow in the elite controlling class. Lots of smart people find it tough to lay off and let the lesser idiots control their own lives.

Often their feel good ideas are based on inadequate knowledge and involve things which either further their wealth or status, or don not affect them personally. People are like that, even when they have above average intelligence. Gives them someone to look down upon and a way to feel important and holy--even if it is BS.

I quit signing petitions because Ray Lutz--a big union supporter--hijacked it for his own political purposes, and because I do not trust the government to have me in a trouble maker database which may haunt me down the road. I lost faith in the government to the point that I do not believe real influence can be had. Attempting to petition the establishment is just a means of painting a target on one's back.

If the people actually want what I want, then they'll vote for the same, or cast an obvious vote of no confidence. That is still possible. But as far as writing my views to Diane Feinstein or Obama, or any of them, I see that as trouble if they or their staff read it at all. And a petition is guaranteed to land one in some database--at least that is my gut feeling.

So far, people want what they have or it would be different, but I do believe most people fail to see what they have given up for false promises and being tossed a bone now and then.

Can't Hide from Big Bro or Sis, dammitt!!!

So, there I was in Starbuck's, where you can find me about once every three months. My thermal cup of Cafe Cubano had spilled nicely on my shirt and more pertinent areas of my work jeans.

Imagine my surprise when, as I was adding sugar--real sugar--to my espresso (which you shouldn't do as per government advice and studies), I see a placard there on the condiments table explaining that, in compliance with prop 65, they needed to advise me that roasted coffee contains acrylamide--a substance which occurs naturally when certain plant matter is heated or fried. Of course, like many things, in California it causes cancer, birth defects, and horrors beyond your wildest dreams.

That's what they always write, "In California" xyz has been shown--or is considered--to bla bla bla. I can't cite the examples just now, but some of the studies which landed things on the list were proven to be bogus, corrupt, or both, yet California doesn't budge. Most likely I have been shown to cause trouble in California and soon they'll tattoo all the info on my forehead, or worse.

The placard rambled on about what the FDA has to say, which was nothing definite, but rest easy, they are continuing to wisely use tax money to study this pressing issue and will publish dietary guidelines accordingly.

Here are the substances which very well could go the way of trans fats. Or DDT. All or any of the contraband below could kill you if you are a laboratory animal and regularly ingest the stuff for the equivalent in your little years of 70 years to a human.

French fries, potato chips, other fried and baked snack foods, roasted asparagus, canned sweet potatoes and pumpkin, canned black olives, roasted nuts, coffee, roasted grain-based coffee substitutes, prune juice, breakfast cereals, crackers, cookies, bread crusts, and toast all contain varying levels of acrylamide

Oh, he's making this up. No, he ain't. The above is copied off a CA government site.

Sometime in the past I guess the people of California saw fit to vote for what seemed like a proposition to ensure safe drinking water and food that was reasonably sanitary. It apparently contained few limiting clauses, if any. Air will kill you if you only inhale and never exhale. Just wait, that will soon be discussed by these LEADERS, and with a straight face.

It is good have the ability for the populace to take initiative, but here is an example of what majority rule unhindered can do. If you simply could not involve the government in so much, many fewer problems would be had. People don't see that. Live, let live, mind your own business and don't tread on me or others.

Just the way fat politicians discuss obesity. OK for them to be plump but you should feel guilty. Talk about cruel. Why do people put up with this stuff? Oh yea. Most people get a payoff in one way or another so the whole thing just snowballs.

I'll tell you right now--they screw with coffee and I am out of here. Or I become a java smuggler. Juan Valdez and his little hijo, whatsisname, don't need no steenkeeng evangelical do-gooder committee putting them out of business.

There are a number of ways a substance can get on the list. Of course it is all highly scientific and, therefore, unbiased and altruistic. The comittees and such are to the agencies and governments involved what the extended family is to a fertile Cuban couple in Miami--multitudinous and sympathetic. That is not a racial slur.

That culture treats even the in-laws' brother like gold. I know first hand and I like it. But you can bet, if they wanted a particular answer from me on whatever matter, I'd do my best to supply the answer that pleases them.

See what I mean?

Maybe you do. Or maybe you will now conclude that my very distant Cuban relations have convinced me to ban coffee, or at least tax the hell out of it and require a prescription if you want to own it. People have concluded things equally far fetched at times. On the personal level, and on the big time news level. Just follow the antics of Al Sharpton for example.

That brings me to the latest update in political correctness. Never use the term "Black cloud" in a metaphor of any kind. I assume "dark cloud" is also out. Any reference to the color black, whether connected to shoes, cloud color, or mood is now a racist slur or the lowest, meanest, most malicious intent, no matter what you were saying.

Guess my trip gave the big O the itch. He's tooling around the heartland in not-white busses***, and the battle has begun. This will be the most underhanded, embarrassing, full of mis-information campaign yet. And it isn't even 2012 yet. Screw them all.
And anyone who thinks I'm crazy. I'm going to ignore it and vote for Ron Paul.

People go, "oh but he's a nut", yet they agree more with him than the other clowns. Who would you most trust if you accidentally left a bag of billions in gold on a park bench---Ron Paul, Obama, Romney, Perry, Jon Stewart, etc. If I had my number on it, I bet Ron would be the guy who'd call.

Besides, he's not a fan of centralized anything. Or the IRS, or however many bizarre wars we are fighting (within strict limits of engagement) etc.

They say hindsight is 20/20. Bullshit.

If that were so, there would not have been slavery after the first millennium or earlier, every damned idiot country and state in the western hemisphere would not have financial and production issues, they wouldn't build gigantic high schools that resemble prison cubes--I could go on and on.

You think people would have allowed more of this sanctioned bullying if they looked back and learned anything? Come on. The idiocy is well illustrated in what England just experienced. Riots kill. Always have and always will.

They result in more control and less prosperity. Innocent people get hurt, ruined and go uncompensated. So, it does not take a genius to know that rioting is not a very smart move, unless you are the one waiting to seize control.

On the flip side, history shows that people will kiss a better life tomorrow goodbye for a flat screen TV today.


***I spoke too soon. Apparently Oba mostly flew in, had the busses flown in, then did appearances not so far away. Not a real road trip, but if I had the company plane he has, I'd forego the busses altogether. Try as I may, I have difficult finding common ground with the Big Cheese or than we've both smoked and maybe "experimented" with other stuff at one time or another. What a BS phrase, "experimented with x, y or z". You were hoping you'd do better with the chicks. You were experimenting on getting lucky, or possibly hoped it would make you play music better.

It's Delicious, and I forget the rest

Richard's delicious seasoning, of Brown's Summit, NC, is all it claims. I find myself using it on my secret formula sandwiches, which contain all the variety of food you need in a day--protein fiber, all the essential food colors. It also makes its way onto tortilla things on occasion. If there are tomatoes, potatoes, and greens involved, it usually works. I'd say Howlin Wolf is a little bit better if eggs are in the mix, like omelets.

I cannot imagine anyone taking my advice on this, considering the fact that even other non-carnivores eat nothing remotely resembling my diet. But then many of them think they are saving the planet, bowing to mother nature, or God only knows what. I have my own views of people and types on both sides of the carnivore line. And I find I tend to harbor animosity toward elements of both groups.

Everyone wants to get inside your stomach and decide what should be there. Morons.

I'm not sure you can get Richard's anywhere but that one little country store. It is not all that far from Greensboro, in very nice rural rolling hills, piedmont country. That is probably my favorite NC landscape. That excludes the beach. You go a few hundred yards inland from the beach and I can't say it does much for me. Eastern NC is not fun until you hit the hills to the west, or the beach at the other edge. But you have to go through it to find the coast. One of those mean little tricks life plays.

I tend to prefer the north eastern to the central or southeastern. All offense intended, Lumberton and some of that area is flat, ugly and hot, with a disproportionate number of people who would have been shoe-ins for parts in the movie, Deliverance. It is very dicey if you have any auto breakdown issues in that area, on I-95 or not. In the summer time it can be very hot and humid. 90 degrees there is more vicious than 90 most anywhere else. Even the temperature is hostile redneck.

OK. So why am I starting fights with God-forsaken parts of the world? I don't know. People cannot help where they are born. Maybe they can't help much else. I begin to wonder, judging from my own life.

California is a funny place. I think a lot of the culture has that somewhat warped sense of sophistication you see on TV; where a certain erudition comes through, but the overall awareness level is pretty much clueless (especially concerning life elsewhere).

And the attitude toward the south is maddening. It is really just a matter of being ignorant. But then there are those who rear their heads to fuel the archaic and inaccurate stereotypes. The new south is not comprised of huge numbers of white bigots. It is comprised of huge numbers of black bigots, and very few white racists. Plus some of the best colleges and universities in the country are there, and have been for some time. Doesn't matter. In some circles the hate everyone who eats meat, hunts, fishes, wears leather belts or shoes, or in any way makes use of animals to further their own survival and quality of life.

There are those, too, who hate all evidence of human intelligence and industry. They are "ashamed" to be people. Come to think of it, I agree with their shame. They should feel guilty for being.

So, if you want to find a group who hates all or some of the species, it is easy to do, even in California. In some ways it is easier here than in the South in that regard.

In California, especially in movie land, I think they believe their own movies, even when they are fiction, and based on someone's guess regarding other people and places. That stuff tends to float out into the culture at large to some degree. Maybe I'm in the right place. Clueless, given to fantasy and magical thinking, tan, clueless, gullible, clueless--yea, this is the place where I fit in.

Food Saves Lives

All it takes is you donating to the international Ballistic food bank. You can send money or canned food or good pasta and stuff. We'll be sure it gets used. You can feel good knowing you are a hero and ensured that someone didn't starve.

With so few causes and charities out there, I know you like to be told who needs your resources the most, and whose demise will weigh on your conscience if you don't contribute. It's OK if you buy a mosquito net as well, but if it is one or the other, I'd say food trumps maybe being bit, and maybe being injected with a disease by a mosquito.

This has been a public service announcement

Lucky Are Those Who Have No Time To Contemplate

Where have I been, I wonder. And what is it I'm heading toward that I somehow block from my mind? I'm not so sure the answers are things of beauty.

There are times when I can't answer the phone, write a note or see anyone I don't have to see. I'm unsure why that is. The phone will sit uncharged, off, or in the car when I'm indoors, or indoors when I'm in the car. That's how I deal with it because I feel bad for not being connected with people that matter. I also don't like people that matter to know I'm off in never never land.

What can you do? I decided to get my tires rotated since it is free. They started pointing out wear bars and all that. I figured the tour shoes were good for another 10 to 15000 miles, and no way I was spending a bunch of money for tires.

The clever guy asks if I wanted to see what the price would be so I'd know. OK, I wanted to know. He gave some price and I immediately cut it short, besides, the tires I had were supposed to be good for 60k miles and they only have about 40k. Then he started messing with numbers and pro-rated stuff.

Bottom line, the price of tires that are better than what I had, with a longer milage guarantee, was a couple of hundred less than I paid for the ones that were on there. Time-wise, it seem I just got the Yokahamas yesterday. I figured if I kept them then the discount would be less when I replaced them, and if I let them rotate the new ones on schedule, if these don't hold up I'll get an even better kickback. So, it was either spend at least 200 dollars more in six months or so, or just do it now. I doubt prices will go down. It paid off complaining that I was not getting the 60,000 miles as advertised.

Since he had already played up the wear bar stuff, he could not very well back up and say they'd hang in for the duration, although they may have. In my fog, I felt I had allowed him to corner himself. I'm sure he wanted credit for the sale which may have led to some warranty juggling--I had not done the rotations to the letter, which was my end of the warranty bargain.

Maybe a dumb move, maybe not. I think it may have been smart to do it while I can, and possibly spend less in the long run. So, now I got Pirellis. The only time I ever had Pirellis was before my nephews were even born. I had them on an MG and they handled better than anything, but did not last all that long. Maybe they are better now. They are claiming eighty five thousand miles, and I intend to hold them to it. It sure rides nice. Makes me want to hit the road for year or so. Too bad that tires alone aren't the only things needed for travel.

Anyway, in my stuporous state of mind it made me feel like I was doing something constructive. And it forces me to hustle more for work. This pattern of life is not what I want. I'm a little worried about it. Or else I am not worried enough about it, and that is the real source of the fear.

Forcing myself to write this is progress. Being aware that I may be sending messages in bottles out into a vacuum doesn't please me, but that is how it goes. It is better for me to write something to no one than to write nothing. Beyond that, I really have no idea what I'm thinking or what is next, if anything.

The weather is hot, but not like the places that are really hot. This part of the country is pretty much the best climate you can have if you like sunshine and not much rain.

It would not be that hard to fade away and disappear, but I doubt that is the proper route to take. It may be compulsory, though, so you never can be sure. It is the conflict, the pressures, demands of others that actually keep life going. People think having no drama, no one nagging or pushing--just a little--is an idyllic existence. They are wrong. That sort of thing is a form of death, and it is a mistake to arrange life so there isn't a little bit of outside force, pressure and drama. You don't need much, but a little bit of consistent struggle is a good thing.

It's When the Running Stops That Brings Trouble

Don't know if it is a shadow or a blinding hot light, but it feels like it has stalked me forever. I think when I take off and go so far that getting home would take days or longer, and I keep roaming, that I manage to throw it off my trail for awhile. That is why I like traveling so much--the enemy has a tough time throwing that blanket of sadness over me, holding me hostage.

Once I'm home, I do less well at the happy evasion of the stalker. But I try. I spent years thinking I was facing it down, putting myself in jobs and situations that made it worse, but which held the promise of making me into something normal and more acceptable and OK. My definitions, obviously. What I don't know about what is normal and acceptable to others is a lot.

Fortunately there are a few people I manage to see regularly due to various obligations. Otherwise I could go months with virtually no human contact, even though I do not understand humans who hate their own kind, think bears have more right to be on earth, etc.

I'm actually amazed when I reflect upon the number of years I have battled certain demise and sadness. If the potential was ever there, as some professors, girlfriends, parent, etc. told me, then there was something else there that was more powerful which tended to thwart it. You'd have thought that a few years of cleaning dope and alcohol out of the system would be enough. And you'd be dead wrong in this case. It certainly didn't hurt, as it ensured I'd live to fight another day. It is unlikely I would have lasted much longer without some very big trouble. So, that was a good demon to face head on. It had some definition. It required a lot of change in my outlook and attitude in order to get free of the numbing agents.
Image lifted from someone named Vamane Corbin

Still wasn't enough to free me of the stealthy stalker. I may never shake that bastard. However, there are moments when I feel free and right. That is what I have to remember because there was a time when those moments were as much as a year or more apart. Now, it is rarely more than a week or two between them. Progress.

The big question is who will win, the prey or the hunter? I wouldn't bet either way on that, even though in a way I have already placed my bet that the prey will eventually vanquish the hunter. In the mean time, I'll just try to try to do...

Got Any Last Words?

It was late afternoon and I'd driven many long stretches of attractive road with not a gas station or town, so when I rolled into Loyalton, I felt I should take stock of things and decide when and where to stop for the night. Pulling into a roadside parking spot was easy enough, right in front of the Golden ??? Saloon and Motel. Can't recall for sure golden what. I think it was Golden West. I remember it really wasn't the sort of thing you could picture, like a golden nugget. Probably golden west.

It was built just like the ones you see in movies with the stairs on the outside. This was too good not to check out. I'd never stayed at a saloon hotel before. Besides, my knee was complaining loudly all afternoon. I'd tell it, "that is not pain, it is only fear leaving the body", but it did not help much.

That was the knee that went south when I had a canoe on my head, braving the wilds of Seattle. I'm pretty sure that what happened is that a bear jumped out of a tree onto the canoe just as I went to step up that bank. Bears are obese and heavy, much because they get special treatment and no one tells them they can't have trans fats and such. If we don't address the ursine obesity crisis soon, the west will probably sink a thousand feet or so and that will make for lots of bad weather.

So, I saunter into this establishment, walk right up to the bar keep and said, "Gimme yer best sasparilla." Then I looked over at some side winder whose expression I didn't much cotton to and called him out. "Yer yella, I said, and if ya ain't you'll draw. Go on,or is ya part chicken too?" I really let him have it.

Well, turns out that sidewinder wasn't afeared a'tall. Why he drew a picture of the whole town, Salvador Dali style, with cars that curved and cows that smoked hookahs, before I could finish my sasparilla. Being a man of honor, I noted that this side winder was in his purple phase and not a bit yella.

Finally, in an effort to save face and hide, I arranged for a room. The rate was reasonable, relatively speaking, and I was beat. My knee needed icing and I had my own food I could fix in the room. My room was at the back corner of the place. This enabled me to park in the gravel lot out back and go up the stairs back there. The stairs land on a deck that goes across the back of the place.

You've seen cowboys in movies fight on such decks and break the rail, falling onto whatever is below. Sometimes they jump from there onto their horses. I checked it out and it seemed too high to jump on a horse without busting things I would rather leave intact, including the horse's back.

From that deck a door leads to a hall that runs perpendicular to the deck. My room was first one on the right. A very strange woman was across the hall, but she made no trouble. I do not think anyone else was taking advantage of this inn that night.

In the morning, after a relatively restful night--my nights were not all that restful for a long time for various reasons--I gathered my things and headed down to the car.

When I was about two thirds of the way down, a voice behind me says, "hehe, know how many steps there is to a gallows?"

The guy came out of nowhere. I didn't see him in the hall when I left the room, or on the deck. I turned around and guess I gave a quizzical look, half saying, "Wha..?"

He said, "count 'em, see how many steps this is". And he half chuckled, half grunted.

"Thirteen!! That's how many steps they build for you to walk up to the gallows!", he suddenly volunteered. I had drawn the connection a split second before that and turned to grin at the guy. The Golden West Saloon and Motel has thirteen steps up to the second story rooms.

"Hha heha", him, with that semi-laugh again.

"Haha, you're alright!", he says.

"Yes, I am", I replied as I headed to load the car.

I thought I had a phone pic of the saloon. Maybe on the FLIP cam. I'll get around to it. This is taken somewhere but I do not know where. From the speckles, it was looking through the bugs on the windshield. I figured a pic at this point was better than nothing, even blurry and undefined.

This character looked like the archetypal old miner, old codger, old timer, all rolled into one. A wide brimmed floppy hat, and the rest I can't say. I suppose it was some kind of felt or canvas cowboy hat. I don't know. Old codger headgear.
Women can look at someone and know not only the material and color of clothes, shoes, accessories, but the brands as well. This guy was old codger western fashion. And he had just a bit of a limp, of course.

While I was loading the car he wandered off and appeared to go down the road. He was out to the road and out of sight.

As I was beginning to pull out, he appears at my passenger window out of nowhere, so I ask if there's a good breakfast place in town. He recommended what'sername's bakery across the street---and I must say he was right. If you go to Loyalton, stop in that place across from the saloon.

He'd actually startled me because he was gone just seconds prior. I lowered the windows and boom, there he is with his head almost inside the car and a silly grin. He talked in the voice you expect from old western miners and side winders. I was beginning to see myself as Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western.

After the whatsername's bakery discussiojn, he says, as he looks me in the eye with one of those old codger wacko stares and a hint of a grin, "Got any last words?.......before ya go". The pause between the two phrases was dramatic and effective.

Now that did catch me dumbfounded. I just looked at him doing my best to muster my inner High Plains Drifter. "Can't say as I do." There are few times in life when a phrase like that actually works for a city boy. In this case it just flowed as if I talk that way all the time. Plus it was the truth as I knew it at that moment.

My pal seemed almost pleased and almost disappointed at the same time. "Well, I guess not then, other than good bye."

Good bye, I said.

"We'll be seeing you." Not really the most comforting parting words he could have uttered.

****I searched the net a found a reasonable representation of my Loyalton pal:

Thirteen Steps

Some friends already know about my encounter in Loyalton, CA with what may have been the Grim Reaper, or just a mischievous ghost. Maybe I'll write about him later.

That's the number of steps they built in the gallows. You climb 13 steps on that last stroll.

What Can You Do; Hard to Know the Answer

Thinking about the balance of authority and individual autonomy, it is tough to figure the ultimate solution. People will abuse power, for the most part. That is obvious from behavior in motor vehicles. An alarmingly large portion of people will choose the path that inconveniences the other driver whenever that is an easy option. Things they couldn't do without the ton of steel around them. That explains the phenomenon in California of hostile young women on the road. "I"ll show you about power, Mr. Man." And the insecure tailgaters who drive oversized vehicles as close as they dare at high speed behind smaller vehicles. Rarely do they tailgate cars of equal size. More than just compensating for other inadequacies, I suspect.

But for the most part the drivers are harmless enough. It is merely the fact that in this culture we still haven't evolved beyond the petty power grab. Actually, I think we are moving backwards. In most places that power grab is expected, especially in 3rd world life. We are hell bent on duplicating that lifestyle, so here we go.

The thing about placing too much control of anything in the hands of authorities--I don't care if we do elect them--is that who is going to curb their appetite and ego? Just look what happens when you give law enforcement free reign to move from protecting your rights to making you prove you are not in violation of any of thousands of statutes and codes. People get used to it. Abuse is like that.

The same abuse applies when considering pure majority rule without constraints. The majority is not always right, fair or humane. That is what seems to be missed these days. The whole idea of a constitutional republic is to give the people voice while at the same time limiting the scope of what their government can do. It is the graying of the boundaries that has resulted in much of our difficulties. The trick used in many cases has been to ignore cases of fraud and forms of force, then declare a problem and make specific laws against Johnny putting gum in your hair or some such thing. Soon you have thousands of these little specifics, replete with conditions and special definitions. The real result is that loopholes have been provided for the real culprits, and their competitors have been thwarted in the process.

Next thing you know you have to pay for permits and bonding if you want to go door to door washing windows, so the people in the 'hood hire Mexicans who come over pretending to shop, but who really come wash your windows cheap and go home at day's end. You can't compete because you are still trying to round up cash to pay the price of being a legal window washer in one story homes.

Then you get stopped at a random check point and they write you up because one of your tail lights burned out. Who knew? But in being written up and ticketed, society benefits, although the cost of all that may be a little pricey considering they could have just said, hey the light's out, here's two bucks, go buy a bulb, and saved taxpayer money.

But, if no one pays attention, the lovely neighbors I encounter in this area would drive with no lights or turn signals at either ninety two miles per hour on the highway, or at twenty two miles per hour, or both. And the people would be bad and all that.

Although I did notice in some of the open areas with speed limits of 80 mph, people settled in to speeds which fit the terrain and conditions when 80 would be a little too fast for safe travel. It was where the limit was 60 or 65 and there was no good reason for it that they drove like lunatics.

It is always a puzzle. Who do I trust with guns more, the average citizen, or the official paid by tax money to hide and catch you doing something? Too bad the motto is not "Protect your rights and freedoms" . That one is a toss up, so I am all for people owning guns if they choose to, and not having to permit them unless they have proven themselves idiotic or troublesome in the past. I've had people shoot at my car before in Greensboro, I think, and Jacksonville Florida, but I've felt more threatened by cops, one on one, who went for their gun because I wanted to read something before signing or otherwise questioned what was going on.

Ever since Mrs Anderson, my kindergarten (alleged) teacher, I have known that authority figures are in no way guaranteed to be more decent and fair than the skid row bum, or the death row convict. That's why strict limits have to be placed on authority and those limits not loosened.