Close Call

Over the last three days, my eldest daughter has been driving up from Texas to Ohio.  The entire trip has been fraught with delays, traffic snarls, and accidents all the way northwards.  Early this morning (0430 or so) we found out she’d been in an accident not 20 miles from our house.  The wife headed down to the local Dayton hospital to be there while she got checked out.  She is fine.  No broken bones or anything like that, but she is bruised on the left side of her ribs and she took a hard knock on the head from the driver’s door frame.

Seems some jerk in a red, dual-wheeled pickup was either drunk or sleepy and, just after she passed him and made for the exit from I-70 to I-675 he sped up to a high rate of speed and attempted to pass her on the exit ramp.  She dodged him successfully but a wheel dropped off the concrete and she started to fishtail.  She’s a good driver, having herded 18-wheeler’s around for a bit, so I rather imagine that the early morning dew had a lot to do with why she spun sideways into a drainage ditch.

The whole left side of the mom-mobile took the brunt of the blow.  Both left front and rear wheels are buckled under the frame.  The left rear wheel detached and is only held on by brake cables.  The air dam was shoved upwards and cracked in three places.  The driver’s door and the left-side sliding door are both jammed hopelessly.  The responding rescue units had to evac her through the rear lid.  The officer investigating told her she was extremely lucky no bones were broken given the shape the vehicle is in.

Both she and I are wondering why the air bags didn’t deploy though.  They should have, given the drop into the drainage ditch, but they didn’t.  The jerk who caused the accident is long gone – he left the scene at a high rate of speed.  If that person happens to be reading this, just remember:  Karma is a bitch!

She is now sleeping on our couch after taking a couple of pain pills.  There is no doubt in my mind that the van is a total write-off.  Thank goodness AAA has that ‘trip interruption’ coverage so she can get a replacement vehicle for the trip back south.

A local TV station has this video of the accident:

http://www.whiotv.com/video/29027281/index.html?taf=day

Coupla Funnies

After 20 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one evening when the wife felt her husband begin to fondle her in ways he hadn’t in quite some time.

It almost tickled as his fingers started at her neck and then began moving down past the small of her back.

He then caressed her shoulders and neck, slowly worked his hand down over her breasts, stopping just over her lower abdomen.

Then he placed his hand on her left inner arm, moved past the side of her breast again, worked down her side, passed gently over her buttock and down her leg to her calf.  Then he proceeded up her inner thigh, stopping just at the uppermost portion of her leg.  He continued in the same manner on her right side, then suddenly stopped, rolled over and started to watch television.

As she had become quite arounsed by this caressing, she asked in a loving voice: “That was wonderful.  Why did you stop?”

“I found the remote.”

+ + +

A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students that “human beings are the only animals that stutter”.

A little girl raised her hand.  “I had a kitty-cat who stuttered.”  She said.

The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.

“Well,” She began, “I was in the back yard with my kitty and the Rottweiler that lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!”

“That must have been scary.”  Said the teacher.

“It sure was,” said the little girl.

“My kitty raised her back, went ‘Ssssst, Sssssst, Sssssst!’ but before she could say ‘Stay!’, the Rottweiler ate her”

Word of the day

I received a funny email today and thought I’d share it with you as well as add some thoughts concerning it.  The original email:

Word of the day – Electile Dysfunction

Definition: :  The inability to become aroused over any of the choices for President put forth by either party in the 2012 election year.

This, by itself, is pretty funny and gave me a good chuckle.  But then I started to think of the one thing that would go with this type of definition.  I mean, if this condition were permanent, would you have to start taking Votagra?  If you did, then what about the side effects?  The most common would be a bluish cast to everything you see.  Not a good thing for those of you in red states, eh?

A sudden decrease or loss of vision can accompany any use of Votagra.  This has happened in the past and is still occurring within the country as a result of the last election.

Two other side effects are ‘facial flushing’ and ‘upset stomach’ or was that ‘facial upset’ and ‘stomach flushing’?  I couldn’t get it straight – no, wait, that was the original problem.

A sudden decrease or even a loss of hearing can also result from taking Votagra.  This mostly manifests itself by an inability to listed to endless commercials endorsed by either candidate.

You shouldn’t take Votagra while using nitrates.  The answer to this is to make sure you do your cold calls during the daytime and early evening.

So be sure to talk to your spin doctor about the full usage of Votagra.

Why draft the young?

I received this email from a friend and thought it might make a good blog post.  I do not know the original creator, but I can identify with him very much:

I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I’m too old to track down terrorists.  You can’t be older than 42 to join the military.  They’ve got the whole thing ass-backwards.  Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys.  You shouldn’t be able to join a military unit until you’re at least 35.

For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds.  Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.

Young guys haven’t lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier.  ‘My back hurts! I can’t sleep, I’m tired and hungry!’  We are impatient, and maybe letting us kill some dude that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while.

An 18-year-old doesn’t even like to get up before 10 a.m.  Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell.  Besides, like I said, ‘I’m tired and can’t sleep and since I’m already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical terrorist.

If captured, we couldn’t spill the beans because we’d forget where we put them; in fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.

Boot camp would be easier for old guys.  We’re used to getting screamed and yelled at and we’re used to soft food.  We’ve also developed an appreciation for guns.  We’ve been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.

They could lighten up on the obstacle course, however.  I’ve been in combat and didn’t see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training.

Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too.  I’ve never seen anyone outrun a bullet.

An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him.  He’s still learning to shave and start up a conversation with a pretty girl.  He still hasn’t figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.

These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm’s way.

Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists.  The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple of million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons; who know that their best years are already behind them.

How about recruiting Women over 50 … in menopause!  You think Men have attitudes!  Ohhhhhh my God!  If nothing else, put them on border patrol.  They’ll have it secured the first night!

More Squirrel

This morning, I found this adventurous fellow swinging on my suet block.  It managed to get around (or over) the upside-down dish-like thing I had to keep squirrels from eating the block.  So much for that.  In the final shot it seems to be looking out with a “so, what are you going to do?” look.

 

48 Short Years

Today, August 1st, is the 48th Anniversary of our marriage.  Over the years, we have been a lot of places, seen a lot of things, and done a great many others.  Throughout this 48 years, through lean and rich times, good and bad times, and even war times, we’ve remained on an pretty even keel.

As I’ve remarked to a few close friends, I absolutely cannot remember ever having an argument longer than perhaps ten minutes.  This is the truth because we decided way back when that we would never go to bed mad at each other.  This meant some late night conversations, but we never broke the rule.

Contrary to male stereotypes, I can vividly remember our wedding and who wore what.  It was a military wedding actually.  My best man was a close friend who had flown back to the States with me from the Azores.  We were in uniform.  My dad, a Colonel in the Air Force, wore his.  My four ushers were from three services: Army, Marine, Air Force.  Enlisted men don’t have sword arches, but when we left the ceremony we ran between a file of rice-throwers.

After the reception, we headed out in our trusty little Volkswagen Cabriolet convertible for our honeymoon to the West Coast.  Trust me, you really get to know someone when you are in the confines of a small car for thousands of miles.  It was a wonderful trip.  We even managed to win a little money in Las Vegas.  Neither one of us was old enough to go into a casino, but some of the slots were accessible.  We did a lot of camping since it was August.

We had a couple of large bumps in our relationship when I went overseas unaccompanied, but when we got together in both the Philippines and Japan we managed to have our two girls.  They were seven years apart, but that is a good thing I think because we tended to enjoy them more.

Over the years since I retired from the navy, we bounced around the country and finally settled down here in Ohio.  We’ve been here now twenty years and don’t plan to move further.  We grow old, but only in years, not in any other way.  I still look upon my wife with pleasure when I see her walking towards me.  We still jibe at each other playfully, finish each other’s sentences, and drive our kids and grandkids nuts with our offbeat sense of humor.

It’s been a grand tour and here’s hoping it goes on for a lot longer than just 48 years.  We’d like to take a good cruise on our 50th, so we have to get ready for that in 2013.  If someone back in 1963 had told me that I’d still be married to the same person in 2011 I would have looked askance at them.  And, now, here I am.

I love you, Babe.