Thoughts and Musings of a Renaissance man II

For Amber and Paul, stay tough

Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines

Ever wonder what you call a pocket calculator at a nudist camp.

Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?

Why do “fat chance”, and “slim chance”, mean the same thing?

Why do we drive on parkways, and park on driveways?

Why does “slow down”, and “slow up”, mean the same thing?

Just think how much deeper the ocean would be, if sponges didn’t live there.

 If it is tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?

How do you tell when you run out of invisible ink?

Ambition is a poor excuse, for not having enough sense to be lazy!

If the #2 pencil is the most popular, why is it still # 2?

If it’s zero degrees outside today, and it’s suppose to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold is it going to be?

When two airplanes almost collide, why do they call it a near miss? It sounds like a near hit to me!

Why is abbreviated, such a long word?

Why doesn’t Tarzan have a beard?

Why is it that night falls, but day breaks?

Why it is the third hand on the watch called a second hand?

If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?

If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

Why isn’t 11 pronounced, onety one?

Why do overlook, and oversee, mean opposite things?

If man evolved from monkeys, and apes, why do we still have monkeys and apes?

What do you do when you see an endangered wild animal eating an endangered plant?

Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.

Would a fly without wings be called a “walk?”

Why do people who know the least, know it the loudest?

My friends, we have only two things to worry about: That things will never get back to normal, and that they already have.

If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?

Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog -few people are interested and the frog dies!

Some day we will all look back at this, laugh nervously, and change the subject.

Why do we put suits in garment bags, and garments in a suitcase?

Why do we wash bath towels? Aren’t we clean when we use them?

Jack Handy: “ It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at them.”

If a kid says “why is it raining?” I think a good thing to tell him is, “God is crying?” If he asks why, tell him, “It is probably because of something you did!”

Why doesn’t glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

Why do they call it a TV set, when you only have one?

Christmas oxymoron: what other time of the year, do you sit in front of a dead tree eating candy from your socks?

Quantum Mechanics: The dreams stuff is made of.

For Sale: Parachute. Only used once, never opened, small stain.

Boycott shampoo! Demand the real POO!

Why is the word big, so small and the word little, so big?

Before they invented drawing boards, what did they go back to?

Why are there 5 syllables in the word monosyllabic?

If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?

Tell a man there are 400 billion stars, and he’ll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint, and he has to touch it.

And the battle continues . . 

immitis pugnae manet

Leg Points – Blind pig finds acorn

So the nationals are over, as a member of the TSRA Precision Pistol team we did pretty well. As an individual didn’t do too bad either.

Final count was I managed to pick up 20 of the thirty points I need to be awarded the distinguished pistol badge.  Not bad, picking up any leg points is usually an accomplishment. I should know it has taken me 8 years of serious competition to get these.

I was in the right place at the right time. A small Arms Marksmanship school is conducted by the AMU for non0distingushed shooters on day one of the nationals. I shot it because I wanted to get in some practice. Then turned out I won the match. Cha Ching, 10 leg points in the bank.

Later, on the last day of the matches,  I picked up 10 more in the 45 EIC leg match. If I can find my paper work from 1974 I can import the 8 points I won then.  That would leave me 2 short. Film at 11.

This here shooting is getting a tad bit expensive, between fuel to get to the matches and ammo, both for practice and matches I am pouring a ton of money into this hobby. At least it keeps me out of bars at night, can’t afford to drink.

Up next, New Mexico state championships and the week after the regionals in Wichita Falls.

Eminus magnus sclopeta

10 – X, Not my shirt size

10 – X, No not my shirt size. After all, I am a svelte studdly little over 200 lb hunk of a man.  No, the 10X is a reference to the center bullseye.  The X count is the tie breaker, the number of more centered 10 ring scores.

Now, what the hell does this mean?  Three years ago when I was sick and weak, I reflected on things I hadn’t done or should have done. AKA the bucket list.

One of those items was competitive shooting. Back in my Marine Corp days I was a pretty good shooter.  I actually won several Marine Corps Reserve championships, both as an individual or a team shooter.  But then the unit I transferred to didn’t field a team so I stopped shooting.

Fast forward to two years ago, I was on the mend and I decided to start shooting again.  WOW! I was appalled at how bad my pistol shooting had fallen to. The first match I shot I was definitely in the marksman class, two levels below where I used to be. 

As I continued shooting more matches, the scores came up and with the first reclassification came around I was back in the Expert class.  Currently I am shooting scores right on the Master class cut off point.

Last month I shot the Texas state outdoor matches and did pretty darn good won two of the 16 individual matches and placed 2nd or 3rd in another 9.

This week I head to Ohio to shoot the national pistol championship matches, how good I do is going to be a factor of how well I can stay on target.  If the competition doesn’t get me rattled I think I can finish in the top 10%.  I will be shooting in the expert  class  but I have, and know, I can shoot Master class scores.

The question is, will I?  1199 miles 17 hours is the goggled maps prediction. I head out tomorrow about noon and hope to be there Sunday by noon. Regardless, I will have shot the National Pistol Championship matches and that’s a check mark. so the matches end a Sunday the 12th, I guess I will fess up to how I did after that.

dum vita est spes est

Roll Over, Play Dead, Good Dog,

Sometimes, most of the time, not.  Ziggy the wonder dawg got under foot last night. Literally, and of course I did my best impression of a swan dive, a dying swan.

Note to self, concrete patios are harder than the grass. Second note to self, glasses are not good shock absorbers.

Ziggy was unharmed, she even came over to check on me.  Luckily for me nothing broken so I guess it’s all OK.

dum vita est spes est

Warm wash, cool iron, NOT!!!

Did you ever notice the disturbing trend to idiot proof our society? I mean like really, who is going to use a lawn mower to trim the tops of hedges.  And I used to think normal sane people knew not to use electrical apparatus in the bath.

Now with clothing they might be on to something. I mean it!  Took me 40 years of doing laundry to figure out that washing everything in super hot water wasn’t the best of ideas.  Of course my son got a lot of new shirts.

I don’t quite understand the concept of a cool iron, near as I can tell mine has three settings, off, burn the hell out your bare skin, and instance scorch marks or melted cloth. Maybe a cool iron is one that looks good.  Of course if I was to say, “that iron looks good in your hands baby”, I might get said iron upside my head.

Any, the gist of the comment is that I looked at my key fob, that lil doohickey I use to unlock, lock, and start my truck with. And guess what?, unlike my fine Hawaiian shirts, there are no laundry instructions.

That’s right, nowhere does it caution on the proper means to wash one.  Turns out I did, just in the regular laundry load.  Of course when I took it out of the washer I knew better than to dry it. I remember what that can do to shirts, promotes wrinkles and such, and I didn’t want a wrinkled key fob.

Now fast forward to about 1AM.  I hear the truck locking itself, you know, two short beeps. And seeing as how I’m all snuggled up in bed, seems strange.  Wow there it goes again, maybe something/someone is robbing me, but at least they are locking up after themselves.

Shoot fire, I don’t even grab one of the many bang sticks or hand held hole punching devices at arm’s length. I just get up in my BVDs and wander out to the driveway to see what’s going on.

Beep Beep! Lock and unlock, only now I’m standing in the beams of the headlights in me BVDs. Guess I‘ll head back in the house.

Must have hurt’s it’s feelings, the  “ they’re breaking in to me!!!”. alarm commences to go off.  And seeing how my neighbor lady’s bedroom is right there about 10 feet away, I quickly realize I need to do something, like take the damn thing apart and take out the battery.

And just in case other neighbors haven’t been sufficiently warned, Ziggy the wonder dwag commences to run to and fro barking up a storm raising the alarm.

I went back in, locked the door and turned off the lights.

dum vita est spes est  

I hate charley

I do, I hate charley. That insidious bastard keeps popping up, My brother is now preparing for his battle. He is better prepared and just as anxious to kick charleys ass to the curb.

At least he saw what I had to do and that's helping a bit.  The battle is a personal thing that is not fought alone, but with the support and encouragement of friends, family and care givers.

As he will soon find out, Dr appointments are like seeds in a fertile field, they are going to sprout up everywhere.

But he is not going to be fighting this without a tremendous amount of support, I owe him big time for the support he gave me in my battle and now I get to pay it back.

After much consideration, he has decided the best way to chronical his trail and tribulations is with a blog. 

Visit it as it gets underway

 http://pvadamsupdates.blogspot.com/

charley has once again messed up, bro Paul is a former Marine and I do believe he is going to enjoy this fight, The ass kicking can begin.

Until this battle is won, I am putting my catch phrase on hold,

 Laissez les bon temps roulez will be back until then it's 

dum vita est spes est    

The good times, but three years and three months ago I woke up to the fact there was trouble in River City.

So many ways it could have gone, good thing my head was screwed on straight. I could have given up but I chose to fight.

Whit the help of my friends, prayers from a lot of people, and skill and dedication of the doctors, nurses, and helpers at Texas Oncology, we fought back and kicked charleys ass.

Towards the end, it was rough. And the recovery wasn't very pleasant either. But as I said, all the support I got from family, friends, and sometimes, complete strangers, I made it.

For a while, I was going back in every two months and then I graduated to once every three months. two years of that and we moved to a six-month schedule.  Once a year we do a PET scan and so far those have come back clean.

Today was the regularly scheduled visit to the radiation oncologist. and I got the following news:

With the type of cancer I had, being cancer free at two years, there was a 95% chance it wouldn't return. Being cancer-free at three years, it is considered to be cured.  The doctor used that word, CURED.

Not throwing the bucket list out, I got things to do, places to go, and people to meet.  I have a compassion for others fighting the battle, I want them to know they are not alone in their battle, myself and other survivors stand with you.


I hate charley and charley hates Hawaiian shirts.

Laissez les bon temps roulez 

I hate charley

I hate charley

I’ve been pretty lucky. My battle against that bastard has gone in my favor.  You can’t let your guard down. He is a sadistic bastard that is always lurking in the shadows ready to attack.

Since my trails, my hunting buddy fought the prostate cancer and his bride battled breast cancer. They join me as survivors.  We aren’t cured, we are cancer free but we remain vigilant.

A co-workers wife fights a new round, her ‘s came back and has attacked the brain. We support her with words and deeds and prayers but she is fighting a mighty battle.

Tomorrow I see the oncologist for my three year checkup and get the results of the last               PET scan.  Wish me luck.

Laissez les bons temps rouler

P51 Mustang!

Yep. That what is was, a P51 Mustang, or maybe a F86, ore maybe the new B-58 Hustler.

It was Christmas eve, the magical night before. 

The older kids went to midnight mass with mom, we stayed home and if we were lucky we got to open one present, a little one, to help stave off the hunger.

Shake the present, enough noise and you knew it was a model airplane, take a couple of hours to assemble and then it would be night time and Christmas was just hours away.

Christmas is for the kids, my kids, now my grandkids, but that magical moment just before, I miss it. . .

Merry Christmas all

Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler