Manston Fog

A routine mail flight in a twin engine plane which test the pilots skill. Skill? Preparation is a better word.

It was a routine flight almost. Southend England to Brussels, Belgium hauling TNT freight,  occasionally overloaded twin engine Cessna. The flight usually started after flight prep and weather check by takeoff from runway 06 at Southend Airport, straight over the town. He banked left as soon as he reached 500’ to get out over the water. Frigid channel water was his desired alternative to the city concrete in case of an engine failure after lift off. He’ll die slower but with a chance of rescue before hypotherma.

The return flight around 4am was when the fun started.

He kept his ear glued to the weather broadcast. Temp and dewpoint were closing. When they equaled each other a blanket of thick ground fog would cover his destination.

He

It wouldn’t come gradually, but would appear in the snap of a finger. There are a number of alternatives to the possibility of not being able to land at the intended destination.

Manston, directly below him was a giant airfield with Ground controlled Radar capable of talking him down till his wheels screeched on the runway pavement. At 4 am, Manston was closed.  GCA was developed by MIT in 1942 and was installed at 3 major aerodromes at the height of WWII, and still used for emergency backdoor 0/0  weather alternatives. They were Prestwick, Scotland, Lyneham, Wiltshire and Manston, Kent. Lyneham and Manston were closed and Prestwick was beyond fuel range for the Titan 404.

From Manston his destination, South End, on the south east coast of England was 120 miles distant. About 45 minutes flying time. Chances are he isn’t going to make it if the temp dewpoint closes any further.

Visability was clear and unrestricted. He continued listening to the weather radio and watching twinkling lights from street lights and automobiles slide by his side window.

About 15 miles north of Manston twinkles were barely visible through the white, fuzzy cloth covering the ground .

He made a radio call to Terminal Control.

London Approach, gulf delta alpha foxtrot sierra ten miles north of Manston , altitude 6000 request vector to Heathrow for full stop landing.

Heathrow was his alternate. Every IFR flight requires an alternate and 45 minutes of fuel left in the tanks upon landing.

Foxtrot Sierra, approach Heathrow is accepting Cat II approaches only due to 0/0 visibility, came the reply. Altimiter two niner niner two.

Although ILS was developed in years subsequent to GCA, it required highly sophisticated electronics and specially trained pilots for a 0/0 landing. GCA merely required a number of practice approaches, which he had, but useless still if the operators were home in bed; normal procedure which, in the face of a true emergency, such as a pilot trapped over an impenetrable cloud deck with no available alternate,  they would be called out by Terminal Services.

The pilot asked approach for suitable alternative airports.

London Approach responded that Calais

is reporting cavu.

Calais, France is on the coast.

The pilot responds that he is proceeding across the Channel to Calais

He opens his flight bag and pulls the appropriate chart and approach plate.

He does a routine scan of his instruments, checking heading, altitude and the engine instruments.

He pulls the chart from his bag and studies it, making note of the necessary  track to the Calais airport.

Meanwhile, the author muses to himself: “Why am I writing in the third person? This was my predicament.”

Even though it’s cool in the cockpit, his brow wrinkles and nervous sweat beads up from concentration and concern whether Calais will become socked in also before he arrives. He is trueing out at 180 kts and can see the lights of Calais from over the Channel.  He estimates he will cover the 40 mile flight in 13 minutes. Halfway over the Channel he spies the airport strobe and alters course slightly straight for it.

He listens to the radio for weather on the Continent. The unemotional drone from the radio announces  dewpoint spread is closing.

He sets up for a visual approach to 06 after crossing the runway and turning downwind. Pulls off power for the decent and runs through his mental checklist:  Brakes tapped , gear handle down, flaps set, power check, radios set, altimeter set, auxiliary fuel pumps on, mixtures rich, props , icing check.

He does a double check of his checklist in anticipation of turning final.  No greens! Three greens for the landing gear down are not lit. His mind races. He didn’t hear the gear noise. All three lights can’t be out.

The gear is still in its well, he surmises. No chance of abandoning the approach and troubleshooting it further for fear of the closing dewpoint temp spread. He decides to use his emergency procedures and blow the gear down.

He cycles the gear handle up. Nothing. No sound or vibration. He places the gear handle in the down position. Nothing, waiting for the three greens: nothing. Right! The fingers on his left hand count the circuit breakers on the panel by his left elbow.  He is on the final approach leg now and setup for landing with a minor exception. THE GEAR IS STILL IN THE WELL! He’s practiced emergency gear procedures before and now MAYBE it will payoff. Three over and four back. Without looking, he pulls the circuit breaker for the landing gear motor. Immediately he reaches for the red handle connecting a cable attached to a compressed air bottle in the nose if the aircraft, double checks his airspeed and pulls the handle.

The compressed air from this bottle will blow the gear down. There is only one bottle.

“Its now or never.” He whispers.

Either way he is landing at Calais. His mind races by habit to the pilots creed: the most importand two questions good pilots keep asking themselves: What if and what’s next.

So What if the gear blows down no three greens? He waits.

He will at least save the engines and shut them down and feather the props before touchdown. He will also shut off the fuel feed having already shutdown the engines by pulling the mixtures back to full lean.

He runs through the checklist items mentally, power off, feather props, mixtures lean, fuel valve off, magnetos off, fly the airplane. (short for maintain enough airspeed in the glide to avoid a stall and crash).

The adrenalin is pumping. He’s 10 seconds from the runway threshold as three green lights blink on and he eases the craft down to a smooth and uneventful landing. The buildings are dark so he taxis to a nearby ramp where other small aircraft are parked and secures the aircraft.

He finds a phone and calls a taxi, which drives him to a hotel. He will phone his office in the morning.

Ops sends over two mechs the following morning. ‘Ok. Burst hydraulic line. Fly it back with the gear down.’ The morning was CAVU all the way back to Southend. A pilot being a creature of habit, he learned how difficult it is to resist habit, interrupt the take off check list and found himself yelling outloud as mentally ran through it. “Brakes DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, gear DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, flaps DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE! Power DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, radios DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, altimiter DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, fuel pumps DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!, icing DO NOT REACH FOR THE GEAR HANDLE!

My inner Why

Seeking my inner Why

The cosmic question. Why am I here? Why do I do the things that I do? Why is my what? I feel like I’m just a place- holder. Everyone is born with a talent, or so its said. What is mine? At 73 I’m still trying to figure that out. It’s certainly not music. After 40 years banging on my guitars, my only relief is feeling sorry for the poor things. They’re like cats without providers, foraging around, eating bugs, fighting for survival. If my guitars were alive I could be charged with child abuse. I spent most of my working life wishing I had another job till I found flying. No. I didn’t fall into it. I worked and spent all I had toward that lofty goal, attaining commercial licenses in the U.S., Canada, Sudan and England only to lose my medical before my career jumpstarted. Within a year, matter of fact.  So flying wasn’t it.  Aircraft maintenance, my initial gambit into the working world, interesting as it was, drew up short as a life’s passion, but stood me in good stead as a fall back after flying career crashed in flames.  Now , healthy and disease free, occupy a sinecure that has seen me through the great recession and has afforded me a comfortable however luke-warm life style, providing just enough income to eat, drink and smoke well while saving for retirement. But with work like this why retire? Not a career passion but somewhat satisfying and not totally time consuming. I fell into this gig; a full time job working 226 days a year. Two weeks off for Christmas, 4th of July, a week for Spring Break, plus about another 30 days in sick vacation and non-duty days. Who’s complaining but the place-holder feeling remains. The free gift everyone is born with eludes me still, or does it. If I count my blessings or heaven forbid, compare my life to another the day would run out of minutes before finishing. Janice Joplin was born to be something. Lots of people are obviously born into this world with a life mission, a pre-determined fate. Frank Sinatra sang his way through a very engaging life and did it his way. I’m still alive. Janice and Frank are not although that is unfair because Frank died at age 81. Prince was born with a gigantic talent but died at 57. Greatness cut short seems to be a recurring theme. Shooting stars vs a slow burning but everlasting sun. Place holders vs an evening’s light show. In addition these stars seem to be implanted with the seeds of self destruction. Those who are born healthy and assured of longevity occasionally choose to live in an environment toxic to their souls; surrounding themselves with irresistible temptations flying  in the face of stable, loving family relationships. Live fast die young vs hang around forever.

Those souls who are shooting stars and also finish the race seem truly gifted with not only their talent, but a calm and pleasant demeanor and the common sense to recognize the invitations to fire and brimstone. Paul Newman, Frank Sinatra, Robert Redford, who chose to live outside of the Hollywood fleshpot, but then there are those who seem to do very well there, Jack Nickolson springs to mind.

Thinking back, I’ve led a pretty charmed albiet uneventful life. Peaceful, missed all of the shooting wars. Stared death in the face a couple of times and came out ok. Avoided some close scrapes through no skill of my own. Its almost my guardian angel has orders to save me for something special.  Then got placed in Central Texas, safely tucked away from earth quakes, tornados and hurricanes with a reliable and adequately paying job which saw me through two recessions. I have enough toys on wheels , more than enough, so much that I can barely afford to go anywhere paying for the Insurance and Taxes. House is comfy, food is tasty, life is steady. God’s plan, and I may never know the part I play on his stage.  Out of my paygrade. OK. Maybe its you up there praying for me after all Mom.

 

 

 

 

Help Desk

The Helpdesk

    Network Interface is their technical job description. Other names are Customer Support Engineer, Customer Account Representative, or however else they think to describe it. A Sanitation Engineer still picks up the garbage. They need the benefit of your years of technical schooling without letting on that what you will be doing is 'Helpdesk'. You may have answered the ad for 'System Administrator', but what they are really looking for is someone to answer the phone. Read Technical Secretary.  "Technical supervisor responsible for computer hardware and software maintenance, calibration and team development etc blah blah." However pretty they can make the worm on the end of the hook, but the job is answering the phone. 'Helpdesk' is a term avoided but lurking in the back of management’s minds; acting as a barrier between the developers, engineers, management and the great unwashed out there screaming for help. Management needs your help desperately.  They not only need someone technically aware, able to cope with the myriad of issues facing their customers each day but someone able to present a professional face. They need you. They need the Dale Carnegie course you took while selling real estate. They need your closing expertise. They need your skill in asking pointed questions cleverly designed to calm the nervous, frustrated and the eglitarian know- more -than -you because you Jane, me Tarzan. People skills for short. Oh. They’re out there and the person that hires you is looking for someone who can handle them diplomatically. Helpdesk is the company's public face. Its what forms the customer's opinion of the company. Frequently it’s the only contact the customer has.  Helpdesk is the company's image presented to every caller on the other end of the line. But 'helpdesk' is a dirty word in the computer world. It's the bottom rung of the career ladder for someone who has chosen the Information Technology field. It’s usually the graduates first job. If he is to go anywhere, he needs to remain there, job market notwithstanding, for about a year before moving up to his/her desired specialty or risk pigeonholement. After a year the Information Technologist has heard and addressed most of the technical issues she's going to hear and in economists terms, has reached the 'point of diminishing returns'. The quandary for management is that while they need a multi-talented person to shield them from the mundane, a person part salesman, PR person, publicity agent, psychologist, and yes, technical,  the pool of people qualified technically are usually none of those. They need someone with the temperament and empathy necessary to deal with their customers, who while requiring help, may be technically bovine, incapable of following directions, frustrated, impatient and for the most part strung out tense, stressed. How hard is it for management to find someone possessing the humility and knowledge to run a help desk in a field of self absorbed elitist technocratic egotists whose self image is calculated by looking down on others who are less technical. For some reason the management has concluded that a 4 year degree satisfies all of the above even though an academic degree has little to do with any of it. 'B.A or B.S.' is the best they can come up with, but what they are really seeking is possibly something they they can faintly visualize but not verbalize correctly in a job advertisement.
In my interview they asked me some technical questions, but what I think got me the job was that I remembered all of the names of the people sitting in the interview and thanked each one of them by name before leaving the room. That one act, more than any degree or technical qualification rang their bells. That set me apart from the other 10 candidates and they were right. They did choose the right person and I've grown in the job by transcending the frustration and routine and developing into part company salesman, PR person, publicity agent, psychologist and technician. Every time I answer a call I learn something. Even if its never wanting to speak to that particular person again. After 5 years on the job I've learned I can contribute to the welfare of both the company and the customer by showing genuine concern for the caller's issue, solving their problem or pointing them to someone who can. There is a lot of satisfaction being a 'Network Interface' "psst...helpdesk" person. The positive feedback from a satisfied customer is immediate and frequent. In sales the saying goes there are 7 no's for every yes. In my job there are at least that many smiles and expressions of gratitude for every frown.

At the risk of self incrimination the four people who had the job before me left after one year. Did I say I've been here ten?. One was fired, one schmoozed her way into a promotion, one got married and moved away, and one left crying and screaming out the door. I too once went crying out the door. I just left. Didn't tell anyone. I just left and rode my motorcycle for 4 hours mumbling to myself. I vowed to quit. I returned and was piling all my stuff into a box when the boss called me into his office. Officially he had to reprimand me. He also showed me that he knew what I was up against when he informed me that I could walk out any time it got to be too much for me, but 'just clock out and tell me you are leaving'. His empathy returned me to my desk. I grew professionally from that experience and his guidance and since then have never had to inform him that I was leaving for the day. On this job I rub shoulders with some of the best technical minds in the business, touch on issues which would have never occurred to me, researched problems most deviant in computer, network and printer hardware and software. I've learned about viruses, malware, worms, spam, and the best (and sometimes free) programs for combating them. I've learned about imaging, operating systems, both Apple and Microsoft in addition to Unix. I can remote into other computers using 3rd party and built-in applications. I repair login problems, use Active Directory to configure user accounts, Entourage and Outlook, have become familiar with most of error codes. Most importantly I enjoy going to work in the morning. There are challenges sure but the job has taught me a little about research, a lot about people, empathy, self-defense and the value of listening. Really listening; not just to the issue, but the tone of voice, stress level, priority and how to answer and how to vary my tone of voice and transmit my concern for their issue through the miles of phone line separating us. Most importantly: get them on my side besides motivating them to provide me with the information necessary to solve their issues and get them back to work. Salesmanship.
My most satisfying customers are the janitors and food service workers. Most of them are not computer literate and are eager to follow directions. They are also the easiest to work with. The most difficult are the middle management types who are still learning leadership. While most are co-operative, some are condescending, irritable, second-guessers, non-listeners and seemingly incapable of following directions. Then there are the ones who won't explain their situation and must be prodded for information, like the one complaining of lack of permission to a file she has always had access to only to learn after a number of questions that she is logged in as someone else altogether; or the person complaining that he couldn't log in using his temporary password. He was using the letter 'O' instead of a zero. "Oh! That zero." That one took a few minutes. Will you believe an answer such as “whats the difference? They’re both round” or “ the letter O or the number O?” It begs the question of the extent of thought put into keeping a place holder with a zero when there are 9 other more sensible possibilities. A technician on a job in a previous life once told me that if nothing seems to work, the problem seems incomprehensible or doesn't make sense from what the customer is saying then "you probably aren't thinking stupid enough." In other words you may be a victim of 'assuming'.
I harken back to a conversation in a previous life as an aircraft electronic technician. The pilot says the radio doesn't work. You checked out the radio and it worked fine. What did you do that he failed to do? Describe what you did when you began troubleshooting the problem?"
"Well, I hooked up the auxiliary power unit to the aircraft"

"Then what did you do next"?

" I entered the cockpit"
"OK, we can be sure he did that. Then what?"
"I turned on the radio."
"Bingo!"
Helpdesk wise this translates to: "Oh. That's right. I shut off the power-strip on Friday and forgot." or "Well Now that you mention it I had to open the shades to find my desk."
Then there are the ones who are frustrated to the point of snapping. They have tried everything they know, have talked to their friends or associates, are most likely dealing with a deadline and have placed themselves in a pressure cooker. By the time they call you they are past the point of conscious thought and have convinced themselves that the problem cannot be fixed; least of all by you. A call to the helpdesk is taking a big risk for these types.

"Helpdesk. How can I help you."

"NOTHING WORKS"

"What doesn't work Sir"?

"NOTHING!"

Here is your opportunity to resist asking if the lights are on. Your first job is to calm them down and to remember that humor is definitely not the way to defuse them. These types are in no mood for humor. Empathy. What they want to hear more than anything is: "Miss. Whatever is wrong I can either fix the problem or connect you with someone who can." There goes the lid to the pressure cooker.  Now you can get to work. 

How about the ones who refuse to believe you because the solution is too simple.

"THAT CAN'T BE IT! That is too easy. This problem is much more difficult than that.  Otherwise I would have thought of it", they are thinking.

I once won a case of beer from a customer who called in a technician from the company because his on-site techs couldn't fix the problem.
He was a US Navy base commander in Izmir, Turkey. I flew out from Jackson, Mississippi. Arrived on site. Spoke to the techs about what they had done previously, inspected the radar, ordered two parts and retired to my hotel. The aircraft had been without radar for months and nothing seemed to fix the problem. They had replaced every component in the system and it never lasted through the next flight. Shortly after my shower the phone rang.
"The Skipper wants you to report to him in his office".
"I'll be right there..."
"You have been here a total of 45 minutes and say you have fixed the problem when my techs have been working on it for months. Now I want you to work on that aircraft till you fix the problem."
"Sir". I replied. Every part in the radar system has been replaced but the one that is causing the problem. These aircraft are 10 years old and I have repaired a number of these radars. When a radar head is ordered the antenna is not included. I have found a number of these antennas that are breaking down and arcing.  When it arcs it shorts a transistor in the radar head. During my research  I also found which transistor is failing, but that is inconsequential.  I have inspected your antenna and I can assure you this is the problem." The failed radar head with the shorted transistor is replaced, but the same antenna is then reattached causing the transistor to short out again.
"But there is nothing in the troubleshooting logs about this", he replied.
'No. It is too fresh of an issue to make publication yet.'

"Well, that's crap. OK. We'll wait for the part, but that had better be it."
"Sir, I'm confident enough to bet you a case of beer on my solution."
"You're on, but if I win. There will be hell to pay. I'll wager you that."
I shared his beer with all the techs after the aircraft returned from its flight two days later with the radar intact. He refused to join us. His aircraft was fixed but his ego dented. Another elitist shown up by the help.
In the helpdesk world the same types can't believe that the reason they can't log into the domain is that their computer clock is wrong.
"THAT CAN'T BE IT!."
    So into the realm of the possible. Out of the land of disbelief and into the reality of ether-space. Live in a world of self belief, knowing that you are the momentary solution to the hundreds of lives you touch each and every day. For an on-site tech to repair a problem it takes gas, depreciation of company resources, shoe-leather. Helpdesk does it for the price of a phone call. 
    On a personal note: It helps to be old. I have finally come to appreciate the joy in my father's favorite bit of advice to me as a youngster: "Don't think". In reality, what I think he was alluding to, , was the path to Zen enlightenment. Release from the responsibilities of creative thinking opens new worlds, almost like being an avatar in an etherspace afterlife. Without the drudgery of expectation of thoughtful contribution to management solutions, I am free from the shackles of  the diabolical and time wasting maypole of endless meetings, avoiding the echoing war cry of the Millennial Management generation: “ I knew that”.  As the helpdesk person I'm not considered as a decision maker or even a worthy contributor to issues under consideration by management. If I'm called into a meeting its usually only to answer a simple question then leave. ISN’T THAT FREEKIN GREAT!! By the analysts and engineers I'm only thought of as 'the guy who answers the phone'. Oh they are thankful that there is someone around with the patience to do it but 'don't ask him to think' is their real opinion of anyone on the helpdesk. Hell, its almost like being paid to be retired. Successful helpdeskness requires a Zen approach to ego suppression. Once you arrive at and are most of all happy with the fact that the company upper echelon community doesn't expect you to think you are on your way to corporate cube Nirvana, free in your off hours to pursue the important things in life like riding your Harley and fly fishing. Your most important text book, yea Bible, is "The Dilbert Principle" by Scott Adams. Your best friends and most fervent admirers, indeed source of job satisfaction, are the voices on the other end of the phone line. It is those voices the helpdesk must keep happy. Surprisingly, that is the hard part. The easy part is keeping your job and to do all that is necessary to keep management convinced that you are happy and enthusiastic keeping their customers happy and due to your embracing the Zen philosophy of ego suppression, and 'don't think' ideology, you are. Like Adulous Huxley's elevator boy the dedicated helpdesk person couldn't be more excited about announcing the arriving floor and the clever lad dedicated to keeping his job will convince management of exactly that. Ego suppression is a helpdesk skillset. A person wearing white coveralls with a flat lead pencil stuck in his ear and sawdust in his hair leaves a mental impression of a carpenter. A mechanic carrying a wrench around impresses people he is working even if he is only on the way to the bathroom. George Castanza wearing a disgusted look impresses people he is concerned. Anytime management is around the dedicated helpdeskee has a phone stuck to his ear and a concerned look on his face whether there is anyone on the other end of the line or not. An open technical book on his desk helps as well as a messy note tablet. Messy notes promotes management’s impression that you are not capable of organized thought, thereby helping them resist any temptation they may have of inviting you to one of their meetings.  But if they are convinced that you are good at answering the phone and keeping their customers off their back then you have arrived at paycheck heaven. You have become indispensable. On a layoff you will be the last one to go. Technical certifications become unnecessary although promoting the idea that you are diligently studying for the Helpdesk Support certification helps. Praising your boss while others are complaining is also a valued technique. It matters not what your opinion is. No one cares what you think anyway. Follow the Zen philosophy. Read and re-read 'The Dilbert Principle". An important survival ploy is detaching your self image from your job. Your job is only a paycheck. No one enjoys the satisfaction of the corporate machinery running their way unless they own the company. If you find yourself overly concerned or dissatisfied with the way the company is being run or decisions being made then start your own company. Otherwise SHADDAPP! 
    There is one danger. As indispensable as you may be to the company, you are more vulnerable than most to the boss who has a friend looking for a job. Short of showing constant dissatisfaction with your performance, your boss has innumerable resources at his disposal to make your life miserable and convince you that you would be happier elsewhere. Since you have no management power your only defense is political. You have to get his boss or someone with power on your side. There are avenues available here for the enterprising Helpdesk guru willing to extend the effort. Join the Better Business Bureau, Knights of Columbus, Lions Club. Get noticed in the community by writing concerned letters to the editor of the local newspaper. Become a Mason or Shriner or join a similar organization that contributes to the welfare of the community. Network through Linkled, Facebook. Write technical articles and submit them to the company's Sharepoint. Barring any of these know that Helpdesk technicians are in high demand and always remember that to do and keep and be happy in your job you must be smarter than the average bear while presenting an image to the contrary.

Clean Streets

Good morning losers! Wake up. I know it’s early but I have great news for all of you. Your bottles are empty. You are looking around wondering where the next one is coming from.

You are all wondering why I’m here! I am here to change your lives. All of you;
Near-do-wells, used up prostitutes, failed pimps, drunken sots and violent louts who have taken the easy way out somewhere along your path in life and wound up living in this alley.

I’m from Kleening up Killeen committee. That’s right: Kleen Killeen Streets and Alleys is our motto. I am here to entice you into a better life.

Whoa! You there , sneaking out the back. Come back I’m not through yet. An extra cup of wine for any two of you that drags him back. Good. Hey! I don’t have a cup so I will just pour it into this rag here and toss it over to you. Here you go!!

Now. As I was saying. Before I am through I am sure that you will agree with me that there is a better life awaiting you outside of this trash strewn alley. I’m talking about three hots and a cot. I’m talking about liquor and drugs and lots of it. I’m talking about spending more time drunk and less time working than you are doing now. Sound interesting? Hear me out! This is for your benefit as well as mine. After you leave I’ll clean out the rest of the garbage from these alleys and we will all be happier and better off.

Now I’m not gonna paint pie in the sky for you. You will have to work, but you work now. I’m talking about 15 cents an hour. How many dumpsters do you have to scour before you can make enough for a half gallon of Ripple. No longer will you have to wander the streets pushing a heavy shopping cart. No more begging for handouts.

Ladies and gents; how far do you wander from your resident alleys? I bet not far at all. As a matter of fact your territory from the time you venture out in the morning till you stumble back after earning enough for a quart of Thunderbird at night is probably not more than a couple of blocks. You have created a prison for yourselves. The prison you have created hardly benefits you at all.

You can’t get out of the prison you live in. That is a fact of life. Many of you don’t want to. So how about changing the prison you are in for a better one. Somewhere where you are fed and kept warm in the winter. In my prison there is tv, lounge chairs, ping pong tables, and lots and lots of Eldeberry wine. Face it. The bottom line is more wine and drugs. Prison is where you want to be…just not this one, and if you maintain your current lifestyle you won’t have to worry about having to be anyone’s girlfriend.

Yes! I’m saying go to prison. You say why and I say why not! In prison you will get yourself a raise. Did you know that there are more drugs and alcholol than there is out here on the streets. Think of it. 15 cents anf hour 8 hours a day. That’s $1.20 per day. How many cans you have to gather to earn that? I know most of you would rather drink than eat. In prison you can sell your meals. That’s right. Instead of the mushed up half a dumpster hamburger that sustains you now you can keep your free food or sell it—for cash that will buy more Gallo.

Now the working part. You are all afraid of it I know. No worries! No matter where you go in prison there are free drinks. If you are assigned to the janitorial staff there is Lysol. The Maintenance shop: Paint thinner.. and they supply the bread that you can squeeze it through for free!! What a deal. Does it get any better than this?? Just think of what you have been missing all these years. You are wasting your lives outside of prison!

Ok. How to get there. This takes some strategy. What you need to realize is that there are different terms for different offenses. The best way without a doubt is armed robbery. You go on out there and stick someone up. Make sure that you do it right in front of a police officer..Hey! Stick the police officer up. Or better yet. Walk right into a bank and yell. THIS IS A STICKUP! You don’t have a gun you say. YOU DON’T NEED ONE! All you have to do is make someone think you have one. Putting someone in fear of their lives is a felony. Shazzam! Its Miller time!!

Ok. In anticipation of the high demand for this idea I have made up a bunch of papermache’ pistols and painted them black. Believe me You point it at someone they will think it’s the real thing. It worked for Billy the Kid and it will work for you. It works especially well on police officers so no pointing it at Police Officers. They have real guns. If the need to rob a police officer overcomes you then just walk up and say: "Officer. I have a gun in my pocket and if you don't give me all your money I will shoot you. Its best to attempt this with both hands already raised.

Ok. Come on up here and get your pistols. Hey! One at at time. Hey. Stop shoving. Ok. You want two. Now that shows initiative! That’s the spirit. Stick up two at a time. You will go far my man!

In conclusion one bit of advice. Use your remaining brain cells to best advantage. Consider the alternatives. Look down the road a piece. What if after a few years in the slammer you change your mind. Armed robbery with a paper gun may get you 8 years, at the end of which, you may decide to clean up and start paying taxes. You can do that. Leave that option open. Now stupid is as stupid does. That idiot that shot the lady in San Francisco doesn't have any options other than to top himself because he will never see the light of day again, or worse yet, get deported to Mexico again.

Ok. Action time. Hey why not show some of your new found business sense and cut out the middle man. Go directly to the steps of the court house and start sticking up people. I don’t expect to see any of you back here so I’ve taken the liberty of scheduling a frontend loader and dump truck for your belongings. Whats that? No. Don’t waste time thanking me. You guys are great. I love you.

Sept 27, 2015

The speaker of the house is retiring. After years of trying to advance a republican agenda through compromise with an uncompromising President, he is giving up his speakership to another, yet to be named. Another who, with possibly more vision and foresight enough to make progress under the current presidential burden. He gives up his leadership, making the ultimate sacrifice, in hopes that another can carry the flag of our country toward victory against the ugly dragon of socialism.

He is disappointed that the backlash to an oppressive White House is the Tea Party . He has grown tired and no longer wants to fight the good fight but to relinquish power to those who eagerly will.  What he fails to see is a right wing answer to a left wing agenda. Khrushchev said while pounding his shoe on the podium long ago that capitalism will fall from within.  Khrushchev understood the mentality of those great unwashed , palms up, willing to lie on their backs, legs spread, looking for the nirvana of a belly rub. The Tea Party sallies forth in the face of that prediction. It recognizes the fate of us in our forbearers: Europe. America does not stand for handouts, the welfare of  lazy masses at the expense of the few, struggling with everyday challenges toward the American Dream.  I’m trying to be academic, to convince you I’m a member of the intelligencia. In truth I’ve never understood the mentality of liberalism. There are those who are long past coming of age, working for a living and paying taxes, obeying the law whose hearts bleed for the lazy, good-for-nothing, the-world-owes me a living Worthless. Like country boy Guber who feels life is less than  complete unless surrounded by the  stench and baying of hounds and barking mutts through the night.  What if we could round all the good-for-nothings up and put them in cradle to grave concentration camps. Instead of tax draining welfare payments, just round them up into one section of the country. Like a reservation with an un-ending supply of McDonalds hamburgers, pizza, alcohol and drugs. What would the liberals argument be then? “imprisoning the poor, jack heel on the weak”, they would cry. While the hue from the reservation might be: “No no! Go away. We are happy. Enough . Please stop saving us from the oppression of Capitalism.“ Whoa! Welcome to Valhalla. The meaningful can go on happily about their getting while paying a fraction of what it is costing them under the present circumstance. Of course the liberal left would never stand for this. It would be the end of them with the reservation solidly in the Tea Party’s camp. The workers and unwashed together would be voting Republican.