Improbability Trough

Riverscapes Wallpaper

2011-09-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

I was browsing for kayak or canoe view riverscapes and only found a few I really liked. I decided I ought to take some while on the river.

Hope you like them,

Twist

The Couple Who Knew Too Little

2011-06-22T16:13:00.001-07:00

I was inspired by a show I saw a number of years ago, The Man Who Knew too Little, with Bill Murray. In the show, Bill Murray’s character, intending to participate in a personalized live drama called The Theater of Life, gets caught up in a real adventure of murder, intrigue and mystery.

About a year ago I decided that the storyline could be adapted to a date with my wife for a birthday or anniversary. The birthday came and went without sufficient planning to pull off the event, but as our anniversary approached I began fine tuning the details.

Ideally the scenario needs 5 or 6 actors, but we made do with 4, starring some of my children and their spouses, each dressed for the part. All got pretty caught up in their parts, one in particular with makeup to portray a dead body.

Stage One was the First Contact to start the “assignment.” I had planned a telephone message, but couldn’t quite get the machine to accept the audio so had to settle for an email message. It went like this:

“Help me Obi Wan Kenobi. You’re m only hope.”

This was Princess Leia audio from Star Wars. The second part of the message came from an internet audio reader. I picked a British/Australian female voice that said, “Be at Barnes and Noble at exactly 6:03pm. Look in the 2nd Bourne Identity book from the left.”

Our Stage Two actor placed The Rules of Jason Bourne in the appropriate book just before we arrived then waited, hidden in the stacks for us to arrive. Hand written at the bottom of the rules were the words, “FOOD COURT ASAP SIT.”

After finding the rules in the book we proceeded to the food court in the mall, unknowingly followed by the actress from Stage Two. Almost immediately after sitting at the food court, my wife with her back to the approaching actor, a newspaper was placed discreetly on our table and the actress, wearing a scarf and sunglasses, walked on.

I use the word discreetly, but I was wearing a tuxedo looking 007 outfit, my wife her slinking dress and we both were wearing sunglasses. Amazing how few looks we actually got. You wouldn’t believe some of the other outfits we’ve worn to the mall.

In this Stage Three the newspaper contained a paper rolled up inside. Originally I was going to have an airsoft gun rolled up in the newspaper also, but it was too bulky. The clue paper had a picture of a prominent landmark in town and words printed like cut out newspaper letters that said:

“REMEMBER CODE WORDS FROM THE START.”

We made our way through the mall back to the car and travelled to the landmark. I had set a time schedule for each stage of the drama, but needed to drive it ahead of time to make sure. Generally we were close.

In Stage Four at the landmark the next actress was wearing a white wig and wearing a black outfit. When my wife asked if she was our next contact, she asked for the passcode. My wife dutifully repeated, “Help me Obi Wan Kenobi. You’re m only hope.”

The contact showed us a Toppest Top Secret envelope, placed it in a briefcase and locked it. She handed me an airsoft gun, handcuffed the briefcase to my wife’s right hand and said, “Deliver this to the Institute. You know, the Institute.”

Note to self: when doing this again handcuff the case to the LEFT hand. My wife had her purse on her right shoulder, which now could not be removed; she couldn’t close her door by herself or fasten her seat belt properly.

The Institute was not very far away and we arrived easily 10 minutes early. We drove a few blocks away to allow the scene to be set. Our Stage Five contact, as we arrived, was seen, apparently dead (with great makeup) on the grass. Clutched in her hand was a blood-stained note. After we pried it from her hands we determined that it contained GPS coordinates in Spanish.

My wife translated the numbers (with a little help from me) and I put them into the GPS I had conveniently brought with us. Actually I had input the coordinates previously to save time. Here again, note to self: Go to the actual location sometime earlier and get the EXACT coordinates instead of trusting that the internet website is right, then try them at least once.

I had started our car and faced it towards the exit of the parking lot so that my wife would not see our Stage Five “dead” contact get up and run to her car to join her husband. At this point I announced to my wife that we were being followed. We drove away from the parking lot with the intent to “lose them” in a nearby parking garage. Unfortunately I went the wrong way and the chase car got stuck at the light. Since they knew where we were going they actually beat us there, but, not seeing us, proceed to the final location at Stage Seven.

Upon arriving at Stage Six, we, of course, were supposed to be unaware that we were no longer being followed and made our tire screeching trip to the top of the parking garage and back down again. This did have the added advantage of helping the GPS to get a good satellite fix.

On the way to Stage Seven, the GPS coordinates were not exact so I drove into the Applebee’s parking lot anyway. Our final contact was there dressed similar to me. He asked if my wife had something for him and she said it was locked in the case. He told her that the combination was a very important date for us. It was the combination in two digit month, day and year of our anniversary.

My wife opened the briefcase and handed him the sealed envelope. After opening it, he handed back a note which said, “Enjoy your anniversary dinner at Applebee’s.” The envelope also contained cash to pay for dinner, a key to the handcuffs and a note that said, “You already have a key to my heart. Here is the key to the handcuffs.”

At that point my wife and I went inside and enjoyed a delicious anniversary meal.

I put on my Facebook page that 31 years ago I made the best decision of my life and married my sweetheart. I’ve never regretted that decision.

Happy anniversary to us,

Twist

You Can't be too Careful

2011-04-04T07:24:00.000-07:00

My wife and I are avid garage sale aficionados. She says that she decided this week that we qualify as professional garage salers. While this means we find many treasures hidden amongst the piles of leftovers, this also means that we have to store those many treasures somewhere. With that problem we periodically have garage sales of our own to attempt to unclutter our home. Lately we have also begun selling things on the internet, mainly through Craigslist.

Craigslist provides a free venue to post descriptions and pictures of items we want to sell in a local market. Did I mention it’s free? We have had some success selling things in this manner. My latest attempt is to sell a large monitor for a Mac computer, back and middle seats to a Chrysler Voyager van and a very new motorized wheelchair.

I posted descriptions and pictures of each item and shortly emails began arriving asking if each was still available. In an attempt to be fair to all, I answer emails in the order they arrive. For future reference I will mass email all and give more detailed contact information then sell on a first come first serve basis.

The wheelchair was the most expensive item. Quickly I received an inquiry regarding it. After replying I received another email requesting more information, then another requesting additional pictures. Soon the potential buyer wanted information for a shipping company he contacted to ship the item. I don’t offer shipping, normally. It was exciting anticipating such a sale.

Soon I got an email from Paypal stating a payment had arrived. That’s when things got weird. The email stated that since a third party carrier was involved in the shipping, the funds would not be released until they had notification of payment of over $300 to the carrier. That’s also when the bells began ringing. Scam alert! I emailed the buyer to let him know that I would not fall for this scam and that I was forwarding copies of all the emails to Paypal Security. Amazingly enough, I know, but I have not heard any more from buyer or carrier. The sad part is that if he had perpetrated the scam smarter I would have shipped the wheelchair (on his nickel) to him and would not have received a valid payment. Now, however, I’m another day older and another day smarter, hopefully, and will avoid potential scammers in the future.

Stay strong. Stay aware,

Twist

Walking

2011-03-15T14:12:00.001-07:00

I’ve always loved to hike in the wild. Unfortunately, the wild has usually been far from where I live. My preferred path would be no trail or, perhaps, a rabbit trail. Where the foliage does not allow simple cross country ambulation I defer to the beaten path. In the city, usually grass is preferable to the street.

While walking, I watch the ground for signs (animal tracks and such for you city folks), interesting rocks, plants and whatever else catches my eye or stirs my imagination. I tracked a deer through a twisting turning maze of honeysuckle one year. As a youngster I came across a horned toad skull. It looked for all the world like a miniature buffalo skull. In Kentucky I scouted for morel mushrooms that are prized by all fungi collectors.

City walking, while there is occasional nature to be seen, usually results in finding mostly man-made treasures in the road. If you want to collect aluminum cans for about a nickel a piece there is a limitless supply. When I walk the roads I pick up the more solid items that could puncture a tire. I collect the nails, screws and bolts that lay strewn along the road. Occasionally I drop them down the water meter key holes, but usually throw them away at home. The largest item I picked up was a six foot piece of rebar.

This week as my wife and I were walking I noticed a small shiny card on the road that turned out to be a driver’s license. Though the address was on the card, I couldn’t find a phone number online or in the phone book. In this modern age of technology, however, I did find the girl listed on Facebook and sent her a message. We even had a mutual FB friend.

When the mother picked up the license she told me that her daughter left her wallet and car keys in the car, unlocked, apparently. Someone stole the car and wrecked it. They probably emptied the wallet of anything valuable and threw it away, or at least the driver’s license. The license might have been useful except it was a provisional license for a minor and expires in a few more months.

I’ve learned from all this. If you need a piece of rebar, go for a walk. Lock your car. Take your keys. Hide your valuables. Oh, wait. That last bit is from the sign at the mall, but I guess it’s still sound advice.

I wonder what I’ll find today,

Twist

Dxing

2010-07-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

At first glance you might think this blog is about some obscure Chinese or Mayan word. Now, really. A Mayan word would start with Dz and probably not end with the "g". Those in the know are aware that the term "Dx" stands for long distance as it applies to ham radio. With a good ham radio capable of operating on frequencies between around 2Mhz to 10Mhz, a licensed operator can make contacts hundreds and thousands of miles away.

Ham radio equipment is not cheap and usually isn't space convenient. Like hospitals and government, a ham shack is usually continually expanding. You generally start with a radio and an antenna. The radio usually needs a separate power supply. Most antennas aren't perfectly adaptable to changing frequencies and an antenna tuner is needed to make the antenna work well. Since operators like to know how much power they are generating they have a separate power meter or one incorporated into the antenna tuner. When hams (a licensed ham radio operator) notice how little power their meter shows they are transmitting, they decide to add a linear amplifier. A linear amplifier increases their signal output from usually about 100 watts up to 1000 watts or more, even though the Federal Communications Commission has rules limiting the output on certain frequencies to much less than 1000 watts.

Hams are always looking for ways to make their antennas higher, longer, thicker, thinner, more directional, more omni-directional and generally more functional. These endeavors lead to greater output...from their wallets and more input from their wives and neighbors. Contrary to the rumors, a properly tuned rig (combination of all ham radio equipment) should not interfere with neighbor's tv reception.

The number of radios in the shack magically multiply. The Dx equipment, for HF (high frequency) radio, is overkill for local communications. Ham operators usually accumulate a variety of radios that include VHF equipment for local to medium range and often UHF equipment for very local communications. Radios range from large base units to mobile units that fit in a vehicle to hand held (HT or handie talkie) units that can be clipped to a belt.

The most important requirement of a ham radio system is the most logical one. You must have someone, somewhere to talk to you. It's not much fun having half of a tin can telephone. It gets really boring really fast. Add the second person component and hams will talk endlessly about to others describing their rig in detail, then letting the other person describe their equipment and layout.

Personnally I prefer to use a radio similar to a telephone. I like to talk to family, friends and others about topics I would discuss over the phone. Why not use a phone, some would ask. When emergencies arise and power is out, hams are usually the voices that are heard through the airwaves coordinating rescue efforts. That standard answer aside, it's just cool to talk over equipment that is not taxed, charged by the minute or impeded in general by someone else.

Currently only one member of my family has a license, Lonehawk. He and I attempted a few times to connect. When we finally established communication, it worked better than we thought it would. Granted, we had to wait till 11pm CDT to do it, but there is something calming about hearing the familiar voice in the darkness that you know is hundreds of miles away. True, the call usually starts out, "I can hear you. Can you hear me?" but the sense of accomplishment makes it all worthwhile. The world isn't quite as large as it once was and at least one conversation less lonesome.

73's

Twist

Twi Dilemna: Edward vs. Jacob

2010-07-01T15:16:00.000-07:00

Stop by any conglomeration of two or more females these days and you will likely hear a heated debate in progress: Team Edward vs. Team Jacob. If you have never read any of the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer, then you will most assuredly be in the dark about the discussion.

Suffice it to say that Jacob, a teen werewolf (Hmm, I think that’s actually been done before. Anyone ever heard of Michael J. Fox?) and Edward, an immortal, vampire teen, are the heartthrobs of every reader possessing ovaries. Forget the fact that both were always considered monsters throughout history that slaughtered mortals in a very bloody manner. We are to forget that a snake is a snake and accept that both these individuals are different from what we have learned. In fact, we are supposed to accept that they are different from others of their kind in the series.

Edward, who can hear every thought of every person except, of course, his mortal girlfriend, is evidently the perfect man, the perfect boyfriend. I tell all my guy friends who have not read the Twilight series that if they want to understand how the female mind works they need to read these books. I’m not saying that women understand men, but that they think Edward and Jacob are nearly perfect.

I read the series, plus another book by Stephanie Meyer called The Host. I enjoyed that book as much as, if not more than, the Twilight books. I’m definitely a Stephanie Meyer fan and will read other books she writes, but let me just state for the record that I am not for Team Edward or Team Jacob. They, along with Bell, are both neurotic and exhibit the normally female self-destructive behavior.
Make no doubt about it. With her looks, talent, strength and she can see the future, I am 100% aboard for Team Alice
Twist

The Royal Nonesuch

2010-05-08T08:17:00.001-07:00

If you have ever read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain, you are sure to remember a couple of characters that crossed Huck’s path by the names of the Duke of Bridgewater and King Looy the Seventeenth of France. They were a pair of scoundrels if ever Mark Twain wrote of any. At one point in their time with Huck, they decided to put on a production of The King’s Camelopard or The Royal Nonesuch. The second title better fit the so called Tragedy as the scene played out in this manner:

“he rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come a-prancing out on all fours, naked; and he was painted all over, ring-streaked-and-striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a rainbow.”

The production was a scam which went very bad on the next night.

You might also remember the scene from the movie Mr. Mom in which the housewives basically shanghai Michael Keaton and take him to a strip club featuring male strippers.

These two references may appear to the casual reader to be totally random and unrelated, but I assure you they are quite relevant to the setting in which I found myself last night.

The teachers and staff at the elementary school where my wife works decided to go en masse to a play at a small theater in a nearby small town. The play featured two actors in The Mystery of Irma Vep, by Penny Dreadful. The main reason they wanted to go is that one of the two actors is a teacher in their school.
The Mystery of Irma Vep has approximately half a dozen characters, male and female, which are all played rather flamboyantly by the two male actors. The over-endowed female characters wear extravagant drag outfits which in some cases would put The Bird Cage actors to shame.

The plot entails werewolves, vampires, mummies and a great deal of confusion, but as the Duke and the King of Huckleberry Finn’s experience, there is a great deal of humor. I would not accuse them of overacting. I would never do that. I wouldn’t have to even mention it for anyone who saw the play. Let’s just say that Jim Carrey and Chevy Chase might have felt like amateurs in comparison to the actors of The Mystery of Irma Vep.

If the acting on stage has been adequately portrayed here by me, then you might be able to also picture the antics of the teachers and staff. The second reference from Mr. Mom would most accurately describe the audience around me at the play. The only exception would be that no one stuffed dollar bills down the entertainer’s clothing...at least, not that I saw. Feet stamped on the floor, raucous laughter, cat whistles, yelled comments and rolling in the aisle was the norm, and that was just my wife on one side of me and a friend on the other.

We started the evening by driving 45 miles to a small restaurant to eat dinner. We brought somewhere between 25 and 40 people to the town for dinner and the play. I ordered a banana milk shake to go with my bacon cheeseburger and onion rings. My wife had at least half of my milk shake after tasting how good it was. When the play was over we returned to the drive in, but they had shut down their milk shake ice cream machine. We found a Sonic drive in that was still open and got a few milk shakes there then undertook our return journey of 45 miles home arriving at about 10:30pm.

All in all it was an interesting day to say the least. I know all my female relatives and readers would have enjoyed the evening. Just like most of you think Julia Roberts is the most beautiful actress and love chocolate.

‘Nuff said,

Twist

The Next Samurai

2010-03-18T20:46:00.001-07:00

I like to read books. Not like my wife, who reads several books a month, but I still like to read. I like to take my time reading a book to savor it, live in its pages as long as I can. A good author makes me remember experiences I have had and makes me feel as if I am experiencing something I never have before.

When I read a good book I feel the cool, oozing river mud between my toes and practically choke on the foul smell of decay that rises from the brackish slime. When a wizard sends forth a spell from his wand, staff or hand the hair on my head and arms stands on end from the sheer power passing by and my teeth vibrate as the power impacts with its prey.

Many authors satisfy my literary tastes, though I prefer fantasy with magic, swords and mythical creatures, I also delight to read science fiction with its tantalizing view of the world that is about to materialize in a not so distant future.

A friend of mine loaned me a book that does not fit any of these categories, nor does it satisfy the literary taste buds, but it did give me so much to consider that I find myself reading, re-reading, highlighting text and then pondering its applications. While this appears to be a reading ritual you would undertake with the scriptures in hand, the actual book is far from the divine word.

A Book of Five Rings, written by Miyamoto Musashi, is basically a how to book for the Samurai warrior. The chapters entail lessons on how to fight and defeat your enemy. Having said this, most every Japanese businessman has a copy of this book that he keeps with him and studies.

One of the first pearls of wisdom offered is this: Carry a long sword to fight enemies, but also carry a companion sword (short sword) for when the fighting gets up close and personal.

As I have read through the book I can see applications to life in many of the techniques taught for sword fighting. There are many parallels that can be drawn from these examples that can be effective in all aspects of life, but especially in business.
The automobile industry and others have often wondered how the Japanese operate so well. Maybe the CEOs of those and other companies should get a copy of A Book of Five Rings and do a little studying of their own.

Twist

The Rules of Jason Bourne

2010-03-02T11:49:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading the 3 books in the Bourne series by Robert Ludlum, then watched the movies. The movies are only vaguely based on the books, but still fun to watch. Throughou the series, Jason Bourne repeats to himself and tells others his basic rules of being a spy. I thought the rules applied to other areas, so I compiled a list. Here is what I noted down:

1. You are not helpless. You will find your way

2. Instinct. Follow your instincts, reasonably, of course

3. Don’t crucify yourself

4. Nothing can be disregarded

5. To blend in, change your appearance, your hair your face.

6. Read the newspapers every day.

7. Stay controlled.

8. The success of any trap lies in its fundamental simplicity.

The reverse trap by the nature of its single complication must be swift and simpler still.

9. Use an advantage given to you.

10. Do the unexpected. Confuse the enemy, throw him off balance.

11. Don’t run. Running identifies you as a target.

12. Opportunities will present themselves. Recognize them, act on them.

13. Don’t make your moves when you’re tired or exhausted. Rest is a weapon. Use it. Don’t forget it.

14. Work on the visual. It’s more effective than anything else. People will draw the conclusions you want on the basis of what they see far more than from the most convincing lies you can tell them.

15. Study everything. You’ll find something you can use.

16. The cleanest escape is one done in stages, using whatever confusion there is.

17. Establish a benign contact as soon as you can. Especially in an unfamiliar face where there could be hostility. The contact could give you the opportunity or the time you need.

18. Avoid elevators whenever you can. They’re traps.

19. Your first reflections are the best, the most accurate, because the impressions are stored in your head, like the information in a data bank. That’s what your head is.

If you noticed any rules I missed, let me know.

Twist

ET...Find Home

2010-01-13T10:14:00.000-08:00

When you mention a GPS these days most people picture a small LCD screen in their car with a voice that tells them where to turn on the way to their desired destination. Most of these have been given a name by their owners, mine is Gypsy Rosalie, with a play on GPS and a Twilight influence. We opted for the personality with a British female accent.

Our GPS does not have as much personality as my sister’s does. Over in Ireland they use their navigational aid extensively, but one time kept making detours contrary to the directions to see the sights. Finally their GPS said, “I’m afraid you are going to have to work with me a bit, dearie.”

It’s amazing how much we use the GPS just around town when we know exactly where we’re going. I think it’s a Star Trek thing in that we like our computers to talk to us as if they are really as smart as we wish. My laptop has a feminine voice as well to this end. It’s very comforting as I shut it down when it talks to me.

Many people have forgotten the original, yet more portable GPS receivers used by people out of doors, usually hunters or hikers. A small handheld GPS receiver can guide you to your favorite camping, hiking or fishing spot to within about 5 feet. There’s a new low end features unit that will help you find your way back to your car in a parking lot. For its price, though, you can rather buy the real deal. I own a Garmin Legend. The Etrex is a little cheaper for those on a more limited budget.

In addition to find places, there are a number of other things you can do with a good GPS. My brother-in-law likes a game called “Fox and Hound” played with multiple GPS units, multiple vehicles and radios. The idea is for the fox to leave first then call period coordinates as he travels. The hound then tries to catch up or anticipate where the fox will go and catch the fox. The fox must take regular stops to allow the capture.

Another entertaining thing to do is geocaching. Someone hides a container, usually. This may also be a virtual cache where you find a spot, but no physical cache. Normally, though, someone hides a container. The container can be literally any size. The smallest I’ve seen was the size of my fingernail. Larger containers are usually something like Tupperware or an ammo box. Inside the box are a log book and goodies. These goodies are usually just trinkets with no real monetary value.

This cache is hidden somewhere...anywhere. The coordinates and description are posted online. My favorite website is www.geocaching.com. You look for a cache near you, enter the coordinates into your GPS, then take off. The GPS will tell you what direction to travel and how far away it is. When you get within 5-30 feet depending on the accuracy of your GPS and the one who hid the cache, you start looking for hiding places under rocks, in pipes, in hollows of trees or magnetic containers stuck to signs or structures.

Once you locate the container you log your visit and trade a trinket from your pocket for one in the cache. Some trinkets are called travel bugs and you log where you pick it up and where you later drop it off so that people can track its progress. When you return home from your trek you go online again to www.geocaching.com and log that you found the hidden container and what items you traded.

It’s amazing to think that you can find an object hidden anywhere in the world as small as your fingernail with the aid of a GPS and a great deal of satisfaction comes from doing it. Some caches incorporate riddles or puzzles to solve the location. There is a much larger group doing this than you might think. Some people I have known like to do it at night to make it more challenging. Others locate the hidden cache using topographical maps and compasses. That requires more skill and patience than I have, plus I love gadgets.

Imagination in the hiding leads to pleasure in the finding, kind of like most everything enjoyable in life.

Happy trails,

Twist

It's for You

2010-01-03T15:44:00.000-08:00

I spent twenty-five years talking on the phone for work. I’d call customers or they’d call me. For seven years my calling in Church dealt with calling members to either set up an appointment, get answers to questions, or relay information. Now that I’m retired, I still seem to be on the phone all the time.

Phones don’t bother me much, but I try to avoid them when possible. I’m not alone. It seems that everyone in my family is afflicted with the same syndrome. When the phone rings a barrage of “Not me’s” goes through the house. If no one is expecting a call, no one wants to answer the phone. My wife is very much averse to speaking on the phone. If we need to call one of our children the conversation goes something like this:

Wife: Call (add name of child) and ask them (fill in the topic.)
Me: Why don’t you call them?
Wife: I don’t feel like talking on the phone.
Me: Whatever.

I call (add name of child.)

Me: What are you doing?
Child: Nothing.
Me: Ok, bye.
Wife: Wait! Ask (add name of child) if they want to come over for dinner.
Me: Do you want to come over for dinner?
Child: Sure.
Me: Ok, bye.
Wife: Wait! When can they come?
Me: When can you come?
Child: Soon.
Me: Ok, bye.
Wife: So, when are they coming?
Me: Soon.
Wife: What does that mean? What time are they coming?
Me: Soon.
Wife: Did you ask them what they were going to bring?
Me: No, you didn’t say to ask them to bring anything.
Wife: Are they bringing the movie they borrowed?
Me: I don’t know. Are they supposed to do it?
Wife: I can’t believe you don’t ask all the questions.
Me: I don’t know why you don’t call them yourself.
Wife: I don’t like to talk on the phone.
Me: Right....

Ring, ring....

Not it,

Twist

On the Open Road

2010-01-01T17:09:00.001-08:00

My wife and I have families on opposite sides of the country with us in the middle. Periodically we travel to visit one or the other spending 16 to 22 hours in the car on average depending on which direction we drive. Road conditions affect our timing, but we usually have great weather. One year we sat nearly 6 hours in traffic jams waiting for emergency crews to clear the interstate.

After nearly 30 years of marriage, we have our trips down to a routine. We get audio books to pass the time while the kids watch movies or read books. We know the gas stations we need for the best location and price. We know where most of the Taco Bells are located, though our GPS Rosalie knows where the rest are.

If there are sights we want to visit along the way, we leave early, if not, we drive all night and usually straight through. Part of my routine in packing the van is to declare over and over that everything will not fit in the van, even though it usually does. My family always tells me to tie things to the luggage rack on top of the van. I have to explain that it’s not a luggage rack. It’s a canoe/kayak rack that serves its purpose well.

There is an aspect to our trip planning and packing that always goes awry. We start planning snacks to eat along the way. It always starts small. Usually the few packs of gum, mints and sodas fit in a single grocery bag. Then we buy the rest. We get popcorn and snack mix. We buy cookies. We get some beef jerky. You can’t leave without some water for each person. We add some fruit in case we are in a healthy eating mood. The orange candy circus peanuts are yummy and the kids like eating nerds or MMs. Definitely remember the chocolate.

By the time we are ready to go we have a large picnic cooler full of snacks and a few more within an arm’s reach stashed strategically around the vehicle. We never eat it all while we travel. We often don’t need to stock up before returning home. It’s not wasted, though, because that red cooler turns into my private snack vault when I go visit family. I always have what I need to satisfy my sweet tooth while away from home. If I’m really lucky I also have enough for a personal stash when I get home.

Come to think of it, I need to go check behind the oatmeal in the cupboard for the stash of mint chocolate chip Oreos.

Twit

The Divine Within

2009-12-03T06:39:00.000-08:00

It’s been said that it’s not the receiving of the gift at Christmas that’s important, but the giving of said gift. Giving something to someone else helps us to overcome our nature, which is to hoard or keep for ourselves. When a baby is born, be it human or animal, the survival instinct is to retain that which is important, because of this survival instinct. Babies need food. They don’t ordinarily share what they have. Puppies all want the favorite teat. They all instinctively know that once the milk is gone, it will be a while until there is more. Hunger is a powerful motivator. Self preservation drives them in the struggle. Those who don’t prevail can die.

While the human animal is more civilized, in general, than the beasts, instincts are hard to overcome. It becomes an “Aaah” and “Oooh” moment when we see a baby hand his favorite toy to a friend, offer a bite of cereal from a slobbery hand, or a lick of a very sticky lollipop to another child. Instinctively we understand that the child is overcoming the instinct for self preservation.

It is a great obstacle to overcome to donate money, the fruits of our hard labor, to benefit others, and yet we do so with gusto as we give to churches, disease cure research organizations or other charitable groups, including bell ringers and even panhandlers. All of these acts are evidence that we are gaining attributes of the Divine.

What’s more is that when we do things to help others, rather than cringing at relinquishing our funds, we feel good about doing something for our neighbors and co-runners in the human race. It is a somewhat indefinable feeling of accomplishment. The feeling must release endorphins because doing good is addictive. Whatever the reason for the exhilaration, we like it and want to do more to feel more of the same.

We may not be able to change the world, we may not even change the people who benefit from our philanthropic activities, but in giving of ourselves, our time and our means, we slowly change ourselves from our animal instincts to the divine within.

Survival of the Most Prepared

2009-11-09T09:41:00.000-08:00

The fittest may look better, but the most prepared last longer. I've been interested in survival techniques, kits, gadgets, etc since I was a young Boy Scout. I've always tried to be prepared to stay alive by knowing what to do and how to do it. Lately I've once again been trying to compile what I think is the perfect small survival kit. I even included some of my ideas in my book, Tall Trail Tales. A couple of the items on my list are really bigger than I'd like, but I would still include them in my ideal kit. Here's my list of what I've come up with so far. If you have a favorite not on my list, let me know what it is and why you'd include it. Remember this is trying to be space conscious.

Obviously my ideal kit would be a motorhome full of stuff.

Twist

Fire

Hot Spark Flint
Fire starter chip
Glycerin
Plastic Magnifying lens
Small Bic lighter
Tinder wick
Chapstick

Tools

Compass
Duct tape
Multitool
Orange bandana
Parachute cord
Pencil / paper
Signal mirror
Small knife
Survival cards
Whistle
Wire saw

Food

Dental Floss
Flies/lures
Hooks
Line
Pan
Sinker
Snare wire

Shelter

Emergency blanket
Poncho
Tube tent

Water

Gallon ziplock bag
Mesh bag
Plastic sheet for solar still
Potassium Permanganate
Water purifier tabs
Water tubing for seeps

Light

Candle wick
Candles
LED light
Small glow stick

Farewell to Pat

2009-11-07T20:06:00.000-08:00

Uncle Pat just passed away tonight. About 20 minutes ago. He went to the hospital a week ago to have stomach surgery. There were many problems which pointed to things getting worse instead of better. All his organs were shutting down and he was not expected to last the weekend. I understand his family was able to be with him at the end.

When I think about Uncle Pat a lot of things go through my mind. Their dogs they have had over the years. Baseball games. Family History. Cincinnati. I remember a chicken coop in Panguitch and a belt spanking afterwards for my Kelly. Butter ice cubes. The Dugout. Mustaches and sideburns. Spam.

I once had an email folder labeled “Uncle Pat” so that all his spam emails would be directed there. I usually looked at all of them. Pat sent lots of spam, but he usually sent some good stuff. It was better than getting catalogs in the mail. You know, when you don’t have any other mail you get the catalogs. His emails were spam, but they were spam with thought put in, kind of like Grandpa’s spam and eggs for breakfast.

I only remember about three emails that were regular emails. One was about the family reunion. Two were about his surgery. They were brief. He was anxious about needing/having the surgery, but guardedly optimistic. We all do that. We have a great sense of our own mortality, but cannot accept a reality in which we no longer exist in this physical world. We can think about death, but not about us not being here anymore.

I’m going to put this on my blog for everyone to see, but I’m also going to send it in an email to my family. Send it out again as spam to people you know, just for Pat.

Miss you Uncle Pat,

Twist.

Strange, But True

2009-11-03T12:24:00.000-08:00

In the area of truth being stranger than fiction, a couple of stories always come to my mind:

As a district supervisor for a chain of clothing stores, my father travelled out of town all my life. Such a schedule requires the traveler to eat at many restaurants. On one such occasion, my father had just paid for his meal, a hamburger, fries and soft drink, and was seating himself in a booth. To his surprise, seated in an adjacent booth, was Colonel Sanders, of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame, dressed in his traditional attire. Colonel Sanders noticed my father's surprise, turned to him and remarked, “Well, we can't eat chicken all the time, can we."

Not long before my grandmother passed away, the greeting card industry entered a new era of technology where computer chips and a small battery were added to cards enabling the cards to play a variety of Christmas carols when opened. My wife and I bought several cards to send to a few relatives. One of these cards was sent to my grandmother.

In her mid-seventies, she had seen many marvelous improvements and technological advances over the years. In her town, for example, you didn't need to write a full mailing address or box number for her to get your letter. Her name, the name of the small town in which she lived and the zip code were sufficient. The post office only had about 200 boxes total, and some of those were not in use. Somehow, somewhere the card we sent my grandmother was bent slightly. The computer chip inside began to quietly play its repertoire of about eight songs.

The postmaster's wife, who doubled as attendant at their grocery store-gas station-post office, upon hearing the music, sent her husband outside to check the restrooms to see if perhaps someone was there with a radio. Dutifully, the postmaster checked both restrooms then all around the building without locating the source of the music. As the two of them listened more carefully, they could tell that the music was coming from the mail room

"It must be one of these packages." one of them remarked.

They must have been quite a site as they carefully listened to each the large packages, then continued with the letters and cards until they located a cheery little envelope performing its own recital. They decided that it would be best to make a special delivery of the mail and promptly took it to my grandmother.
"Special delivery for you, Velma." they said as my grandmother opened the door.

They explained what happened and waited as she opened the card. By carefully straightening the bent card the two of them were able to repair the card's on/off switch and make it function properly again. Anxious to share this marvel with someone else, my grandmother called one of my aunt's

"Reva," she began, "Would you like to hear my Christmas card from Twist and Helen?"

My aunt said she would and listened for her to begin reading the card over the phone. Instead she heard the miniature recital which had been performed already for my grandmother, a postmaster, his wife and unknown countless postal and airlines workers

Another Man's Treasure

2009-10-28T18:35:00.000-07:00

I love to go to garage sales. The allure is a cross between snooping in strangers houses, finding out what they consider surplus, un-needed items and rummaging around in those items to find the bargain I didn't know I was looking to find. We started our day today arranging the surplus wares of our abode to attract the gaze of shoppers we hoped to entice to our garage by stategically placing signs on cardboard boxes at each end or our street. Now, lest you think that insufficient advertising, it helped a bit that the entire block around the corner was having a block garage sale.

The first order of business, after getting set up, was to get my wife to watch our sale, whilst I perused the merchandise begging my attention a mere half a block around the corner. I walked about a half a mile down one side of the street and back again and spent a grand total of 75 cents on a roll of speaker wire. My treasure found a year ago was a rain chime box. Turn it upside down, the right side up and bb's drop on the chimes for up to 30 minutes

The bargain hunters from around the block did manage to find their way to our humble driveway, but possibly with purses much lighter than they started, because they didn't leave an abundance of currency in my coffers. We brought in a grand total of about $95, which needed to be split four ways, my take amounting to approximately $35 for 7 hours of selling. As I make that much in a couple of hours at my day job, I think I'll stick to it.

Doggonit, I didn't even get rid of very much junk, I mean surplus domestic products. Best part of all is that my wife wants to do this all again in 4 weeks, leaving our display counters intact in the garage once again showing that Americans will store $100 worth of stuff in their garage and leave $30,000 worth of automobiles unprotected out in the weather.
I can't wait to hit the sales again next weekend.

We'd Rather Be Right Than Popular

2009-10-19T06:04:00.000-07:00

Albus Dumbledore said in one of the Harry Potter books that people are generally more willing to forgive others for being wrong than right and yet for some ethereal reason we do everything in our power to be the one who is right. We argue with our spouse, siblings, teachers and the occasional police officer that we are not wrong in our decisions, actions and opinions. Consequences either don't matter or don't come to mind as we verbally battle to justify ourselves. With that in mind, I wrote a poem that hopefully reflects a variety of viewpoints and the silliness of all.

To Be Right
By Twist
Why do you argue when you know I'm right?
Don’t you know of my great insight?
Through many days I’ve toiled in strife
and gained much wisdom from daily life.
It’s not important what you do
because I’ve lived much longer than you.

You should listen to my counsel and not contest,
You can learn from me, my opinion’s best.
I’m not encumbered with all your fears,
My youthful strength will last for years.
I know you’re wrong and I am right,
You will be blessed by my young sight.

My womanly instincts give me great perception
To ensure in all that I have no deception.
Mother Nature and God are on my side,
I solve any problem in a single stride.
My feminine nature achieves great height.
You’ll always know that I am right.

As a man I’ve endeavored with all my might
to gain my knowledge and all my sight.
Nature has endowed me with strength and power,
To guide me in each troublesome hour.
It does not matter if you’re right all along
It matters most that I’m not wrong.

We sit each at last, alone in the dark,
Not even a dog is present to bark.
We’ve driven away every incorrect soul
With their lack of vision to see the whole.
Though no one's around to share our insight,
We have great pride in knowing we were right.

Twist Huntington

The Changing Face of the Hunter

2009-10-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

For the record, my retirement in March 2009 was never meant to be permanent. I intended to take a sabbatical from work. Alright, I wanted a good long vacation. There were, however, many things on my To Do List. It doesn’t really matter that most of those items are still on my list to be done, I have accomplished a great deal. For one thing, I’m nearly through seasons 1 through 7 of Stargate SG-1 on Hulu.com. I’d love to write a testimonial for them. Oh, wait. I guess I just did.

Actually, I planned my summer for several events. I wanted to be one of the male support leaders for the church’s young women’s camp. I planned on doing the same for Boy Scout summer camp, but my Eagle Scout son decided he would rather not sleep in a hot dusty, camp with a host of dusty, smelly guys. With no job, it was a simple matter to plan a trip over the river and through the woods to visit my parents, siblings and cousins at the ever famous family reunion. I went fishing, kayaking and made a second trip to visit my parents.

As far as summers go, I had a pretty decent one. Just as bills in the mail follow Christmas, so did reality come after the summer vacations. Bills still have to be paid and groceries need to be bought. With no excuses and plenty of reasons, I started my job search again. It would help if I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up, but there are an abundance of postings for employment even though it is true that it appears that a majority of the jobs require special degrees or certifications.

Some of the opportunities for someone seeking employment are job fairs. The term fair seems an appropriate term as employers set up booths hawking their wares which, in this case, are jobs of every type imaginable. Step right up. Throw your resume’ at a targeted job and see if it sticks. For your consolation prize you can walk away with a variety of trinkets including pens, candy, calendars etc.

As I peer into the sea of faces and posters, the background turns to a haze and the multitude of voices mingle in such a way as to appear to be nothing more than ocean waves or seagulls. For me the task of picking a business is quite easy. I walk past the companies that don’t appeal. In fact, the entire experience lasts only about fifteen minutes. Usually I am only looking for certain companies and it’s easy to dismiss the rest as so much clutter.

I attended my latest job fair yesterday, but saw something I don’t remember as numerous as the previous experience. There were many gray haired individuals scattered throughout the flocks of those seeking gainful employment. While conversing with others I found that some, like me, have either retired from a career or are contemplating doing so. Others have been the results of downsizing. Still more are discouraged entrepreneurs whose businesses have failed in a less than stellar economy.

Retirement is just not what it used to be anymore. The government is currently suspending the cost of living increase for social security recipients. What used to be a reasonable retirement income no longer covers rising health costs, utility bills or increasing taxes. Greater numbers of seasoned citizens than ever are supplementing their income with credit cards and loans. Even the government has increased their debt many times over prior years.

I have been advising my children to get as good an education as possible. I have counseled them to find a job where they can work for at least thirty-five years. They need to avoid debt and create savings accounts and retirement accounts in addition to any retirement plan their employers may have. I encourage any who listen to be financially prudent in all that they do. This will hopefully help them avoid becoming the face of the modern job hunters who are graying around the temples with wrinkles around once smooth eyes. After all, if we do not plan to take care of our “golden years” who will.

"If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you always got."
-Unknown

Many Voices

2009-10-05T05:31:00.000-07:00

I have been bombarded by voices as of late. Yes, they are all real, not just in my head. These voices are not bad, either. I welcome all the dialogues I have received.

Twice a day, if I want, I can participate in a MARS, Military Affiliate Radio System, radio net. This is a practice/training net, or radio chat, to prepare for emergency communications in times of hurricanes, disasters or terrorism. There are usually about 30 participants in this net that come together from across the state. With our long range radios we can chat with others hundreds of miles away.

During this same net our local group also chats on different radios on a local frequency. This allows us to talk about the main topic for discussion with more latitude and candor.

Multiple opportunites also arise during the week to particpate in regular ham radio nets, usually all local radio operators, though, with the long range radios, I can join an endless list of nets around the country.

On Sunday nights, and throughout the week, I have the opportunity to chat online with my family. Technically, I guess these are not voices, but texts, but as I read each line of chat sent I hear in my head the voice of the person sending it. I picture them sitting at their computer smiling, typing and laughing. The worldwide web shrinks the thousands of miles around the globe that separate us, and yet cannot divide us because of the ease of contact. We laugh we discuss our parents, our families, our interests and our lives in general. You have to read fast to keep up with the up to 7 conversations that occur simultaneously at the speed of our local ISP connections.

I currently live in the same city as my children and grandchildren. We get together often and in volume. A friend of my oldest daughter came to visit one day. This friend is an only child. After a while she asked my daughter, "Is it always this noisy at your house?" I'm afraid so and happy to say it.

This weekend, I viewed the general conference of our Church. This world wide conference was broadcast over cable, tv, internet and radio. Millions of people around the world viewed the broadcast either live, on a delayed basis or on demand from the internet. They can purchase DVDs in about a month that will have the full spectrum of discourses to peruse at their leisure or read the printed word in about a month in a magazine.

All of these voices are welcome. They are informative, comforting, educational and interesting. As much as anything else, these are the voices of my life that give me perspectives on so many things. These voices mirror who I am. My lone voice in the sea of billions of other voices is still distinct, individual and personal. Though I am similar in nature to the masses, I am unique.

The voices are calling me now and I am happy,

Twist

"As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country."
- Proverbs 25:25

Subliminal Blog

2009-10-04T07:34:00.000-07:00

I have been intrigued of late with an idea to write subliminal messages, that is to say, a message hidden amidst normal text which causes the reader to think or act in a way that has been engineered by the author. I don't believe I've gotten the knack of it yet, but here my first attempt.

Twist

Some blogs promote products as a means to make sales, thus garnering income for the writer.

Every blog has the purpose of promoting the thoughts, feelings and ideas of the writer to gain a modicum of fame and fortune.

Never before in history has it been so easy to quickly publish ideas or promote a cause.

Donating money to your favorite cause has also become easier as most organizations now accept credit card or debit card transactions.

My siblings, spouse and offspring are ardent users of the electronic media in communicating our hopes, wants, desires and needs.

Everybody wants to make their own dreams come true and posting that to a media that has the potential to reach billions of people makes the realization of dreams seem more possible.

Making a living, meeting expenses, making sure that our future will be stable are common goals of modern men and women.

Our modern world is very different from that of our forefathers who could plant, raise, hunt or trade for most of their daily needs while we have been reduced to bartering currency for everything required for the sustenance of life and for those luxurious necessities.

Now is the time for us to change our way of thinking to implement budgets, savings plans and personal retirement programs.

Everyone in our current day needs to evaluate their circumstances to determine if they are truly exercising their best judgment in their own best interests.

Your contribution is greatly appreciated.

Twist

The significant problems we face cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them.
— Albert Einstein

Job Stalking

2009-09-30T07:06:00.000-07:00

I worked for the same organization for twenty-five years, acquiring an appropriate amount of experience, knowledge and skills as I performed a variety of assignments and duties. Some duties were basic, some very disconnected from the position for which I was hired, such as assuming secretarial duties as directed by the manager when the position was vacated. When there was no supervisor I had a semblance of supervision and trained many new employees. Continuing education at work built a considerable knowledgeable base to enhance performance at duties.

All of that aside, or perhaps all of that added to my resume’, after twenty-five years I decided to retire from my job, a decision I really have yet to regret, however, my timing could have been better. The economy tanked and the ranks of the unemployed did a good imitation of the great depression of the century past. I had never planned on remaining unemployed, simply free for a few months to volunteer at youth camps, visit family and catch a few fish, all goals which have been joyfully attained.

I have discovered a great many aids for the unemployed seeking a remedy for their situation: websites, classified ads, job fairs, pamphlets, state agencies and well meaning friends and family. Everyone, it seems, has the solution to your idleness and is quite willing to share their personal insights. Don’t misunderstand. The best method of procuring gainful employment has always been word of mouth. A guy who knows a guy can put you onto the lead you may be seeking. That is called networking and is the most effective means of ending the unemployed status.

What recent months have taught me is that this process is not called “job hunting” for nothing. One must return to his roots to truly understand. As we plan for dinner in this modern age, we begin with a trip to the grocery to stock our pantry with our preferred choice of edibles. Not terribly many years ago, though, our ancestors donned their hunting clothes, retrieved the appropriate firearm from its rack on the wall and trekked into the forests to find game that would be preserved by a variety of methods to sustain their families throughout the winter.

Every job opening posted these days receives an overwhelming response from the multitudes huddling together in the unemployment lines. Ok, actually they submit their resume’, their CV, their letters of recommendation and requests for employment online. This is, after all, the twenty-first century. With competition at its most frantic, the time has arrived for a change of tactics, a return to more traditional methods.

I have decided to don my leather jacket with the fringe down the sleeves, pants to match, and moccasins and pull the musket from the rack on the wall. Pardon the hunting analogy, but the shotgun approach no longer works. It is time to stalk the job, the boss and the company. This century’s job seeker needs to study they prey and learn as much as possible. It’s impossible to make an impression at an employment interview, assuming you ever get that far, without having a working knowledge of the nature of the company, its market, history and standing in the community.

Just as the mountain men read the animal tracks on the path and knew what animal made the tracks and how long ago it passed, the job stalker needs to understand his prey and become familiar even with the names of those who will interview him.

Understanding all that I have just written, the greatest trick to finding employment for me seems to be this: You really need to know what you want to be when you grow up. I have undergone a great deal of introspective contemplation. What do I really want to do with the rest of my life? The biggest roadblock I encounter is that I really like what I’m doing right now. It just doesn’t pay what I’m worth. Wow. That is what I’ve always said about my previous employers and now I’m doing it to myself.

I do like the boss, though.

Twist

"If you care, you will find a way. If you don't care, you will find an excuse."
Unknown

About the Trough

2009-09-28T12:38:00.000-07:00

In the movie, "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" there is an improbability drive which, when activated, will result in a very random and improbable location. This is a blog, not a spaceship, and will not physically take you anywhere. With that said, you never know what will be contained herein.

My grandparents kept a 5 gallon bucket next to the stove. As a child, I was disgusted and yet strangely intrigued by the contents of what I learned was called "the slop bucket." All leftovers, except meat, were unceremoniously dumped into the slop bucket, whose aroma could easily overwhelm the most sumptuous of culinary concoctions. This noxious swill was then lovingly poured into the pig trough where it was eaten with gusto and a great deal of slurping sounds. Usually some grain was added to the slop for texture and provide some actual nourishment.

Without the noxious smells or added grain for texture, this blog is similar to the slop bucket and yet reminiscent of the improbability drive in that many random, hopefully entertaining, blogs will be posted here for reading enjoyment.

Come on back by often,

Twist Huntington

"Life isn't about surviving the storm, it's about learning to dance in the rain."
Anonymous