Who?

I am: Hal Clement (Harry C. Stubbs) A quiet and underrated master of "hard science" fiction who, among other things, foresaw integrated circuits back in the 1940s.

Which science fiction writer are you?

Never heard of him. And I thought I was into "hard science" fiction. More books to find...

(via Flares Into Darkness)

Sunday Sunday

I went to the Lee Kay range today and broke in Pytor Bangovich, my recently acquired Mosin Nagant M91/30. Money WELL spent! Even with the famous Mosin trigger, my groups were pleasantly tight at both twenty five and fifty yards. I highly recommend Albanian Light Ball (brass case) cartidges. They can be had here in Orem for less than fifty dollars for a spam can of four hundred forty rounds.

The holosight I purchased at last week's gunshow for my Bushmaster turned out to be not that great a deal at all. The LED isn't bright enough to be seen in full daylight; that's why it only cost seventy five bucks, where a real tactical sight usually costs upwards of three hundred. I was able to zero it at the max brightness setting but acquiring the red dot on any background other than dead black was impossible.

I might be able to use it to pop coyotes on cloudy days. Maybe not. I'm glad I figured this out at a range and not someplace where it mattered.

The pics of the Mosin groups will be up early next week.

If you are looking for scintillating (or at least lengthy) political discourse, you might try here. Watch out, though - some of those commenters do go on and on and on...

I hope you had a great weekend.

Paperwork

I signed this.

I am a delegate for my Republican precinct caucus here in Orem. I haven't sent a dime to the RNC since about six months before last election, including member dues.

I've explained (at length) why not in numerous letters and email messages to my state and the national Republican powers - that - be.

They will get my money for doing things that remotely support, oh, I don't know, the party platform or maybe get serious about Illegal immigration.

Social security reform would have been nice. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to sell back in the mists of time (say, two or three years back right after the Republicans gained seats in the midterms...). Have you taken a look at the markets lately? (that's a live link and will change with time - today's DOW is another record at 12621.77). Go here to look at employment numbers. WE ARE AT FULL EMPLOYMENT nationally, with some regional outliers in areas dependent on auto manufacturing or trapped at the top of housing/real estate bubbles. Amazing economy, isn't it? Just what did the nominally Republican majority government do to make these things happen?

It began to fight back in the Long War. It cut taxes in ways that most benefited those people who make jobs happen for other people. No sweeping government babysitting programs. No "investments" in nannystatism (well, o.k., there's TSA... and the Medicare Prescription benefit, even though the latter may actually be more efficient than first thought). But all that was before America decided that Republicans weren't governing as conservatives. That's Republicans from the President all the way down.

My last five trips to the Emergency room, either as a patient or taking somebody in, I waited behind illegal immigrants. Granted, once I admitted that my chest MIGHT hurt that one time I shot right into treatment. I don't expect to see more than pennies on any of my of Social Security dollars, if that - the math is patently unworkable that the system can be maintained as it is run now.

But boy you can buy a lot of votes selling bridges to old folks, if you are in to that kind of thing. Alaska isn't the only place they build bridges to nowhere.

The Republicans in particular and conservatives in general are in the grasp of a leadership crisis.

We need new blood to bring back the old ideals - Reagan's ideals - to the leading edge of American political thought.

The GOP got lazy and got righteously thumped. The stakes are too high to merely allow the Democrats the next two years to embarass themselves; the country cannot afford a seventies flashback. Not with a nuclear Iran and still with a chance to end Islamic fascism without having to irradiate a quarter of the world's surface.

GOP - if you want me on your donor rolls, get back to being Republican. If that is too much to ask, just don't bother calling.

(via Instapundit )

My Office

Note the absence of secretaries. Or comfy chairs.

But I don't have a desk. And not many corner offices could compete with the view.

Tomorrow's high temperature: 12F.

The above picture was snapped this last Friday around four in the afternoon. The temp then was 10F. I had just stripped off the top two layers for the drive home.

Revelation.

(Disclaimer: I just spent yet another day working in blowing wet snow, dealing with uncharacteristically troublesome subcontractors, wrestling with vexing plan conflicts, and a total commute time of five hours plus the five actually billable to the job. Then there's the looming symptoms of this year's bought of bronchitis, too...)



February will mark the beginning of my third year up at Devil's Island, the large construction project that lives at the halfway point of my daily two hundred miles. My family life has taken a hit, but the money has helped offset some of that particular stress. Of all the life changes associated with my work up there the one that really ticks me off is the fact that lately I find I can't write a coherent thought to save my life. (SEE? What kind of sentence is THAT?)

I just spent a half hour Googling back through some of my past posts and comments. There are quite a few pieces that I can't believe I actually authored. I mean that they are actually enjoyable to read. They make sense.

I can't write like that any more.

Back during the period I was at home most of the time I let slide getting chores done because I was reading, posting, or commenting. There was also some writing of story ideas plus doing scads of research.

For the last year or so I haven't done much more than rear up from the virtual table in the back of the virtual bar to shout at the virtual TV. And I haven't even had a drink since 2000.

I never intended to pursue a lot of traffic with TRB (got that wish in spades - lol). My main reason for starting my own blog was to have the ability to expand on ideas I had encountered in other places. Yes, Virginia, I do like the sound of my own voice, but what I am trying to say is that back at the beginning of TRB I was finding my urge to argue was outstripping my ability to research. I ended up arguing the same points ad infinitum across multiple forums without the benefit of learning anything new. Or maybe I wanted to start debates instead of participating in them. Could be a little bit of both I guess.

Anyway, back to basics. Here's some "givens" that I operate on:

1. Without my family (the Mrs and the Goddesses. And the cats.) I am less than nothing.

2. I am personally committed to the pursuit of the ideals upon which the American style of representative democracy is based upon.

3. I base my opinions on a lifetime spent reading history, leavened with military service, and influenced by working in a trade that demands tangible results for capital expenditure.

4. I thought that the fall of the Wall ended the period of "Interesting Times" for my generation, until about half way through the Clinton years.

5. I believe that Lincoln was right when he declared that it would never be a foreign enemy that would threaten our liberty, but it would instead be the failure of our own citizenry to preserve it. I believe that Lincoln would instantly recognise our contemporary domestic political situation as evidence of his declaration.

*Sigh*

It sure would be nice to write something (again) based upon those givens that would be worth someone else's time to read...

In the coming year I will endeavor to rise to that goal.


Criminy. That is all.

Jumble

Christmas in Ohio was wonderful. Mild weather, fantastic relatives, and at least two episodes of laugh - so - hard - we - got - out - the - chair - protectors.

Air travel out and back was seamless. American Airlines's flight attendants couldn't make it as comedians like most of Southwest's... but the legroom made up for the missing comedy.

I found Mrs. TmjUtah the Perfect Gift. Not diamonds, but Portuguese flannel jammies and a matching robe. In return, she put one right through the uprights: after a year of shaking her head at my growing addiction to military surplus rifles she dropped a Big 5 gift card in my stocking, which has already morphed into a M91/30 Mosin Nagant rifle. It has matching receiver, barrel, bottom metal, and buttplate numbers... and the reciever itself is a finely executed hexagonal version that was machined for the Tsar in 1896. At least that's what the stamp beneath the tang says.

Lessee...Saddam got the short sharp drop. Good.

Gerald Ford passed into history. I found it hard to watch the media coverage after the Woodward interview was made public; instantly the late president was suddenly up on a pedestal with FDR or Jesus. ( That would be the unitarian, non-religious iconoclastic Jesus, not to be confused with any Christianist historical figure of note.) All the time I was going through adolescence the media treated Ford like an idiot in need of training wheels. At the same time they failed to mention that we were reneging on our treaty commitments to those pesky South Vietnamese folks. Priorities.

Politics in general: I watched a few minutes of coverage on the Democrats' ascension to power. Ascension to power, not responsibility. Can't be having anything like that.

I can take a joke as well as the next guy... but Pelosi? Reid? It must be popcorn and champagne time in select caves in the Tribal Areas, and in the nicer salons in Tehran.

Well, we've got two years to figure out what to do. Maybe the Reps will clean a little house and get us some statesmen. At least the right still has a bench to go to. I figure Bush will just warm up the veto pen and sign a lot of hunting licenses.

As far as work goes during the Worst Economy Since Haliburton Killed The Last Dodo , I missed Friday due to something akin to the flu. Same place, same stuff, just a wee bit cool the next slice of forever. Still feel like crap but I'll be back out there Monday.

I hope you have a happy and prosperous 2007.

Mount Up!

The Team rides!

Well, flies, actually. We leave tomorrow at Omigoodness thirty from Salt Lake International bound for Ohio and Mrs. Tmj's sister's house.

We'll be on the road until the thirtieth.

Here's wishing you and yours a joyous Christmas and happy, successful New Year.

And to all our servicemen and women, wherever you are, thank you and God bless you for the sacrifice you are making and the duty you are so admirably executing.

Here I Am

The lady in Maine gets it:

"Any proposed solution to the current conflict with Islamic totalitarianism that fails to take into account its worldwide scope, relentless nature, and willingness to fight very dirty, is going to be a half-baked effort. In order to mount a "successful" campaign with an effective plan, we not only need creativity and intelligence, we need commitment, focus, and an understanding that this will be a long hard fight."

The following is a comment I posted to "The definition of "success" in war: Part II (colonialism and occupation)", over at neo-neocon:

Bravo, Neo.

I agree with Kurt's sentiments here:

"I've been a supporter of the war from the beginning, and yet, I think you've overstated the case of the unknowns about the costs involved with this war from the beginning. Before the war, one of the arguments against it was simply that we had an insufficient plan for what would happen after Saddam was toppled."

Iraq is a front in a larger war. Creating a democratic Iraq, whole cloth as in something that a majority of Americans would instantly recognize, is simply not going to happen as long as the prime movers of Islamic fascism are in business.

The same is true for the Long War.

Whether or not Iraq becomes a functioning democracy in X number of years is secondary to what remains to be done if we are serious about ending Islamic fascism. State support makes possible the exporting of murder to worldwide targets. Decapitating the states that are behind that industry is the first logical step that must be taken but won't happen until some pivotal event, or confluence of events, occurs to make what's left of the West act in earnest.

We don't have enough troops or contractors or money to WalMart every shithole like Afghanistan or Iraq. I believe that Democratization as a plan was the bravest, most liberal foreign policy initiative put forth by any U.S. president since the Marshall Plan. But Democratization relied on unity of effort and a willingness to name the enemy... neither of which has been very much in evidence.

But we've got more than enough offensive capability to totally destroy any number of nations' ability to function as a nation state. We can project force on a point anywhere on the planet. And the nature of our most lethal, overt adversaries - Iran, the Royal's Wahabbist cancer in KSA, the Assad regime - dictatorships all - means that cutting the head off means an opportunity for different leadership to rise up.

I reject the Powell Doctrine where Arab/muslim countries that host Islamist terror are concerned. By attacking them, we aren't breaking anything that wasn't already lethally broken already, at least where the possibility that we could ever peacefully coexist with them is concerned.

Decapitate the regimes. Maintain training and readiness to deal with the opportunists (China and Russia) who will surely seek leverage in the disarray to follow.

We can always offer help to genuine reform movements. We do charity better than anyone. But the people that want to kill us... we must take them at their word sooner rather than later and take the fight to them first. They celebrate every pointless murder as victory. Let us return some very pointed killing and show them what debt their martyrs are incurring.

There is too much money in the hands of too many barbarians chasing way, way too many flavors of lethal weapons around the world. It is only time that waits to be filled before those who aren't interested in war find out how true it is that war is, indeed, interested in them.

Disclaimer: I believe that the western Left and legacy media killed Democratization out of fear that its success would favor George Bush, and by extension the United States. I also believe that history's judgement will come pretty close to acknowledging it, too.

Range Reports

I shot the M44 twice last weekend.

On Friday afternoon I was able to paper a two inch group three inches left of my aiming point at fifty yards with the bayonet folded. After extending it, the group moved right almost nuts on to my point of aim, so the lore that it was designed to be shot with the blade extended seems to be supported.

I went back Saturday morning with some friends to zero their .270 and to try the M44 and my SMLE on the hundred yard range.

Details would only be embarassing. Just know that there would have been no dead Nazis in front of my fighting hole that day. I had brought the horrible Pakistani manufacture .303 ammo in order to just get rid of it, and it lived up to my worst expectations with hangfires on every round that actually worked, and there were darned few of those. As for the M44, all I can say is that I expected a three or four inch group somewhat left of center and ended up off the paper. Off the paper continuously, about forty rounds worth with only two hits. Gaaaah.

In the past I've made it a point to not shoot on consecutive days. Especially after having a good one. Last weekend's experience will be on my mind whenever I shoot matches again. If you are going to have a bad day, make it in the middle of the week BEFORE scoring day...

Today I went up to Lee Kay to get some pistol-only time in. Last night I reloaded a bunch of .45 230gr ball with 5.9gr of Winchester 231. My old load was for 5.7gr and shot almost five inches lower (at 25 yards) than my carry rounds, which are +P 185gr Golden Sabres. My Springer is near stock, but I have installed a ceramic 18.5lb action spring, overtravel adjustable trigger, and Bomar grips. I had experienced some FTF's due to short stroking with the plink loads before I upped the charge; no problems at all on that front today. Action was crisp, feeding flawless, and point of impact was less than two inches lower than that of the carry rounds.

I also shot fifty rounds of 9mm parabellum through our Ruger P89DC. This is the wife's semi, and she doesn't like it much beyond the fact that it's ours and it's a hi-cap. And that she shoots very well with it, at paper. It's too big for her to carry and neither of us like the safety/decocker, which functions reversed from the "sweep down and shoot" on the 1911.

There is a later version of this pistol that has a "decock only" safety. On this model you rack a round into the chamber, which cocks the hammer back, and then sweep down the decocker lever which lowers the hammer, and then the lever returns to its "up" position leaving the pistol ready to fire in double-action mode. I wish there was a way to retrofit ours but I don't think there is. On the bright side, Rugers have never been thought of as slick or sexy as most other pistols, so they generally are pretty economical buys when used. Maybe not slick, nor sexy, but I'll settle for rock solid reliable and delightfully accurate any day.

We will be getting a Glock or possibly a KelTec in nine at some future date.

Today I picked up an app to be a volunteer at the range. It's only eight hours a month, and they always have problems getting Sundays covered. We'll see what develops.

Gratuitous advice: If you bring a bunch of kids (under age twelve) to the range, make sure you have one adult for every firing point you intend to use. And clean the rifles first, especially if they are semiautos. Nothing loses a kid's interest like watching Dad or Uncle wrestle a stovepiped round out of the rifle every third shot.

Other than that, let 'em shoot until they get tired. Don't buy the turkey or squirrel targets with the tiny bullseyes. A big black bullseye like the NRA 25 yard pistol target is a better aiming point, and their hits will show clearly. Sneak in advice without being bossy. Get the safety habit ingrained first. Keep coming back to the range and they'll be shooting in fine form before you know it.

Winter

No jack frost nipping at red noses. No spirit of the season. No appreciation for the delicate patterns on the bedroom window in the morning.

Everything takes longer. And everything hurts.

Happy winter from the land of construction survey, to all.

Acquisition

Friday morning I’m picking up my 1945 manufacture M44 from Big5. Ninety dollars or so after tax - it’s a sale week!

Matching numbers on the stock, bolt, and receiver. There’s a stock repair on the lower edge of the butt, but it looks to be an arsenal fix. The bore is sharp and clean, exterior metal is evenly worn with very little pitting and the wood to metal fit is surprisingly good.

I stopped in on my way home from work just to check their inventory. I do this often on Fridays when the traffic is bad. I thought the Yugos were the only sale running this week and was surprised to see the Russki up there with a pink tag on it. The clerk handed me two paper towels before handing over the rifle. It’s nasty with cosmo. They won’t take off the trigger locks unless you are actually buying the weapon so I wasn’t able to pull the bolt out. Turning the bolt and running it back was kind of disgusting - slime oozing out coming and going.

But damn, it felt a LOT more solid than any other Moisin action I’d handled before…

Wiped off the worst of the gunk and went through a few more cycles. Damn. Like my Remington 700. Almost as slick as my Lee Enfield, but with even less play. In and out a few times more. Very good… look down the bore (somebody else has to have been in there - the bore was mostly clean) and see nice sharp lands and grooves.

Picked a spot on the far wall and shouldered it for a look over the sights.

Then I handed it back to the clerk, thanked him for his time, and headed for home.

And mom said yes about ten minutes ago, so if it’s still there at nine on Friday morning, it’s mine. If it’s gone, I probably won’t buy another one. The one I handled tonight is the one.

Yeah, that’s why I collect these things. Millions of them were made. But some of them were made just for me.

Sunday Reading

Frome "The Bold and Magnificent Dream", by Bruce and William B. Catton:

They deliberately meant, in other words, to speak for all humanity in that preamble. When they wrote it, there were large numbers of Americans who could claim little or no share in the rights being enunciated. But the door was being left ajar for them, and for voicless, faceless legions of their kind the world over, and for millions yet unborn. It was being left open consciously, because all-inclusiveness- a better life and a stake in society for everyone (author's italics), regardless of race or sex or creed or previous condition- was what the American dream at its highest had already come to mean.

***

Here lay the basis of a faith that could move mountains. The course of human events had reached one of its decisive turning points, and a great deal of human history for the next two centuries (and beyond) was going to be different because the men of 1776 had first enunciated the dream, in phrases that still contain fire- libery, equality, pursuit of happiness, unalienable human rights- and had then proceeded to show that it just might work. Whoever chose that tune for Lord Cornwallis' military bands at Yorktown had known what he was about.

The tune mentioned above was, of course, "The World Turned Upside Down", and was played as the Redcoats grounded their arms and colors between the ranks of American Continentals and French Regulars after the victory at Yorktown.

The new nation that went forward from that day has never been perfect, and has never claimed to be. But the hopes, dreams, and intentions of the founders have stood the tests of the last couple of centuries better than any other representative governement, anywhere, by any measure. I guess that in an age of instant gratification and almost universal historical illiteracy, that's just not good enough.

But when did half of America decide that we are the enemy?

Where will we find the Washingtons, Jeffersons, Lincolns, and Reagans we so desperately need today?

I worry for my family and my nation. This is not a fear of the senseless violence sure to come as a result of our inability to correctly address today's Islamofascists, or whatever tomorrow's superpower conflicts turn out to be. No foreign power will deprive us our liberty. If that day ever comes it will be our own sloth and shortsightedness manipulated by C-team politicians, intelligentsia, and media that destroy this grand experiment.

Today the magninicent dream continues. For how long, though... for how long?

The Vote Thing

It could be worse.

My family could have been Iraqi or Afghani instead of Americans, safe in Utah. For now.

Or a U.S. service member. Sorry, guys; the Republicans didn't get beat, they gave it away.

The Long War continues.

The Word From Devil's Island

Over there in my "About Me" I told you I was a land surveyor.

I began my current gig as project/site surveyor for a high-value golf course resort subdivision project located in the mountains east of Park City, Utah almost two years ago. To give you an idea of the scale here, consider that the developer has pledged $200,000,000 for county infrastructure improvements above and beyond the golf course(s) and housing. That's all roads, water tanks and mains, wastewater plants, power transmission and distribution, and storm water systems.

My daily commute to the site is eighty miles one way, in the company truck, and I get to do Parley's Canyon ten times a week in all weathers. Base elevation at the club house is right around 6900 feet and some of the lots are above 7400. I can look directly west at the ski runs in Park City.

There's been some stress. And I'm a little old for the production staking role - you can only get so good at knocking hubs and then you are just beating yourself up. With the coming of winter it's usually just my second man and myself on the site; during the summer we may run as many as three or four crews. The most important professional decision I've made in the last year has been to admit that I probably can't run my second men or the other crews into the ground any more - but I can train them to be as accurate and fast as I ever was. Even better than I ever was.

That's kept me going so far. My family life has suffered. My kids need more of my time than they've been getting, and my wife, well, just know that she only asks for my I.D. sometimes when I show up at the door covered with mud around eight or nine on a rainy night...

Just this past summer my crew, along with others, oversaw construction of several miles of roads, thousands of linear feet of curb, sewer, water, and storm drain, laid out a score of million-dollar houses and staked literally hundreds of building lots. I've mapped miles of terrain for new plats and worked with the golf course architect to tweak the existing course so "Tiger likes the look". Yeah, he's got a lot up here, too.

Meanwhile, here at the house I've got ten square feet of sink surround in my bathroom that's needed tile since spring. My neighbor (another surveyor, by the way) and I share a fence line that needs about four new posts set before the ground freezes. That's been the case since spring's windstorms and neither of us has had time to make it happen. Did I mention the drywall finishing around the new kitchen light? Nope. And there's still more.

I have power tools in my garage that are still in last Christmas' boxes.

Today's dance card had sewer staking in one phase, mapping in another, and I had promised to stake the temporary parking lot and the second swimming pool/jacuzzi in the main common area. One thing led to another (four things, actually - just a normal day) and I ended up running almost two hours behind in getting to the pool.

We parked on the top of an embankment overlooking the area where our structures were supposed to go. The normal activity level in this part of the site makes the construction of the pyramids look like a kid's refrigerator box fort on a rainy afternoon. It's busy with the dirt guys working right against the buildings where the carpenters, plumbers, ironworkers, electricians, and fire suppression troops are busy fighting for turf.

I shouted down to the foreman that we were on the way down, and would he please see about moving the roofers' manlift and that damned huge crane and that bunk of copper sheathing that wasn't there this morning, and we'd get his stakes in the ground.

A minute to assemble the staff that carries my GPS rover, one last look at the paper plan with my second man and some quick directions to him on what stakes and paint to pack down the hill, and off I went in my baggy khakis bouncing on the blue suspenders under the grubby orange vest and scarred hardhat, over the edge, with the trademark "LET'S GOOoooooo!".... and almost ran down a dozen suits and a couple of skirts (heels on a construction site! They never learn.), all wearing their spotless shiny hardhats and pristine orange vests.

One of the banes of a high-value site is the certainty that mid-level client reps will show up to Contribute. They have Blackberries but really want a company car or gold membership in the going club, and to get that they have to Contribute. One or two at a time they are usually manageable. When you get a whole herd they invariably come up with at the very least (best case) a Keen Insight like directing a change to trim color on an existing building. That only screws up a few days' production for the finish carpenters. The other end of the rainbow comes when they look out at the featureless expanse where the new ten thousand foot activity building is going to be and Chet the second assistant VP for countertops, who is visiting from the LA office suggests (brightly! - he's Contributing!) it be moved/rotated/lifted/lowered. Then you have to explain, with tact and diplomacy, that doing that would mean that all the utilities under the featureless expanse would have to be moved and shifting the building would ultimately mean that the club dressing rooms would end up halfway into the eighth fairway.

But I left you halfway through the herd of suits.

I didn't recognize any of them. I kept moving - my second guy knows that his place is on my heels and sure enough he came sailing down right behind me.

I heard one of the ladies ask "Who is that???" One of the Dockers boys said "I've never met him, but that must be "(Tmj) with (my company)"".

Heh. Fame. Minor, but still kind of cool. Cool enough to get me back in the saddle come Monday.

Have a great weekend.

Tomorrow.

When you go to the polls tomorrow remember that you are executing a power denied to the vast majority of your fellow humans.

You are not voicing an opinion when you vote. You are determining the course, and perhaps the fate, of our nation.

Choose carefully.

We are long past the false "end of history" and the next chapter is going to be pretty dark no matter which course we choose.

Surrender is not an option. But it is a possibility, none the less.

They Wish

A whole lotta anticipation in evidence out there:

"Analysts said the timing of the scandal, a month before the November 7 elections, could be trouble for Republicans who already have been feeling heat from voters over the
Iraq war."

also

"He said this campaign season "is starting to feel like 1974" when the Watergate scandal costs Republicans a lot of seats."

Here's some free clues:

However reprehensible Rep. Foley's behaviour was, I still don't see any statute criminal behaviour out there - yet, of course. The emphasis of that story is rapidly shifting away from the alleged acivities of the congressman in favor of just who knew what when

I've been less than impressed by Dennis Hastert (and Bill Frist, while I'm at it) for years, and thought he should have resigned after whining about the FBI search warrant served on Rep. William Jefferson 's office. The guy with the high-end lasagna - remember?

Remember reforming social security? Border security and meaningful immigration reform? Judicial appointments? Permament repeal of the death tax, and making permament other existing tax cuts? Allowing and in some cases championing the grant of Article III protections to captured terrorists who are already de facto illegal combatants by any honest interpetation under Conventions. Pretty weak show for the majority party in both houses, I think.

The current Republican majority has proven itself feckless where domestic politics is concerned and all but absent of anything resembling adult supervision. Or worse. At any other time in history (were that it was say, 1992, again...) I'd make plans to be fishing or shooting come this election day, and have steeled myself for two years of unrestrained moonbattery to motivate a new class of conservatives to come forward to fix the damage.

That's not an option this time. We can't survive a Pelosi/Reid tag team at this stage of the Long War; we just can't. I could sit back on savings for two or three years while Dems destroy construction spending (we ALWAYS know first when the economy is in trouble) via overregulation, taxes, and spiralling interest rates. Many, many people wouldn't have the same means I do, and it would be terrible for them.

But cutting back on vacations and toys is not the same as consciously participating in surrender to an enemy on a battlefield, and that's exactly what a Dem majority in the house or senate means. And I've never seen myself in that roll, nor will I ever.

I chose "I Wish" for the title of this post because I think that this latest brouhaha is just that - much incoherent noise about not much at all. I think the real entertainment value in all this is just beginning to manifest. I believe the blogosphere will distill "who knew what when" and the "timing" of this little exercise down to levels understandable to just about anybody on the street. Then we'll know "why", not just "what".

But we'll just have to wait and see.

Belated Range And Incident Report

It's Sunday here in Utah. So far today the Team has been doing the chores that fell through the cracks over the last week.

The Goddesses have collectively mowed the back forty, spent a half hour or more on their rooms, and have done all their normal chores. They are making a snack now and getting ready to punch out homework. After that we (the parental units) have been warned that they wish to Entertain Guests at dinner...

More Nice Young Men. Feh. Good thing it's spaghetti night - and good that I have to complete the third cleaning of the rifles I was shooting this day last Sunday.

I spent the morning finishing the refinishing of our living room coffee table. It had a leg fall victim to youthful exuberance a few weeks ago and I took the opportunity to refinish it while repairing the leg. I also mowed the front lawn, washed up the sink dishes, have two loads of laundry downrange, and washed my truck.

Mrs. Utah fixed our main desktop computer this morning - reinstalled the video driver that continuously tries to wander off. Good thing we have another PC and two laptops to fall back on. She's off doing the shopping at this time. We have decided to augment our water storage with flats of bottled drinking water instead of buying more barrels.

Where's the Range & Incident Report, you are wondering? Here it is:

I kiboshed my responsibilities last Sunday in order to run up to the Lee Kay Center for some quality time with my MilSurp rifles. I took Carl G. the Swede, Karl the Kar98, Tommy Savage the American made Lee Enfield Mk4No.II, and as an afterthought my Remington 700 ADL in .30-'06 with the game-friendly Burris 3X9 power scope.

The hundred yard range was full up with (mostly) muzzle loader shooters sighting in for the blackpowder hunts, so I found a spot on the fifty yard range and got ready to get to work. There were two kids to my right (well, o.k., a twenty-something and his fifteenish year old brother shooting a couple of milsurps. After taking a closer look, I realized that they were shooting one of these. Their grandpa brought it back from Europe after World War II. Their other rifle was a Kar98, same origin, with all matching numbers plus SS markings. They didn't know much about the tech of either rifle (showed them how to pull the bolt out of the Kar98) but at least they were shooting modern factory 8mm ammo, so corrosive primer damage to the gas system of the G43 wasn't an issue; collectors pay upwards from a thousand dollars for those.

How did I do? You want to know how I shot?

I had a clinic day. Offhand or bench, I got consistent, very acceptable groups from each weapon. Effortlessly. The scoped Remington shoots Winchester XP3 180gr softips through a hole the size of a quarter at fifty yards, from the bench. The offhand group came in smaller. Go figure that.

Shooting offhand with a hasty sling and a glove at fifty yards I was able to group five rounds under three inches with the Kar (I really think the ammo is too hot in this case) and near two inches (ragged holes w/ one or two tight flyers) with the Swede and the Lee Enfield. I was well pleased. I didn't use an eyepatch; maybe my eyes are getting better than they were the last few years.

I picked up a bandolier of FN 56 - headstamped ammo in five-round strippers when we went through Winnemucca a few weeks ago. If you own a .303 I cannot recommend it strongly enough. If I'd known how consistent and reliable the stuff was, I would have bought at least two or three more bandoliers. I assume it's still corrosive (it is Berdan primed) and clean up still begins with boiling water.

The incident: I was just packing up to go when there was a loud(er than normal) BOOM from the other end of the firing line. Looking right, down the line, I saw a large man hitting the concrete rightside first, his back to me, in a cloud of smoke. The coaches immediately called cease fire/step away from the line. The injured shooter had been shooting a sidelock CVA .54 muzzleloader. It failed at the breech as he was firing from the standing position, blowing the sideplate, lockwork, breechplug, and tang completely apart. I walked down to the action to offer assistance if needed, but the injured shooter was already taken under care by the shooter from his right. It turned out that that shooter was a state-certified Hunter Ed instructor and had just finished his Red Cross recertification the day before. The line safety officers basically kept out of his way, called 911, set about collecting the scattered parts, and went up and down the line ensuring all shooters' weapons were complete safe weapons. It was ten minutes to five at that time, so there weren't any hard feelings about missing range time (/sarcasm).

The injured shooter had burns to his face EXCEPT for where his safety glasses covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose. A portion of the tang (the metal strap that affixes to the top of the stock to anchor the barrel) was briefly embedded in his forehead just over his right eye but he knocked that out before he hit the concrete.

Listen up: I have until now been content to wear my street glasses alone when I shoot. Yes, they are ballistic polycarbonate - but they are styled for wear on the street. There is a gap over the bridge of my nose and they only cover from just under my eyebrows to just under my eyes. The safety glasses worn by the injured shooter were burned black - black like two coats of flat black primer on a Dodge quarterpanel. (The same was true of his forehead and cheeks.)The right lens had a deformation just above and right of center but it did not fail - this deformation was likely from a corner of the tang striking the lens at the moment the breechplug failed. If he had been wearing glasses like mine, burning powder would undoubtedly have shot into both his eyes and the right lens most certainly would have been knocked inward, out of its oval frame, and into his eye. Blinded, without a doubt.

I went down to a local welders' supply on Tuesday and picked up two pairs of optic-clear polycarbonate safety glasses. They fit over all but the largest glasses or work just fine by themselves. ANSI single piece lenses at eight bucks and change is cheap insurance for your eyes. I wish I'd had a camera; a couple thousand words will have to do.

Two more points:

1. The range did not have FIRST AID KITS in place. None. The samaritan staunched the blood with a wad of dampened paper towels until EMS responded - which was almost fifteen minutes after the accident.

2. I have the equivalent of a trauma-response first aid pack that lives in my truck. Gloves, pressure dressings, abdominal pads, burn dressings, tape, betadine solution and swabs, some in- case- of- femoral- bleeding- size hemostats and a GI field surgery kit, along with bandaids, triple antibiotic ointment, burn gel, and right on top a good first aid guide with a very good "do this first!" checklist on the back cover. There is also included other such miscellenous stuff all clumsy people who camp or shoot or just travel should never be without. This collection lives in an O.D. nylon toolbag marked with red crosses. I also carry a random Tijuana cotton blanket as a part of the kit. It's always good to keep the victim off the ground, and you never know when you'll need a furniture pad.

Forgot about it completely. Didn't think of it at all until the rescue squad was actually rolling into the parking lot. Duh.

I had intended to write this post sooner, but I tossed my back out Tuesday and just haven't had the will to get much done until this weekend.

All else is well here in the home of TmjUtah. I hope the same is true whereever you are.

Still Here

Just not making much noise.

No prob with the mole. "Benign" is surely one of the most beautiful words one can hear in a medical setting. Wife and I took the Labor Day weekend on the road - four days in all, all the way to Sacramento by way of Tahoe. Lovely.

We had our first snow Saturday.

I hate the winter. Everything hurts. Problem is I already hurt all through this summer. Old age may be catching up with me.

No. Caught me, kicked me in the fork, and is winding up for a few more good ones...

I can't find any energy for war or politics. They are not seperate issues, of course. The democrats just want to surrender and get back to power until they destroy our economy or the until the next mass casualty attack (there ought to be a pool on that), the republicans (for the most part) don't want to lose but are too busy doing a performance art project called "gormless" and nobody wants to speak of how the fight will really be decided, anyway. This is not entirely the rep's fault in that the media, pop culture, and academia of the west are monolithically against standing up for silly old democracy, even if it is the basis for their decadence first and riches second.

We Are LEAVING....!

Yesterday was Mom and Pa Utah's 19th anniversary and Mom's XXth birthday.

Dinner at Tucano's Brazillian Grill last night, and today we are just getting the hell out of dodge (in the Dodge, oddly enough) until sometime tomorrow. We are thinking Moab and then back up through central Utah on blue highways - Cedar Breaks, Panquitch, whatever.

We didn't have time to get presents, no cake. Between work and end of summer socializing for the Goddesses, we have been way too busy.

So, we go. Then, we come back.

Hope the war doesn't start while we are on the road. Trying to wait it out or predict with any certainty is futile, though, so, WE GO!



I hope you have a wonderful weekend.

Corpsman Up

I grew up in West Texas and have worked outside exclusively since leaving home. Over the years I have had regular visits to my GP for sessions with the liquid nitrogen bottle. The docs have never found anything to freeze but patches of actinic keratosis until today.

This afternoon the Physicians Assistant zorched about twenty patches on my arms, face, and back. He pushed his fingertip between my shoulderblades for a moment then asked if my family had any history of melanoma. I'm adopted, but my father (adopted) was taken by the diesease in '91. Five months from diagonosis to death.

Seems I had a mole back there. Now that's not surprising - my wife has mentioned it to me before, and it's been seen by my doctor before, too. Today it was both irregular and varicolored, and about eight millimeters across. It's gone now. He made two passes with the sharp pointy implements in order to remove all traces of the growth and then closed with two stitches.

I get the biopsy results back in a week or ten days.


How 'bout that U.N. ceasefire, eh?


More news later, if necessary.