Kakahead

OK, if you look below this post you’ll see I’m ON VACATION.  So, I’ll post more stuff after I come back.

Peace,

Ken

Dear Antenna Ranchers,

I found it necessary to let you all know that I am on vacation tomorrow, and you are not.  Unless you are, then you are also.

On vacation.

Have I mentioned I’m not working tomorrow??  Oh wait… I’m writing this thing called Happy Friday.  So that means it’s today already!!  Which means:  I’m on vacation!!  And you are not.  Unless you are.  On vacation.

Deja Vu…

Ha ha on you who must work, I laugh to you.   I bet your toenails are shivering at the thought of working for the next many days.  This is very amusing to me indeed.

I plan to spend the day doing things that I do not get paid to do.  This is why it is called vacation.  Although it won’t happen THIS time, some of my favorite things to do are playing in the garden, sleeping longer than normal and maybe even forgetting how to shave my cat’s teddy bear baskets.  The garden must be carefully tilled with explosives and high pressure syrup hoses.  Following that, I methodically mix all my veggie seeds together in a large five gallon bucket and fling them into the syrup explosion zones.  Pancakes will be sprouting before June 48 if we don’t get any rain…

We are driving to Florida this time, which is many hours on our hineys in a small car we affectionately call, “Old Rattlebonken.”  We go to visit family, no Mickety Mouse for the likes of us (Thank God).  The most important thing is I will be with my loved ones and not at work.

On the other hand, I just ate a grape from Meijer that tasted like fish.  I never knew they had fish grapes.  Now I must try my hand at making fish raisins or maybe one of YOU could send me the recipe for fish wine. If I recall correctly, there are stories of a very famous person who could convert bread into water and fish into wine.  So as you can see, fish wine is not a new concept.

However, regardless of how much fish wine you may care to produce, I will not be having any with your breaded water meal.  I am a recovering fishaholic, so it might not be a very good idea for me to start drinking fish again.  I’ll just have to enjoy the fish raisins, or maybe peanut butter and fish jelly sandwiches with a glass of coconut milk.

How many moles does it take to get a jar of molasses??  Those poor moles, running around with no hineys.  They are brave to sacrifice their booty just so we can have our jars of molasses.  Not sure why we civilized people even allow jars of molasses to be sold in stores.  I mean, do you ever see jars of mouseknees, cricketlips, or even seagullstomachs??  Nope.  Just molasses.

Dinner for every day during this vacation will be pizza and Snickers bars.  Freshly squeezed fish grapes will be served up as a nice hot beverage with a dollop of whipped crab juice on the side.  No farmers will be harmed in this extravaganza.  It’s very possible I need a vacation.

Please have a safe and odiferous working time.  Are you on vacation?  No, you are not.

ME, not YOU.

My eyes have suddenly turned into olives!!!

Conko De Bonko,

Kenny Calibration
a.k.a. “Fossil Tongue Pete”



Listen… do you smell something?  I detect air most foul, with sadness and hardship springing therefrom.  O woe are we who toil all our lives; reaping not much for ourselves but yea our labours doth weave silver and gold fabrics for our masters.  Our reward is to toil yet another day.  And lo, toil we must; lest we be cast off.   And if we no longer fulfill The Purpose, we shall be cast off anyhow.

For we are the worker ants, and they are the Anteaters.

Say what?

OK I’ll quit speaking in code.  Our economy is supposedly in a recovery of sorts, but it’s difficult to convince all the millions of unemployed.   Here in Michigan, we seem to have an extra helping of job loss.  Isn’t that special?   We’re experiencing quite a bit of change; and unfortunately that means that companies are restructuring or even going out of business.  Manufacturing still exists here, and with the advent of alternative energy innovations, new opportunities are on the horizon.  However, they are slow in coming; and in the meantime many are faced with losing their jobs or at the very least working for less money and trimmed down benefits.

Recently, the folks where I work were called into a meeting and given some details of an upcoming reorganization.   Between 65 and 80 people will lose their jobs; and more may follow later.  Other meetings were scheduled but a “verbal threat of violence” was uttered and those meetings were postponed.   Mind you, none of the particulars of the meeting came as any surprise to us.  We all knew business was bad and that changes were likely.  That doesn’t take the sting out of it.  And conversely, tough times are not an excuse for making threats or being abusive.   It doesn’t make such behavior OK, but fear makes icky, and icky makes people react in ways they normally would not.

A bit of a Déjà vu for me; I’ve been laid off before.  It wasn’t the end of the world, but it wasn’t exactly the easiest eight months I had to deal with either.  I had the gamut of emotions:  sadness, depression, apathy, anger.  Fortunately for me I also surrounded myself with positive people; who cheered me on and helped me through it.  And I know it sounds corny, but I learned that I really did have Someone Upstairs looking out for me (when I let Them).  In other words, with a little help from my friends I managed to connect to my God and received an inner peace that told me I would get through it.

Because I’ve “been there, done that,”  I have been trying to be upbeat and think out loud to my friends and coworkers.  I say really silly things like, “my wife is a nurse and works with quadruplegics.  We don’t have such problems… things could be much worse.”  Or else maybe I’ll bring up the fact that “everyone here is talented, we just need to learn how to translate that into a good resume.”  Doesn’t seem to help much.  When I was laid off, I was told that I needed to draw upon my strengths in order to “make myself marketable.”  At first, that seemed a rather disgusting notion.  “After all these years, THIS is how I get treated?”  I thought to myself.  Many of the folks who will lose their jobs have never worked anywhere else.  I can only imagine how they feel.

I can’t seem to find my magic wand; so to my dismay I won’t be able to fix our sick economy.  Nor will I be able to change the age-old system of the haves vs. the have-nots.  Rich people are in control.  The rich stay rich, the poor become more numerous, and we worker ants get to pay for it all.  Although it seems like complete information bombardment, the media are keeping us in the know like never before.  So, with a little luck and some persistence, maybe we can work together and effect some change for the better.

It takes effort and awareness, but I believe we all have a duty to be ever vigilant and speak out where we smell foul air.  I’ve said it before:  the strongest vote we have is how (and where) we spend our money.  Rich people need to be held accountable for the kind of businesses they run.  Face it, if it were not for US spending OUR money, they wouldn’t be rich.  Pretty sad state of affairs when we have more millionaires than ever but food banks can barely keep up with the need.  As Dr. Seuess’s character The Lorax said, “but business is business and business must grow, regardless of crummies in tummies you know.”

A few months ago one of the marketing guys (who is several years younger than me) told me, “you know, anyone who thinks the CEO doesn’t care about our jobs is just wrong.”

It only took me a microsecond to respond:  “It’s kinda like when the mafia does a hit on your brother.  It’s nothing personal, just business.”

Nobody told me there’d be days like these…

Ah yes, I remember it well.  Way back in October of nineteen hundred and sixty two, Columbus sailed the oceans blue.  Of course any schoolchild can remember the three ships he used to discover Atlanta:  the Nina, the Pinta, and the Sacagawea.  Having finally been discovered, the residents of Atlanta rejoiced with great happiness and had cause for wildly joyous celebration.  It was at this time Coca Cola was invented by mixing wonderfully flavorful ingredients with the melting snows of March just before the eve of St. Patrick’s Day.  Then of course the Vikings came from Minnesota and conquered everyone involved by kabonking them on the noggins with their footballs.

Perhaps I am a little less than accurate with my history, but if you don’t believe me the burden of proof is on YOU!!  HAHAHA!!  So THERE!

Seriously folks, I just flew in from the coast, and boy are my arms tired.  Doctor!!  It hurts when I do this!  (DON’T DO THAT!!)

Anyway, you see, it’s like this:  Dad was 100% Norwegian (a Viking).  Mom’s father was straight from Ireland.  Her mom was Austro-Hungarian, which means absolutely nothing to today’s schoolchildren.  Anyway, Mom used to celebrate St. Patty’s Day like any good Catholic should.  We each had to wear something green, had to say “Erin go bragh” at least once on the special day, and ate corned beef and cabbage.  St. Patty’s Day was kinda fun, and it also meant something very important:  spring and of course the Easter Bunny were right around the corner.  Life as a kid was simple, everything had a very brief explanation, and you were cool with it.  And as a kid growing up on Long Island, New York I hung out with lots of Irish kids.  We were not only good friends, we even had some physical traits in common:  freckles for example.  I had lots, they had lots.  They had red hair.  I had really blonde hair as kid which turned reddish brown as I got older.

So then I made a big mistake:  I grew up. Am I a ninny or what??  I did what so many others did while growing up, I sought answers.  I did crazy and exotic things like watch public TV.  And there on Nova or something was this history of the Vikings.  Those crazy guys were the gang members of yesteryear, and they terrorized much of Europe and beyond.  And I learned that of one of their favorite hangouts was:  Ireland.  No big deal, right??  WRONG!!! It yanked the innocence carpet right out from under me.  From what the historians had to say, the Irish never really had freckles or red hair until the Vikings came a-conquering and started messing with their gene pool.  All that raping and pillaging left its mark..

OK so like, what’s the big deal??  Well I’ll tell ya, it spoiled St. Patty’s Day for me, awright??  Vikings on my Dad’s side and Irish on my Mom’s side.  Hmmm…. According to history, my ancestors raped and pillaged my ancestors!!  Gack!!  I hope they have apologized over the years.  I don’t want to get in the middle of any dueling banjo family feud stuff.  Or would that be reindeer antler / shileleagh fights??  Heck, I don’t know.  What I do know is that no matter how much I try, I’m still not really fond of corned beef and cabbage.  And since I’m allergic to alcoholic beverages (they make me break out in traffic violations) (among other things) (you wouldn’t want to go there, trust me) (OK enough with the parentheses already), as I said since I’m allergic to alcoholic beverages, I won’t be drinking any green beer.  Heck even when I was a drinker, green beer never really sounded yummy to me.

I truly hope all the Irish enjoy their upcoming holiday.  All of my silly bantering cannot take anything away from the importance of St. Patrick to his country and its wonderful people.  Those who know me understand that I’m pretty much full of cabbage soup (or something) much of the time.  If I have offended anyone please allow me to invite you over and I’ll try to make nice… we can sit by the fireplace and dip our corned beef  in some lime Kool-Aid, and I’ll even let you draw a shamrock on my arm with a magic marker.  Then we could sing a few verses of “When Irish Eyes Are Smilin’.”  I’ll even wear my Viking hat and clunk myself silly with my reindeer antler shileleagh.

Or not.

Erin Go Bragh!!

I usually like to post something silly here on a Friday night. However, I simply had to speak out about a tragic yet completely avoidable event that hit the news recently. Unless you live in a cave, you’ve heard about the death of Dawn Brancheau, the trainer at Sea World.   When I first learned of her tragic demise, I was both saddened and disgusted.

I was saddened for obvious reasons, and I said some prayers for her and her loved ones.

I was disgusted because of the commercial circus that I feel was the direct cause of her death.  Sea World gets big bucks from the Shamu name and killer whale shows.  Hello?!?!?  These animals are called  KILLER whales for a reason!!  It’s not because they are bad, but it describes how the Creator made them.  It’s in their nature.  They KILL.  And boy do they have the equipment for it!  Why would anyone in their right mind think it’s even remotely OK to have humans in a tank full of killer whales?

I guess it’s the same line of thought that goes through the trainers of lions, and tigers, and bears (oh my)!   People are willing to pay money to watch other humans risk their lives via close contact with wild animals.  Anyone remember what happened to Siegfried & Roy?  Roy Horn was nearly killed by a tiger in 2003.  Unfortunately, that did not stop others from continuing on with their wild animal acts.

Oh but wait!! They’re not wild, they’ve been bred in captivity!  This is the sickness that afflicts the commercial numbskulls who minimize the danger in favor of scooping up cash.   And why wouldn’t they be OK with that?  They’re getting rich.   After all, the executives at Sea World are not the ones jumping in the water with these killer whales.

Now for the really sick stuff:  not only did the killer whale shows resume, they “honored” the trainer with a video tribute at the beginning.  All this only three days after she was killed.

I hate to admit it, but my grandparents were right; even when I was a kid.  “There’s no such thing as common sense anymore,” we heard over and over again.

Little did I know how wise they were.  Who knows?  Maybe it’s the end of the world as we know it (and yes I do love that song).  Too many humans value money over everything else.

Maybe it’s time for us to inject a little common sense here and there.  You know, do something really weird like boycott Sea World for example.  I suppose I could be banished to a deserted island for suggesting such things.

After all, money makes the (Sea) World go ‘round.