F*cking with e-mail scammers

Why hello there, reader of this obscure little blog. Please allow me to ask your opinion about something. As I'm sure you do too, I receive lots of SPAM. Haven't you always been curious about the person(s) behind the messages imploring your assistance to either transfer a large amount of money and/or make an "investment" in American businesses?

Scanning through the SPAM folder his morning, I received just such a message. The only reason it caught my eye was that I laughed out loud at the random capitalization of some words. My original intention was to merely blog about this precise issue, but then I thought ... hey, wouldn't it be fun to engage this person(s) in a conversation as if I were actually suckered into the scam?

So, gentle reader, what do you think? Shall we play along for a while? I propose that I respond, post it here, and of course ask your ongoing input as to how you think we (as a group) should play the game.

This is the entire message, redacted so that the scammer's address cannot be spotlighted by a 'net spider.

From: "xxxxxxxxxx"
Date: December 23, 2008 12:29:00 AM EST
Subject: Hello / partnership request
Reply-To:

Hello,
I am a Civil Lawyer. I have a Client that has Interest in Investing in Your Country, can You be of Assistance? I shall give Details when You Reply.
xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx

Godspeed, Eartha

Eartha Kitt has died. Not only did she entertain us since the 1950s with her unique voice ("Santa Baby" rings a particular bell today, Christmas), but she was also an extremely talented actress. People under the age of 40 and especially those with children may know her best as the deliciously evil and comedic voice of Yzma from "The Emperor's New Groove."

Nobody on the planet has ever made that kitten-ish "grrrrrrrr" sound quite like she did. Godspeed Eartha, and thank you.

Ticker Tastes

I wish that I had the technology and/or smarts to visually illustrate my point (although I probably have both, but frankly you're not worth the time I'd have to spend to demonstrate the fact).

As a news junkie, I've recently noticed there has been a change in the ways that television networks show tickers. Y'know what I mean. At the bottom of the screen there is up-to-the-minute information regarding subjects as wide ranging as sports scores, headline news items, or school closings.

CNN Headline News has changed from an annoying barely-literate-speed scrolling format to a much more useful static and vertical format. While I'm sure there are people earning zillions of dollars a year whom have determined the on-screen time is the same, it's far more "readable."

EPSN's SportsCenter continues to display the old fashioned rolling text, but they also display a running list of upcoming stories on the right hand side of the television screen.

Of all the recent changes, I have to tip my hat to WBZ-TV Channel 4 in Boston for the most helpful and wisest user-friendly ticker when it comes to the subject of school closings.

For years I've waited (im)patiently for the local news stations' tickers' alphabetical list to roll 'round to my town to learn about a school delay and/or closing. WBZ split their ticker into two bars -- one for public schools, and the other into the more obscure institutions such as dance academies, choirs, church groups, and hermaphrodite support groups.

Not that there's anything wrong with a support group for hermaphrodites.

Best Pictures of 2008

Continuing my recent theme of year-end lists, click here to see the Boston.com compilation of the year's best photographs.

TSG's Best Mugshots of 2008

The Smoking Gun has finally posted the 2008 Mug Shots of the Year. For maximum enjoyment, keep in mind that sometimes you have to click on the associated link which explains the story behind the picture.

17 Degrees? Check. Drunk? Check. Speedo? Check.

That must mean you're participating in the annual Santa Speedo Run. Each year in mid-December, people gather at about 10:00 AM in pubs in downtown Boston. They drink for a few hours, take off all their clothes to reveal Speedos or bikinis, then run through the frigid air. Each runner is responsible to provide at least $250 for a charity. People from all across the country fly to Boston just to drink, run, and raise money! Isn't that so cool? Erm . . . really cold?

I've got to do this next year.

Lots more pictures can be found here.

I got one!

Commenting would be superfluous. Go ahead and laugh, especially if you had one too.

2008 Year-End Google Zeitgeist

Google has released their 2008 Year-End Zeitgeist. I always find this interesting.

After a whirlwind year of election news, economy woes, and the lead-up to the showstopping Summer Games in Beijing, we're looking back to see what was on the minds of Americans through it all. One thing's for sure: it was a wild ride.

Kimmel's Funny, Damon's a Good Sport

As you may know, Jimmy Kimmel ends each broadcast by "apologizing" to Matt Damon because he's run out of time, so Matt won't be on the show. Unless you live under a rock, you've seen or at least heard about the Sarah Silverman (Kimmel's real-life girlfriend) and Damon video wherein Sarah tells Jimmy that she's secretly been "f*ing Matt Damon."

Being the good sport that Damon is, here's a recent clip from Kimmel's show.

Matt Damon Does Bourne, Kimmel Style - watch more funny videos

Mario Kart Love Song

Back in 1996 or 1997 my sons and I got a Nintendo 64 system. It came with Mario Kart. There is no possible way for me to even begin to estimate how many times we played it over the years.

If you're not familiar with the game, don't bother clicking this to hear a very clever love song about protecting the one for whom you care from red shells, blue shells, Bowser, and DK.

I let everybody win. My two teenage sons, my 6-year-old daughter, and especially an over-confident young lady named Dana. *shrug* It makes them feel good for a few minutes when I throw the race at the last possible moment. It's very difficult to lose a game and look like you're really trying to win.

The blue shell is coming
So I'll go ahead
If you hang behind
It will hit me instead

Cool Photography Site

To view thousands upon thousands of great user-submitted photographs, check out Pixdaus.

1986 Rewind .... Oh Yeaaaaaah

Tonight I made a particularly favorite meal of my son's, and when he put down his fork he said "oh yeaaaaaaah."

I of course responded by loudly whispering "chick-chick-it-chick-it-ahhhhhh" in reference to the song by the band Yellow from the classic "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."

He looked at me with a puzzled expression somewhere between I had lost my mind and "wow that was funky, daddy-o."

Leap back to the mid-1980's and listen to one of the zillions of snippets from the song available on YouTube. This one is particularly amusing because of the bizarre imagery.

Ferris: I do have a test today. That wasn't bullshit. It's on European socialism. I mean, really, what's the point? I'm not European. I don't plan on being European. So who cares if they're socialists? They could be fascist anarchists. It still doesn't change the fact that I don't own a car. Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon, "I don't believe in The Beatles, I just believe in me." Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people.

Wes Welker is one tough motherf*cker

You can love, hate, or be indifferent about the Patriots. But you can't deny that Wes Welker is one seriously tough motherf*cker. I can't even begin to imagine how much this hit must have hurt. But Wes got up under his own power. We don't even need to mention how many receptions and kick returns he's had this year. The guy must have a titanium skeleton to take this kind of abuse week after week.

Time Flies

I have nothing much to offer here, as my thoughts about attending a 20 year high school reunion have been written countless times by others. Has it really been over two decades since I last saw these guys?

Send a Note to a Soldier

No big preamble, just the facts and the hope that you'll take a few seconds out of your day to say hello to a soldier.

The mission of Let's Say Thanks is to provide a way for individuals across the country to recognize U.S. troops stationed overseas. By submitting a message through this site you have the opportunity to send a free personalized postcard greeting to deployed servicemen and women.

The postcards, depicting patriotic scenes and hometown images, were selected from a pool of entries from children across the country.

All you have to do is click on your favorite design and either select the message that best expresses your sentiment or draft a personal note. The postcards are then printed on the Xerox iGen3® Digital Production Press and mailed in care packages by military support organization Give2TheTroops®.

Xerox is committed to helping people across the nation express their gratitude to our troops overseas. The launch of this program is aimed at reminding them how much Americans appreciate their service.

That's not a tumor .... it's a worm in your brain

And the worms ate into his brain.
-- "Hey You" by Pink Floyd

If you're squeamish, do not read this article.

Doctors in Arizona thought a Phoenix-area woman had a possible brain tumor, but it turned out there was something else penetrating her brain – a worm.

It's the Little Things

Somebody who cares for me did a very nice thing today. While it might not be a big deal to the person who does it, that's precisely why it's so special. It's the little things that makes the world go 'round. Here's hoping that there are people in your life that make your world go 'round too.

Cool Fundraiser for a Good Cause

Today kicks off the 16th annual "Walk & Rock for Change," a multi-day fundraiser by 107.3 FM WAAF. Proceeds are donated to Boston area food banks. Millions and millions of dollars have been donated over the years.

During the Walk & Rock for Change, two members of the station's morning show walk from a distant point toward Boston. Along the way they collect donations -- ranging from kids emptying their piggy banks of nickels and pennies, to large offices which combine employee donations and hand over thousands of dollars.

Meanwhile, back at the studio, the DJs take calls from listeners and challenge them to request a song in exchange for a donation. You can have any song played on the airwaves ... but the farther away from the hard-edge rock and roll format the song request is, the more you have to give. It's a riot when a wealthy person calls and donates an impressive amount of money, then has WAAF play something such as the song on the radio right now, a country song called "Lucky Man" by Montgomery Gentry.

Good lord. Somebody just pledged $1,000 to hear any Barbara Streisand tune. Ha! That's great! The DJs are rolling on the floor with laughter.

It's fun and inspiring to hear the governors of Massachusetts and New Hampshire, local and national sports celebrities, actors, comedians, and various other famous people calling into the station and making hilarious song requests. As an example, NBC sports commentator and former NY Giants running back Tiki Barber gave $1,000 this morning if WAAF agreed to play Digital Underground's "Humpty Hump."

Call 866-517-WAAF to make a request and a donation. More people than ever are depending on everybody to help.

** Update **
I'm going to list some of the funnier tunes I hear over the next few days.
The "Menomena" Song by the Muppets. $300!
Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr. $200!
It's Raining Men by The Weather Girls. LMAO! $250! A bargain indeed.

Congratulations, Pedey!

I thought that the prevailing anti-Boston bias would get Josh Hamilton enough votes, but our very own Dustin Pedroia has been named the American League MVP!

Get Your Geek On

If you're like me, then you're running around in little happy circles in anticipation of the new Star Trek movie. Too bad that Shatner isn't involved, but I'm still wishing time would fast forward at maximum warp 'til May 2009. Until then, live long and prosper.

You can see the trailers here.

Lost and Found Kitties

The Associated Press is reporting that a cat which had been lost for 13 years has been reunited with it's owners. My first thought was "how can they be sure it's the same cat?" At the conclusion of the article it was revealed that the cat had a subdermal microchip, so there can be no doubt about the identity.

My father lived in a nice town along the Hudson River in New York. One day his cat (whom he named the wildly uncreative "Galleria" after the mall at which he purchased her) didn't come home. After a few weeks with no sightings nor news of her recovery, he threw away all the kitty supplies -- litter box, cat food, toys, and so forth.

Almost exactly one year later he was having supper with his wife on their back porch. He noticed a ragged, nervous, and borderline feral cat watching them intently from the edge of the woods. After they were finished eating he left some scraps of meat on the porch, went inside, and watched to see what would happen next. Yep. You guessed it. Galleria had found her way back home, having somehow survived through the winter and avoiding coyotes.

These stories give me hope that one day Sonny will find his way back home.

Oh! Hey! This is bizarre!

So I was hanging out with friends the other night who happen to be addicted to concert DVDs. Trust me, it's a shock to the system to see '80s era Journey (Steve "hangs to the left" Perry in his tight pants), followed my the Allman Brothers (Warren's hair was so long!), followed by ... wait for it ... wait for it ... Michael McDonald. Yes, go ahead and quote the 40 Year Old Version. I did.

Okay, so here's the really bizarre thing. While for the first time in my life ever losing a game of cribbage (my ex-wife will surely rip me a new one in the comments for saying that), I happened to glance up at the TV and who did I see pounding out a kick-ass drum solo? Steve Gadd! Holy crap! Steve frickin' Gadd producing sweat on stage for Michael McDonald! It's like catching Neil Peart playing with Paul Anka. I've already embarrassed myself on this blog by gushing over his skills.

If I believed in God, he'd be Him. I wish that I had 1/100th of his talent. That man is ... *head explodes*

I've Failed as a Father

I've had an especially crappy day, but as regular readers of my blog know, I'm not one of the brave ones whom discuss such things publicly. However, I feel the need to tell you that I've been proven to be a failure as a father.

How could this have happened? What circuit in my parental mind didn't carry the current? Will I ever be forgiven for the transgression, the lapse in my duty as a dad?

I prepared a yummy dinner for me and my son, put it in the oven, and then went back to my home office while the main course cooked before it was time to start the side dishes. Me being me, I clicked open the iTunes library and cranked up the music. Inspired by a recently created eclectic mix CD which I'd made for a friend, I felt the need for R.L. Burnside.

With "Rollin' Tumblin' (remix)" playing loudly, I sauntered back into the kitchen and asked my son rhetorically, "Ain't Burnside awesome?" He might as well have unexpectedly slapped me across the face with all his might, as my reaction was the same when he asked "who's Burnside?"

*sigh*

Oh, the shame. The weighty, horrible, guilty shame. I've always prided myself on being a good father. How could this kid, who truly appreciates everything from Bach to Booker T & the MGs to Beck to Bush to Billie Holiday to Branford to Blind Melons to Bad Religion to Blues Traveller to Bo Diddley to Bobby Bland to Bela Fleck to Bebel to Billy Idol to Boston to B.B. King not know Burnside?

I begged his forgiveness, and we listened to Burnside loudly -- really loudly -- as we ate.

Perhaps one day he will absolve me from my sin.

Swelled Chest Patriotic

Tonight we will elect a new President of the United States. Regardless if you're a Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Socialist, Communist, Anarchist ... whatever ... I sincerely hope that you voted. It's one of our three most important rights as Americans.

I can't predict who will be in the White House at this time next year. But I can predict with certainty that I will support whomever it is. He will be my President, as elected by the populace, and I will proudly respect our collective decision.

All that being said, I'm feeling especially patriotic at the moment. Please continue to keep all of our soldiers serving around the world and domestically in mind. They willingly choose to wear the uniform, and put their lives on the line for you and me.

The video clip is one which I've posted previously when I discussed the Patriot Guard Riders, but can never be posted too often.

Ha! You Arrogant Prick!

Serves him right. I don't care whether or not you agree because, well, this is my blog. I frickin' can't stand Anthony Kiedis. He's a horrible singer, an arrogant strutting peacock, and is said to be a real prick. But I grudgingly admit he's a hell of a lyricist. And the musicians in the Red Hot Chili Peppers are outstanding.

Van Morrison's F*You Album

After listening to Greg Hill on 107.3 WAAF in the mornings (thanks to Pete for turning me onto the show during the David Lee Roth train wreck), I usually flip over to WBCN 'round about noon. I like listening to Mike Hsu too, but Adam's da man.

What the hell was the point of this post? Oh, yeah! WAAF used a little snippet from an obscure Van Morrison tune as bumper, something inserted between commercials to keep listeners' attention, in which he asks somebody in the studio if they'd like to have lunch. I laughed outloud and clapped because I knew precisely from what song it was taken.

Long ago I downloaded all 31 tracks from Van Morrison's "f*you" recording session while under contract with Bang Records in 1967.

Rather than trying to explain it all over again, here's the copied-and-pasted explanation (with gentle editing for length) behind the bizarre and hilarious tracks. They're a bit difficult to find nowadays, but this site has a couple of samples.

In order to fulfill his obligation to his early solo label Bang Records,Van Morrison sat down in 1967 and cranked out 31 songs on the spot, on topics ranging from ringworm to wanting a danish, to hating his record label and a guy named George.

None of this stuff was ever issued in the '60's. I guess there's irony in the fact that Morrison recorded these tunes as a big f*you to his label - before he signed to Warner and recorded Astral Weeks - yet ultimately the joke's on him, now that they're being packaged as legitimate tracks (on "best-of" collections, no less).

Get Your Halloween Geek On

Are you curious about how much candy it takes to fill up a pillowcase? Take a guess by either weight or number of pieces, then read all about it.

Project Implicit

I found the concept and research methodology behind Project Implicit to be extremely interesting. Perhaps you will too.

Project Implicit blends basic research and educational outreach in a virtual laboratory at which visitors can examine their own hidden biases. Project Implicit is the product of research by three scientists whose work produced a new approach to understanding of attitudes, biases, and stereotypes.

The Project Implicit site (implicit.harvard.edu) has been functioning as a hands-on science museum exhibit, allowing web visitors to experience the manner in which human minds display the effects of stereotypic and prejudicial associations acquired from their socio-cultural environment.

Sometimes SPAM Is Awesome

I hate SPAM as much as everybody else, but I have a guilty confession. Sometimes the subject line cracks me up. Thereby, I enjoy scanning through the hundreds upon hundreds of messages automatically sent to purgatory.

Today I saw one which was a real gem. I always have the same thought ... "who the hell responds to this?"

Suffice it to say that the best SPAM message I've received in a long time was entitled "our love meetings." Did I miss something? Did I participate in multiple "love meetings" and have somehow forgotten about them? And why would I respond if the aforementioned love meetings were so forgettable? Wow.

Poking Fun at Palin

Regardless of your political opinion, there's no arguing the fact that clicking on various objects in the Oval Office with Sarah Palin behind the desk is amusing.

Make It Stop ... My Face Hurts from Laughing

** WARNING -- The following video is definitely not safe for work, and please do not play it if there are children in the vicinity. It's simply not appropriate for them, and it includes a couple of f-bombs and s-grenades. **

I laughed so hard at "sexy 1900's steel conglomerate tycoon .... sexy sexy ... and frog" that my face and stomach actually hurt. I'm still involuntarily breaking out into chuckling like a lunatic.

Not So Sweet

Perhaps it's because last night my beloved Red Sox lost their bid to play in the World Series, but I'm annoyed enough by an item in this morning's news that I'm going to talk a bit about politics on my blog.

School administrators in Newburyport Massachusetts have banned all sweets. No more happy children sharing cupcakes with their classmates on their birthday, no Twinkies in their lunch boxes, and no Halloween candy.

I could almost understand it if the school chose not to sell these items in the cafeteria, but who gives them the right to tell parents what they can or cannot include in their own children's lunches?

Sadly, Newburyport has joined a number of Orwellian towns in Massachusetts such as the People's Republic of Brookline that tells us we need to be protected from trans fats.

If my kids attended school in Newburyport, their lunches today would have been nothing else than Oreos, Starburst, Chips Ahoy, M&Ms, Ring Dings, and two cans of soda. Preferably something so obscenely sugary like Tahitian Treat or grape soda. I'd include a letter for presentation to whatever draconian administrator tried to confiscate their lunch. In that letter I'd declare that I and my children have a powerful belief in the holiness of sweet snacks. It's no more or less ridiculous than any other "religion" on the planet.

Val's New Flag

I've never claimed to be the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Proof of my dim-witted mind is evidenced by the fact that when I purchased a flag to replace the thin and slightly tattered nylon one which used to fly behind Val on Patriot Guard Rider missions, I didn't check the specifications carefully. Val now flies a cotton flag.

Without going into great details, I was forced to subject the aircraft aluminum mast to a trial by fire yesterday. When the hundreds upon of hundred bikes rolled through the streets of Rocky Hill Connecticut, I had one of those "oh no ... this can't be happening" moments of panic. The pack turned off the side roads and headed out onto the highway for the ride to East Hartford.

I'm shocked happy to report that Val's mast can survive holding aloft the heavy 4 x 6 flag while traveling at 60+ miles per hour. For the record, it is both extremely difficult and unsafe to ride a motorcycle in formation and at that speed while continually looking behind you at the flag on your bike. Not for the faint of heart.

If you're in the New England region, I highly recommend that you visit the traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall. It'll be on display until October 19th. For more information, go here. For a short video about the ride in which I participated yesterday, click here.

Cool Ringtone Generator

Being the parent of a teenager has many challenges. There are also many many many benefits. One such benefit is having them clue you, fellow old person, into cool 'net technologies and sites.

Kudos and thanks to my high school sophomore son Joey. He told me about PhoneZoo. This site, for free, allows you to create a customized cell phone ringtone.

Whenever my phone rings I will now involuntarily break out into an embarrassing air drumming session, playing along with Will Calhoun during his awesome accompaniment with guitarist Vernon Reid at the climax of "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour.


For the record, my ringtone is now 3:35 - 3:55 of the above hyperlinked YouTube clip.

Welcome to the World, Vanessa

There's nothing quite like babies. I don't know about you, but I absolutely love babies. Put a baby in my arms, and I am immediately at peace with the world. I love the way they smell, their warmth in my arms against my chest, and those precious little squeaks and gurgles.

Excuse me for a moment while I belch, scratch my crotch, and put on my motorcycle jacket.

Nah ... I take it back. There's no reason to joke about it. Babies are the epitome of all things good, pure, and wonderful.

Welcome to the world, Vanessa Lumine. Vanessa's parents are two of my mostest favoritest people, so Uncle Don will always be willing to babysit (steal) her for hours, days, or weeks.

Congratulations, Geno and Jenny. I am very proud ... without reason nor justification. Proud nonetheless.



[The following is for Geno only. If you are not Geno, then please respect our privacy and close this window. Hey Geno ... whenever you're ready, I bet you $10 that I can change a diaper faster and with better results that you can. Bring it, Dad. I've had a lot more practice, and I know you can't turn down a bet. HA!]

Aaron Lewis Sings Pearl Jam

"Black" by Pearl Jam is on my Top 50 Songs of All Time list. With a tip of my cap to Eddie, Aaron Lewis sings it even better.

Classic Star Wars Art

Here's a cool online contest in which people place "Star Wars characters, items, vehicles and scenes into classic art works. Paintings, tapestries and sculptures are all allowed."

I'm very impressed by the skill demonstrated by some participants!



Obi Gogh by "rozdoodle"

Patriot Guard Riders

I think it's time to tell you about the Patriot Guard Riders (PGR).

Have you have seen a rag-tag motorcycle gang at a military funeral, bikes flying American flags and leading the procession, or maybe caught a story on the national CBS, ABC, or NBC television news, or heard about PGR on NPR or other radio networks? If so, it seems that you're a one of the few people who know about us.

I wrote this blog post a while back, but for numerous reasons decided not to publish it. I don't know why it's difficult for me to talk about this, but it is. Part of the reason is definitely that I don't want you to think I'm writing about being a member of the PGR because I want you to think my motivation as an ego boost, or that I think I'm "cool" because I ride a motorcycle. Nothing could be further from the truth. Another reason is that I intentionally stay away from religion and politics on my blog.

So why am I posting about it now? Good question. First let me tell you a bit about the Patriot Guard Riders.

While I would prefer to use my own words, I want this post to be as unbiased as possible. Hence, here's my very gently edited mission statement of the PGR:

Patriot Guard Riders Mission Statement

The Patriot Guard Riders is a diverse amalgamation of riders from across the nation. We have one thing in common besides motorcycles. We have an unwavering respect for those who risk their very lives for America’s freedom and security.

We don’t care what you ride or if you ride, what your political views are, or whether you’re a hawk or a dove. It is not a requirement that you be a veteran. It doesn't matter where you’re from or what your income is; you don’t even have to ride. The only prerequisite is Respect.

Our main mission is to attend the funeral services of fallen American heroes as invited guests of the family. Each mission we undertake has two basic objectives.

1. Show our sincere respect for our fallen heroes, their families, and their communities.

2. Shield the mourning family and their friends from interruptions created by any protester or group of protesters.

We accomplish the latter through strictly legal and non-violent means.

To those of you who are currently serving and fighting for the freedoms of others, at home and abroad, please know that we are backing you. We honor and support you with every mission we carry out, and we are praying for a safe return home for all.

What does all that mean? It means that the families of deceased veterans or law enforcement officials invite the PGR to be present during their time of grief. A typical ride (called a "mission" within the PGR) is that we gather at a pre-determined location near the funeral / wake / burial site. The PGR motorcyclists then affix flag poles and 3 x 5 or 4 x 6 flags to the poles and ride to the ceremony before it begins.

If it's a wake or funeral, we detach the flag poles from our bikes and form an honor guard, through which the family and guests pass between as they enter and exit. I've been on missions for which we stand at attention for hours. For others it's only a half hour or so as people file from a funeral home or place of worship.

We usually then re-mount the flag poles onto our motorcycles and lead the procession to the cemetery. At the behest of the family, and taking orders either from the funeral director or the CAO (Casualty Assistance Officer), we surround the gravesite with flags in hand.


Members of the PGR almost never utter a word to anybody. We're not there to make a political statement. We're not there to provide "security" or control traffic. We're certainly not there to have a good time nor gain publicity. We are there simply as civilians, some of whom have worn the uniform in service of our country and some of whom simply want to DO something more than slapping a $1 yellow ribbon banner onto the back of our car. I am of the latter category.

My decision to publish this post mainly boils down to three reasons.

First, I've been on enough (too many) missions now to truly understand that the PGR is all I hoped it would be. It sounded too good -- too altruistic. My fears were spectacularly unfounded.

Secondly, I hope that somebody who has a family member that is a veteran from WWII or Korea (or anywhere in between or beyond) will learn that we're there for them. It's truly awesome to see that when a mere handful of people attend a funeral (often very elderly), they gain comfort as they pass through a column of dozens of flags held aloft by Patriot Guard Riders. Whether they served last week or last century, the PGR will be there in numbers to show appreciation of their service to the country. The families without exception must invite the PGR to attend, and I was somehow surprised to learn that nearly all veterans' families do.

Thirdly, and most importantly, a few weeks ago I was touched deeply by an experience I will never forget. I know that this sounds ... Hollywoodish ... but the thought of downplaying the power of the situation or "underdescribing" it would be dishonest and disrepectful. The widow of a soldier killed by an IED in Bagdad approached me with tears running down her cheeks, three-year-old son in tow. There I was, holding my flag and looking straight ahead. I was doing my best (poorly) to appear impassive. She opened her arms to hug me. I did what was instinctual, and right. I hugged her back, flag still in my hand. What else could I have done?

She said "thank you for being here for him." Not knowing what else to say, and myself choked up, I muttered "It is my honor."

I'm a Patriot Guard Rider. It is my privilege to be so.


My motorcycle Val with her flag flying high.


If you wish to learn more:
Wiki
NBC News
ABC News
National Public Radio (NPR)
A Long PGR Line of Honor (I can't make it through this one)
Summarizes why I ride with the PGR (can't make it through this one either)




[I will not publish any pictures taken at events at which I've been present. Thanks to the person that forwarded the pictures of another mission, in another state. You know who you are.]

Finally, a Creative Manny Article

I've read dozens of articles about Manny being traded to the Dodgers, and watched hours of television coverage. They melded into a cacophony of shrieking and puzzlement. They might have well all said exactly the same thing.

Today I found one viewpoint that was different. It's irreverent, humorous, and if you can get past the sarcasm, it summarizes what's on the minds of Red Sox fans today. And Theo.

Great work, Kevin Hench of FOXSports.com --

Imagine how the final, frantic conference call between the Dodgers, Pirates and Red Sox went down on Thursday.

Theo Epstein: So are we good?

Ned Colletti: Uh, I dunno, I'm not sure we can shell out for all of Manny's prorated salary.

Epstein: Okay. We'll eat it.

Colletti: How much?

Epstein: The whole thing.

Colletti: That's workable.

Epstein: Neal?

Neal Huntington: We don't want to throw in Grabow.

Epstein: No problem.

Huntington: But you'll still send us Brandon Moss and Craig Hansen?

Epstein: Yep.

Colletti: So, uh, just so we're clear, you're giving up Manny, seven mil cash, an outfield prospect who hit .291 in 103 big league at bats and a 24-year-old who throws 97.

Huntington: And of course the two compensatory picks you'd have gotten had you kept Manny.

Epstein: Uh, yeah.

Colletti: You know I could use a new Range Rover.

Epstein: Done.

Huntington: Man, you must be majorly motivated to get rid of that guy.

Epstein. No, no, we just really, really love Jason Bay. Had our eye on him ever since he hit .247 with a .745 OPS last year.

Fucking brilliant. Yes, I said it. Brilliant.

Just Be a Kid for a Few Minutes

Big Buck Bunny from Blender Foundation on Vimeo.

Godspeed and Thanks, Randy

I don't have much to say other than Randy's lecture touched me, along with millions and millions of others. You can see my post about him and view his lecture here.

Associated Press / July 26, 2008 -- PITTSBURGH -- Randy Pausch, the Carnegie Mellon University computer scientist whose "last lecture" about facing terminal cancer became an Internet sensation and a best-selling book, died yesterday. He was 47.

Sonny Come Home

I'm not a cat person. I'm a dog person. Lindsay is my constant companion, and although it may perhaps sound ... silly? ... we have a fantastic relationship.

I've had lots of cats during my lifetime. Lots and lots of cats. There has been Celtic, Henrietta, Nike, BC, Minnow, Epitome, Shadow, Otis, Bailey, and at least a dozen or two unnamed barn cats. Maybe it's because of the sheer number of them, but none are particularly special to me. There have been a couple with distinctive personalities, but none like Sonny.

Yes, this is a eulogy of sorts for Sonny. I'm not even sure if he's gone to the big litter box in the sky, but he hasn't been home for weeks. It's possible he's sauntered into another house with children and just decided to shed somewhere else.


Sonny was a remarkable cat for one specific reason. He was the most tolerant, patient, affectionate cat I've ever known. Ever. I have even sent him on a diplomatic mission of sorts, when a family considering adding a cat to the household needed to take a test drive. A test cat . . . a stunt cat . . . a cat consultant was required, and Sonny had a grand time on vacation.

My hardened heart isn't so concrete that I won't miss him nor wish he'll show up again one day. Most difficult for me was when my daughter Nicole came home after time away with my wife in NH. One of the very first things she said to me was "I can't wait to see Sonny!"


Ugh.

So far there has been little more mention of Sonny. What Nicole may or may not remember as she grows up is that Sonny allowed her to pick him up ... by any available limb or patch of skin ... and carry him around with her. He never bit nor scratched, just faced his duty with an admirable sense of duty and perhaps stoicism. He was a floppy and furry purring machine. Moreover, he actually followed Nicole around the house and the yard. When Nicole sat down or fell asleep, Sonny would simply plop himself down with her and go to sleep too.


To Sonny! Raise a can of Friskies to him! Just don't actually consume it because, well, the smell alone would make a billy goat gag.

New Jib Jab Political Spoof

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Val's New Pinup Tank Art

Well, I finally did it. I've wanted to put a particular WWII era pinup image on Val's gas tank ever since I first met her. For those readers who are new to this blog, "Val" is my 1999 1580cc F6 Honda Valkyrie motorcycle.

The first step was to remove the Valkyrie badge (the chrome nameplate affixed to a motorcycle's gas tank). To be honest, I feared that this step was going to be the most expensive and difficult one. Due to simple ignorance, I thought it would require delivering Val to a custom chopper shop, where her tank would have to be removed and pop rivets sanded from the inside of the tank. How wrong I was. I did it myself in no time at all -- and I'm a moron when it comes to all things mechanical. Had I known how amazingly easy and effective the procedure was, I would have launched this project years ago. If you're interested in debadging your bike, I posted about it here.

While I was pleased with Val's plain black tank, there was now an empty canvas waiting for the pinup artwork. Once again, ignorance and doubt caused a long delay.

I should have kept track of how many companies I contacted about the project, but I can assure you it was dozens and dozens. Custom paint shops told me the costs would run into the $800 - $1,500 range, and I'd be without Val for up to three weeks. Even more discouraging was that nobody could promise me that the art would look like the piece I had selected. It's like a tattoo ... you have to know the capabilities of the artist, fork over a lot of money, and hope for the best. For better or for worse, once it's done, it's done.

My only other option was to find a company that could make a high-quality reproduction of the image onto a digital vinyl decal. Also, that decal would have to be suitable durability for application to a motorcycle tank. Finally, the largest digital version of the artwork I could find was very small (but I admit the task of searching through hundreds of pinup images wasn't exactly an unenjoyable one). There was no way I was going to have a distorted and pixelated image stuck onto Val. I found plenty of other artwork that was okay, but it wasn't "the one." I wanted the right image, I wanted it done cheaply, I wanted it to look like it had been painted directly onto the tank, and I wanted it to be durable. Oh, and just one little additional detail. I want the same image duplicated in mirror form, so that she's on both sides of my tank.

You are well within the bounds of reason to say I was being picky, but this isn't just any motorcycle. It's Val. You'd understand if you knew her. She's my girl.

I looked on eBay and Google for days, putting in keywords such as decal; motorcycle graphics; custom motorcycle decal; sticker; vinyl graphics; ad nauseum. Of the dozens of companies I contacted and described the project, none would take it. Well, that's not exactly true. Many responded with quotes of hundreds of dollars, others said they would do it but it would horrible and pixelated, but most just said they wouldn't take the challenge.

Just as I was about to throw in the towel and decide it wasn't meant to be, I gave it one final shot. While I'd been wasting my time e-mailing every decal maker across the globe, there turned out to be a print shop right down the road that took the project on with enthusiasm. If you're looking to add custom artwork to your motorcycle, contact the folks at Blazing Signworks. I honestly think this could turn out to be a healthy line of business for them to pursue.

I'll spare you the details, but the sheer oddity of my request was accepted by the guys on the print floor as a challenge. I think they were almost as excited about testing their skill and creativity as I was to see the final result. My total cost? Fifty bucks. Yep. Fifty bucks.

Without further ado, here is a picture of Val with her gorgeous new artwork. I'm sorry the quality of the picture isn't great. I'll take a new one and replace it soon. I can tell you that during a gathering of a thousand motorcycles last weekend, lots of people turned their heads, smiled, pointed, and muttered superlatives like wow, awesome, cool . . .

Bad SPAM

Some SPAM is fairly creative, and some is downright ingenious with the clear effort invested in using bank logos and such. On the other hand, some SPAM is just laughable. I present for your enjoyment one of the worst examples I've seen in years. And that's really saying something.

Oh, and as an afterthought, who the hell would be so gullible as to respond to this? Fascinating. And kind of sad. The second paragraph made me laugh so hard that I shot ginger ale out of my nose.

"My late father happens to be in control of a large number of farms including cattle's and many sheep before he was poisoned by his foreign business partners in Paris with my mother in one of their farmers association meeting because of greed."

A run-on sentence of truly baffling and epic proportions. I wish I had "cattle's and many sheep!" Oh, life would be so sweet!

From: saadsanusi2008xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: GENUINE ASSISTANCE NEEDED
Date: July 9, 2008 3:46:44 PM EDT
To: undisclosed-recipients:;
Reply-To: saad2008xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

GENUINE ASSISTANCE NEEDED CAN YOU HELP US INVEST OUR LATE FATHER FUND?????

Dearest Beloved,

Please kindly go through this letter before you pass judgment because I am in need of assistance. I am Mr.Saad Sanusi the son of late Dr. Alahaji Bugora Sanusi from Liberia. I must confess my agitation is real, and my words is my bond, in this proposal.

My late father happens to be in control of a large number of farms including cattle's and many sheep before he was poisoned by his foreign business partners in Paris with my mother in one of their farmers association meeting because of greed.

But before his death my late father deposited some amount of money outside our country in bank at the tone of Four Million Eight Hundred United States Dollars $4,8 Millon. So I and my little sister are no longer safe here as the present government of Liberia are working with almost all the killers of my late father as one of them has been just be made a minister, name undisclosed because of security reasons.

Furthermore we have contacted the bank where the money is deposited and the bankers let us understand that they signed an agreement with our late father that the total money must be transferred into his foreign business partner account undisclosed to them and that is the major reason why i am contacting you now for assistance.

All I needed from you now is your full names and address including your direct and personal telephone number for easy communication as you know that this transaction is a very confidential one.

Please Kindly get back to me immediately after you must have gone through my message fill free and make it urgent. That is the reason why I offered you 15 % of the total money amount, and in case of any other necessary expenses you might incur during this transaction.

N.B Try and negotiate for me some profitable blue chip investment opportunities which is risky free which I can invest with this money when it is transferred from the bank here, personally I am interested in estate management and hotel business, please advise me.

For more explanation write me through my alternative e-mail address (saad2008@xxxxxxxxx) or my private tel phone number +22505xxxxxxxxxx

And promise me and my younger sister to be a good guardian considering our situation and not to betray us.

Thanks and God bless you and your family.

Best regards

Mr.Saad Sanusi

Parade Pictures

See my Tabblo>

What a Great 4th of July

Happy 4th of July! I hope you all had a fun-filled and safe holiday weekend.

Excellence in Photographic Journalism

A picture may be worth 1,000 words. Excellent photographs which illustrate events and places across the world should be worth at least ten times as many.

I recommend you add a bookmark to the Boston Globe's regular online feature The Big Picture. Updated frequently, the Globe posts between ten to twenty captioned full-screen high resolution photographs on a theme or story. It's quickly become a daily must-view site for me.

Sox on Fox

[Blogging from the road . . . my buddy Jeff's house]

I usually hate it when Fox broadcasts Red Sox games. But today's broadcast is pretty good. The main reason is that those two uber-annoying buffoons, Joe Buck and Tim McCarver, aren't the hosts. It's Jerry Remy and whomever the usual play-by-play broadcaster for the Reds happens to be. It's cool. Neither are being biased in their comments, and both have clearly done their homework about each teams' strengths and weaknesses.

One funny thing about Fox's coverage is the radar gun. Either the operator has been drinking, or it's broken. Volquez's fastball was clocked at 56 MPH, even though it clearly was touching the high 80s or low 90s. Better yet, Wakefield's knuckleball was just clocked at 100 MPH.

A Perfect Set!

Look . . . I am fully aware that this is a stupid post, but after all this is my blog. Once in a great, great while I'll get the perfect triumvirate of Pop-Ice flavors. Orange, purple, and blue. You're welcome to have all the green, red, and pink ones from the box.

I have a serious Pop-Ice addiction. I need help. Is there a 12-step program available? I go through a 100-count box every week.

Okay. I am officially creeped out.

I'm too creeped out by the pencil's face to say anything. Words fail me.

Walk of Shame

This morning I was forced to take the Walk of Shame. No, not that kind of Walk of Shame. I did the motorcyclist's Walk of Shame.

As my son can attest, this morning as we were on the way to drop him off at school, I said "wow, I can't believe I haven't had to put gas into Val for so long. It's weird."

Yep. That kind of Walk of Shame. On the ride back home, Val began to sputter. I smugly reminded myself to tell Joey that Val hit the reserve tank only 45 minutes after I made that foreboding comment.

I reached down with my left hand to switch from the main tank to the reserve . . . wait a second, why it the fuel selector pointing UP? Oh f*ck ... that means I'm already sucking down the last few drops in the reserve tank ... I had broken the cardinal rule of riding a motorcycle. Always check the position of the fuel selector before starting the engine. Every single time. I've never made this mistake before today, and I'll never make it again.

So began my walk of shame. Thanks to that guy (whose name I am sorry to say I cannot recall) in the tan Chevy Cavalier for pulling over on the exit ramp to Devens, and thanks to Paul for the ride back. They are two good Samaritans who were kind enough to pick up a stranger wearing a leather jacket, carrying a helmet in one hand and a gas can in the other.

Another Reason to Love Boston

This story is all over the media today. A quarter of the adults in New York "are infected with the virus that causes genital herpes." I bet that Jeter is the cause for more than half of them. He at least gave it Joba for sure.

I Love Cathy

I love Cathy for a lot of reasons. First, she's one of the funniest people I've ever met. Secondly, she's one of the funniest people I've ever met. I'm sorry, did I repeat myself? Well, she's funny enough to deserve the top two rankings. Thirdly, I love her husband Paul. Her kids are nice too, but, yeah. Lastly, she's always been my "emergency backup mom." Don't you have one too?

Today I especially love Cathy for giving me (and my son Donnie, but let's face it, it's all about me) a dulcimer. Have you ever heard a dulcimer? Aerosmith is the only major band of which I'm aware to use a dulcimer on an album. Here ... listen to this.

Click the "play" button below the image, not in the middle of the album cover.

Meet Val's Sister Megan!

I know, I know . . . I've been posting an awful lot about my motorcycle Val lately. Well, *shrug* too bad. I'm so excited that I could spit. I've never fully understood that saying. Why would one feel the urge to spit when excited? I digress.

On the way to my sister's house this afternoon to pick up some paperwork, I happened to glance into a parking lot as I drove by at 45 MPH. What I saw made me fully turn my head (a big "no no" on a motorcycle), then slam on both the front and rear brakes.

I saw, for the first time ever in real life, another Valkyrie.

Me being who I am (just a bit north of outgoing), I marched into each store in the strip mall until I saw somebody carrying a helmet.

Paul is my new buddy. He had a hard time finding a Valkyrie, just as I did, but eventually landed Megan (his Valkyrie's name ... much more original than "Val"). She was an insurance write-off, and had been declared legally dead after being laid down at about 60 MPH. Her tank didn't match her VIN (plus it's obviously a 2001 tank on a 2002 Valkyrie), her light bar still shows some road rash, and the radiator hose isn't stock.

But Megan is beeeeeeeeeautiful. Paul put on a chrome radiator grill cover, chrome oil dipstick, nice highway pegs, and a few other nifty add-ons. The biggest difference between Val and Megan is that Megan doesn't have a windshield. She's looks abso-frickin'-lutely gorgeous.

However, just like women, you can't judge a book by it's cover. Although Megan looks like a fox, I would never take off Val's windshield. Do you know how much it hurts to get hit in the forehead by a piece of gravel or a junebug at 80 MPH? Not pleasant. Plus, Megan has the California Emissions package, meaning a carbon scrubber which takes away about 5 - 8 horsepower. But c'mon, big whoop. Megan could still gallop with Val at 140 MPH if they wanted to do so.

*sigh* There are so many things I want to buy for Val to make her prettier.

Everything I Need

Sunglasses, a beer, and my dog. That's all I need!

And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.

--- Steve Martin, "The Jerk"

Proud Papa

My eldest son graduated from high school last night. For you, readers of this blog, I had a very long post in mind which discussed how it felt seeing my first born child walk across the same football field, wear the same blue robe, and look up into the same bleachers to search for some of the same members of our family who were there for me so many years ago. I wanted to write at length about milestones we pass along the road in our lives, how I'm now entering into a new phase of parenthood, and a bunch of interesting family dynamics which will now be different.

But instead of making this about me, this is really about him. His experiences are not mine. That's perhaps the most jarring realization. After the ceremony, when I finally found him amid the sea of graduates and well wishers, we shared a long and tight hug. I said into his ear "I love you, and I'm very proud of you."

He kept squeezing, and replied simply but with emphasis "thanks, Dad." That made every challenge I've faced in the last eighteen years worth it.

I'm one proud papa.

Is Bono Evil?

Weezer Out-Memes South Park

I loved the South Park skit which featured numerous Internet memes. Weezer took it up a notch in the video for "Pork and Beans."

How the heck did they find the real people? Is there a secret Internet clubhouse where they all socialize?

So Many Miles, So Few Days

For the last few days I've done pretty much nothing else other than riding Val. Goodness gracious, it's wonderful to ride. Do you have a motorcycle? If not, get one. Seriously. You'll thank me. I guarantee it.

After putting another few hundred miles on Val yesterday I stopped by my cousin Rick's house. He's a mechanic and a veteran ... although those two facts have nothing to do with one another, but they both made me think of him as I was kinda near his house on Memorial Day.

Rick pierced Val's baffles. Yep. She's no longer a virgin. It turned out better than expected. Her mid-range powerband sounds deeper, more throaty, and without any appreciable increase in decibels.

Here's how she sounds now (click on the "play" button at the bottom of the movie, not in the center of the image):

Maybe I'll pick up a Glasspack and ask Paul to weld it in. But that's a big scary step. Once I do it, there's no going back. I don't think I'd need to re-jet the carburetors (there are six of them), but I'd be screwed if I do. I know nearly nothing about mechanical things.

"Debadging" Val

I can't tell you how many people will ask me "what the heck kind of a bike is that?" I've never understood why people didn't just look at the huge "Valkyrie" tank badge, but I'm always pleased as punch to talk about my F6.

Today I made it more difficult for the curious folks who are unaccustomed to seeing a six-cylinder motorcycle. I debadged her (removed the nameplate emblem).

I have to be honest with you. I usually screw up things like this, often making it a complete disaster. The project made me a bit apprehensive, but it sounded so simple that I was willing to risk it.

Here were the instructions I found on the web, verbatim, on how to remove a motorcycle badge: "Heat it with a hair dryer. Use floss or fishing line to separate the emblem from the tank with a sawing motion. Clean the residual adhesive with a solvent."

Who knew that badges are only kept in place with industrial-grade adhesive? The only reason I haven't debadged Val before now is that I feared a sizable bill from a bike customizer to sand off a pop weld and touch up the paint on my tank.

From start to finish the whole process took me a half hour. Click on a picture for a larger version.

The required tools. Beer is optional.

First I turned on the hair dryer and hung it upside down by the cord from my handlebar, leaving the hot air blowing on the badge for about ten minutes. Then I began to saw beneath the badge with floss.

The floss kept breaking, so I dug through my fishing tackle.

This turned out to work much better, and the heated adhesive was no match for the line.

Presto!

Removing the residual adhesive turned out to be the most difficult part of the project.

I recommend using more Goo Gone than you think will be necessary. Good. Now use even more.

The final result looks great!

Now I need to save up $500 to have my tank painted with this . . .