Category: Pointless blather

  • Some Days A Song Just . . . Fits

    There are days when the world wears on you. Days when you feel kinda like you’re Atlas holding up the world.

    And on such days, this one just . . . fits.  Like few others I’ve ever heard.



    “I pulled in to Nazarath, was feeling ’bout half-past dead . . . . “

    Yeah, I think we’ve all been there. Probably more than once.

    . . .

    A Canadian – Robbie Robertson – wrote the song. But it was based largely on the experiences of one of his musical collaborators, Levon Helm, while growing up in the US South.

    In case you’re wondering: yes, Carmen, Anna Lee, and Crazy Chester were all based on real people. Helm knew them all growing up in Arkansas.

    And if there was ever a more distinct voice in popular music than Levon Helms, I’ll be damned if I know who that would be.  Hell, even Rod Stewart had a near clone (Bonnie Tyler).  As far as I can tell, Helm was unique.  I can’t think of anyone who sounds remotely like him.

    If you’ve never heard them, two live versions of the tune are IMO also worth a listen. This version is from The Band’s farewell concert and film, The Last Waltz; this version is an outtake that didn’t make it into the film.

    If you’re interested, YouTube has a fascinating documentary on The Band.  It’s about 1hr 15 min long; IMO it’s eminently worth the time.  YMMV.

    I’ll return the site to it’s normal programming now.  (smile)

     

  • Yer Friday Funny: An Open Letter to Urinal Operators Everywhere

    Men’s public restrooms have urinals. The reason should be obvious. But in case anyone can’t figure it out: it’s kinda due to differences in physical configuration between men and women.

    However, it seems some of the male gender have “issues” operating those relatively simple devices. Most men are already doing fine. But there are some out there that seem to need some additional guidance.

    Guys, this is for you. Read and, if appropriate, heed.

    . . .

    Urinals are a fact of male life. But some oblivions* out there appear not to “get it” with respect to their operation, and make things unpleasant for the rest.

    So, for the benefit of all, here are a few “rules of the road” for urinal operation.  Take note, and follow them.

    1. Watch your freaking aim. Most urinals are not floor-length console models. Aim accordingly.

    A drip or two on the floor is on occasion unavoidable; ditto occasional splatter. Puddles, however, are bullsh!t and are unnecessary.

    If you want to stand in a puddle while you take a whizz, go outside when it’s freaking raining. Otherwise, hit the freaking target. Hell, you’re shooting point-blank and have no excuse for missing.

    (Don’t laugh, ladies. You’re shooting point-blank too – from even shorter range. And I’ve seen evidence that leads me to believe not all ladies have perfect aim, either.)

    2. Pay attention to the business at hand (literally). Read the graffiti above the urinal after you’re done, not while taking care of business. While most can multitask, a few can’t aim while reading.

    3. Toothpicks in the urinal are a bad idea. Some crabs have learned how to pole vault. Don’t give them the opportunity.

    4. Similarly, cigarette butts don’t help either. The filters do nothing to filter out the smell. And the tobacco helps clog the damn things.

    Besides, cigarette butts take forever to disintegrate. And enough of them will clog the drain, too.

    5. TP has no business in the urinal. Don’t. Ditto coins, pens, combs, or anything else that’s not p!ss. (I guess spitting is OK if necessary.)

    6. Speaking of clogs: if the freaking thing shows signs of being backed up – don’t freaking use it, and don’t freaking flush it either. Why? See #1 above regarding puddles. Instead, use another urinal – or the toilet.

    7. Unless it’s broken or clogged, flush the damn thing when you’re done. Your p!ss doesn’t smell like lavender, Chanel, Old Spice, or Axe body wash, fella. It freaking stinks like p!ss. Flush afterwards.

    And don’t give me that “I don’t want to touch the handle because other people have touched it after they touched themselves” bullsh!t, either. That’s why there’s a sink, soap, and paper towels in the damn bathroom.

    And if there’s a problem, call maintenance to let them know. Don’t wait for someone else to do that.

    8. Don’t even think about “dropping a deuce” in the urinal. Not even as a joke. Not funny.

    9. Wash your hands afterwards. Others have to use the freaking bathroom doorknob/push plate, too. Besides, I might end up shaking hands with you later today.

    10. Dry your hands afterwards. Even if it’s clean water, no one wants to mess with a wet door.

    And hit the freaking trash can with your paper towels. They don’t improve traction in the bathroom when they’re lying on the floor.

     

    Rant over.

    . . .

    *oblivion – a clueless tool of either gender who generally wanders around oblivious to the world around them

  • Sometimes “Joe” Puts One Over On Leadership . . . for a While

    In any large organization, there will always be a few malcontents. In that respect, the military services are no different from any other organization.

    Now during the days of the draft, I could understand why some would have a bad attitude towards the Army – even if I couldn’t agree with it. Hell, I’m not completely sure it’s coincidence that “drafted” and “shafted” rhyme. (smile)

    However, by the mid-1970s or so, that justification – as meager as it was – for having a bad attitude was gone. By then, virtually anyone serving was a volunteer (I think we still had a draft for selected healthcare professionals, but that was it). Everyone serving then had either raised their hand voluntarily when they first signed up – or they’d stayed on voluntarily after their draftee term of service had ended. So by that point in time, well, malcontents were just that:  malcontents.

    As malcontents do everywhere, sometimes in the Army they’d try to “get even” with “the man” – e.g., their chain-of-command. Usually, that didn’t work out so well. Whenever “Joe” made such an attempt, “Joe” generally forgot two key points:

    1. (Stuff) flows downhill; and
    2. Joe lives at the bottom of the hill.

    However, every once in a while Joe managed to pull a good one. And I’m about to relate one such, as told to me by an acquaintance about 30 years ago.

    Standard disclaimer: I didn’t see this firsthand; it’s a second-hand story. But the source claimed to have firsthand knowledge, and it’s an individual I trust. So I believe what follows to be the truth; any errors in relating it are mine.

    Here’s what happened one day . . . .

    . . .

    Place: Germany
    Time: between late 1977 and late 1982 (other clues say it was probably in 1980 or 1981)
    Unit: an Army combat support unit of company size
    Scene: a field site during an exercise
    Background, for non-Army types:

    1. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the Army’s primary focus was Europe (remember, this was during the height of the Cold War).
    2. While most Army combat units (infantry, artillery, armor, air defense) in Europe at the time (and in the Army in general) had tracked vehicles, many of the support units primarily used wheeled vehicles. And even in combat divisions, many of the support vehicles were wheeled vehicles.
    3. Combat support units often had electronic equipment. Putting this equipment in tents after setting up an operating location usually didn’t work out so well. So many units had shelterized configurations for that electronic equipment. These shelters were big metal boxes – formally called S-250 shelters and S-280 shelters – mounted on the back of 1 1/4 ton or 2 1/2 ton trucks; their purpose was to provide some degree of environmental protection for the equipment. They were actually quite mobile; it was really amazing where a good driver could get one of those things.
    4. Some equipment configurations required multiple shelters – pairs or triples – that were deployed together to perform the mission.
    5. The shelters (and their vehicles) were painted in woodland camouflage pattern. In 1980 or 1981, the Army changed that pattern – I think they went from a 3-color pattern to a 4-color pattern, but that memory is 30+ years old now and I might have it backwards – and all vehicles had to be repainted with the new pattern.
    6. When these units deployed their equipment, they also set up camouflage netting over that equipment. This was a lightweight net with embedded plastic/fabric strips woven into it in woodland colors, and with small metal rings (for radar dispersion) as well. Its purpose was to break up shapes and obscure the equipment, thus giving some degree of protection against observation from a distance or from the air. It came with poles and spreader assemblies so that it could be suspended off the vehicles in an irregular, hopefully somewhat tree- or hill-like, shape. When properly emplaced, it was reasonably effective.
    7. Units didn’t stay in one place for the duration when they went to the field. They moved periodically (called “jumping”) – because they were expected to have to do that a lot if the “balloon went up” in Europe. To do that, they tore everything down, packed up all their stuff (hopefully), moved, set up their equipment, nets, etc . . . , and resumed their mission.
    8. Although this was well after Vietnam, there were quite a number of Vietnam veterans still in the force. Many Vietnam-era terms and acronyms were still in common use. One such Vietnam-era 3-letter acronym in particular was a favorite of Army malcontents – and was absolutely detested by senior leadership. Let’s just say it does not stand for “Fun, Travel, Adventure”. (smile)

    Now, back to the story . . . .

    An Army Brigade Commander of a combat support brigade was flying, performing an aerial inspection/visit of his units during a field exercise. O6-level commanders could sometimes wrangle a bird for part/all of a day to do so in those days.

    He lands near one of his units. The Company Commander of that unit is at the site.

    The Brigade Commander is not a happy camper. He finds the Company Commander and verbally rips into him, tearing him a new one.

    The Company Commander doesn’t seem to understand why he’s getting reamed. Finally, the Brigade Commander tells the company commander, “You really don’t know, Captain? Hell, get in the bird and I’ll show you.” (Or words to that effect.)

    They got in the bird, and took off. They overflew the site.

    The Brigade Commander pointed out to the Captain one spot where a group of the unit’s vehicles were clustered together.

    This particular group was 3 vehicles with shelters that were typically deployed together. They normally were backed into a “T” formation, with a platform laid between the tailgates, for normal operations. I’m pretty sure these were the larger shelters, the S-280s; those were normally the ones used for multiple-shelter configurations. So the roofs of those shelters were pretty big – about 12ft by 7ft each.

    The vehicles had been parked in their normal “T” formation. But the camouflage netting wasn’t yet up, so you could see the roofs of the shelters – which you can’t see from the ground, and can’t see too clearly when standing on the hood. And there’s often no place in a unit motor pool parking lot high enough to get a clear view of the shelter roofs, either – unless you want to climb a light pole.

    Apparently some “enterprising lads” had taken a few liberties with the camouflage pattern on the roofs of those shelters – most likely during that 1980 or 1981 mandatory repainting. Because on those roofs, there it was – clear as day.

    “Fun, Travel, Adventure.”  Abbreviated to one letter per word, of course. In big honking letters 5 or more feet high.

    They landed. A very sheepish and chagrined Company Commander got off the bird.

    As I recall the story, the Company Commander didn’t get relieved. He actually ended up having a successful tour in command.

    But he did get the roofs of those shelters repainted again posthaste. (smile)

  • How to Fix the Problem of Stolen Valor at VSOs

    This article is a bit long. And it’s probably going to p!ss off a few folks.

    However, I don’t much care if it does. I’m fed up with a particular problem, and I’m going to vent.

    And I’m also going to identify a way to fix the problem.

    Introduction: Stolen Valor (and More) at VSOs

    I don’t think that anyone would dispute the fact that there is a serious problem in Veterans Service Organizations (VSOs). If anyone doubts this I invite them to take a look at this short list of “stellar individuals” – which only scratches the surface of this type of sh!tbaggery:

    All were frauds in one respect or another. Many claimed honors they simply didn’t rate or experience/service they simply didn’t have. Some didn’t qualify for VSO membership at all. At least two of them turned out to be thieves of more than valor – one stole from fellow vets, while the other apparently stole from his own family.

    (Note: I’m not singling out VFW or the American Legion here. I’m certain there are sh!tbags in other VSOs who are just as fraudulent as the above Nasty Nine. But as far as I can tell, we haven’t busted any of those here at TAH.)

    As I said:  this list only scratches the surface. And don’t even get me started about the fakes we’ve seen in Motorcycle Clubs or other organizations.

    The common factor for all of these walking anal orifices? Besides the fact that they’re all sh!tbags of the first order, they managed to join their VSO and/or make their claims because either (1) they were never asked to provide proof, or (2) they provided fake docs. Except in the case of Boyer, I rather doubt their local post/chapter members knew they were “rockin’ the lie” and gave them a pass. And as longtime TAH readers know, Boyer’s case is somewhat different from most. (smile)

    In short, the situation is SNAFU – but not FUBAR.  What I’m going to do is tell our VSOs (and any other organization that needs to verify military service) how they can un-f**k the current situation and fix the problem. The solution is simple, affordable, and is implementable within two to three years.

    It can happen. But it won’t happen unless the VSO membership at large demands it.

    The Source of the Problem

    The source of the problem, IMO, is simple: the VSOs trust applicants. They accept documentation provided by applicants as Gospel truth, without any form of independent verification.

    Years ago, that worked. First, there really was no choice. Independent verification really wasn’t possible right after World War II or the Korean War. And even during Vietnam, the process wasn’t all that readily available or well-known.

    Moreover, fake documents were easier to spot. Photocopiers were just not that common until after Vietnam, nor were they as good as they are today. Also, the documentation issued as proof of having served in the military (the DD 214) was until fairly recently produced on multipart forms. More people had served, so there were many who knew what “right looked like”.

    The situation today is different. DD 214s are printed on plain paper, on a laser printer. They no longer have physical signatures. And there are reputedly numerous ways to produce or acquire fake documents.

    In short:  accepting documents today directly from an applicant is now a crapshoot. A knowledgeable faker can produce or acquire passable fake docs – legality be damned. And at the same time, because fewer serve today fewer folks are around who know what “right looks like” when it comes to military separation documents.

    A Possible Fix

    The fix is simple. VSOs must quit freaking accepting documentation provided directly by individuals as documentation of eligibility – now. It’s simply too easy for unscrupulous individuals to fabricate or otherwise acquire passable fake documents regarding service, awards, qualifications, and the like.

    This brings up a legitimate question: how in the world will VSOs verify eligibility for membership?

    Fair question. However, there’s a simple way to do that. Require the documents proving eligibility to be sent directly to the VSO post/chapter from official sources. That greatly reduces the opportunity for fraud.

    How to Verify – With Trust

    Here’s the procedure a VSO would need to use to accomplish the above.

    Step 1: at your next National Convention, adopt changes to your constitution requiring the following:

    a. All members must provide proof of eligibility for membership.

    b. Documents verifying membership eligibility will not be accepted directly from individuals. They must be received from official sources.

    c. Membership shall be provisional until such time as documentation is received from official sources verifying the applicant’s eligibility.

    d. Items a-c above apply to current members as well. Current members shall be retained as full members until such time as their proof of eligibility is received from official sources. On receipt, it will be reviewed. If they are found to be ineligible, their membership shall be immediately revoked.

    e. All membership revocations will be immediately reported to the VSOs national headquarters.

    f. Items a-c will be implemented immediately. Items d. and e. shall be completed within two years.

    g. Any posts/chapters not complying with a-f shall have their post/chapter charter revoked.

    Step 2: Implement the following at post/chapter level.

    a. Require all current members to sign a SF180 allowing release of unredacted copies of all their DD 214s and DD 215s (or, for World War II veterans, the equivalent documents) to the VSO post/chapter. (The unredacted documents are required to guard against the possibility of error due to a name collision and for those VSOs requiring service characterized as honorable.)  For those currently still serving, require a memo from their military personnel office verifying eligibility to be sent directly to the VSO.

    b. Require the same of new applicants.

    c. Establish a suspense tracking file for both current members and new applicants.

    d. New applicants applying are provisional members until such time as their proof of eligibility is received from official sources.

    e. Existing members are retained if documentation received shows they are eligible. If it does not, they are dismissed from the organization.

    Appropriate appeals and/or “reclama” processes will also need to be developed, as on rare occasion NPRC “screws the pooch”. But that’s frankly the easy part. Getting the above implemented is the “biggie”.

    Funding Verification

    Funding this initiative would be very simple. A records request – whether a FOIA or a limited authorized release – typically costs the sender less than a dollar. The cost is for a first-class stamp; an envelope; a sheet or two of paper; and the cost of printing that sheet or two of paper.

    There’s really little additional cost. The only ones I can possibly think of is the additional time needed to (1) mail the request, and (2) maintaining the suspense file for members in probationary status while they are awaiting a reply from NPRC.  And most if not all of that is unpaid volunteer time, since I’m relatively certain that most VSO post/chapter officers serve as volunteers.

    There is no additional cost with reviewing the documents received from official sources. The VSO would presumably do that anyway, whether the documents were received from the individual or via mail.

    On rare occasions, a follow-up request might need to be submitted. That would also be covered by the funding method I describe.

    Bottom line: for most posts, annual monetary costs for verification should be the cost of (1) a roll of stamps, (2) a box of 100 envelopes, (3) a ream of paper, and (4) some printer ink/toner. Let’s say $75 per year to be generous.

    Here’s how to fund the verification. There are two options.

    Option 1: raise the local post portion of the VSO post’s dues by $1 annually.  Put the extra $1 per member into a separate fund earmarked to fund verification activities. Any surplus above $75 at the end of the year would go to the post’s general fund.

    Option 2: create a separate fund for verification activities. Assess each applicant a $1 non-refundable fee to fund those verification activities. Any surplus above $75 at the end of the year would go to the post’s general fund.

    One-time verification of existing members would be funded by a special, one-time verification fee of $1, assessed to each member. The proceeds from this collection would go into the verification fund noted above. (This would IMO probably also give an “early warning” of who might be “dirty”, as I’m relatively certain they’ll be among those complaining loudly and publicly about having to cough up $1 for independent verification of their qualifications.)

    Possible Objections and Their Counters

    Obviously, this isn’t an exhaustive list.  But I think these will be the most common objections.  So I’ve presented them here, along with suggested (and in some cases, somewhat smartassed) answers for each.

    Objection 1: “What, don’t you trust me?”

    Answer (to new applicants): “We don’t know you from Adam (or Eve, depending on the applicant’s gender). Why the hell should we trust you, given the number of fakes out there?”

    Answer (to existing members): “Sadly, we can’t. We’ve found too many fakes, some of whom were in leadership positions and/or who scammed their posts/chapters. Sorry, but we need to do a one-time mass verification to root out fakers.”

    Objection 2: “That violates my privacy! You can’t ask me to do that – it’s against the law!”

    Answer: “Um, no it doesn’t, and it isn’t. Membership in (whatever VSO) is voluntary. The Privacy Act’s restrictions don’t in general apply to private organizations, anyway. Besides, this is no different than applying for a loan. Try doing that without answering their questions and see how far that gets you.”

    Objection 3: “This is a solution to a problem that doesn’t exist!” or “This isn’t necessary!”

    Answer: “Nice to meet you, Pollyanna. Now, welcome to the real world. Yeah, the problem exists and this is indeed necessary. See TAH for literally dozens of examples. Now, do you want to be a member or not?”

    Objection 4: “How do I know you’ll keep my info private?”

    Answer: “Well, you were willing to give us a copy of your DD 214 before, which contains the same info. The NPRC already has your info on file. Why are you objecting to asking for the same info from official sources that you were willing to give us yourself a few minutes ago?”

    Objection 5: “This is an outrage!”

    Answer: “So is Stolen Valor. Which you wanna be: part of the solution, or part of the problem?”

    Objection 6: “I’m calling my Congressman!”

    Answer: “Want his address and phone number? I kinda doubt he’s going on the record as favoring helping someone commit Stolen Valor. But maybe I’m wrong. Knock yourself out.”

    Conclusion

    The above isn’t perfect; it will doubtless need a few tweaks.  As I noted above, some kind of appeals process will almost certainly be necessary, if for not other reason than to account for potential government error.  And a second similar piece will be needed for VSOs (like DAV) that require proof of disability – though a simple letter from the individual requesting the standard VA disability letter be mailed directly to the VSO requiring same should be all that’s required in such cases.

    But there’s also no doubt in my mind that this – with possibly a few mods – will work. And while it won’t completely fix the problem, it will reduce it by multiple orders of magnitude.

    But I’m still not holding my breath.

    Why? Because as the old saying goes – “Money talks; BS walks”. And maybe I’m just getting old and cynical, but I doubt any of the VSOs want to chance seeing a big chunk of their membership walk.

    Because if that chunk walks, not only does their BS walk. So does their dues money.

    . . .

    OK, I’m getting down off the soapbox now. Fire away!

  • Yer Weekend Funny: Bingo! There Goes Your Tenure!

    I ran across a little gem today that had escaped me today.  It’s by a true American original, the late Frank Zappa.

    Zappa was a complex guy – fiscally conservative, huge backer of free enterprise, believed in limited government.  Yet he famously clashed with conservatives in the Reagan administration, finding some of their efforts theocratic and attempts to stifle free speech.  (If you’ve ever listened to some of his work, I think you can see just how big a fan of free speech he was.)

    He was also an incredibly talented musician and composer.  If you’ve only heard his more popular work, you haven’t really seen the full range of his abilities as either a performer or composer.  Find some good headphones and listen to either The Grand Wazoo or Jazz From Hell.

    Zappa also hated the phony, over-commercialized, synthetic, “scratch-the-surface” nature of contemporary US society with a passion.

    The American Society of University Composers invited Zappa to give the keynote speech at their 1984 convention in Columbus, Ohio.  He accepted.

    I don’t think the ASUC realized what they’d done.  Essentially, they’d just invited the fox into the hen house.

    The result was classic.  It was a scathing (and hilarious) commentary on academic tenure, contemporary society, and lack of both relevance and convictions.

    Here’s the full text of Zappa’s speech that day.  An abridged version is available here – and is further confirmed here in Zappa’s autobiography, The Real Frank Zappa Book.

    Zappa died over 20 years ago, of early-onset prostate cancer that wasn’t caught in time.  He was 17 days short of his 53rd birthday.

    RIP, Frank.  We lost a true American original the day we lost you.

  • Another Ode to All Military Fakes

    Oddman

     

    Well, I came upon a odd old man
    He was wearing a fancy coat
    And I asked him, tell me what are those medals?
    This he told me

    Well son that one is my Silver Star
    And I got me a Bronze Star or two
    And I got a Purple Heart, Wings, C-I-B

    Aren’t they shiny? Aren’t they golden!
    And I got them in the war, son
    And you dare not doubt me now, ’cause I’m a hero!

    Then another came to praise him
    And he sang a pean song
    Said that all were wrong to dare question this fellow

    And maybe it’s the time of year
    But then maybe it’s the day and age
    And I can’t say what it was
    But something seemed fishy

    Aren’t they shiny? Aren’t they golden!
    And he got them in the war, mon
    So you dare not doubt him now, ’cause he’s my hero!

    Yes they’re shiny, Yes they’re golden –
    But does he really rate them?
    And I now do wonder  – is he a real hero?

    By the time we saw the FOI-A
    Have to say we were not shocked
    It wasn’t the first time we’d seen a faker

    And I dreamed I saw thousands of real vets
    Marching toward that old fraud
    As his face turned pale as milk
    Afraid to face them

    Yes they’re shiny, and they’re golden
    But his valor is all stolen
    Now his deceit is well-known – and he’s a zero!

     . . .

    With apologies to Joni Mitchell, who wrote the original – and to Crosby/Stills/Nash/Young, who IMO did the definitive version years ago.

  • A Cultural Icon Ceases Print

    Last week, an American cultural icon ceased print publication.  After 60 years, Jet Magazine announced last Wednesday that it was moving to an all-digital business model.  It will cease publishing a printed edition.

    I’ll be the first to admit that Jet wasn’t my “cup of tea”.  But I did on occasion look at it – and when I was younger, it was fairly common.

    Jet was indeed a US cultural icon.  In its early days, it was instrumental in helping the Civil Rights movement get traction, publishing the photos of Emitt Till’s badly disfigured body to show how he’d been abused when he was killed.  And it provided Black America with a source of news and commentary not readily found elsewhere.

    Declining readership finally did Jet in.  Recent years haven’t been kind to most brick/mortar/paper magazines, and Jet was no exception.

    The US will survive without Jet, of course.  And one can argue whether it’s a loss worth mourning or not.

    But regardless of ancestry, IMO we’ve all lost something.  I can’t help but feel we’ve lost a bit of Americana with Jet’s passing.

  • Nigerian Scammer Gets “Punked”

    We’ve all seen and heard the Nigerian scam e-mails.  In general, they’re of the pattern:  “Just send me some (money/merchandise), and I’ll (cut you in on the proceeds from an illicit deal worth many times as much).”

    Well, a few years ago one man turned the tables on one of those scammers.  In this case, the scammer wanted some laptop computers.  So the scammer’s intended target claimed to have a computer company – and promised to send him some promotional models, provided the scammer did two things:

    • paid for shipping to Nigeria, and
    • made an English-language commercial for the man’s company – Anus Computers -– using a script the man provided to the scammer

    In reality, the guy then shipped the scammer a large block of wood.  (Another version I’ve seen says he also sent a load of broken computer parts.)  And the “commercial” that resulted is a classic.

    Without further ado – the “Anus Computer Commercial”.  Audio level is pretty low, so you’ll need to turn up the sound a bit.  There are multiple takes; the better ones start at about 1:30.

    Unfortunately, the original source – scambaiter.com – seems to have gone on to that great bit-bucket in the sky. However, the video of the “commercial” remains available on YouTube.

    Enjoy.  And don’t forget to use the patented “wipe it clean” software afterwards!  (smile)