Monday, August 30, 2010

If you love your smart phone, thank Charles Hayes

Technology rules our lives, we can't escape the domination it has over us. Every day we use gadgets and gizmo's such as GPS, smart phones, Satellite television and so on, and men like Charles Clifton Hayes are responsible for their use.

Charles Clifton Hayes aka Chuck was a NASA technician for the better part of forty years, if you ever saw the film The Right Stuff, then you should have an idea of the type of man that Chuck is. Chuck was involved with the original 7 astronaut program and worked on the Delta rockets that launched the satellites that now help make the lives of busy parents and tech savvy kids get through the day.

Chuck is now in his seventies and the technology that he helped create has passed him by, he does not own a cell phone or laptop, he has the most basic of cable and he struggles with the toys of his grandchildren.
Chuck and his lunchbox worked countless hours out at the old Kennedy Space Center, his stories include the time he was asked to hire a midget who could bench press 100lbs. The pint sized employee had to be small enough to fit inside the cargo payload of a compartment while lifting 100lbs. of stuff. And just how much duct tape was actually used on the launched rockets would keep you up at night.

Chuck is a throwback to a time when America was the world's leader in technology and innovation, he has long retired but his blood, sweat and tears will ever be displayed at the Cape on launch pad 5.
I was not born in this great country but the one thing I will always associate with America is the space program, I am not one to be labeled as a elephant or donkey, but I do hope that politics will not cause the demise of this great program. Many years ago Americans were glued to their televisions as heroes were hurdled into space not really knowing the danger or eventual outcome, these men and women of this program helped forge the nation into the giant is is today.

I want to thank Chuck Hayes, the Georgia farm boy, for his hard work and dedication to not only the United States but the world for the trail he helped blaze. Thank you for going to work every day so people like me can check my e-mail on my phone while getting directions on the GPS while on my way to buy a new TV, and so on and so on.
Thanks Chuck, enjoy your retirement you deserve it.

Click on the picture for more detail, this is the original document.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Where do I turn in my man card?

I consider myself a manly man, a regular Joe with likes and tastes similar to most men no matter what part of the globe. Recently I have spent countless hours in front of the tv watching such manly broadcasts as -
The Jacksonville Monster Truck Rally, The Houston Rodeo including cow roping and bull riding, The Oregon Lumberjack finals sponsored by the Stihl chainsaw company, Football (The one without pads, helmets and commercials), The UFC otherwise known as ultimate fighting championship.
Then this past weekend my lovely wife suggested we watch the testicle shrinking movie - Twilight.
Yes the one with the pale faced skinny little boy who looks a burger and fries short of the grave, can someone please feed this boy.
Every ounce of my soul fought this picture and its premice, why? I assumed the movie was only for teenage girls or single mothers longing for lost love with slight white English pseudo vampires.
I scorned myself at the thought of people knowing my actual enjoyment of this film, I pictured myself sitting in a pub surrounded by other menly men being probed with the question "Seen any good movies lately"  After my loquacious answer the room closes in on me, I am now the focal point of ocular distaste especially in the company of such alpha males.
Our species has the innate ability to outcast any of its kind not deemed manly enough to chew iron and spit nails. 
Anyway I did watch Twilight and New Moon this past weekend and I must say - well, I enjoyed them both. The two films actualy kept my intrigue much more than I thought, they were well written and seemed to be attractive to more the wee girls and their mothers.
One enjoyable aspect was that both movies kept the attention of my two boys, which with the company of my wife made for an enjoyable weekend.
After all of this rant about this movie series I must say I am a fan, a little late but still a fan none the less.
So if any of my beer guzzling, single malt drinking football watching wolfpack have a problem with this diatribe, they can come and rip my man card out of my sausage fingers. Good luck, you can find me in line at the next Twilight premier wearing ear plugs, you know why.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


"It's so easy to be a man." she said, "You wake up in the morning do your business, shave/aftershave, grab the first clean shirt, eat and out." How do I respond to that? am I a gender cliche? an afterthought from a romance film boy meets girl, boys falls in love with girl  blah blah blah......

My response to the fractious comment was "I had no choice in the matter, no inner-womb tribunal to be asked "Baby, do you wish to be a boy or a girl? here are the pros and cons of both, now pay attention baby this is important stuff we are dealing with here.
"A pee-pee is your first and most important toy, it has a little power and you will find yourself checking to see if is still attached from time to time."
A hoo-hoo does not have the visual effect of the pee-pee but has the power to launch a thousand ships, so choose wisely baby."

Menopause Mama was not amused with my quintessential definition of gender and I received a scorned look, the kind of look a stray animal would receive upon stumbling across a feeding lioness. I slowly backed away knowing I was in dangerous territory here like a jungle explorer surrounded by natives not knowing where the first blowdart will come from.

My next feeble attempt is to applaud the females I know, my wife the lioness, my mother and both of my brothers' women by promoting their greatness in their respective families. The lioness is not impressed, the lion now wants to run away and safeguard his toy.

I think the difference she is referring to is grooming, a man can go without a shave and look rugged and masculine but an unshaved women is not an attractive thought. (I am refering to her legs, keep your mind out of the gutter, I am already in enough trouble)

What if women actually ruled the world? all of it and men were just slaves only there to serve and please women with no other job or task. Sounds good to me, will we get a t.v.? what about beer? can we still have beer?

My wife and I are best friends and the jib jab is only a comic relief from the tension of daily life. The menopause is real and sometimes the lightning bolts are also but we still find a laugh at the end of the day.
Men are men and women are women, from the cavemen to now we still have not determined the inner clockworks of each other but we keep on keeping on. It's only a matter of plumbing.
Cheers, Sausage Fingers...


Monday, August 9, 2010

I love my Chinese Balls. Jingle, Jingle

I have always wanted a pair of those shiny Chinese balls, the kind that make the wee jingle noise when you play with them. To me they are a symbol of power, the kind of table toy used by Bond villains while tempting the fate of the worlds's greatest secret agent. "Goodbye Mr. Bond jingle jingle, you are to late, hahahahaaa."

The wifey and I were dodging around some local garage sales last weekend and I came across a sweet pair of used Chinese balls, they were even presented in a satin filled box with a wee lock, so when you are finished playing with your balls you can put them away safely in the box.

Later that day after I had bartered and negotioted for the balls, I sat in my Lazy-boy with balls in hand jingle, jingle, jingle. I watched as the family darted around me as if I was plagued with some weird disease, but I sat silently and passed judgement on all of them with my internal Bond villain voice.
Wife - You will make me a sandwich and fetch me a beer, jingle jingle.

Sons - You will clean out the garage and wash my car, jingle jingle.

Dog - You will obey my every command, bring me my flip flops, jingle, jingle (It's too hot here for slippers.)

Something happened to my balls, I can't find them. I am thinking sabotage in the sausage house.
I miss my shiny balls......
Jingle jingle.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Apparently There Is A Barrel And It Looks Like We Have Reached The Bottom

The other day I was not feeling to well and decided to take a sick day. After hurling up breakfast I positioned myself on the couch to enjoy Mr. Carey and his delightful games. Anyone who has ever had a lonely sick day at home, and is not Ferris Bueller, knows that game shows are the proper tonic for a speedy recovery.

Once the game shows were finished I coursed the channels for something else to aid in my misery, football has not started so the tube offerings were bleak.
I came accross something that I would not usually watch, especially if others were in the house. This type of programming was not for me, the network geniuses did not have married men in their 40's, at home and sick when this acid trip of a show was conjured up. The premice of this show reminded me of my youth in Ft. Lauderdale, when on spring break my crew and I would try to adapt to the regular behavior of the average college aged male, enough said.
The show in question - JERSEY SHORE.

There was nothing else on so I decided to give it a go and see what all the fuss was about.
Five minutes in I was back at the toilet praying to Lord Ralph, it seems that Snookie, The Situation and Paulie D are the ipecac syrup of broadcast television.
I made it through 2 episodes and could no longer stomach the occular rape so I turned off the TV.
I sat alone at home vomit dangling from the corner of my mouth and realised that this show is the reason that nobody on the planet takes us seriously. I am willing to bet that more people watch this show and know the minutia of every detail of who hooked up with who and what brand of industrial hair gel does this dude use, than voted in local and national elections. I am willing to bet that the cast of this show couldn't pick out Washington D.C. on a map, yet I am sure they are making as much dough as the president.

I don't want to ramble on too much, but remember I was sick and now angry that this diaper filler was on television!
Am I so arrogant to think that in my youth when I was gelled up and hooking up that I was better or smarter than these orange-ish clowns? Hell yes I was. At anytime on the beaches of Fort Lauderdale in 1984 to 1988, if I was asked a randon question I am pretty sure I would not humiliate myself or my ethnic swerve, I think.
I guess this bunch of kids are just young, dumb and looking for a good time, the same thing most of us did at the same age. If a camera crew followed me around 24/7 back in the 80's the 40 somethings of that day would vomit over my generations debocherous antics. At least our tan was from the sun and not a bottle.
Good luck to cast of the show, my advice to you - Save your money, all of it.

I am willing to help fund their condom budget, we don't need any of them preggo. The world is not ready, Yo.