Sunday, November 19, 2006
First PostNot to be confused with Last Post which is when you (well you don't - the others around the grave do!) hear that damned trumpet. Today is another sober day and this old geezer is teaching himself new tricks. I have recently returned from a round the world trip and am happy to report that AA seems to be working all around the world with a minimum of input from me. I had an amazing planting the seed story happen while I was visiting my old home in Cumbria. I called on a family where the son had a history of destructive alcoholism. I had sent him a Big Book in 1993 and let it go at that. I knocked on that door and said son came to the door and welcomed me with open arms. He then proceeded to tell me that he had been sober for 5 years and that “ the damned book “ had given him the hope and strength to try a different way. He thanked me for saving his life and I reminded him that AA had saved his life in exactly the same way it had saved my life as well.
Thank you Martin for the work in getting me up and running
Thank you Martin for the work in getting me up and running
# posted by tong @ 1:34 PM
Sunday, September 10, 2006
While it may be just my imagination or my intense loathing for people who tailgate, it seems like we have more than the normal amount of tailgaters in our area. Nine times out of ten it’s a young thug wanna be slumped down behind the wheel of the offending car that is so close to your bumper that you can’t even see their headlights but only the top of their windshield from your rearview mirror.
And it’s not just me, everyone I know of complains about them. Chris used to keep Snapple bottles in the floorboard of his car so he would have one within reach to wave out of the moonroof of his car to let them know that they needed to back off and stay out of range should he decide to whiz it at their windshield.
Every time it happens, there is never a cop in sight. Until the other day.
Nick and I were out running errands and had to make a stop at the bank. In front of the bank is a red light where a side street connects to a busy intersection. As we were getting out of the car to walk inside we noticed a SUV come up to the light with a small ‘beater’ car riding right on it’s bumper.
As the SUV came to a complete stop, the car behind it that had been on it’s bumper, also came to a stop, a few mere inches from the bumper. The driver side door of the SUV swung open and one of the biggest men I’ve ever seen bounded out from behind the wheel and out on to the road. When I say ‘big’ I don’t mean obese big, but 6’4, 250 pounds of daily iron pumping, buffed out, MASSIVE.
This man was so large that the sleeves of his shirt were doing all they could not to bust out the seams due to his massive biceps. Did I say sleeves of his shirt? My bad, I meant the sleeves of his uniform. The brown uniform worn by the officers of our county sheriff’s office.
The officer practically leapt from behind the wheel, out on to the street and back to the little car behind him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but just watching his body language was enough to convey his point. He began yelling and pointing at the driver of the little car, pointing to the bumper of his SUV and then to the front bumper of the car and the tiny space in between.
The driver of the car was much as I expected, probably not any older than 19 with his cap on backwards and the rap music blaring. Within seconds I noticed that the ear throbbing thumping sounds from the car had mysteriously dissipated while the driver slunk further and further down in the driver’s seat.
Still furious the off duty deputy sheriff pointed his finger one last time before he spun on his heel and got back in his SUV just as the light turned green.
The little car made sure there was at least 2 car spaces in between him and the SUV before he followed through the green light.
Oh yeah, I was lovin' it and judging by the grins of all the other onlookers who had witnessed it, I wasn't the only one.
And it’s not just me, everyone I know of complains about them. Chris used to keep Snapple bottles in the floorboard of his car so he would have one within reach to wave out of the moonroof of his car to let them know that they needed to back off and stay out of range should he decide to whiz it at their windshield.
Every time it happens, there is never a cop in sight. Until the other day.
Nick and I were out running errands and had to make a stop at the bank. In front of the bank is a red light where a side street connects to a busy intersection. As we were getting out of the car to walk inside we noticed a SUV come up to the light with a small ‘beater’ car riding right on it’s bumper.
As the SUV came to a complete stop, the car behind it that had been on it’s bumper, also came to a stop, a few mere inches from the bumper. The driver side door of the SUV swung open and one of the biggest men I’ve ever seen bounded out from behind the wheel and out on to the road. When I say ‘big’ I don’t mean obese big, but 6’4, 250 pounds of daily iron pumping, buffed out, MASSIVE.
This man was so large that the sleeves of his shirt were doing all they could not to bust out the seams due to his massive biceps. Did I say sleeves of his shirt? My bad, I meant the sleeves of his uniform. The brown uniform worn by the officers of our county sheriff’s office.
The officer practically leapt from behind the wheel, out on to the street and back to the little car behind him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but just watching his body language was enough to convey his point. He began yelling and pointing at the driver of the little car, pointing to the bumper of his SUV and then to the front bumper of the car and the tiny space in between.
The driver of the car was much as I expected, probably not any older than 19 with his cap on backwards and the rap music blaring. Within seconds I noticed that the ear throbbing thumping sounds from the car had mysteriously dissipated while the driver slunk further and further down in the driver’s seat.
Still furious the off duty deputy sheriff pointed his finger one last time before he spun on his heel and got back in his SUV just as the light turned green.
The little car made sure there was at least 2 car spaces in between him and the SUV before he followed through the green light.
Oh yeah, I was lovin' it and judging by the grins of all the other onlookers who had witnessed it, I wasn't the only one.
# posted by tong @ 5:07 PM
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
snowIt is the first time that I see Ca: snow! Mrs Croquette took to me in her arms and posed to me on the edge of the window of roof: impressing. At one time, I wanted to go to trott me on the roof but it firmly caught me and I acknowledge that I did not want to start again.I found the repertory where it put its photographs, I join some low.With share Ca, Mrs Croquette began a new book, it is insane what it passes like time to read. I recopied a passage, just some lines:
"the Winter, we will go in a small pink coachWith blue cushions.We will be well. A nest of insane kisses restsIn each marrowy corner."
I stop there, I can right statement that it is of certain Arthur Rimbaud. Do not know. I wait until it speaks about it with her girlfriends, history that I include/understand something there. The only trick that she to me said, when one looked at snow falling on the roofs, it is that times, poetry, it is deep and as of time it is light, and that in this moment, she seeks a little light things, to divert its attention and its emotions: a history of Asia, tidal wave, very not included/understood, but with the sound of his voice, I have make velvet leg on his cheek.
CinemaMrs Croquette went to read in her room, I benefit from it to write, while typing most gently possible on the keys of the ordi of the end of my legs. This evening, it went to the cinema, I intended it to tell film with a girlfriend with the telephone when it returned. I do not know exactly what is the cinema: stories which one buys, rather expensive I believe, whom one sees I do not know where and who make speak about the hours. This evening, it saw "the fachées sisters", it thought that it was going to see a light comedy, poilante, but in fact, per moment, Ca seemed to be rather dramatic. She also says that Isabelle Huppert always plays of the odd roles, twisted a little, but that at least, she plays them super good. I like when Mrs Croquette goes to the movies: when it returns, it is super cool, one would say that Ca calms it: hardly the opened door, it takes to me on its shoulder, always the line, and it makes me caresses sublimes between the ears.It and me, it is not that for the croquettes...
I leave you.Miaou,Sakhado
TrawlThis evening, I wanted to write. Mrs Croquette is in the bathroom, I benefitted from it to light the PC, to create this Blog, but suddenly, I have the jitter: I am not on there are other cats which hold their newspaper on the Web. If is to be all alone to tell my life, not thank you. Good, I disconnect myself, Mrs Croquette finished taking his shower. It will be very softened, it will call me monnnnn minooooooou, will scrape me the head, then, I leave you, I spin planquer in his room behind the bed.
Miaou and with soon
Sakhado.
"the Winter, we will go in a small pink coachWith blue cushions.We will be well. A nest of insane kisses restsIn each marrowy corner."
I stop there, I can right statement that it is of certain Arthur Rimbaud. Do not know. I wait until it speaks about it with her girlfriends, history that I include/understand something there. The only trick that she to me said, when one looked at snow falling on the roofs, it is that times, poetry, it is deep and as of time it is light, and that in this moment, she seeks a little light things, to divert its attention and its emotions: a history of Asia, tidal wave, very not included/understood, but with the sound of his voice, I have make velvet leg on his cheek.
CinemaMrs Croquette went to read in her room, I benefit from it to write, while typing most gently possible on the keys of the ordi of the end of my legs. This evening, it went to the cinema, I intended it to tell film with a girlfriend with the telephone when it returned. I do not know exactly what is the cinema: stories which one buys, rather expensive I believe, whom one sees I do not know where and who make speak about the hours. This evening, it saw "the fachées sisters", it thought that it was going to see a light comedy, poilante, but in fact, per moment, Ca seemed to be rather dramatic. She also says that Isabelle Huppert always plays of the odd roles, twisted a little, but that at least, she plays them super good. I like when Mrs Croquette goes to the movies: when it returns, it is super cool, one would say that Ca calms it: hardly the opened door, it takes to me on its shoulder, always the line, and it makes me caresses sublimes between the ears.It and me, it is not that for the croquettes...
I leave you.Miaou,Sakhado
TrawlThis evening, I wanted to write. Mrs Croquette is in the bathroom, I benefitted from it to light the PC, to create this Blog, but suddenly, I have the jitter: I am not on there are other cats which hold their newspaper on the Web. If is to be all alone to tell my life, not thank you. Good, I disconnect myself, Mrs Croquette finished taking his shower. It will be very softened, it will call me monnnnn minooooooou, will scrape me the head, then, I leave you, I spin planquer in his room behind the bed.
Miaou and with soon
Sakhado.
# posted by tong @ 8:05 PM
Monday, April 03, 2006
I towel, I galeteI acknowledge the term A galete is a pure fabrication, the verb galeter to use here in fact comes from the word "roller" yes yes the rollers as those which one finds on the beaches hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
that then I to make well with all my rollers, a few kilos of Normandy, presicely of colleville on sea?????? once arrived has the house I did them disolve in the bath-tub 2 nights of continuation then dried out to the sun on the balcony and after........................ i, here 3 examples of those already carried out, well on I servietté them preserved the maritime theme that I find suitable taking into account their source, now they are used of déco, press paper, approval on the plate
With the barracks they quite simply make fury and one proprosé me to buy them to me, but not those the nan nan those I keep them for me they are my whole first hihi
I thus stuck modeles of towels, carefully cut out then varnished the whole, I acknowledge that I adored, the next ones will be made soon
here has what that assembles
that then I to make well with all my rollers, a few kilos of Normandy, presicely of colleville on sea?????? once arrived has the house I did them disolve in the bath-tub 2 nights of continuation then dried out to the sun on the balcony and after........................ i, here 3 examples of those already carried out, well on I servietté them preserved the maritime theme that I find suitable taking into account their source, now they are used of déco, press paper, approval on the plate
With the barracks they quite simply make fury and one proprosé me to buy them to me, but not those the nan nan those I keep them for me they are my whole first hihi
I thus stuck modeles of towels, carefully cut out then varnished the whole, I acknowledge that I adored, the next ones will be made soon
here has what that assembles
# posted by tong @ 2:20 PM
Monday, February 13, 2006
OK, I've just got to talk for a while because my wall is getting sick of listening.I've been thinking about We The Living again, and my life is still resembling the book.I am really worn out. In fact, I'm borderline exhausted. And there's still over 40 days to go until the election, and who knows how many after that until it's all resolved. I reference the election because that's what I'm really worried about, as a self-proclaimed philosophical mind. Sometimes I worry that it's just other peoples' frenzy that has whipped me all up, but I know that our society is almost at a breaking point. I've read Orwell. I don't want to live in that kind of a society. I want freedom and I don't want to be involved in a war that does nothing but take our own freedom and others' away.What is going to happen if we don't prevail this time? What if there's a draft? What if reader and writer privacy and freedom gets thrown out the door in the name of the war on terror? I already don't feel comfortable writing about the things I'd consider doing, because I know someone might be watching. A while ago, that would've been enough for me to pack up and leave. Now?I've got to finish school. There's no way I could attend school abroad, and I'm not a blue-collar person, so that wouldn't work well. I don't have money. And at the very least I'm stuck here till next August or thereabouts writing my column.I have to do my small part to remove Bush, because otherwise I'll kick myself even harder later - even though I'd kick myself hard no matter what if he "wins." And whenever I'm at home at something outrages me, I come to the computer to add my tiny contribution to the blogosphere, a small straw on the pile, because I still believe every voice counts.But that's wearing me out. Like in We The Living, I'm stuck making the choices to do what I don't want. I have time to write here, but I don't have the time to let it sit and think over it, because it just doesn't matter that much to this country/world/spirit I'm trying to help save. I'm stuck in a sport I do want to play but don't want to, because, well, I just can't leave. I'm stuck in two college classes that are basically high school classes that just waste my time and lots of it. I'm at the whim of everyone else.It doesn't seem possible, but I want to make a career out of my mind. I want to be the next Socrates, but I don't think Socrates or any of those guys had to occupy themselves with the crap we do in society today. And just who would listen to such a man in today's world? This whole ordeal is reinforcing my beliefs about the ideal society: A society of one, maybe two (I haven't decided). I want to go live in the middle of nowhere, for a couple years, and just think. Of course, to do that I'd need to stock up a couple years of food. Someday, maybe.For now, I'm lucky if I have enough time to make lunch. I'm in a rut where I don't like to write, I don't want to actively think, I don't want to do anything. How did other people do it? Bush really ranks pretty low on the scale of crappy leaders - there are people in much worse situations than us, even today. Maybe I'm not just cut out for trying to advance change while constantly doubting myself. I don't have the mind it takes - I get scared, I get embarassed, I whuss out easily. I'm a grunt-line guy, not a first-liner, but I'm in an equipment manager's body.Before I keep writing for an hour, I'm going to post this. Not to mention I have a column to finish, a paper on nothing of any importance whatsoever due Monday, lots of math, and more and more and more due soon. Why did I ever decide to embrace my intelligence? Someday this had better pay off, because right now, I'm clinging for dear life to the short end of the stick.How can the yellow square be disappearing already? I'm only 18, but I feel like I'm in a 50-year-old body right now. Or maybe I want to feel like I'm fifty, so death is just over the horizon and I can move on. We all need to Move On.
# posted by tong @ 3:52 PM
A personal experience of how news isn't really news anymore
Some anonymous cowardly dude wrote in about my last article and said this:
I'm responding to Brian Hokanson's article (Sept. 15) about the Bush campaign event. I attended some of those and I think perhaps, even though he wrote a very good article and I appreciate his comments, I was never required to sign an oath promising to endorse Bush.
I think this is something he's gotten out of the wind some place and I don't think it's widespread. It is important that we are able to protect our president because he put his head on the line against terrorists.
The Secret Service has to do a very good job of protecting him.
Therefore, I would never go to a campaign event with something that might be questioned.
I thank the young man for really thinking about it, but I think he found some things he can't substantiate as far as signing an oath to endorse Bush.
Huh? I wrote:
At one Albuquerque speech, attendees were required to sign an oath promising to endorse Bush. Such a practice, if widespread, would disqualify more than 50 percent of the public from listening to their own leaders.
So to sum it up, the guy who wrote in and got free space is a liar, a coward, didn't even read my column, and a moron. Now if he just wrote to me, that wouldn't be a problem because that kind of thing happens. But the paper decided to be lazy and give this douchebag of liberty free space. He doesn't even have a name!!!
Gotta remember: I'm only doing this for the resume, not to support any sort of moral standard. That went out the window a long time ago in Rochester....
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Some anonymous cowardly dude wrote in about my last article and said this:
I'm responding to Brian Hokanson's article (Sept. 15) about the Bush campaign event. I attended some of those and I think perhaps, even though he wrote a very good article and I appreciate his comments, I was never required to sign an oath promising to endorse Bush.
I think this is something he's gotten out of the wind some place and I don't think it's widespread. It is important that we are able to protect our president because he put his head on the line against terrorists.
The Secret Service has to do a very good job of protecting him.
Therefore, I would never go to a campaign event with something that might be questioned.
I thank the young man for really thinking about it, but I think he found some things he can't substantiate as far as signing an oath to endorse Bush.
Huh? I wrote:
At one Albuquerque speech, attendees were required to sign an oath promising to endorse Bush. Such a practice, if widespread, would disqualify more than 50 percent of the public from listening to their own leaders.
So to sum it up, the guy who wrote in and got free space is a liar, a coward, didn't even read my column, and a moron. Now if he just wrote to me, that wouldn't be a problem because that kind of thing happens. But the paper decided to be lazy and give this douchebag of liberty free space. He doesn't even have a name!!!
Gotta remember: I'm only doing this for the resume, not to support any sort of moral standard. That went out the window a long time ago in Rochester....
Post page
# posted by tong @ 3:49 PM
