Ghost of Sam Post

The Continuing Saga of Rot

Sam Post — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 22:41:00 GMT

In the continuing mess of “oh when will this house ever sell?” I decided to make the house more salable by fixing that which needed to be fixed. These past few days my labors centered around fixing the areas of the outside invaded by wood rot. Fortunately, the siding is simple wood paneling. Over the years the water causes the bottom of the wood to rot, and this must be replaced from time to time. Basically, I cut about a foot off the bottom portion of the wood siding and replaced it with new paneling. A quick coat of paint and we’re done. I was also fortunate to discover that the wood underneath the outside plywood was still intact – no rot – so I didn’t have to replace any of that. Of course, if I was dealing with a realtor who knew how to communicate, I might have elected to not do any of this work. The house is being sold “as is”, meaning that the buyer will accept whatever is there. But, I was never given a copy of the contract – or the addendum – so I went ahead and fixed what I thought I ought to fix because I have self-respect and I wouldn’t want to “stick” anyone with a substandard building. I may have done more than I should have, but I’ll sleep better knowing that I did what was right. I guess this attitude comes from being in business for many years; I’ve come to know that if you treat someone well, they will come back again. If you treat someone shabbily, they will never return. You would have burned a bridge. My thoughts on the matter have always been: Do right by me and I’ll tell everyone I know; do wrong by me and I’ll tell twice as many people. I believe that if a person does a good job, if he was fair with you, if he gave you a good product or service, if he kept you informed – with explanation, then he has done “right” by you. He deserves to be pointed out as a great vendor and word of mouth advertising by satisfied people should keep him in business. Conversely, if a businessman has not done any of the above services for the client, but has instead caused the client to feel disconnected in some way, then I say that this vendor should be shown for the misdeeds that he has perpetrated. This so that other people will not be “screwed”.

Tipping is a similar situation. When we “tip” a service person, we are tacitly saying that they pleased us with their service. Maybe they went the extra step, did more than they were required to do, or pointed out a two-for-one sale that we didn’t see. These people deserve our thanks. But, how many times have we gone into a restaurant and gotten bad food, or been ignored, or had to endure a lousy attitude from some service person? Do these people also deserve a tip? I think not. Tipping is extra money that we pay for extra good service. If there is no extra service (even a genuine smile may qualify) then why should there be extra pay? I’ve heard that waitpeople (isn’t that a stupid word?) get paid so poorly that they depend upon tips to round out their pay so that they can make a living. Sounds good – for them. But, if you’ve received bad service, there is no reason to reward such people. Service people are in a position to earn a lot more money if they produce. This is very fair, those who produce more should get more; those who produce less should get less. If you tip bad service, that is what you will be supporting and that’s what everyone will get.

Years ago, when I was raising a family, I decided that I would purchase some records of classical music so that my children would be exposed to it. There was a commercial on the TV at the time advertising all the great composers, Mozart, Beethoven, etc. In the background there were small clips of each composer, just a few seconds of each so that you could hear a sampling of what you were about to order. I ordered the records thinking that I had done something good. A few weeks later the records arrived and I hurriedly unpacked my purchase and headed for the stereo (that’s a thing that plays those large black discs with the small hole in the middle). What I heard was the same music that I heard on the commercial, just a few seconds of each artist; there wasn’t a complete musical piece on any of the records. Yes, they sent me what they were playing on the ad. I got screwed and as a result, I will never buy anything by mail. Same deal with magazines. You subscribe to a magazine that you enjoy so that you will get it every month. Okay. But supposing that you want to cancel it at a later time? Or, you buy something like a magazine that you haven’t seen before and, after seeing the first issue, you decide that you don’t want it. You have to go through Hell to cancel the subscription. Used to be in the old days that if you didn’t pay for something, you didn’t get it. Today, they keep sending the items and they keeping billing you. You lose all the way around. You have a product that you don’t want and you have to pay for it too. Lesson learned, never buy anything that you can’t walk into a store and pick it up yourself.

My question, and I bet it’s yours too, is how are these companies able to get away with these business tactics? You would think that there would be laws to protect consumers from these unscrupulous companies. We have so many stupid laws for so many ridiculous things that it is logical to think that somewhere along the way some lawmaker would present a law that would actually help the public. I guess all lawmakers should be required to buy those same records that I bought years ago. Then we would see some progress. So says Sam Post.

Bureaucratic Buffalo Chips

Sam Post — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 22:29:00 GMT

As most of you (that is, both of you) know, we are trying to sell our house and move to another location. The process of selling a house was always fraught with Donkey Dust but nowadays it is even worse. I can understand that there is a sequence of events that must happen, but it is so blown out of proportion that an honest person is completely lost. You see, no one in this “game” is honest. No one says what they mean and no one speaks directly to the person who they mean to hear the message. Communication is all but non-existent. Instead, there is a chain of people between buyer and seller that pervert the message. Do you remember the child’s game called “telephone”? This is where each person whispers the message into the ear of the next person and finally the message gets to the last person. But, because of all the people in between the first and last persons, the message becomes all distorted. Well, that’s what it’s like trying to sell a house. Of course, there are those individuals that can’t speak clearly and they need an interpreter. I’m not talking about foreigners here. Then a middleman may be the only way to get things done, but, if there are two relatively intelligent people who are trying to transact a deal, then the middlemen are a hindrance.

Then there are the institutions that are involved in any Real Estate transaction. They include banks, insurance companies, inspectors, appraisers, bug investigators, etc. From what I’ve seen in the past few months, all of these entities act like they are doing the customer a favor just to talk to them. I get the impression that they do not want the customer. Everyone is treated like a criminal who must prove beyond any doubt (reasonable or not) that they will fulfill their obligation – and give their first born as collateral. Mmmm, maybe that part is not a bad thing. It used to be that a company would welcome a prospective customer, work along with him/her and help iron out the details. It was called “service”, something that is entirely lacking these days. Decades ago we were a manufacturing nation, we produced all the things needed for living, and we had pride in ourselves as a people and as a nation. Then we were told that we are changing to a service nation, in which the emphasis was on taking care of the customer – it never took hold – there was never any real “service”. Then we were told that we are in the information age. What a crock; information was always available if the person took the time to seek it. So now we have no manufacturing, no service, and useless information (what good is information if a person doesn’t use it?). I say we now are in the Slug age. This is where most people just sit around like slugs on a log.

Now I know what Diogenes felt like. Okay, for those who are looking at the screen funny, Diogenes was a character from long ago who’s quest was to find an honest man. I guess even in the days of the ancient Greeks people were just as dishonest as they are today. It is very frustrating to act honestly and with alacrity and then find yourself so far ahead of the other people (slugs) involved in the transaction. An honest person does in minutes what a bureaucrat does in months. What’s the point in dragging something on for months? All it does is piss off everyone and the deal may go sour because of it. It is frightening to think that some of these bureaucrats may be ambulance drivers, or surgeons. How would you feel if you were in need of medical services and you had to depend on bureaucrats? Actually, that is the case because very, very few people care about others’ comfort or lives. Why do they call them “emergency rooms” when a person in dire need has to spend hours sitting, waiting to be seen? How many people die needlessly in emergency rooms because of endless paperwork and other bureaucratic nonsense?

There are endless examples of stupidity in our society. All that is necessary to cure this stupidity is to just stop doing what we are doing and to act honestly with each other. But then all government workers would be out of a job. I think this cure is too lofty for our society; we are heading in the wrong direction. We are getting more dishonest all the time. I’ll bet that Diogenes is still searching for an honest man.

One of my favorite examples of stupidity is the “paper reduction act”. This is the process by which they use ten pieces of paper to tell you that they are saving one piece of paper. Are they kidding? Do they really think that people are stupid enough to believe them? Probably not, bureaucrats of any stripe don’t care enough about people to consider the effects that are put upon the population. That’s probably why the bureaucrats keep screwing up things; they never look down to see who they are stepping on.

Since we in a declining society, the “end” can’t be too far off. I don’t know how we will destroy ourselves, but it is inevitable. My guess is that we will continue to ruin our own society, thus turning this country into a type of third world toilet, while the other nations of the world take over the task of manufacturing, etc. America will be given away little by little while other nations become strong doing what we used to do when we started this country. What of the people of America? Well, by the time the balance of power shifts to other nations, the American people will have been dumbed down to the point of not even noticing what is happening to them. Hell, most people in our country don’t see it happening now! So says Sam Post.

The Globalization Snafu

Sam Post — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 23:47:00 GMT

Here in the South they have a few things that are actually sensible. The one phrase that comes to mind right now is: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. I think that most folks will agree that globalization requires massive change. But “change” should be a good thing; it shouldn’t cause massive problems for anyone. A little inconvenience here and there – for the greater good – no problem, it’s inevitable. The “G” word should have only four letters. It is crippling this country’s economy; it is ruining the people by taking away any pride or integrity they may possess; it is (possibly) going to make the U.S. a third world country. It would be better if we retained our hard earned way of life and then encouraged the other countries to better themselves – if they desired to do so. But we meddle; we stick our nose in the business of other citizens of the world and we try to make them live like us. How much better we would be to MIND OUR OWN BUSINESS! Instead, in our massive stupidity, we try to take over the whole world. We are very wrong to do this. Not only do we ruin our own people’s integrity, but also we destroy whatever pride there exists in the people in the other countries. Why, for example, when our ubiquitous “aid” goes to some areas in Africa, the local people steal all the supplies and then kill the workers who have decided that they will come in to show the local people how to live? Answer: This may happen because we are stealing the local people’s pride in themselves – this may be all that they have – and they will fight to keep it. Who decided that we are the “gods of the Earth”? Change for change sake is Donkey dust.

What of our own people? We don’t produce anything anymore; we are fat and lazy; we eat food and make filth. We don’t have an education system (don’t get me started), we have a brain wash system. Our young people have almost no clue how to work, or even that they should work. We have taken away meaningful living in this country. How many of us can rightly say that we have done a good day’s work (that is, work that really adds to the life of the community) on a daily basis? What happened to the worker who used to stand behind a cash register at a store? She used to know how to count, make change, converse with the customer in a friendly way, and send the customer off with the feeling that they were glad that they shopped at that store. Now the cashiers are robots, they are machine tenders. The machine does all the figuring while the automaton just pushes the start button. These people can’t even make change, the machine has to tell them what coins to give to the customer. Conversation? Not all cashiers can speak the language of the people, and of the ones who can, not all of them can hold a conversation or maintain a proper attitude. And this isn’t necessarily the fault of the cashier. They aren’t required to learn the language, or to count, or to be pleasant. They have been relegated to the job of “machine tender”. They are less intelligent than the simplest of machines. Can we imagine what is going on inside these people; how they must feel? Where is the pride in a job well done? Can these folks go home at the end of the workday with a sense of accomplishment? I won’t go into the deeper psycho/emotional issues here, but it’s much worse than most people know – or will admit. You see, one of the outward manifestations of what was just described is the feeling of fear, fear of being seen as one of this society’s failures. Most just deny that they feel anything; they stick their heads in the sand and try to convince everyone else that they’re “fine”. More Donkey dust.

War, anyone? Many years ago there was a folk singer by the name of Phil Ochs. He hated war as most people do, and he wrote many anti-war and other protest songs. One of the lines from one of his songs: “its always the old who lead us to the war, always the young who fall ……..tell me is it worth it all?” The man was a genius. He also wrote “Draft Dodger Rag”, a very good song about all the ways people try to get out of military service. Anyway, does it make any sense that we are so quick to go to war? I say, no. When you stop to think about it, you will see that the population of one country is not necessarily angry with the population of the other country. For example, how many Iraqi’s do you personally loath? Come on now, give me names. Right, I didn’t think you could. And, how many of the average Iraqi population hate you, or me? Right. Yet we have a big army over there and people on both sides are dying. Show me the reason. What if our army came home, no one gets killed on either side, isn’t this better? Duh. Okay, I’ve a better understanding of these things than most of you because I’ve been to war, Vietnam, and I lived among the average people for over a year. We got to know each other. Nobody hated anybody. All of us came to wonder why we were there. The official reason? We had to stop communism from spreading to the South. Gee, if the Communists get into South Vietnam, then the whole world is doomed, our way of life is gone. Donkey dust. Most of you know the story, we pulled out of Vietnam, North and South became one country (Hey, didn’t we Americans do that in the 1860’s?) and years later, through no interference by us, Communism failed as the overwhelming monster that we thought it was. Yup, lied to again by our leaders. Now that enough time has passed, documents from that era are surfacing with regularity. Do some reading, extrapolate the information to today’s military operations, and you will see some alarming similarities. Government Donkey dust, again. So says Sam Post.

Is Anybody Listening?

Sam Post — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 12:57:00 GMT

Well, no one can claim the hundred gallons of gas that I offered last time. Don’t you guys ever listen to the news? The answer to last week’s puzzler is: Olivia Newton-John. I bet even Google could have told you that. Oh well, I’ll have to use all that gas myself. I’ll use it in my scooter to get the most use out of it. It won’t be long before the gas prices will soar once again. I think that the politicians will use the gas situation to try to fool people into voting for them. They will keep lying up until after the elections, then we’ll get crunched again with higher taxes. This will increase the price of gas to over five bucks a gallon. This is just a guess, it might go higher than that. You see, politicians don’t have to worry about how the little folks are suffering “out there” because whoever is in office gets all their living expenses for nothing. Can you just imagine the presidential limo checking gas prices to find the cheapest gas station? Yeah, I’m laughing too. Actually, the Washington politicians have a great gig. They get all the goodies while they are in office, and then they get all their benefits, sometimes their full salary too, for the rest of their lives. What about the little folks? Oh yeah, they have to struggle with downsizing, job losses, higher taxes, higher prices on food, clothing, schooling, etc. The benefits? Who has a great benefit package these days? No one. How many times have you heard about people being fired (or, downsized) when they have nineteen years in the company? If they made their twenty year goal, they could retire with a benefit package to help pay for medical, food, etc. No doubt about it, the job market these days is all about paranoia; no one gets comfortable in a job these days because you never know when the axe will fall. And, you never know what criteria are going to be used to fire you. Gone are the days when you could do a good job for the company, display loyalty, go the extra mile, and take a real interest in the job. In times past a person was recognized and rewarded for having a good attitude, possessing and displaying their talents, and taking initiative. In the old days virtue meant something. Today, none of these things matter. If you have a job today, great, but you are always worried about tomorrow; there is no future to look forward to in this society anymore.

Pensions? Does anyone even know what a pension is? The last time I heard of a common worker getting a pension was in the generation before mine. If you put your time in (usually twenty, or more, years) you could count on a partial salary for the rest of your days. You could also get social security and you could work if you so desired. These days, the government has stolen the money from the social security fund and they have raised the age at which you can receive benefits. It used to be age sixty-five for everyone to get full benefits, now the age gets progressively higher. Most people in the work force now will have to wait until they are sixty-seven. But, according to the government, the social security will be gone by about 2038. And before that time, they plan on reducing payments to try to stretch out the remaining money. Sure isn’t a good feeling to know that you have worked for many years, paid into social security, paid all your taxes, have been loyal to your company, and then you can’t look forward to anything during retirement. It is a sad situation that most people today, knowing the aforementioned facts, realize that they cannot “retire” in the normal sense of the word. Most folks will work until they expire. As the old adage goes: Life sucks, then you die.

Many thanks to the folks who made comments last time. How come there are not more people commenting? Maybe it is the type of subject matter that I present. I wonder what type of subjects would get more people commenting. I know that questions and contests don’t draw much, because if they did, everyone would be getting great firewood, cash, and free gas. Without some sort of comments one gets the impression that they are speaking into outer space. The blog is just going out into the void of nothingness. Maybe, in a few light years, the blog will hit something out there and a response will come back. Oh, but that would mean that it would have to be deflected exactly in this direction. What if it were angled a tiny bit and the return message (comment) missed us by an inch? A cosmic inch. Maybe the moon would be in the right position to intercept the transmission. I think we should get a mirror up on the moon so that we can reflect these “comment beams” back to us so that we can “recomment”. Just a thought.

Yes, there are recordings by me that might be able to be heard on the internet. I don’t know how to put them on the machine; I’ll have to ask my wife to do that. But, I sense a danger here. I see that some of you folks out there can only contact the world by computer. This is dangerous. It would appear as if you have been cocooned and that the only way to communicate is through the internet. Even if you just watch more movies and get some time away from the computer, you would at least have some entertaining input instead of a steady diet of watered down, homogenized prattle that may or may not have any relevance for life. There is far more misinformation than good information on the net. Trying to cull out good from bad is a daunting task at best, and very much stress producing. And, lest you think that I am the lone voice in the universe espousing these views, I can recommend some reading material by some eloquent scholars who issue the same warnings. There are even psychotherapists who have specialized in their practices in trying to treat the addictions of the “net”. This subject is also addressed in psychology textbooks so that students who enter the profession will be apprised of the situation before they see it in their future clients. In fact, there is a short book on the market right now that speaks to the problems of stress and its management. It is called: Welcome to Stress Management by Dr. Richard F. Marsella. Though not entirely directed toward the computer or the internet, this easy to read book gives many suggestions for stress reduction as well as a thorough definition of stress. The book is in the major bookstores, or you can contact me since I am very knowledgeable about this erudite scholar and his writings.

I look forward to the many comments that will speak about the subjects mentioned here. Until I get more feedback, I dare not give out the next puzzler; I might get the answer to my question from some far off galaxy several light years away. How would I deliver any great firewood prize that far out? And, how would I know that the entity who answered correctly uses any firewood? Such a dilemma! So says Sam Post.

The Post Man Cometh

Sam Post — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 19:38:00 GMT

No, I haven't decided to start delivering mail. Let me start this episode by answering a few things from last time. On the question of failing to claim one's great prize, I can reassure you that there is no cry of "foul", I will simply store your prize wood for you so that at some future time, when you have a proper fireplace, you can come and get it. Alternatively, if you want to get your wood now, I would recommend that you pile it around the HVAC doohickey that you mentioned and when the weather turns really cold, you can light it up at that time. There is plenty of wood, so don't skimp on the heat. Your portion of the great prize will heat your home for many years to come. On second thought, better wait until your lease is up before you light the fire as described, and better leave one minute after you light the wood on fire. For Mr. Google, I will, of course, store your prize wood too. When we move to parts unknown, I will deliver your wood to your front door, free of delivery charges. This means, however, that you will have to use the back door to get in and out of the house, but then, you won't have to go very far to carry wood from the woodpile to the fireplace either. Such a deal!

Now for last week's puzzle. No one got the quote. What up with that? "Be on your merry" is a quote from the movie Serenity. It was spoken by Mal to Simon (the doctor) at the occasion of one of their numerous verbal altercations. Jeez guys, I thought one of you would get that one. What happened? Didn't Google have the answer? I'm reluctant to give you this week's puzzle. You realize that each week the puzzle gets more difficult, right? Too bad no one got last week's answer, the prize was $100.00 in cash. Oh well, at least two of you got some neat firewood. But, the cash prize will not be awarded because nobody even tried. I guess no one wants cash out there. Maybe this time I will award a hundred gallons of gasoline. Is anyone interested in gas for their car? Okay, I see a few hands up out there, so I'll give you the latest puzzle. From memory now, what is the name of the star in Grease who just got married? For extra credit, name their spouse. For more extra credit, what was the star's name in the show? For more, more extra credit, was Harrison Ford in the same show? For more, more, more extra credit, did I spell Harrison Ford's name correctly? Did George Washington have a white horse? How do you know? Wow! All those questions and all that gas, this is going to be the best contest ever. I'm just getting started with the questions; I've got a million of them.

None of you guys commented on my hilariously funny jokes that I included last time. You must still be laughing so hard that you haven't been able to respond to them. I know, I know, I get that all the time. During my years as a musician I used my jokes in my musical act. If we weren't getting any response from the audience when we sang a song, I would start to tell jokes from the bandstand. It worked every time. Someone would always jump up after the second joke and yell, "Sing". That's how I knew that they loved my singing. Oh, I forgot to tell you guys that I used to make my living on the bandstand? Yeah man, from age seventeen to about age fifty, I worked as a musician/entertainer. I started in New York, we worked every "toilet" from Manhattan to Montauk. (Basically, that's from the City to the end of Long Island.) I grew up during the 1960's and I knew the City very well. I saw the greats in the music business, some before they were "great". We went frequently to Washington Square to hang out with other players and we saw more talent there than you can imagine. In the clubs in the City we saw jazz greats like Herbie Mann and Kenny Burrell (Kenny was nineteen in those days!). On Second Avenue there was an Irish pub that we were told to audition at. We did Country and Western music at the time and some Irish music. This pub in the City was known for sending Country bands to Ireland for tours. You had to audition so that the owner could hear, and approve of, anyone that he was going to bankroll, so off we went to audition. When we arrived the owner wasn't there but there was another band auditioning. We sat down to listen. These guys were fantastic! They did one song where the lead singer "clucked" like a chicken - no lyrics, just clucking for the entire song. He played a bass fiddle while he did the song and the rest of the band, of course, backed him. We looked at each other and wondered how we would ever top this band's performance. Besides, Johnny Cash never clucked his way through a song that I know of. We never did get hold of the owner for another audition time. I would like to have gone to Ireland, but I guess it wasn't my time. Anyway, we worked at many seedy places and dives all over New York. It is interesting that you seem to find the most fantastic players in the most out of the way, sleazy places.

I remember one place on Long Island where the bandstand was riddled with bullet holes. I guess the patrons didn't like the music. I've heard of people throwing beer bottles at the band (you learn to duck at your music lessons) but shooting at the band? Some people take their music seriously! Another time, it was a very cold winter, and we were playing in a local saloon, corner bar type of place. The patrons were locals and represented every age group. There was a little old lady, maybe sixty-five years of age. Her light gray hair was frizzed out; she looked like Phyllis Diller after she stuck her fingers in the light socket. She was about five feet short, wrinkled, skinny as a rail, and drunk out of her wrinkled socks. She had gone to the ladies room during one of our breaks, the place was relatively quiet. When she came out she screamed, "Hell, you could get pneumonia of the blow hole in there!" I guess there was no heat in the ladies room, and she wanted everyone to know.

Not all of the places we played were dives; we played at some nice places too. As you may know, Long Island is the home of many TV and movie celebrities and they have many parties. We booked many of these parties and had the pleasure of entertaining many of TV's entertainers. We were booked by one of our agents to play in a large Hilton Hotel. The lounge was reserved for the Disco people and a very loud D.J. We were hired to play (there was only two of us) in the lobby. The lobby was big enough to land 747's. It was triple level and contained maybe one hundred tables where people waited to be seated in the dining room, or just rested from other activities. The management wanted us to play quiet, listening music for the people. We did as was requested but then some of the patrons requested us to play some folk music and some country music. They said that the Disco was too loud and smoky. We did as they wanted. The aisles started to fill with people dancing to our music. We really got into trouble when the Disco crowd started to find their way out into the lobby. We had pulled the bulk of the people out of the bar - maybe that's why we didn't get hired back the following month! You see, even when you please the crowd, you can still get into trouble.

When I think back over the many years I had in the music business I realize that it was a lot of fun. I met a lot of great people, I worked with Nashville stars, I worked the Alan Freed Rock and Roll Shows with many of the 1950's groups. I've been on live TV and radio, cut several recordings, and I've worked in the lowest dives in the dirtiest cities on Earth. I wouldn't change a thing. And if I had the chance to go back and do it all again, I would be even more enthusiastic because I would have the knowledge that I possess today. We always look back to see the good ol' days and we never see today and tomorrow as "good". Maybe we should regard what we are doing today as good. First, we will enjoy it more - positive outlook better than negative outlook - so we can be happier now, and second, so we can have something to tell others about in the future - about the good ol' days.

Well, boys and girls, I didn't plan on going into my musical past today, but it just sort of happened. I find that it is good to reminisce. It is like taking stock of who you are and where you have been. I tend to remember the good times more than the bad times. I guess that's because I survived the bad times. I'm happy to say that I was never shot at on the bandstand and I was usually hired back to play. That's a good thing, it means that I didn't screw up the first time I appeared. Life is mostly good. So says Sam Post.

Prizes Galore – Wood For Everyone

Sam Post — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 14:00:00 GMT

Bravo! What a wonderful job you guys did in figuring out my riddle from last time. I guess I’m going to have to split the grand prize though, for a few reasons. Number one, there were only two contestants. Number two, one of them cheated. There is no way that a person could know, offhand, the details of that song title, and the lyrics, and the name of the movie, and the singer. Somebody looked it up on Google, didn’t they? The other contestant has to get kudos and a prize for sheer enthusiasm. I felt your zeal as I read your response; you didn’t even take time to capitalize! No matter, I didn’t take off for grammar. The rules stated that the longest comment would win. Well, that means that Ms. Zeal wins; the other contestant, Mr. Google, had more facts, but the comments, though numerous, were very short. Then again, the suggestion for the grando prizo was a good one (free, upickitup fire wood) so he should get a prize for that suggestion. But, the rules also stated that for anyone to win, all of the people in the office had to comment. Did we lose a few employees? Are we down to a two person office? No matter, I’m awarding the grand prize to both our contestants. Both of you can come over here and share in the monstrous logs (see picture from last time) that can be used to fuel your homes to keep them warm and cozy for many years. I have even chopped them into smaller pieces (each maybe six feet in length) for you so they will fit into your cars. (What a guy!) I bet that all the other employees in the office are feeling bad now that they didn’t participate in the festivities. I probably would have split the prize to include everyone. Then everyone would have a load of firewood. Like they say, you’ve got to be in it to win it.

Now that I see that you guys are chomping at the bit for the next exciting contest, I’ll give it to you here. Who said, “be on your merry.” This could be a movie, oops, I did it again, I wanted to not make it so easy. Who said it, what movie, was there more to the sentence, who was it said to, and concerning what? C’mon, Emcee, I know you can do it! We’ll use the same rules as before. Everyone must make a comment (just ONE comment, thank you) and the longest, most fact filled entry will win another stupendous prize. How exciting (yay). As before, I’ll take suggestions for the prize. I’ve still got plenty of wood, so if you guys really want more wood, that’s okay. Cash prizes would be nice, but you guys don’t really have to pay me for running this contest this time, maybe next week ?. I’m thinking of including all of these contests in a future anthology. Should I call it “Bloganthology”, or “Ghostanthology”, or “Sam Postanthology”? There will be a prize for the best suggestion for the name of this grand writing. Of course, everyone who participates will get a free, autographed copy for their archives. Such a deal!

Now for an update on the tree. Remember the picture showing the part of the tree on the ground, and the other part still attached overhead? (Raise your hand if you remember) Okay. You remember that I told you that I had to rig it such that it would experience a slow fall. I didn’t want it to crash down and ruin the fence, or my hairdo. It worked well, it came down very slowly as planned and I was able to detach upper from lower so that the one part stayed up while the other came to rest quietly on the ground. So far, so good. Now it has been about a week since chopping the tree. The upper portion is still in slow fall. Very slow fall. The supporting trees are bending under the weight of the large tree and I figure it will touch down in about two years time. Each day I go out to measure the progress. It seems to be in slow motion. This is rather “cool” because, at some point, it will be low enough for me to chop more of the trunk above the rope holding it up without having to use a ladder. I am calculating how much the remaining trunk will spring and how far it will project the tree in the opposite direction when I cut the trunk. I figure that I can cut about another ten feet off of the tree that is protruding above the rope. Ten feet of this tree has to weigh (yes, I’m guessing, now) maybe five hundred pounds, three and one-half ounces (rough estimate). Of course, we must take into account that the tree is still attached to its roots, mangled, but attached. This would figure into the equation. Wind speed at the time, whether it is raining, whether I’ve had coffee, these are some of the many factors that will affect the slingshot effect of such an undertaking. If any of you out there can shed any light on the situation, I will grant another prize for the most accurate answer. That is, what is the distance, to the nearest inch, that the tree will spring back when I chop off ten feet of its length?

Nuff said about trees, time to leaves. (Get it? Tree, leaves?) I was going to be a stand up comedian, you know why? Because I didn’t have a chair! That’s an original, boys and girls, you heard it first, right here from the Ghost.

Saw a neat movie last night. Mad Money. A story, based on true events, about three employees of a government facility that destroys old money. The employees, suffering from the present dilemma (where do you find the “dilemmas”? Right next to the “dilimes”) that we are going through with downsizing, job losses, foreclosures, and such. The people get together and decide to steal the money that is scheduled for destruction anyway. Why not? Well they steal a lot of money, they get caught, and now they start worrying about who’s going to jail. Thing is, no one can prove that they stole anything. But, they get a lawyer who represents them all and he pretty well gets them off because the government can’t prove anything. Then the IRS comes in and says, “they didn’t pay taxes on the stolen loot, so we have them for tax evasion.” Then they cut a deal where, if they give the money back, then all is forgiven – no jail. Great, give it all back, they don’t gain, but they don’t go to jail, so that’s good. They make the deal; everyone is poor again, but relieved. Not quite. After all is said and done, the ringleader gathers her buddies to a hidden cache where she’s hidden lots of other money that the Feds don’t know about. Now they are happy again and they all go to other parts of the world to enjoy life. Happy ending. I know that all of us would like to be able to do something like this, get money for nothing, then lead a life of luxury, but what message is being sent to the young folks? That the clever people get the loot and the stupid ones go to work? That it’s just as laudable to steal money as it is to earn it by working? That it’s okay to overextend your finances (being irresponsible) and then you just go steal your way out of the trouble? Remember that the government was not able to prove that they stole anything, so that makes it okay to steal? In the beginning of the flick (it’s told in flashback modules) the main character says something like, “Well, I figure that there’s some criminal in everyone, so it’s okay to do what we did.” She says that we are all capable of doing crimes so that makes it okay to do whatever we want to do. Then, if you get caught, you lie your way out, or hire a lawyer to lie for you. After all, that’s what lawyers go to school for, to learn how to “win”, not to learn about morals. It isn’t about making a society better, it’s about technicalities, deception, lies, and winning your case. The more stories of this type that are spread throughout our society, the more we are teaching the citizens that winning, stealing, lying, and crime are equated with virtue, integrity, and hard work. Are we to learn from stories like this that work is for people who are not clever enough to steal?

Another flick comes to mind that I saw recently. This one was a martial arts movie about a Thai whose father is murdered by the Chinese and two of his elephants are stolen. This young man is filled with integrity. He goes in search of the bad guys, beats all of them with his Muay Thai (Thai kick boxing) and succeeds in getting his baby elephant back home. It was a little hokey in the movie making department, but it was refreshing to see the pride and integrity in the main character as he avenged his father’s death and saved at least one of his prized elephants. They had a bit of historical fact about how elephants, in the old times of war, were used and highly prized by the royalty of the time. The main character reminded me of Jackie Chan, only he was tougher. So says Sam Post.

I Talk To The Trees, But They Don’t Listen To Me

Sam Post — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 23:35:00 GMT

Look at the title, can any of you tell me where the sentence is from and what it is? If so, the first right answer in the comment section will get a great prize! And, the more supporting information that goes along with your answer will earn you extra credit. Such a deal! I'll give you a hint: I didn't make it up; this is real. Ready, set, go.

And now, an answer to my adoring fans (well, fan) out there in blogland. A question that was asked regarding my last blog concerning marbles, and the loss thereof. You see, "losing all your marbles", I believe, comes from the game of "marbles" wherein each player starts with a bag of marbles. A circle is drawn on the ground and each player places one of his marbles inside the circle. Each player then "shoots" his next marble using the thumb and index finger, and tries to knock the existing marble, or marbles, out of the circle. A successful hit will drive a competitor's marble outside the circle. The shooter now owns that marble and he continues to shoot until he misses, whereupon the next shooter takes his turn. Similar to popular card games, the tension builds as players win, or lose, money, or marbles. In the marble game, when you lose all your marbles, you have nothing to play with anymore and your stress levels undoubtedly are very high. So, to "lose all your marbles" could reasonably cause you to go insane. That's what I think anyway. Another related story concerns the seashore scenario mentioned in my last blog. This is a true story. There was an orator in ancient Greece (I'm not sure of his name) who would practice his public speaking at the seashore by putting pebbles in his mouth and then he would speak over the sounds of the Mediterranean Sea. He kept practicing with the pebbles because it was difficult to enunciate and this required him to form his words carefully to be understood. The sounds of the sea required him to develop his lung power so that he could project his message to the last person in the amphitheater. Thus, the orator, through this practice, was much sought after because he was able to relate his message clearly. Quite a commentary on the ancient civilizations. They used simple techniques and rudimentary speaking platforms. No amplifiers, speakers, or microphones. They used what Nature provided. They developed their talents; we "modern folks" waste our talents and try to cheat by using technology as a substitute. Time to send my toga to the cleaners; beam me up Scotty, there's no intelligent life down here.

And now, let's talk trees. This morning, before coffee, I stepped out into the backyard to let the dogs run and to admire our freshly cut grass. It looks like a golf green after it has been trimmed and I was satisfied as I viewed the sweeping vista before me until I turned to the left and saw a fifty foot tree broken in half and laying precariously in my yard. I didn't hear anything fall during the night so I was shocked to see this eighteen inch thick tree marring the landscape. Okay, a little background to help you understand the situation.

My property line is next to a vacant, thirty acre lot. It's owned by a private person, but he's never done anything with the land. There are huge trees, some a few inches from my yard and some about ten feet from my house. Simple arithmetic will show that a fifty-sixty foot tree standing ten feet from my house constitutes a danger to my abode. Especially when this particular tree died from vines encircling it. It started to rot and to drop branches within a few feet of the house. I contacted the owner and informed him of what was happening to his tree, and the danger to my house. He was unconcerned. I then wrote a letter, certified, yada,yada, telling him that, if the tree fell in my yard, or on my house, that he was liable and that I would certainly sue him because he refused to do anything about it. I documented everything with photographs, put all my copies together, and forgot about it. This was about three years ago. About one year ago, I came home from work and discovered that a large tree, also next to my fence, but about a hundred feet away from the rotting tree, was cut down. I can't imagine why these morons cut down a tree that was no where near my house and left a rotting tree, which threatens my property, standing. I think the term "dumb redneck" aptly applies.

Shortly after the time when I sent the letter to him, I sensed that he would rather be sued then to take care of the problem, so I opted to take some precautions myself. What good, I reasoned, is it to have the tree crush my house so that I would have to sue him, and of course we know that the courts are on the side of the criminals, so there would be no satisfaction, I would still end up with a crushed house that would have to be fixed. I thought it better to be proactive. I took a heavy rope and tied it about a third of the way up the tree and then secured it to another of his trees in such a way, that if the unthinkable happened, that the rope would cause the tree to swing away from the house. Well, the unthinkable did happen, and my rope worked perfectly. The tree broke and folded over itself. It even spared my four foot fence. Now, I'll spend the next two-three days chopping the vines and branches to clean the mess from my yard. But, at least the house is no longer in danger from this particular tree.

The clean up will be long and arduous. I'll take all the refuse and dump on his land, of course. The base of the tree still stands about twenty feet high, and the rope is still supporting it, but it is angled severely away from the house, so I'm somewhat relieved.

I have found that a two-handed axe is the best tool to deal with trees. If I had a heavy duty chain saw that would be a big help, but the venerable axe seems to be the best overall. Saws, especially in wet wood, bind terribly, whereas the axe has no such problems. Of course, you have to provide the horsepower from your muscles to be successful, no lazy way to use an axe. And, you would be surprised at how heavy wood can be. A tree of this size probably weighs close to two thousand pounds - more if it is saturated (it is). This means that I will have to chop it into smaller pieces so that I can carry each piece away. There are no shortage of vines; they cover every part of this tree and I think that they were holding the tree together for the last two years. I feel like Tarzan as I hack through all the branches and vines. This morning it took almost two hours to clear away the vines so that I could see the main trunk. Then I had to find what was supporting the tree and then I had to decide how to cause it to slow fall to the ground so that it wouldn't crash into the fence. Fortunately, I was successful with these things and the tree creaked slowly down to the ground. Then I started to clear the hundreds of vines still clinging to it. When I finally get everything cleared away, I will start chopping the main part of the tree that is sitting in my yard. The remaining part that is still standing on his side of the fence, I will leave there, hoping that it will fall one day, on his moronic, redneck head.

It rained, no, poured, this morning, so I had to take a break. I didn't want my twenty foot aluminum ladder to attract any of those lightning bolts - my luck runs that way. And you can bet that I had an extra cup of coffee this morning. One should never have to do this kind of work before coffee. Nothing in life happens before coffee!

Has anyone come up with an answer to my original query? Do you want another hint? He is very famous. Oops, I almost gave it away, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise so I won't reveal any more hints right now. By the way, what do you guys suggest for great prizes? And, what about second and third prizes? In point of fact, I don't know how many blog readers we have out there. If I offer three prizes, then everyone might get a prize. Get it? Only three blog readers? Maybe I should require that everyone has to comment before I will grant a first prize. I know, I'll give the first prize to the longest comment, and of course, all blog readers in the office have to comment too. Oh yeah, no fair in cutting and pasting Bible Reader as your comment. You will have to come up with original comments to win. So, the rules are, everyone must comment and then the prize will go to the longest comment. Ready, set, go. Isn't this fun! So says Sam Post.

Weather It Be

Sam Post — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 13:23:00 GMT

I like weather. Understand that when a sailor says the word, weather, he is talking about bad weather. You know, storms and such. There isn’t much use in talking about a sunny day, that should be a default weather pattern. No, people who enjoy the sea must learn to accept all of Nature’s different moods. Not that we enjoy being blown around and drenched with waves, but we learn to accept whatever comes and to deal with it.

And it is stressful. But it’s real stress, not the phony kind that we find living in a bureaucratic society like this one. When Nature starts whipping up the waves and making things uncomfortable, sailors must pay attention. No one should underestimate the natural elements, they will kick your butt! However, after the storm, there is serenity. If you have paid attention to what you should have done, then you reap the rewards of a triumphant victory. You get to pick up all the stuff that used to be on the shelves in your boat. I remember a day, maybe ten years ago, when I took a friend and her dog on the sailboat for an afternoon’s cruise. It was a little rough, but not too bad. The sailing was great because you need a good breeze to move the boat and we had it. Unfortunately, the breeze picked up measurably and the waves exceeded eight feet in height. The crests were no more than fifty feet apart. It became very uncomfortable. We were a couple miles from shore so there was no way I could just move away from the turmoil; I had to deal with each wave while I steered as much as possible to the shore. And it was growing dark. Fighting the waves is trouble enough when you can see them coming, but when it gets dark, you can’t anticipate when the next wave will pummel the boat and throw you off balance. I had the tiller in hand and was doing okay under the circumstances. My friend, however, had turned a very odd “green” color and she lay sprawled in the cockpit, wishing I think, for death to rescue her. The poor dog had sought refuge in the cabin below and had become so seasick that she vomited on the cabin sole. She was “green” too. The boat was pitching to and fro in a frightful manner. Everything that wasn’t lashed down was thrown about in the cabin. Even the table was torn loose and it was on the sole mixed in with the cabin contents and dog vomit. I couldn’t go below because I had to steady the boat as best I could while trying not to get seasick.

And now we come to the best advice you’ll ever get on not getting seasick. When on a moving boat (or any vehicle, for that matter) look at the horizon and never, never look away. If you do this, you will avoid the worst aspects of motion sickness. Do not look down, that’s the worst thing you can do. Remain looking at the distant horizon – no matter what – and you’ll fair well. Knowing this, I knew I had to look at the horizon and other distant objects. I did this. And then I did the next thing to allay sickness – I sang. Under the conditions mentioned you can imagine the noise and confusion of the situation. Since I couldn’t leave the tiller I had to make things as comfortable as possible. I figured this would be a good time to practice my singing. You see, one must be able to project one’s voice over any ambient noise and one must be able to concentrate on the vocal production, otherwise, in concert, you would not be heard. I began to practice show tunes and an operatic piece that one can never practice enough. I sang to the wind and waves; I sang to Neptune and Nature; I sang so I wouldn’t puke. It was good practice.

There was a man who desired to speak publicly. He knew that he had to be heard over the crowd and that there would be no sound system to amplify his voice. He went to another famous public speaker and sought his advice. The mentor told him to go to the seashore with a bag of marbles. He told his student to fill his mouth with the marbles and to speak to the sea. He had to enunciate his speech so he could be understood in spite of the fact that his mouth was filled with the marbles. The noise of the waves on the sand only made this task more difficult. The student was serious and wished to accomplish what his mentor dictated. The mentor further instructed that on each day he went to speak with the marbles in his mouth that he take one marble out, so that each day there would be one less marble to speak through. “Then,” said the mentor, “when you’ve lost all your marbles, you’ll be a good speaker!”

You are probably wondering what a stormy sea has to do with losing your marbles. Maybe only marble-less people like stormy seas? Could be. I’ve always liked the warmer weather; that’s why I moved to Florida from New York. Actually, the overall plan was to live on my boat in Tahiti. Florida was just a small first step. I still dream about living in Tahiti but I doubt that I’ll ever get there. I’ve heard that it isn’t as nice as it used to be. Forty years ago, when I first wanted to go there, the island was little touched by bureaucratic morons. There was a native culture; there were real issues, real living. Now from what I hear “civilization” has crept in to ruin the area. In the old days, you had to sail there. There was the feeling of accomplishment in just making the trip. Now you just hop on a plane, there is no feeling of accomplishment, unless you feel that buying the plane ticket is an accomplishment. The weather here in Florida is similar to the south sea islands (not exactly, but close) so I can find a palm tree and look out over the sea and pretend. So says Sam Post.

View From The Scooter

Sam Post — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 14:30:00 GMT

With the price of gas soaring into the stratosphere I am really happy to have purchased a 50cc scooter. Yes, it's hot out there, but when you're moving, it is very comfortable. When you stop for traffic signals, however, it's "instant sweat time". I can only get about 45 mph going downhill with a tailwind (not my own) but that's okay. I find that going faster than 45 mph is kind of useless on most roads anyway. The scooter is legal on all roads except I-10. It is not powerful enough for the big highways; it would need a larger engine to produce more than five brake horsepower. Fine with me. If I need to go on the interstate, I'll climb aboard my super huge pick-up truck and go as fast as necessary - while I'm burning about sixteen mpg. If I had my way, I would use the scooter for all my traveling while leaving the truck for the heaviest loads.

I haven't ridden a bike in forty-three years. I expected it to be somewhat arduous when I straddled the scooter for the first time, but, as people have always said, "You never forget how to ride a bike." It is true. As I moved the scooter I felt as if I had no break at all in riding motorcycles. It came back as naturally as breathing air (mixed, of course, with carbon monoxide and other poisons that we've polluted our environment with - don't get me started!). I was delighted to find that my body fit right in with the leaning and balancing and general feel of riding. Nowadays, I wear a helmet and goggles all the time; safety is very important. In the old days I wore a black leather jacket (with all the zippers) and a black beret and sunglasses so that I would look as "cool" as possible. Helmets were only for the track. I don't feel the need to impress anybody these days - or to compete. Now I just enjoy the ride, get to my destination (slowly), and take comfort in the fact that I'm getting a little over a hundred miles to the gallon.

Just a quick note on alternative power sources: if I ever put together another bike to utilize something other than gasoline as a fuel, I will only make one. It would be impossible to invent and develop something that could be used for the public because the government (which includes the major car manufacturers) and the oil industry, would squash the idea. Let me give you a couple examples. First there was Preston Tucker. There's a great movie, based on his life, called: Tucker, the Man and his Dream. It recalls the life of this innovative man as he comes out of the second world war seeking to start a company to help the public. During the war he produced vehicles and gun turrets for the Army. After the cessation of hostilities he turned to making automobiles. He designed and built better cars than were available at the time. In fact, in today's cars they are just starting to include features that were standard in a Tucker. His work was done in 1948. He built fifty cars. Then the government and the big three auto makers shut him down; they couldn't compete with him so they put him out of business. Out of the original fifty cars, there are about forty of them still operating. There is a green Tucker in the Tallahassee car museum if you want to see one "in the flesh". He had many better ideas - that worked - so why didn't everybody support him? They didn't because the government doesn't want competition. They would rather keep constant control over the public - even if their antics kill the people, which they do.

More recently, when everybody was talking about building electric cars, a problem developed in the prototypes of most entries. The batteries just couldn't hold enough of a charge to let the cars have adequate driving range to be practical. There was a man in the northeast who developed a better battery, it could hold a charge longer. It was the "answer" to the overall problem. What happened? He was shut down by the government, his tools, plans, and prototypes were confiscated and he was told that he was not to build anything more.

There is a documentary called, Who Killed The Electric Car? It tells the story of a manufacturer in California who produced a number of electric cars and then leased them to people to see how they would work. The people were delighted with the cars. At the end of the lease agreement most of the people desired to pay the agreed upon amount to purchase the cars. They were denied. They tried legal means to force the company to comply with their contract. Nothing worked. The company recalled all the cars, including stealing some of the peoples' cars who refused to turn them in. The company took all of these cars to a wrecking yard and crushed all of them into junk. The people tried to block the trucks, they carried signs, they did whatever they could think of to try to keep their electric cars. Evidently, these cars were excellent and the people wanted to own them. Guess who ruined this good deal. Watch the documentary. It illustrates that the blame is spread out in several different areas: the government, the major auto makers, the oil industry, and several others.

Okay, so that wasn't really a quick note, but, I told you not to get me started! It really annoys me that people, like Uncle Bush (actually, it's all of the politicians) get richer every time we drive one of our gas guzzling vehicles. That's bad enough, but, as the preceding paragraphs point out, they refuse to let people do anything to help themselves. If you want to build a better mousetrap, build it for your own use and don't let anyone else know about it. Sounds a lot like a communist country, doesn't it?

Back to the scooter. It is amazing that, from the vantage point of the scooter, I notice more of the cars and trucks that are constantly whizzing by me. The majority of them are huge, gas guzzling SUV's and pickup trucks. I feel like I'm in the middle of Detroit. The cost of these giant vehicles is enormous and they get terrible gas mileage, and they are always going fast, which means they are burning even more fuel. With the escalating gas prices, wouldn't we expect to see more scooters and other economical vehicles? Instead, we are seeing more gas guzzlers. In spite of the fact that the car companies are having a more difficult time selling Hummers, SUV's, and other impractical vehicles, the roads seem to be clogged with them. No matter, I travel at thirty mph, enjoying the scenery, being safe, getting a hundred miles to the gallon. I wonder if the gas prices will keep climbing. If so, it will be interesting to see what the automobile manufacturers will do in response to people not buying the gas guzzlers. Will we see GM and Ford producing scooters? So says Sam Post.

Biker Days, Past and Present

Sam Post — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 14:12:00 GMT

I’m feeling a little nostalgic today so I’m going to depart from my usual subject matter and speak about activities dating back to the early 1960’s. Things were much better in those days. A person was free to think and to create. Things and people mattered, there was a measure of pride in a job well done. Talent was recognized and revered. A person could make plans and dream as big as they wanted and you could, if you put in the blood, sweat, and tears, make those dreams come to fruition. When I was in high school my mode of transportation was, like most kids, a bicycle. Of course, like most kids, I sought to improve my mode of transportation in terms of speed, power, and accommodation. I saw an article in Mechanix Illustrated (that’s a magazine devoted to inventions, neat ideas, tools, and innovative thinking) that showed how to take a regular bicycle and a lawn mower engine and make a scooter. It had ten inch wheels, simple construction, and it could go about thirty mph. It was called a “Beats Walkin’.”

I built this scooter and learned many things about welding, metallurgy, sprocket ratios, calculations to determine speed, and that I had become public enemy #1 as far as the neighbors and cops were concerned. Nobody wanted to hear the lawn mower engine going up and down the street on the numerous test runs that I made. Undaunted, I continued to build more small bikes until I started to design my own. The culmination of the designs resulted in a racing minibike that I took to the dragstrip where I succeeded in beating a Willy’s jeep in the quarter mile. Now that I had a taste for speed, and by now I was nineteen years old, I purchased a series of motorcycles that led to my fastest bike, a Harley Sportster. After some motor work (It was bored, de-stroked, altered racing gearbox, custom made carburetor, custom valve lifters, custom made rear wheel. I know somebody out there is going to ask about the motor work) the bike set track records in its class. On one day I actually got Top Eliminator, meaning that I beat all the bikes and all the cars running that day. The final run was against a “rail job” (That’s a slingshot dragster. You know, long chassis of thin rails, giant engine, huge wheels with slicks on the back, loud enough to wake the dead). Initially, I had no chance of beating this car because he was turning times and speeds that no street machine could achieve. But, as the Christmas tree lights came down, and we were allowed to go, his car “blubbered” off the line, giving me a slight edge. If I did everything perfectly – no mistakes – I had a chance. It worked. The race track gods were smiling on me that day, and I came home with two trophies, one mounted on the handlebars (like Marlon Brando did in The Wild One) and the other strapped to my back. I was happy that day.

Then the Army intervened. They wanted me to go to Vietnam. The bike went into the garage to wait the two years that had to transpire before I could get back on the block. When I did come back I had a family, a cat, a dog, and a mortgage. No time for riding. I needed to go to work forty hours a week. There was a weekend gig too. Bills have to be paid and work has to be done to pay them. The bike collected dust until, finally, I sold it to a friend of mine. Parting with it was like having a member of the family move away. In time, the pains of separation waned, but I still have the memories, the newspaper articles, some photographs, and, until recently, a room full of trophies to remind me of those great days of riding and racing.

Since those good times in the 1960’s I’ve not ridden any kind of bike. Now, though, Uncle Bush has caused the gas prices to go through the stratosphere. Driving a regular car has become outrageously expensive. It’s time to revisit some of the things from my past. I’ve got ideas from back then to create minibikes with alternative fuel sources. I didn’t pursue these ideas in the past (gas was about twenty-four cents a gallon) but now it seems almost a necessity. Until I do decide to dig out my plans from the old days, I’ve made a rash decision. We will purchase 50cc scooters. This we did about a week ago. They are slow but that’s okay, the main thing is that they get great gas mileage. From my initial calculations, we should see about 135 mpg. That is very good and it will take “only” about six dollars to fill the tank (it only holds about one and one third gallons). In the old days it would take about thirty-five cents to fill the tank. As I said, things were much better in the 1960’s. So says Sam Post.

Criminals As Main Characters

Sam Post — Thu, 29 May 2008 16:57:00 GMT

So you liked my last blog about movies? Let’s mention some more popular movies and point out some interesting things. The movie, American Gangster, is out now and I highly recommend it. It stars another two of my favorite actors, Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington. The movie is based on a true story. The bad guy (Denzel) is a major drug dealer and murderer. He was responsible for thousands of people ruining their lives with the drugs that he sold them. (Yes, I know that anyone stupid enough to “do” drugs can take the blame for their own problems, but dealers just enable druggies to hasten their demise.) He shoots people on the street in front of many witnesses; there’s no doubt who did the crime. To make matters even more interesting, he ships the drugs from China, through Vietnam, to the United States in the coffins of dead American soldiers. Throughout the movie we see him dining in fancy restaurants, purchasing real estate, and moving his extensive family into fine living quarters. He meets, and marries, a beauty queen, Miss Puerto Rico.

His adversary, the cop (Russell) is as honest as they come. He turns in money that they find in criminals’ cars, alienating him from the rest of the cops who tell him to put the money in his pocket and not to report it. We see him dining on a tuna sandwich which he makes in his dwelling. He’s got troubles with his wife, visitation problems with his son, and he’s studying to be a lawyer in his spare time.

Russell is eventually put in charge of a drug task force of specially picked under cover cops and is told to get rid of the drug problems in New York/New Jersey. The story continues with lots of action until, finally, they catch and arrest Denzel. Story over? No way. Denzel starts to deal with Russell, promising him rewards, etc. Russell says “no”, and grills Denzel to get to other drug dealers. Sound good. At the end of the movie, however, they have those short paragraphs telling the viewer what happens to each of the characters. Denzel plea bargains and gets seventy years in jail, but he only serves fifteen years and that, not consecutively. Let’s see, he murders people in broad daylight, smuggles drugs into the country, sells those drugs to thousands of people, bribes cops, and his punishment, according to our laws is: fifteen years? Russell, after finishing his law studies, takes his first client: Denzel! And, what about the police force? Well, three quarters of the cops were on “the take”. It’s not known whether the remaining twenty-five percent were “good” cops, or, maybe nothing could be proven. How could anyone possibly raise a child in a society like this? You teach the child right from wrong; teach him to have integrity, and then he goes out into the world and finds true stories like the one in this movie. Where is the reward in being “good”. Movies like this one show that “crime pays” for the criminal, and most of the cops are criminals too. How confusing!

Another of my favorite flicks is the Ocean’s series, especially Ocean’s Eleven. It’s fictional (I think) and lots of fun to watch. But, the whole story is based upon thieves and robberies. The robbers are very charismatic and the story is told from their point of view. What messages are we sending to the youths? That’s it’s fun to plan and execute robberies? That no one really gets hurt? That the leader of the robbers always gets the girl?

There are many films dedicated to Jesse James, William Bonny, and many other criminals. We idolize these characters. How about Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, or Machine Gun Kelly? Criminals all, but everybody knows these characters well. In the fictional department, who has not seen the Godfather series? Though the stories are fictionalized, they are based on real characters. This author is acquainted with some of the things that really went on back in those days. The subject of our “Italian brothers” is an interesting one, especially as told from their side.

Maybe next time, if you’re good, we’ll talk a little about the role of the police in our society. They are not there in the capacity that you think they are. So says Sam Post.

For All Jodie Foster Fans

Sam Post — Thu, 22 May 2008 13:33:00 GMT

There are some actors/actresses that seem to be miles above the average. Clint Eastwood, Arnold, Olivia Hussey, Jodie Foster are some of my favorites. Actually, I have quite a few favorites. I could name hundreds of Hollywood people from the 1930’s to the present that I enjoy watching on the big screen. When I think of any movie that I’ve seen Jodie Foster act, I remember it as a great movie. If she’s in the cast, I know I’ll love the movie. Who could have done such a wonderful job in Silence of the Lambs? The latest movie that I saw Jodie cast was entitled: The Brave One. Again, a magnificent movie. If you have not seen this flick, let me give you a few highlights.

The character is a New Yorker just living her life like all the rest. She has a boyfriend, very much in love, gonna marry him, yada,yada. They take a walk in the park, they get mugged, boyfriend dies, she is badly beaten, but eventually gets healthy. Here’s where the movie starts to take form. The cops take their reports and, typically, do nothing to find the culprits. She gets really annoyed with them and starts to question them as to what they are doing to avenge her dead boyfriend. They tell her the same stale crap, “we’re doing everything that we can do.” In a nutshell, they are doing nothing, as I said, typical. She stumbles onto some clues that could be used to solve the case and she gives this information to the cops. Of course, they do nothing. Finally, she goes to buy a gun for protection, gets turned down, and gets one from a guy in a back alley. She goes out to find the bad guys. She is warned by the cops to stay out of it; they start watching her. She gets into a few tight spots where the neighborhood scum try to rob/rape her. She blows them away. Slowly, throughout the movie, she finds out who the bastards are and hunts them down. She eventually kills them all. The cops are still clueless. The one top cop who has been watching her shows up at the last minute to help her out but the point of the whole movie is that, if you are in trouble, you’re on your own. There’s nobody but you who is going to make things right, or to prevent a crime. The cops are only there to harass the good people, and to protect the criminals, and to make reports after the crime is committed.

There was a series of movies with Charles Bronson some years back called Death Wish, 2,3,4,5. The Brave One reminded me of this great series. Same scenario, crimes are committed, cops do nothing but eat donuts, the main character has to track down the bad guys and dispatch them. But, he’s got to do it undercover, or the cops will arrest him.

We need more cops like Dirty Harry. When you deal with the scum of society, you have to jump down in the sewer to get them. They are not going to “play by a bunch of silly rules” so you can put them in jail where they can live better than their victims.

Do we see a pattern here in these movies? I know that when a writer/screenwriter produces a story for the cinema, they pick hot topics that are of relevance to the viewing public. Otherwise, who would go to see it? (Okay, so there are some weirdoes who will watch anything!) The recurring theme of crime at all levels of our society pervades the majority of movies. Obviously, somebody is trying to tell the public something. Something like: “Wake up and smell what you’ve been shoveling” when you support the criminals, and punish the good citizens for protecting themselves. So says Sam Post.

One Possible Solution

Sam Post — Thu, 15 May 2008 16:01:00 GMT

Thanks for tuning in. Obviously, you are among the few people out there who care, at least somewhat, about the mess this society has become. To refresh your memory (just in case it needs refreshing – no, the “refresh” button on your computer will not do it), here are a few highlights of the present dilemma.

For every law that exists, there is another law that contradicts it. This society condones and encourages criminal behavior on all levels from the lowest street crime to the highest levels of industry and government. Many years ago I heard a question posed: Why is stealing against the law? Answer: Because the government doesn’t want the competition. We always regarded this question/answer as a joke, now I think it’s dead serious! It is well known that the way to tell if a politician is lying is to see if his/her lips are moving. We have emasculated our police, our teachers, and our parents. Even the existence of God has been challenged. We are a lawless (in spite of the thousands of ludicrous laws in libraries of law books) society that has become barbaric. American society today has become the worst kind of malignancy. We are barbarians in $1000.00 suits. We have reduced ourselves to the base level of “bread and circuses”; this society is declining into oblivion. That’s a sampling of the bad news.

So, where is the hope? It’s in the people. It’s in the good folks who still possess the ability to think; to understand when they are being screwed; to exercise common sense. The way up to the fresh air is to find our way back to the way it was when we first set down rules for this new country. We need to look back to the times when things were better. Sure, we’ve had criminals, idiots, and politicians since the beginning. I’m not saying that the past was without fault. I’m saying that the proportion of good to bad was in our favor in the past. Today, the bad (societal insanity) is fast taking over the good. We’ve had many examples in past societies to show us what to do. Take, for instance, the Roman Empire. It had great things, and it had terrible things. We could learn from such examples if we wanted to build a better world, all of them. I don’t see that we are interested in taking a good example.

The Romans built many things that were great (like viaducts, sewers, among others) that still exist. They also roamed the Earth killing and conquering until they became fat and lazy. Then they were conquered. Maybe if they had stayed in Italy and defended their land without trying to oppress the whole world, the other armies might not have wanted to snuff them out.

There are plenty of similarities between Rome and America, just look around. If we want a better society, all we need to do is learn from the mistakes of civilizations that have gone before and, go back in our own short history to see when things were better, and then revisit some of these good things. Then we would see progress. Notice that the hardware of society outlasts its’ inhabitants. This is because, when you’ve got something good (like Roman sewers) you stick with it, then you see forward movement (like the modern toilet) (no pun intended). If you change things, like all the meddling that we do with people’s integrity, you get retrograde movement (constipation) and, finally, destruction of the inhabitants. The result: Planet of the Apes. Note: No animals, especially apes, were injured in the writing of this blog. Side effects may include nausea, vomiting, blah yada, blah yada, …. you know the rest. So says Sam Post.

The Next Round of Stupidity

Sam Post — Fri, 09 May 2008 22:23:00 GMT

I had an interesting conversation with my car mechanic this morning. As he was changing the oil in my car we chatted about things mechanical. I always listen to people who know more than I do, so when we’re talking about cars with a car mechanic, I ask questions to gain some of his wisdom. We were discussing the longevity of cars and what could be done to get maximum mileage. Getting so many miles to the gallon is a hot topic these days but how long your car can be expected to last is something that has always been of interest to me. If I can get my car to last a half million miles, I want to know what I can do to make this happen. I don’t want my car to wear out because I’m doing something to ruin it. So, I engage whatever experts I can find in conversation.

I told him that I always drive carefully, never spinning the wheels, no short stops, no speeding, and no undue acceleration. I drive with the flow of traffic, I pay attention to all sides, front, and back of my car all the time. I exercise courtesy whenever I can. For example, if I see another car behind me blink his lights (a universal request) I will move over to let him pass. I’m trying to exercise good driving skills and courtesy, but I’m also saving my car’s long term existence. The mechanic listened to all this, agreed with me on all points, but then he alerted me to a new “law” that has been enacted recently. He said that driving safely and courteously, as in the way I described above, could get me a ticket for – road rage! I asked him to explain what he meant because this sounded like the most idiotic thing that I have ever heard. Has this society gone so far down the toilet that driving safely equals road rage? He explained to me that if I was driving at, say, the speed limit in the left lane, and someone else is speeding up behind me, that I would be in his way and he would get the road rage because I was there. So, it could happen that I could be cited because someone else is breaking the law. What about the speeder? Now, understand that I’m not talking about an emergency vehicle going to help someone. I’m talking about average drivers just speeding. I wonder what’s going on in this apathetic society. It appears that the folks who take pains to stay within the rules, are being singled out for punishment. The scofflaws in every segment of our society are seen as normal. Or, could it be that the ever-growing legions of criminals (of all types) are sending a message? Are they saying something like, “Hey, stupid Americans, when are you going to learn that all your idiotic laws are wrecking the lives of the people that they are supposed to protect?!” Want a positive solution? Tune in next time when Sam Post will reveal how to undo this madness. So says Sam Post.

India Technology

Sam Post — Thu, 08 May 2008 13:42:00 GMT

I blogged last week about my dissatisfaction with customer service calls being outsourced to India. Yesterday I received an email with pictures that I wanted to pass along.

THIS IS INDIA. IT'S WHERE YOU CALL WHEN YOU HAVE A TECHNICAL PROBLEM WITH YOUR COMPUTER.