Monthly Archives: January 2006

Monday Woes Indeed

Ouch! Right in the shorts!

My wife called me just a bit ago. “Oh, I’m mad,” she said. “I called that dumb CableOne place to see why our bill is so high. They raised our rates eighteen dollars a month!”

“You gotta be kidding me!” I expostulated. “That’s not fair! They didn’t tell us they were going to do that!”

“I know,” agreed my beloved Viennese Snowflake. “The lady said it was explained on our bill.” We have it set up so they just take the money out of our account; we’ve gotten out of the habit of reading our bills unless there’s a price change. “We must have missed it.”

So, we’re paying almost twenty bucks a month more for the same service we’ve always had. I’m upset that they didn’t warn us better – they could have sent us an e-mail, or mailed us a flyer, or sent a message through the TV menu, all of which they’ve done before to tell us about deals they offer. So now I’m going to find a way to reduce my bill by twenty bucks. I just don’t wanna pay it!

We use the Internet quite a bit (I update and maintain several websites, and we spend several hours a day on the net for various other activities – ordering digital photo prints online, doing the occasional crossword, reading the news, blogging, etc.) so we’re loath to lose our high-speed cable modem. I’d switch to a different company or go to DSL if I could, but all the research I’ve done tells me that CableOne has a monopoly in my area – I have no option. I’m constantly getting junk mail from Qwest and Earthlink offering me high-speed DSL, but neither seems to want to deal with my neighborhood. It may be simple logistics (I think you have to live next door to the phone company for DSL to work), but I really wish I had an option. If anyone in Sioux City knows of any other high-speed Internet providers in the area, please let me know!

That leaves me cutting twenty bucks worth of programming, which doesn’t bother me in the least. I pay about that much to get the Science Channel, which I enjoy, but they really only show three shows a day – they just repeat those three over and over again. I can live without the Science Channel. I’m just sad that they raised the rates without any warning…

Upset, I am. Upset. Kinda like pulling up to the gas pump with five bucks in your pocket, putting five buck’s worth of gas in your car, then finding out at the cash register that they raised the price of gas while you were standing in line and you now owe them seven dollars.

Iowa Tobacco

I just read on the Woodbury County Democrats’ blog that Iowa House Speaker Christopher Rants received $138,497 from RJ Reynolds Tobbacco’s political action committee. Mr. Rants has been consistently blocking state legislation to raise the tax on cigarettes. The cigarette tax increase is supported by a majority of Iowans, and is also supported by our governor. It seems, though, that Mr. Rants is getting enough money from tobacco companies that he doesn’t need to concern himself with issues in Iowa any more. He certainly does not represent me or my values.

We gotta remember stuff like this when we go vote.

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A whole Sunday’s worth of thinkin’

The Poll Star

I woke up this morning just in time to hear the TV proclaim, “Sixty-five percent of Americans support wiretapping phones to prevent terrorism.” No kidding. To say otherwise would be to appear unpatriotic, especially to those on the Republican side of the room. That poll is misleading, and has Carl Rove’s fingerprints all over it.

What would your answer be? “Do you believe the U.S. government should use electronic surveillance to track Al-Queda activities?”

How about this? “Do you believe the U.S. government should be able to place wiretaps on American citizens’ phones?”

Or this? “Do you believe the U.S. government should be able to illegally eavesdrop on your conversations with neither search warrant nor reason?”

Personally, my answer to the first question is yes. To the second question, I’d answer an unequivocal “Um, I dunno.” To the third, I’d answer “No, and any government that would try should be removed – it smacks of Nazi Germany or the cold-war-era Soviet Union. We don’t do that here.” (Unfortunately, though, we do do that here. Now what are we going to do about it?)

My point here is that it is my contention that out government is twisting public opinion through vaguely-worded polls. They’re doing this to bolster U.S. President George Walker Bush’s image in defense of his policy of spying on American citizens. They’re doing it to get Judge Sam Alito nominated to the Supreme Court. They’re doing it a lot. Unfortunately, the other side does it too. When you see one of those “quick polls” flash up on the TV screen, please don’t believe it until you analyze what the results really mean.

Do I support anti-terrorism? You betcha! Do I support a sneaky government putting bugs on my phone? Heck no. Please, ask me that question in a meaningful manner and make me think.

The Best Ex

I saw former U.S. President Jimmy Carter on TV this morning as I was slurping my daily cuppa coffee (Cub Food generic instant – try it, it’s really good). Mr. Carter has always impressed me, but, as has been pointed out myriad times before, he may be a better ex-president than he was a president. Since leaving office, he’s done a LOT for charitable causes, has written numerous books, and has won the Nobel Peace Prize for his work overseas. Clearly a man who thinks.

Mr. Carter disagrees with Mr. Bush’s policies.

Cleaning Day

Today is cleaning day at our house. Dagmar’s been busily dusting, straightening, folding, washing, moving, and cleaning for the past three hours or so. I’ve been busy working on a project on the computer. So, no more time to blog right now… With luck I’ll be able to write more in a few hours. I have things what need sayin’ – some important, others not so important.

If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Lotsa Pictures

Things that make me happy…

As always, you can click on the photos to see a larger version. All the photos are either at my brother’s or in my neighborhood, such as it is. I like taking pictures. I put my camera in my “cigarette pocket” so I have something to fumble with when a craving hits. It’s worked well so far, though I’ve driven most of my friends and family batty by constantly flashing my camera at ’em.

The beloved Goddaughter.

A nice picture of my wife, my brother, and his kids.
Five of my favorite people in one room. Cool.

Things that make me sad…


Graffiti at work. It’s all over the neighborhood, including on my back door.

They tore out all the trees to widen Perry Creek, but the garbage is still there.

This is a park just around the corner from my house.
If you look closely, you can see a pretty “KEEP OUT” sign in the background.

Here’s a nifty barbed-wire fence around the company kiddy-corner across the street from my house. It makes me sad that they feel they need barbed-wire in my neighborhood.


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Friday the Twenty-Seventh

Hooray for Me!

Yesterday marked my six-month anniversary. No cigarettes for six whole months. Half a year. Oddly enough, it’s getting easier, though I still have some mighty powerful cravings. The good thing is that the cravings are relatively short. Most of the time if I distract myself for just a few seconds I’m fine.

It’s still hard to drink beer, though. Luckily enough, I don’t drink beer all that often.

Elections

I was watching the news yesterday as they reported the Palestinians electing Hamas into power. U.S. President George Walker Bush seemed pretty flummoxed by that turn of events. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but I heard him say something like, “Democracies don’t start wars.” Tell that to Iraq. He also said something to the effect of “No government dedicated to the eradication of another nation should be recognized,” meaning that the U.S. will not recognize Hamas because of their desire to take over Israel. I guess Bush’s own administration didn’t really eradicate Iraq, they just took it over and rebuilt it in it’s own image…

Something that I found interesting was that there were a bunch of people there watching the elections, making sure everything was fair. Outside observers. We need those. We absolutely, positively need to have outside observers at the polls in our next few elections – especially 2006 and 2008. Most especially 2008. I think the Democratic, Libertarian and Green Parties should get together and make sure there are United Nations people hanging around the polling places. I never thought I’d see the day when the United States of America would need outside observers to make sure our elections are fair, but that day is here. It was already too late in November, 2000. And much too late in 2004.

Common Sense, Ain’t It?

We should pay our politicians differently. They should get paid the average salary of their constituency. They should get two weeks’ vacation a year in their first term, three weeks vacation in their second. If they take more time off than that, it’s unpaid. They should get the same medical benefits (or lack thereof) their constituency gets.

We’ll fly them back and forth to Washington D.C. a few times a year for free (coach) – if they need to travel more, well then, they get to take their own vehicle. We’ll give them eighteen cents a mile or whatever the going rate is, but they must get the trip okay’d first. Actually, now that I think of it, maybe ALL government travel should be by public transportation or military transport (not the fancy kind – the kind enlisted men and women in uniform use). Maybe that’d make the trains run on time…?

I’ve worked at the same job for twelve or thirteen years, and I get no retirement package, no 401k, nothing. Why should our politicians? I’m not sure what retirement package (if any) they get now, but I do NOT think working at a job for a mere four years should count for much. Granted, we’ll provide ex-presidents with whatever security they need, unless they make more than, say, $250,000 a year on their own. Then they can afford to take part of that responsibility on.

Just a few rather grouchy thoughts on a nice Friday afternoon…

If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Art, Lungs, and Neighbors

Art with Dirty Fingernails…

Hoo boy, that was fun! Yesterday Dagmar and I wandered uptown, donated some old clothes to Goodwill, and headed to Historic Fourth Street for a nice frosty beverage.

“Do you tink ve’ll be able to find a place to park?” my beloved asked me. “Dey have the Swap Meet at the Convention Center, the new motorcycle exhibit at the Art Center, und there’s a rodeo or something at the auditorium.”

I shrugged. “I dunno. You know what bothers me, though? They plan all these things to happen on the same day, but yet they tore out the only parking lot in the area and built yet ANOTHER movie theater there. Now there’s really no place to park.” By this time we were on Fourth Street, scanning back and forth. There are at least six bars on the two blocks of Historic Fourth Street, and three or four restaurants, not to mention the other shops and stores. It’s a busy place. Each establishment has three, maybe four parking spaces out front. So, there really is no place to park… And of course, there are the people who actually live in the apartments there, too – they need to have somewhere to park, too. So I wasn’t surprised when we couldn’t find a place…

“We can park in there,” said Dagmar, pointing to a private parking lot. “They let people park in there when the business is closed.” So, without further ado, I pulled into said parking lot and parked. “What do you vant to do?” asked my wife as we got out of the car.

“Well, I was thinking of having a beer and calling the Okoboji guys to see if they want to go to the Art Center when they’re done at the Swap Meet,” I said. A couple times a summer I try to hook up with the Okoboji contingent of the Vulcan Riders and Owners Club to go scoot about the countryside, terrorizing innocent gas station attendants with our nasty habit of stopping every thirty miles or so for chocolate milk and twinkies. I suppose I could hang out with the Omaha guys, but the Okoboji guys treat me nice and I’ve already learned some of their names, so I hang out with them when I can. “It’d be nice to see them,” I added.

“Dat sounds nice,” my beloved said, leading the way to the nearest drinking establishment. “Who came to Sioux City?”

By that time I was on the phone… “Hi Streak, this is HippieBoy…” (Ever notice that if you get a group of five or more guys together for more than half an hour, they’ll all come away with nicknames? Why is that?) I confirmed with Streak that they were indeed going to head to the Art Center and made plans to meet them.

“Which ones came to town?” Dagmar asked again, signaling to the waitress. “Rock?” I nodded. “Bartman?” I nodded. “Streak?” I nodded. “That guy with the hat that never says anything?” she asked. I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “I just know the three of them are here. I thought Kioti was here, but maybe not.” About that time our frosty beverages appeared at the table. Mine was beautiful, golden, bubbly, and had a lemon floating on the top. Dagmar’s was some evil-looking concoction of a thimbleful of beer mixed with about two gallons of tomato juice and olives. (Yes, she puts ketchup on her steak, too.) We put our attentions to our drinks for the next few minutes, paid our bill and headed for the door to meet the guys.

“Shall we walk,” asked my wife. “I doubt we’ll find a parking place again…”

I nodded assent and up the street we strolled, hand in hand. A mere four or five blocks later we were at the Art Center. I had to suppress a grin when we went through the front door – the lady at the desk looked like she was about to have puppies. I doubt she’d seen so much leather and so many bearded gents in one room before… We paid our ten bucks (never had to pay at the Art Center before, oddly enough), found Streak, Rock and Bartman wandering around the atrium, and off to the bike exhibit we went.

It was well worth seeing! They had a good number of bikes on display – most borrowed from local people (I was happy to see my buddy Ed Anderson’s chopper there). The majority of the bikes were either old-school choppers or the newer “half-melted” choppers that are popular today. About a third of the bikes there were old Indians, antiques, drag racers and bikes deemed historically or artistically important. All of ’em were pretty! I am going to make it a point to go back again and take more time – we got there at four and the Center closes at five, so we were a bit rushed.

“Where’s Streak?” I asked as we wandered out of one of the third-level exhibits. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Oh, that poor man,” answered Dagmar. “He has de flu.”

I looked over the railing and peered down to the atrium, just in time to see a green Streak bolt for the restroom. “Oh.” I said. “Poor guy…”

With that we wandered down the stairs to the atrium, where we eventually hooked up with Bartman and Rock. By this time the green Streak was sitting on the bench, looking a shade or two paler than before.. So we all sat there for a while, gawking slightly slack-jawed at the bikes around us until we all wandered over to the door and started on the four-block trek back to the Convention Center. (By the way, if you poke at the pictures with your mouse they get bigger and you can actually see what they are.)

“Where’s Kioti?” asked my Austrian Snowflake. “He’s usually around somewhere if you guys are here.”

“He and his wife were here earlier,” answered Streak. “They had their grandkid with them, so they didn’t stay long.”

“What about dat other guy?” asked Dagmar, stepping off the curb. “That guy who wears that hat and never says anything. Where’s he?”

“Oh, Mag? He couldn’t make it. Neither could Bonzzo.” We fell to talking about various members of the informal group until we got to the Convention Center, where the Okoboji guys bid us a nice fare-thee-well and tootled off to get Streak back home before he started turning colors again.

With that, Dagmar and I wandered back to our car and headed off to Da Kao, where we proceeded to munch, nibble and slurp our way through a Vietnamese soup and a Mongolian beef ‘n onion concoction. (Why do they give you chopsticks with soup?) It was a good day!

Lungs

“Do you have a smoking history?” my doctor asked, poking through my paperwork.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I just quit about six months ago.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I remember now. You were at a pack a day, weren’t you.” She riffled through my paperwork some more. “I just want to make sure that the pneumonia has cleared up,” she continued. “We’re going to have to take an X-ray…” She busied herself listening to my chest with her half-frozen stethoscope, and I busied myself breathing deep. “Well, your lungs sound clear,” she said. “How did it go with the quitting smoking?”

“It sucked,” I answered. “I took those no-smoking pills for a while. I gained a little weight, too.”

“I noticed,” she said. “Well, it’s better to be overweight than to smoke.”

It wasn’t until I was sitting in line, waiting for my X-ray to be taken, when that last phrase filtered through my remaining brain cells. Overweight? Me? What? I used to wrestle at 105 pounds… In high school. How can I be overweight? Sure, my belly’s been pooching over the top of my britches lately, but I am pushing forty after all… Don’t I get some sort of credit for that? Hmmm…

“Next,” hollered the X-ray lady, breaking my fat-centered reverie. I made my way through the procedure and went back to the little waiting room to cool my heels until the doctor remembered I was there.

“Hey, Chris, come here and look at this,” said the doctor, poking her head in the door. I grabbed my coat and followed dutifully along to the place where you look at your X-rays. “This is your lung,” she said, pointing to a blob. “Everything looks good, except for this.” She pointed to a shadowy line on the blob. “I think what happened is that your lung may have collapsed or compressed when you had pneumonia and hasn’t quite expanded back to normal yet. It looks like that’s just a bit of flattened-out lung there.” I nodded while she continued. “Or it could be scar tissue. That happens sometimes. But, with your history of smoking…” I felt the blood drain from my face at this point. “I’d like you to come back in again in a month for another X-ray. If that spot’s gone, good. If it’s still there, it’s scar tissue. If it’s bigger, we may not have gotten all the pneumonia… Or… Well, let’s hope it’s not bigger.”

Spooky.

Good Neighbors

I just got a phone call from my dad. Seems the guy who lived a farm or two down the road from the family farm passed away yesterday. Good guy. When I was growing up I walked beans for him and I spent a lot of time playing with his kids… I was always impressed with the whole family’s work ethic. It made me sad to realize that I’ve not seen any of those particular neighbors since I graduated from high school twenty years ago.

If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Pork Chops from Heaven

Gastronomic Delights Abound!

My wife and I tried a new recipe for supper tonight. The following is a letter I e-mailed to America’s Test Kitchen, a group of intelligent-looking people who have a cooking show on Public Television. (The recipe in question can be found on their website.)

————

Hello…

My beloved Viennese bride and I have been watching your show every week on Iowa Public Television for a few years now. Generally, I watch the show simply because as a musician I’ve usually been out playing my bass in various clubs until the wee hours and I need something gentle to gawk at in my slack-jawed way on a weekend morning. My wife, however, comes from more refined stock than I – her family has been running restaurants in Austria and throughout Europe for generations. She knows fine food when she sees it. (My idea of a fancy meal in a restaurant is getting something I don’t have to unwrap myself.)

In any case, after years of watching your show, we decided to take the plunge and actually try one of your recipes. The show that inspired us so was “Porkapalooza,” or something to that effect.

“Are you vatching dis?” my Austrian Snowflake asked, nudging me gently in the ribs. “Look – they’re cooking a pork chop. You like to cook pork chops. But look – dey don’t use Tabasco Sauce, und nothing’s on fire.” I gamely tried to focus both bleary eyes on the TV. Indeed, when you guys cook there’s no smoke. Odd.

“That does look good,” I said. “Wait. Did they just put ANCHOVIES on a pork chop? Ew… That looks miserable!” I looked over to see my wife taking notes. “Can we substitute ‘anchovies’ with ‘Little Smokies’ maybe?” I asked hopefully. “No,” she replied. “Now hush.”

A week later, armed with chops, anchovies, vinegar, etc., my beloved bride headed to the kitchen. I took my appointed position in front of the computer. “Pork Chops with Vinegar and Sweet Peppers,” read the recipe on your web site. My job, full of responsibility indeed, was to call out the directions. My wife’s job was merely to do the preparing, cooking, cleaning, thinking, measuring, and all that stuff. Eventually my better half came trotting proudly out of the kitchen, steaming plate in hand. She set the plate down on the table. We sat down, staring at the plate. “Vell,” she said. “Try it.”

Hands slightly a-tremble, I applied knife and fork to the chop in the time-honored manner. “Do you want the first bite,” I asked. “You cooked it.” She shook her head and motioned for me to hurry up and eat. At the first bite all thoughts of ketchup fled. I sat, slowly masticating (which is not as obscene as it sounds, honest – you can look it up if you don’t believe me) and sighing in awe and glee. “Vell?” my vife asked. “How is it?” I looked at her, wide-eyed. “MMmmmm-mm-mmuuurrrf,” I told her, “Mmmuuunnngllee mmeierrggg nnnog.” My wife looked at me. “Goot?” she asked. “Does dat mean it’s goot?” I nodded enthusiastically.

I don’t know how you guys did it, but through the miracle of that recipe you have transformed the lowly pork chop into a slice of heaven! It’s a thing of beauty. Truly. We finished eating hours ago, and we’re still talking about those chops. I find myself saying things like, “such a delicate hint of spice on the back of the palate,” and “the roundness of the acidity counteracts the squareness of the sweetness nicely,” like I know what I’m talking about. But gee, that chop was good!

So good, in fact, that we’re probably gonna end up buying your cookbook. And another can of anchovies.

Thank you!

If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Just a few photos

This is a picture Dagmar took out the car window
whilst on a trip to Primghar with her mother.
It’s proof that there is indeed a summer…
Fruitloop, the wompus cat extraordinaire.
If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Mid January Blues

Anyone Remember Summer?

It seems like we’ve been 38 degrees and cloudy for about three years now. We have had variations, so I can’t complain – some days it’s been 36 and cloudy, other days it’s been 39 and cloudy. I aimed my bloodshot peepers at my photos of summer and was surprised that it’s only been winter for 2 months. Only 17 more months until spring…

Here’s a pretty picture of the mighty Platte River – biker buddy Dan and I paused here on a motorcycle trip last August.

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It’s a GOOD day!

Finally!

Former United States Vice President Al Gore stood in front of the nation and the world on Martin King Luther Day and declared that President George Walker Bush acted illegally and called for an independent counsel to investigate the president’s use of unwarranted wiretaps on U.S. citizens. Bush appointee Alberto Gonzalez, the U.S. Attorney General, plans to testify to the Senate in the next month or two, giving the administration’s legal justification for the wiretaps.

“A special counsel should be immediately appointed by the attorney general to remedy the obvious conflict of interest that prevents him from investigating what many believe are serious violations of law by the president,” said Mr. Gore. Later, on a nationally televised talk show, Mr. Gonzalez said he didn’t know why there would be a need for a special counsel. Mr. Gore continued in his speech:

“We still have much to learn about the NSA’s domestic surveillance. What we do know about this pervasive wiretapping virtually compels the conclusion that the president of the United States has been breaking the law repeatedly and insistently… A president who breaks the law is a threat to the very structure of our government.”

The administration’s response came through Republican National Committee spokeswoman Ms. Tracey Schmidt, who said, “Al Gore’s incessant need to insert himself in the headline of the day is almost as glaring as his lack of understanding of the threats facing America.” I find that odd as I’ve not heard anything from Mr. Gore in years – he hardly seems to be a headline-grabber.

The American Civil Liberties Union and the Center for Constitutional Rights are also planning lawsuits against the Bush administration regarding the wiretap issue.

My source for all this is Reuters. (Interesting side note – my spell-checker saw “NSA” and tried to change it to “Nazi.” Somehow I wasn’t surprised. It’s easy to get them confused these days.)

If you’re reading this on Facebook, you can see the original blog at www.radloffs.net, click on “Blog.”

Graffiti Sucks


Tagged

Well, I’ve finally been hit. For the past year I’ve been taking pictures of graffiti in my neighborhood. I guess it was my turn. They got my back door. Not bad, but bad enough that I’ve filled out an on-line police report, and I need to re-paint my door. (It was on my to-do list anyway, but I was hoping to wait until a nice warm summer afternoon to do it…)

Some people may wonder what’s so bad about graffiti… Well, there are several things. The first is that it takes time, money, and resources away from the neighborhood (which is struggling anyway). Every time someone gets tagged, someone else has to take time off work, go out and buy paint that may or may not match the wall, take the time to re-paint the affected area… The secondary effect is that buildings that have been tagged often lose resale value – who wants to buy a target? A tertiary effect is that graffiti acts as a blight on a neighborhood. It saps our pride.

The following are a few of the photos I’ve taken around the neighborhood. Record Printing (where I work) has been hit four or five times in the past year – I’ll spare you the photos of that.

My back door, January 16, 2006

My neighbor’s garage, January 16, 2006

A block and a half up the street from my house.

The same building as above.

Same building, front view, different day.

Across the street from the last building…

The same fence after the “fix.”

My neighbor’s garage…

Same neighbor, same garage

Different view…

One last shot of that garage…

This is the garage next to my neighbor’s garage…

Why tag a dumpster?

I’m not real sure what this building is… It’s just a block west of my house.

This one’s been fixed. It was like this for about a month, though.

This isn’t graffiti, but it upset me anyway. Someone broke my fence.
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