I am making final arrangements for Da Jersey Blogmeet, which will take place on April 2, 2005. Click on da button on da left for da details. I have to provide the food guy with a final headcount on Thursday morning, so if you are interested in attending, let Kate or me know by midnight, Eastern Time, on Wednesday.

Dat’s all.

HAPPY EASTER!!

Self-Promotional Easter Note: Those who have been coming around here for less than a year may have missed my take on the Easter Bunny.

Until yesterday, I had never heard of NAUPA. It is the National Association of Unclaimed Property Administrators, which is an association of state treasurers, and similar state officials, who administer unclaimed property in each of the states. NAUPA offers a free search tool, which directs you first to the appropriate state site, which then permits the entry of a name to determine whether the state is retaining unclaimed property belonging to someone with that name.

I learned about it after a friend of mine in Hawaii went to the site and discovered that the states of Hawaii and New Jersey were holding unclaimed property belonging to his decease brother-in-law and deceased aunt, respectively. He had written to me, because he thought that he also had found the name of my deceased mother at the Jersey site.

I went to the NAUPA site and navigated to the New Jersey Unclaimed Property Site, and determined that the person in question did have the same first name as my mother and was from the same town, but had a different address. However, I was sufficiently intrigued to pop in the surnames of grandparents, and up popped the name and address of an aunt, who is very much alive, but who had moved away several years ago from the address listed for her in the search result. I dropped her a note directing her to the site, which contains the instructions for making a claim.

You might want to give it a look. One never knows.

Yes, six days into the meds, and I am feeling much, much better, thank you. In fact, I feel about 90% normal, which is quite amazing, given the way I felt last Monday. I have benefited from lots of horizontal and comfortable chair time, aided by a stack of books– generally potboilers, rather than any heavy-duty stuff — to help pass the time.

So, you ask, “Yo, Jimbo what was wrong? Enquiring minds want to know.”

Well, let’s just say that it was an infection (of unknown etiology) that I have experienced twice before over the last dozen years, and it resides in a spot where no male wants to have an infection. Its symptoms? Let’s just say that, while sitting or lying absolutely still (and properly “supported”), things are OK, but moving around or (gasp!) standing up requires a bit of mental preparation for the surge of pain that would normally accompany a swift kick in the stindeens. (Ladies, it may not be the pain of childbirth, but it’s gotta be right up there.)

Indeed, today, I feel well enough that I might even do a bit of regular posting later, now that I don’t have to deal with the “Holy Shit!!” moment that previously would have been part of standing up. In fact, tomorrow, we will be heading off to daughter’s house for a MAHvelous Easter dinner.

I want to thank everyone for sending me their best wishes in comments, e-mails and phone calls. I read the comments and e-mails during the brief periods of standing in front of the computer, which were part of side-trips on the way to the bathroom. I was moved and inspired by them. And, as for the comments left by these three smartasses these three friends of mine, which made me laugh when I didn’t feel much like laughing, let me stress that I did not, do not, and never have had a venereal disease, but thanks for the laugh. Of course, I may personally serve you bastards with process in Jekyll.

I was supposed to be on a flight this morning to California for a business trip. Instead, I found myself at the doctor’s office being treated for an extremely painful infection, which kept me from travelling and will keep me away from the keyboard for a couple “horizontal days” while the meds kick in.

The timing of the onset was fortuitous, because had I gotton on the plane, I probably would have to have been wheeled off the damned thing and then suffer this in a hotel room.

I’ll be back when I feel a bit better.

This is a tragic case.

Here’s what I said about it in 2003, and I feel the same way today.

Update: Thanks to Randy and Enlighten for letting me know that the link was screwed up. I think it’s better now.

The following are three pictures taken from the USS Honolulu, a Los Angeles Class, Fast Attack Submarine. The pictures reportedly were taken approximately 280 miles from the North Pole.

The boat received visitors:

Picture One

Picture Two

Picture Three
Very cool.

Thanks to my friend and bodyguard, Ken, for the pics.

I got a phone call from this guy just as I was pulling into the mondo liquor store parking lot this afternoon. I was there to pick up some stuff for Easter and for the Post. I sat in the parking lot on the cell phone as we spent about a half hour talking about blogging, booze and music (mostly guitar players).

As a rule, I don’t behave responsibly in liquor stores, much to the delight of my credit card company, but this was supposed to be a trip to buy booze for other people, not for me. However, after spending all that time talking to my Georgia friend about booze, I wound up tossing a couple bottles of primo bourbon in the already-way-too-full cart – for me.

Oh yeah, the real purpose of the call was to figure out why I cannot leave a farookin’ comment at his site. We never really got around to talking much about that.

Just Damn!

Of course, there is absolutely nothing good about comment spam. We all spend an inordinate amount of time trying to block it, and, once spammed, to quickly dispatch it to the cyber trash bin.

I do, however, find it curious that these shithooks think that the little messages they insert into comments really would fool someone into believing that it is a legitimate comment and not delete it. After all, these little love notes are intended for bloggers, and I doubt that there is a blogger on the planet that would be fooled by them.

What I find even more curios is that the persons with the sophistication to figure out how to create spambots that can distribute nine gazillion comments with one mouse click can’t manage to put one or two reasonable sentences together.

Here are a few examples that I cut and pasted directly from some of the actual “comments” I have received. As such, they are exactly as they appeared in comments section.

Comment: Lovely, I must say, there is not so much themes, which deserve a comment. This one is realy needful

Damn, I had always thought that I did have realy much themes. I’ll just have to work harder, as I do not wish to write needful posts.

Comment: 228 there is not enough time in the day, I dont even know where to start.

How about starting by telling me what’s with the “228?”

Comment: Funky days. Been browsing too long. Like your design simple but effective.

You’ve damned sure been doing something too long. Do you have hair on your palms?

Comment: I love your site. It´s really a pleasure to read through all this interesting stuff and it home.

Yep, it home just fine thanks.

Comment: It´s really a great joy being here. Your site is a varied mixture of the latest news, specified information and activ power.

Thanks, buddy. I avoid unspecified information like the plague, and I do strive for activ power, because inactiv power is hell on one’s bowels.

Comment: Hallo you! Great site. I found exactly the information I was looking for. I will recommendyou page to all my friends.

Hallo you too. I’m really happy that you will recommendme page to your friends, who most certainly live in a place where they have to cut their food with tongue depressors.

Comment: I do like this blog a lot. thanks for keeping all the spammers off it

Thank you. irony must have been your major at the home.

They’d be funny, if they weren’t so gott-damned hateful.

Lately, there seems to be a bit of an upsurge of people impersonating police officers in connection with the commission of serious crimes. There are also those instances where the impersonator is arrested, but it is not readily apparent why the person decided to pretend to be a cop.

It’s the latter instance that reminded of a brief episode that took place when I was probably about seventeen years old.

My friend and I were in his car just cruising around the town on a Saturday afternoon. It was common to drive up and down the main street, which ran through my hometown, as well as one town to the south and three towns to the North. We would cruise on the same street through the five towns for hours on end, listening to the radio, shooting the breeze, and trying to look cool. We were young, and gas was cheap.

On this particular Saturday, after several hours of this mindless back and forth on Main Street, we became hungry and took a turn off the main drag to the part of the town where my friend lived so that we could go to “Big Nick’s Pizzeria” for a soda and a couple slices. The place was aptly named, because Big Nick was pushing 500 pounds, but I digress.

Parking was tight by Big Nick’s place, so my friend parked in front of a fire hydrant near the pizzeria. As he was turning the ignition off, the conversation went as follows:

Me: “I don’t think we should park here.”

Friend: “Waddya mean? We won’t be here that long.”

Me: “There’s a cop over there, and he is watching us.”

Friend: “Where’s the cop?”

Me: (pointing) “For Chrissakes, he’s right there on the sidewalk. He’s twenty feet away and he’s looking at where you parked the car.”

Friend: (pointing) “You mean him?”

Me: “Yeah. You better start the car before he starts to write a ticket.”

Friend: (laughing) “Don’t worry about him. He’s not a cop. That’s Sookie.” [rhymes with “rookie”]

Me: “Sookie?”

Friend: “Yeah, everybody around here knows Sookie. He’s not all there, but his thing is dressing up like a cop. He doesn’t bother anybody, so nobody pays much attention to him. Besides, if you look closer, you can see he’s not a real cop. Check it out. He’s wearing black sneakers with holes in them and he’s got no gun.”

Me: “I can’t believe that the cops haven’t arrested the guy, or at least give him a hard time.”

Friend: “Nah, they all know Sookie means no harm. They leave him alone. No, wait! There was one time that he got himself in a little trouble. Skippy the cop must have dropped his book of summonses; Sookie found it and was walking up and down the street “ticketing” cars. When Skippy saw what Sookie was doing, he took back his Summons book and raised hell with Sookie. Supposedly, Sookie told Skippy that he was sorry and it wouldn’t happen again, and that was the end of it.”

I have no doubt that Skippy had to explain to his boss why a bunch of summonses were missing from his book, but I also have no doubt that Skippy’s boss knew Sookie and that’s where it ended.

Sadly, this would never happen now. Today’s “Sookie” would be cuffed, and arrested and would wind up in the lockup until someone bailed him out. Counsel would be appointed for him, and he would either have to plead or face a trial and a sentence. Some group would then surface claiming that Sookie’s rights were violated by the police and sue the town. The press would be all over it. The case would probably wind up in the Supreme Court.

I liked it the way it was.