Saturday, December 26, 2009

For you, Lucya -- With Love

ARTIST: Trad and Anon
TITLE: Plastic Jesus


Well, I don't care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

{Refrain}
Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

I don't care if it rains or freezes
As long as I've got my Plastic Jesus
Glued to the dashboard of my car,
You can buy Him phosphorescent
Glows in the dark, He's Pink and Pleasant,
Take Him with you when you're travelling far

{Refrain}

I don't care if it's dark or scary
Long as I have magnetic Mary
Ridin' on the dashboard of my car
I feel I'm protected amply
I've got the whole damn Holy Family
Riding on the dashboard of my car

{Refrain}

You can buy a Sweet Madonna
Dressed in rhinestones sitting on a
Pedestal of abalone shell
Goin' ninety, I'm not wary
'Cause I've got my Virgin Mary
Guaranteeing I won't go to Hell

{Refrain}

I don't care if it bumps or jostles
Long as I got the Twelve Apostles
Bolted to the dashboard of my car
Don't I have a pious mess
Such a crowd of holiness
Strung across the dashboard of my car

{Refrain}

No, I don't care if it rains or freezes
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
But I think he'll have to go
His magnet ruins my radio
And if we have a wreck he'll leave a scar

{Refrain}

Riding through the thoroughfare
With his nose up in the air
A wreck may be ahead, but he don't mind
Trouble coming, he don't see
He just keeps his eyes on me
And any other thing that lies behind

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Though the sun shines on his back
Makes him peel, chip, and crack
A little patching keeps him up to par

When pedestrians try to cross
I let them know who's boss
I never blow my horn or give them warning
I ride all over town
Trying to run them down
And it's seldom that they live to see the morning

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
His halo fits just right
And I use it as a sight
And they'll scatter or they'll splatter near and far

When I'm in a traffic jam
He don't care if I say Damn
I can let all sorts of curses roll
Plastic Jesus doesn't hear
For he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Once his robe was snowy white
Now it isn't quite so bright
Stained by the smoke of my cigar

God made Christ a Holy Jew
God made Him a Christian too
Paradoxes populate my car
Joseph beams with a feigned elan
From the shaggy dash of my furlined van
Famous cuckold in the master plan

Naughty Mary, smug and smiling
Jesus dainty and beguiling
Knee-deep in the piling of my van
His message clear by night or day
My phosphorescent plastic Gay
Simpering from the dashboard of my van

When I'm goin' fornicatin
I got my ceramic Satan
Sinnin' on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
The women know I'm on the level
Thanks to the wild-eyed stoneware devil
Ridin' on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Sneerin' from the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Leering from the dashboard of my van

If I weave around at night
And the police think I'm tight
They'll never find my bottle, though they ask
Plastic Jesus shelters me
For His head comes off, you see
He's hollow, and I use Him for a flask

Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Ride with me and have a dram
Of the blood of the Lamb
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Voice from the Animals

Advice from a Squirrel:

Look both ways when you cross the road:

Plan ahead:

Stay Active:

Eat plenty of fiber:

Spend time in the woods:

Go out on a limb:

It's okay to be a little nuts

Voices of the Soldiers

“Merry Christmas, My Friend” by LCpl James M Schmidt, USMC, 1986

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,

In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give

and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,

no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.

On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,

a sobering thought soon came to my mind.

For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.

This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,

so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.

And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,

Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,

Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.

Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?

Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.

I soon understood, this was more than a man.

For I realized the families that I saw that night,

owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,

And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,

because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,

on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.

Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.

I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,

"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.

My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,

I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.

I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,

and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.

Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,

with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,

and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,

this guardian of honor so willing to fight.

But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,

said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,

Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

I think there's been a disaster.

Voices from the Past

**True Story of Rudolph**

A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing.

Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer.

Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad's eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears.

Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob.

Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was
different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in he Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938.

Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined a make one - a storybook! Bob had created a character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling.

Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose.

Bob finished
the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there.

The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print,_ Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book.
In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn't end there either.

Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to
Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore , it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of "White Christmas."

The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Computer Roll Call

Allyson Dell Dimension 8400 P4-3000HT
Keith DIY XP2800
Troy DIY XP2100
Jennifer Gateway CX210X Tablet T2050
Blair Dell Dimension 2400 P4-2400
Maureen Dell Inspiron 3500 PII-300
Talsyn IBM ThinkPad570 PII-366
Paladin IBM ThinkPad600X PIII-500
Miss Otis HP Omnibook 500 PIII-750
Dell Dimension 4100 PIII-933
Dell Dimension 4100 PIII-733
DIY XP2600
DIY XP2100
Motherboard Only Athlon64 3400 / PC Chips M861G
Motherboard Only Socket 462
DIY K6-2/500
Elvira DIY K6-3/450
Compaq PIII-600
Epson Apex Plus 8088
Aurora Dell Latitude C600 PIII-750

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Christmas Village -- 2009

Here's some photos of my Christmas Village for 2009.



The fire department is responding to "cat in tree."


The choir is singing in the village center.


The Bedford Falls Express passes by the Kellison House and Santa getting ready to stop by another home on his yearly rounds.


The Mission and the Observatory both look up into the night sky for answers.
On the left, the fire department is next door to the tavern.


Father and son scan the night sky for Santa.


An admiring audience listens to the choir singing.


The postman and the flower lady meet on the street.


Santa making a stop, kids decorating the dog's house, the deer eating the snowman's nose.


The sleigh awaits it's driver.


People stopping to visit the Manger.


Time to rescue the kitteh!


The Village from on high.


The tree store at night.


The Mission welcomes those seeking answers.


Silhouettes against the darkness.


A townhouse, the Kellison House, and a country home look cozy waiting for Santa.


Another aerial view.


Catzilla (Zee) rests by the sledders after another romp through the Village.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Consumer Protection Infomation

The Consumer Action Website has the addresses, phone numbers and web sites for City, County and State consumer protection agencies. If you are haivng a problem with an item and the manufacturer won't help, this is the place to go for further info.

Windows 7 Keyboard shortcuts

These are from the Windows Secrets newsletter. If you run Windows, you need to be on this newsletter. Sign up at WindowsSecrets.com

Win7's Windows-key combinations speed up opening system tools, navigating between files and apps, and performing other common tasks. (Note that many of these shortcuts work in XP and Vista as well.)
  • Win+Pause: Displays the System Control Panel applet.
  • Win+D: Shows the desktop.
  • Win+Spacebar: Shows the desktop without minimizing open windows (Aero Peek).
  • Win+E: Opens Windows Explorer with Computer selected.
  • Win+F: Opens a Search window for finding files or folders.
  • Win+Ctrl+F: Opens a Search window for finding computers on a network.
  • Win+G: Cycles through Gadgets (if any are installed).
  • Win+L: Locks your computer or switches users.
  • Win+M: Minimizes all windows.
  • Win+Shift+M: Restores minimized windows.
  • Win+P: Chooses a presentation display mode.
  • Win+R: Opens the Run dialog box.
  • Win+T: Cycles through and previews programs on the taskbar.
  • Win+U: Opens the Ease of Access Center (Utility Manager in XP).
  • Win+X: Opens the Windows Mobility Center (which isn't installed by default on desktop PCs).
  • Win+(numbers 1 to 5): Starts the program pinned to the taskbar in the position indicated by the number. If the program is already running, it switches to that program.
  • Win+Shift+(numbers 1 to 5): Starts a new instance of the program pinned to the taskbar in the position indicated by the number.
  • Win+Ctrl+(numbers 1 to 5): Switches to the last active window of the program pinned to the taskbar in the position indicated by the number.
  • Win+Alt+(numbers 1 to 5): Opens the Jump List of recently accessed items for the program pinned to the taskbar in the position indicated by the number.
  • Win+Tab: Cycles through open programs by using Aero Flip 3-D. (You must have Aero working; Win7 Home Basic and Starter don't use Aero.)
  • Win+Ctrl+Tab and then Left or Right Arrow: Opens Aero Flip 3-D to cycle through open programs.
  • Win+Ctrl+B: Switches to the program that displayed a message in the notification area.
  • Ctrl+click: Pressing Ctrl while clicking a taskbar icon will scroll through multiple windows of that icon's application.
  • Win+Up Arrow: Maximizes the window.
  • Win+Left Arrow: Docks the active window to the left half of the screen.
  • Win+Right Arrow: Docks the active window to the right half of the screen.
  • Win+Down Arrow: Minimizes the window.
  • Win+Shift+Up Arrow: Stretches the window to the top and bottom of the screen.
  • Win+Shift+Left or Right Arrow: Moves the window from one monitor to another.
  • Win+Home: Minimizes all but the active window.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Target -- a Blake's Seven story

He lay against the cold stone wall of the building, holding tightly to the energy rifle for the little warmth it afforded. The night grew colder and the rifle wasn't enough to keep him warm on the roof of the building overlooking the street below as he waited for his target to come out of the restaurant.

It wasn't that he wanted to be here, he really had no choice since the Federation was holding his family hostage until the job was finished. He was told that they were all right in a good place, and kept safe until his return. He knew the planet well as he had done a few jobs there during what he called his "other life." Before he met Cora. Then, the two children. An assassin's life wasn;t one that could be shared with a family. First, it was diapers, then baby food, and finally school. He stopped accepting off planet jobs, then quit all together. He held a good job and the house was almost paid for, until the day they weren't home and he saw the message left on the machine. He really had no choice.

He felt the hum of the hover long before its lights tried to invade his hiding place. He lowered himself closer to the concrete roof. The cold bit through his light pants and jacket.

The lights passed overhead, and the hover moved on through the night on its rounds.

He raised up to look over the short wall; cars passed below, and people walked on their way to whatever destenation they had in mind. He looked through the glass door of the restaurant he was watching. the people he was waiting for were moving toward the door, and began to walk out. The first, he didn;t recognize, a curly-haired man who looked rather young to be hanging around that lot, he thought. The second was also curly-haired, quite a bit darker but he wasn't interested in her, right now anyway...

The next to come through the door was blonde. He knew her from his "other life," as she had helped him on some of the early assignments when he needed the help.

The last, ah, the last. HE walked out the door and into the night air and toward the street.

One last check of the rifle; full pack, sight on, everything perfect.

He rested the rifle ont he wall and looked through the sight to his target below. He followed him away from teh door and along the walk till the shot was good. The bolt crossed the space between the rilfe and the intended target. He watched... as the head moved out of the sight just as the bolt was to meet him. It impacted the wall behind the head, shattering the brick into fragments.

He looked long enough to see them pull out the wicked looking sidearms, then he fell behind the barrier. He heard them yelling about him. Then, he heard the whine. He peeked back over the wall, and they were gone. All the was left for him was to leave the area, and hope for the continued welfare of his family.

He deactivated the rifle and stared into the night sky, searching the stars for some sign.

I'll get you, Roj Blake, if I have to chase you across the galaxy to do it, I will hunt you down and kill you.

I swear.

te

(This story was probably written when I was in high school, and needs a bit of a re-write. I can some palces where the wording is off and the grammar could be better. I'm quite proud of this one though, it's been puliched twice. Once in the late 80's and again in 1994. So, if you have any plans that you can steal it, think again. I hold the copyright and have the 'zine to prove it. No matter, I hope you enjoyed it, and I might just put more up here.)

Joke Time

A man was leaving a convenience store with his morning coffee when he
noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby
cemetery
~

A long black hearse was followed by a second long black hearse about 50 feet behind the first one.
Behind the second hearse was a solitary man walking a dog on a leash.
~

Behind him, a short distance back, were about 200 men walking single file.
~

The man couldn't stand the curiosity. He respectfully approached the man

walking the dog and said, 'I am so sorry for your loss, and this may be

a bad time to disturb you, but I've never seen a funeral like this. Whose funeral is it?'
'My wife's.

~
''What happened to her?'
The man replied, 'My dog attacked and killed her'
~

He inquired further, 'But who is in the second hearse?'
The man answered, 'My mother-in-law. She was trying to help my wife

when the dog turned on her.'
~

A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passed between the two men.
~

'Can I borrow the dog?'
~

The man replied, 'Get in line.'

Voices from the Inside

MENTAL HOSPITAL PHONE MENU

Hello and thank you for calling The State Mental Hospital.

Please select from the following options menu:

If you are obsessive-compulsiv e, press 1 repeatedly.

If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5 and 6.

If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want, stay on
the line so we can trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be forwarded to the
Mother Ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a little voice will tell
you which number to press.

If you are manic-depressive, it doesn't matter which number you press,
nothing will make you happy anyway.

If you are dyslexic, press 9696969696969696.

If you are bipolar, please leave a message after the beep or before
the beep or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term
memory loss, press 9. If you have short-term memory loss, press 9.

If you have low self-esteem, please hang up our operators are too busy
to talk with you.

If you are menopausal, put the gun down, hang up, turn on the fan, lie
down and cry. You won't be crazy forever.

If you are blonde, don't press any buttons, you'll just mess it up.

This coming week is National Mental Health Care week You can do your
part by remembering to contact at least one unstable person to show
you care.