March 31, 2006
EMERGENCY!
All right, people. I need your help!
A while back Beretta USA decided to give us BerettaForum.net members a chance to pick the name of their new 92 series pistol. The plan was simple, we forum members submit names and the ones they liked were put up on the BUSA website for general voting. The moniker with the most votes sticks and the person who submitted the winning name gets a FREE pistol.
I just finished checking the page and I had to jump back and kiss myself twice--they picked MY submission! This is where YOU come in. I need you fine folks to go over to Beretta USA and vote for the FORZA submission. What's in it for you? I'll tell you. If you submit a vote, you too have a chance at winning a free Beretta 92. What's that you say? You think Beretta pistols are crap? Sell it! You could easily get $650-700 out of it on the forum 20 minutes after you posted it.
Anyway, go HERE and vote for your buddy Wayne. Remember: FORZA. Vote for FORZA. Did I mention FORZA? Oh yeah, Forza is Italian for strength or force.
A while back Beretta USA decided to give us BerettaForum.net members a chance to pick the name of their new 92 series pistol. The plan was simple, we forum members submit names and the ones they liked were put up on the BUSA website for general voting. The moniker with the most votes sticks and the person who submitted the winning name gets a FREE pistol.
I just finished checking the page and I had to jump back and kiss myself twice--they picked MY submission! This is where YOU come in. I need you fine folks to go over to Beretta USA and vote for the FORZA submission. What's in it for you? I'll tell you. If you submit a vote, you too have a chance at winning a free Beretta 92. What's that you say? You think Beretta pistols are crap? Sell it! You could easily get $650-700 out of it on the forum 20 minutes after you posted it.
Anyway, go HERE and vote for your buddy Wayne. Remember: FORZA. Vote for FORZA. Did I mention FORZA? Oh yeah, Forza is Italian for strength or force.
// posted by wayne @ 3/31/2006 04:26:00 AM 
March 29, 2006
FOXNews.com - Business News - Hooters Air Dropping Almost All Service
FOXNews.com - Business News - Hooters Air Dropping Almost All Service
Didn't see this one coming, he said in a sarcastic tone. I'm surpised they made it this long. Granted, America does have a long-standing thing for the boobies, but to base an airline around that was just foolish, I think. Heck, they couldn't even keep a Hooters open in this college town, for cryin' out loud!
Didn't see this one coming, he said in a sarcastic tone. I'm surpised they made it this long. Granted, America does have a long-standing thing for the boobies, but to base an airline around that was just foolish, I think. Heck, they couldn't even keep a Hooters open in this college town, for cryin' out loud!
// posted by wayne @ 3/29/2006 04:29:00 PM
March 28, 2006
Photo.
Mainly because I was bored with looking at the old one, I have put up a new self portrait. The new one is a far more casual set up than the last and to be honest I was just playing with the new dc at the time (trying to find out how close "macro focus" really gets) and I decided I liked it. Not quite as melodramatic as this one, but I'm already using it for the startup screen on the dc. While I am drop dead gorgeous, I still have to take myself in moderation!
// posted by wayne @ 3/28/2006 04:49:00 AM
To quote the inimitable Latch, "This is MY arrangement"
Which is another way of saying that I'm doing my own thing here and I'll post when I get around to it. So there.
I'm just kidding. I'm still here, and for those playing along on the home game Dad is doing just fine. In fact, he was cleared for work this week. Good deal.
The real hold up is that I've got some OCD issues I'm working through. Those of you who've been reading for a bit will no doubt recall that next month is the birthday/anniversary extravaganza. And this is a big one, kiddies. Aimee and I will be celebrating 10 supaphat years of wedded happiness and good times. Now that may sound flip, but I'm not joking at all when I say that they have been ten great years. So what this means is that I'm trying to figure out what gift I'll be getting for the party. Now this may sound a little un-romantic, but Aimee and I pick out our own gifts. We'll get each other cards and maybe a smaller gift, but when it comes to the big ones, we pick out our own stuff. This accomplishes two things. First, we are ensured of getting exactly what we're after and, second, it spares us from agonizing over what to get each other. But I digress--back to my OCD dilema.
I've decided that I am in desperate need of a single-action .45. Didn't see that one coming, didja? HA! Since the 1911 design has been basically unchanged for almost 100 years, there are lots of people building the pistols and/or parts. My particular dilema, if one can truly call it that, is trying to decide if I should build one myself from parts, or just buy something that already has all the bells and whistles I want--factory tuned and ready to go. A third option is to buy a cheap, used pistol and then slowly add the parts I want it to have. To this end, I have spent literally hours trying to decide which parts are must have, which are nice to have, and which are just not needed based on people who've got lots more experience making this decision than I. People like the LAPD SWAT team, the FBI Hostage Rescue Team and the United States Marine Corps Expeditionary Units (Special Operations Capable) all of whom have switched back to the venerable .45 after toting 9mm and 40 caliber.
Once I'm 200% on the major components, I also have to consider replacement springs, pins and mags. The devil is in the details, and that is especially true of the wee-bits on a semi-auto pistols when one considers that a single part, if malfunctioning, can bring the whole machine to a screeching halt. I am constantly amazed by people who spend a grand or more on a custom pistol and then trust their lives to $7 gun-show mags. The magazine is truly the heart of the semi-auto pistol and many are the people who have ignored or downplayed that fact.
I've kicked around a few different ideas as to which direction I want to go with it and I've figured out that no matter which way a person goes, it's going to cost about the same AFTER you factor in your labor. As far as specifics, this is what I've got so far: full-size gov't frame and slide, Novak sights, Ed Brown memory groove grip safety, Chip McCormick hammer, trigger, sear, disconnector and thumb safety, Wolff Springs, Ed Brown frame kit, flat mainspring housing, full-length guide rod, national match bushing and Wilson's 8 round magazines. Still haven't decided for sure on a barrel. Now after you get all these parts, you are just about even with the cost of a stock Springfield, but that list doesn't even include the extractor, ejector, firing pin and firing pin retainer. Not to mention grips, grip screws and screw bushings or hammer strut. And then you have to have the whole lot finished after fitting. Once that is done, you are just about even with a good, used Kimber or the Springfield that really makes me smile, the PX9109L, which has almost all of the goodies I want, they're just made by Springfield instead of Ed Brown.
Now some of the parts I have already on hand from an earlier project, and that's kind of what inspired this whole train of thought--I have the parts, why not use them? I have even created an excel spreadsheet with the projected costs based on which manufacturers parts I use. It is really a bit frightening I suppose, but on the ohter hand, I don't spend hours on fantasy freakin' football, March madness, or any other unworthy sporting event. "Guns" (read that with a heavy red-neck accent) is what I spend my spare time doing, and as I said earlier, "This is MY arrangement".
I'm just kidding. I'm still here, and for those playing along on the home game Dad is doing just fine. In fact, he was cleared for work this week. Good deal.
The real hold up is that I've got some OCD issues I'm working through. Those of you who've been reading for a bit will no doubt recall that next month is the birthday/anniversary extravaganza. And this is a big one, kiddies. Aimee and I will be celebrating 10 supaphat years of wedded happiness and good times. Now that may sound flip, but I'm not joking at all when I say that they have been ten great years. So what this means is that I'm trying to figure out what gift I'll be getting for the party. Now this may sound a little un-romantic, but Aimee and I pick out our own gifts. We'll get each other cards and maybe a smaller gift, but when it comes to the big ones, we pick out our own stuff. This accomplishes two things. First, we are ensured of getting exactly what we're after and, second, it spares us from agonizing over what to get each other. But I digress--back to my OCD dilema.
I've decided that I am in desperate need of a single-action .45. Didn't see that one coming, didja? HA! Since the 1911 design has been basically unchanged for almost 100 years, there are lots of people building the pistols and/or parts. My particular dilema, if one can truly call it that, is trying to decide if I should build one myself from parts, or just buy something that already has all the bells and whistles I want--factory tuned and ready to go. A third option is to buy a cheap, used pistol and then slowly add the parts I want it to have. To this end, I have spent literally hours trying to decide which parts are must have, which are nice to have, and which are just not needed based on people who've got lots more experience making this decision than I. People like the LAPD SWAT team, the FBI Hostage Rescue Team and the United States Marine Corps Expeditionary Units (Special Operations Capable) all of whom have switched back to the venerable .45 after toting 9mm and 40 caliber.
Once I'm 200% on the major components, I also have to consider replacement springs, pins and mags. The devil is in the details, and that is especially true of the wee-bits on a semi-auto pistols when one considers that a single part, if malfunctioning, can bring the whole machine to a screeching halt. I am constantly amazed by people who spend a grand or more on a custom pistol and then trust their lives to $7 gun-show mags. The magazine is truly the heart of the semi-auto pistol and many are the people who have ignored or downplayed that fact.
I've kicked around a few different ideas as to which direction I want to go with it and I've figured out that no matter which way a person goes, it's going to cost about the same AFTER you factor in your labor. As far as specifics, this is what I've got so far: full-size gov't frame and slide, Novak sights, Ed Brown memory groove grip safety, Chip McCormick hammer, trigger, sear, disconnector and thumb safety, Wolff Springs, Ed Brown frame kit, flat mainspring housing, full-length guide rod, national match bushing and Wilson's 8 round magazines. Still haven't decided for sure on a barrel. Now after you get all these parts, you are just about even with the cost of a stock Springfield, but that list doesn't even include the extractor, ejector, firing pin and firing pin retainer. Not to mention grips, grip screws and screw bushings or hammer strut. And then you have to have the whole lot finished after fitting. Once that is done, you are just about even with a good, used Kimber or the Springfield that really makes me smile, the PX9109L, which has almost all of the goodies I want, they're just made by Springfield instead of Ed Brown.
Now some of the parts I have already on hand from an earlier project, and that's kind of what inspired this whole train of thought--I have the parts, why not use them? I have even created an excel spreadsheet with the projected costs based on which manufacturers parts I use. It is really a bit frightening I suppose, but on the ohter hand, I don't spend hours on fantasy freakin' football, March madness, or any other unworthy sporting event. "Guns" (read that with a heavy red-neck accent) is what I spend my spare time doing, and as I said earlier, "This is MY arrangement".
// posted by wayne @ 3/28/2006 03:16:00 AM
March 24, 2006
CNN.com - Top Muslim clerics: Convert must die - Mar 23, 2006
CNN.com - Top Muslim clerics: Convert must die - Mar 23, 2006
The next time you're feeling "oppressed" because you happened to hear the word "Christ" or "God" in a sentence maybe you should take a few to thank whatever you DO believe in for living in a country where you are permitted to believe whatever you want without fear of being hanged to death.
Thanks to Dave W. for the link.
The next time you're feeling "oppressed" because you happened to hear the word "Christ" or "God" in a sentence maybe you should take a few to thank whatever you DO believe in for living in a country where you are permitted to believe whatever you want without fear of being hanged to death.
Thanks to Dave W. for the link.
// posted by wayne @ 3/24/2006 07:59:00 PM
March 15, 2006
Let's not do that again, okay?
This is possibly the longest I've gone without a post of any kind since this thing started. Yep. I'm a baaaaad blogger, but given the events of the last week, bloggin' wasn't first and foremost, if you can dig it.
Last Wednesday my father had a heart attack. He's alright, and should be around for some time yet, but needless to say that news scares the living crap right out of a person. According to the doc's he's actually doing quite well given the circumstances. As I look back over the whole deal, I see that if events had gone differently at any one of about a half-dozen possible crossroads, this could be an entirely different post. I genuinely believe Divine intervention was at work last Wednesday. I know how trite that may sound to some readers, but as I said, that is MY belief.
You should know that my Dad is old school when it comes to hospitals--as are some of your fathers, I'm quite sure. When I say "old school" I mean that if it's less than a pint of blood, or there are no visible bones or organs, you get back on the horse and keep on ridin'.
So last Wednesday morning, I'm laying in bed and I keep keep waking up for one reason or another. Dogs barking, phone ringing (stupid telemarketers) or the 2 fast, 2 furuious kids across the street revving their wannabe streetracers. I suddenly remember that I hadn't filled out my timesheet Tuesday night so I decided I'd better get up and do it before "HQ" runs the audits and calls me out (we can submit our time from home through a VPN). Then the phone rang again. We don't answer the phone around here before about 4pm, so I ignored it and started to work on getting the timesheet done. I thought about it more, and figured it was probably my supervisor calling about my timesheet, so I decided to check the messages when I was done. It wasn't my boss at all, but my stepmother telling me that I shouldn't worry or anything, but Dad's had a heart attack. That was actually the first message, left around 9am. The 11am message was to let me know that they'd finished with the angioplasty and that everything went perfectly. I called work to let them know I wouldn't be in, then told Aimee before getting dressed and heading out the door. I caught up with my stepmother and my sister at Braum's, of all places. After all, it was almost noon, and they hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast. That's where I got the full story.
Turns out Dad was feeling fine when he left the house for work, but started to feel a bit sick. In fact, he pulled over to see if it would pass. It did and he continued on to work. This was probably the most crucial decision of the day because my dad still lives 10 miles from nowhere and 15 miles from the closest hospital--which ain't much of a hospital, if we're to be honest. He got to work and was feeling a bit "tight in the chest" so he decided to sit down and think about whether or not he really wanted to get in his van and head to Tecumseh for the day's job. Between him and his boss, they figured it might not be the best idea so Dad waited while his boss got the rest of the crews out. They talked a bit, but Dad still felt that tightness so rather than letting him go home, his boss talked him into going to the ER--and even making him ride shotgun.
When they got to the ER at Norman Reigonal, Dad started filling out the paperwork, and there is a big, bold line at the bottom that reads "IF YOU ARE HAVING CHEST PAIN, CONTACT A NURSE IMMEDIATELY!" Given the circumstances, Old Dads thought that might be pertinent, but when he started looking around for a free nurse, he noted the large sign by admitting which reads "If the nurse is with a patient, please don't interrupt". Now how's that for contradiction? We found out later that the sign should read "...interrupt, unless you are having chest pain." Obviously, he got someone's attention, told them the whatup and things started happening. They got the ekg leads hooked up and decided that he was either having a heart attack right then, or had just finished. By this time, they had notified my stepmother, who works at NRH, and she had arrived on scene. She got the details and essentially took over. She immediately asked "who is the best cardiologist in the hospital right now" they answered Dr. Anwar. She intructed the nurse to page him, to which she replied "Is he your husband's doctor?" "He is now".
Rather than Dr. Anwar's PA showing up, Dr. Anwar himself arrived and looked over the situation. I guess they were on their way to the cath lab for the procedure about a minute after that. The whole enchilada only took about 40 mintues, which I'm told is very, very good. Dad's circumflex artery was 100% blocked, but the doc was able to clear it and put in a stent to keep things flowing freely.
By the time I finally got to see Dad, it was almost 1-something and if he hadn't been sitting in the cardiac care unit, I wouldn't have been the wiser. He wasn't groggy or heavily medicated and was even crackin' jokes with the nurse. Shortly after that Aimee arrived, but they kicked us out because they were going to have to remove the sheath that was installed in his femoral artery. I guess that's a bit of a touchy procedure and they dont' want the fam around getting all freaky if something goes south. Also, they have to hang around and keep direct pressure on the incision for 30 minutes. It is the femoral atery, after all.
I used the time to call Eric and I think we even scored a cup of coffee and a bagel. We spent a lot of time in the waiting room, and I think it was close to 5pm before we were able to get in and see him again.
They kept Dad around for observation overnight, and I went back up around 8:30pm to check with him, even though visiting hours ended at 8.
The next morning they did some extra bloodwork, another ekg and and an echocardiogram to look for additional blockages. Everything was in order, so they discharged him and sent him home with a half-dozen scripts for this, that and the other. Dad is now "resting comfortably" at home, as they say, and may be cleared for work in as little as two weeks. Of course, if it was up to Dad, he would've been back at it Monday morning. Knowing that he's going to be alright is a great relief and I am eternally gratefull for all the doc's and nurses who tended to my father as if he was their father, and for Aimee, and the rest of the family, being there with me. And I thank God for keeping my old Dad around for now.
Last Wednesday my father had a heart attack. He's alright, and should be around for some time yet, but needless to say that news scares the living crap right out of a person. According to the doc's he's actually doing quite well given the circumstances. As I look back over the whole deal, I see that if events had gone differently at any one of about a half-dozen possible crossroads, this could be an entirely different post. I genuinely believe Divine intervention was at work last Wednesday. I know how trite that may sound to some readers, but as I said, that is MY belief.
You should know that my Dad is old school when it comes to hospitals--as are some of your fathers, I'm quite sure. When I say "old school" I mean that if it's less than a pint of blood, or there are no visible bones or organs, you get back on the horse and keep on ridin'.
So last Wednesday morning, I'm laying in bed and I keep keep waking up for one reason or another. Dogs barking, phone ringing (stupid telemarketers) or the 2 fast, 2 furuious kids across the street revving their wannabe streetracers. I suddenly remember that I hadn't filled out my timesheet Tuesday night so I decided I'd better get up and do it before "HQ" runs the audits and calls me out (we can submit our time from home through a VPN). Then the phone rang again. We don't answer the phone around here before about 4pm, so I ignored it and started to work on getting the timesheet done. I thought about it more, and figured it was probably my supervisor calling about my timesheet, so I decided to check the messages when I was done. It wasn't my boss at all, but my stepmother telling me that I shouldn't worry or anything, but Dad's had a heart attack. That was actually the first message, left around 9am. The 11am message was to let me know that they'd finished with the angioplasty and that everything went perfectly. I called work to let them know I wouldn't be in, then told Aimee before getting dressed and heading out the door. I caught up with my stepmother and my sister at Braum's, of all places. After all, it was almost noon, and they hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast. That's where I got the full story.
Turns out Dad was feeling fine when he left the house for work, but started to feel a bit sick. In fact, he pulled over to see if it would pass. It did and he continued on to work. This was probably the most crucial decision of the day because my dad still lives 10 miles from nowhere and 15 miles from the closest hospital--which ain't much of a hospital, if we're to be honest. He got to work and was feeling a bit "tight in the chest" so he decided to sit down and think about whether or not he really wanted to get in his van and head to Tecumseh for the day's job. Between him and his boss, they figured it might not be the best idea so Dad waited while his boss got the rest of the crews out. They talked a bit, but Dad still felt that tightness so rather than letting him go home, his boss talked him into going to the ER--and even making him ride shotgun.
When they got to the ER at Norman Reigonal, Dad started filling out the paperwork, and there is a big, bold line at the bottom that reads "IF YOU ARE HAVING CHEST PAIN, CONTACT A NURSE IMMEDIATELY!" Given the circumstances, Old Dads thought that might be pertinent, but when he started looking around for a free nurse, he noted the large sign by admitting which reads "If the nurse is with a patient, please don't interrupt". Now how's that for contradiction? We found out later that the sign should read "...interrupt, unless you are having chest pain." Obviously, he got someone's attention, told them the whatup and things started happening. They got the ekg leads hooked up and decided that he was either having a heart attack right then, or had just finished. By this time, they had notified my stepmother, who works at NRH, and she had arrived on scene. She got the details and essentially took over. She immediately asked "who is the best cardiologist in the hospital right now" they answered Dr. Anwar. She intructed the nurse to page him, to which she replied "Is he your husband's doctor?" "He is now".
Rather than Dr. Anwar's PA showing up, Dr. Anwar himself arrived and looked over the situation. I guess they were on their way to the cath lab for the procedure about a minute after that. The whole enchilada only took about 40 mintues, which I'm told is very, very good. Dad's circumflex artery was 100% blocked, but the doc was able to clear it and put in a stent to keep things flowing freely.
By the time I finally got to see Dad, it was almost 1-something and if he hadn't been sitting in the cardiac care unit, I wouldn't have been the wiser. He wasn't groggy or heavily medicated and was even crackin' jokes with the nurse. Shortly after that Aimee arrived, but they kicked us out because they were going to have to remove the sheath that was installed in his femoral artery. I guess that's a bit of a touchy procedure and they dont' want the fam around getting all freaky if something goes south. Also, they have to hang around and keep direct pressure on the incision for 30 minutes. It is the femoral atery, after all.
I used the time to call Eric and I think we even scored a cup of coffee and a bagel. We spent a lot of time in the waiting room, and I think it was close to 5pm before we were able to get in and see him again.
They kept Dad around for observation overnight, and I went back up around 8:30pm to check with him, even though visiting hours ended at 8.
The next morning they did some extra bloodwork, another ekg and and an echocardiogram to look for additional blockages. Everything was in order, so they discharged him and sent him home with a half-dozen scripts for this, that and the other. Dad is now "resting comfortably" at home, as they say, and may be cleared for work in as little as two weeks. Of course, if it was up to Dad, he would've been back at it Monday morning. Knowing that he's going to be alright is a great relief and I am eternally gratefull for all the doc's and nurses who tended to my father as if he was their father, and for Aimee, and the rest of the family, being there with me. And I thank God for keeping my old Dad around for now.
// posted by wayne @ 3/15/2006 03:23:00 AM
March 07, 2006
Things that make me go hmmmm...
Earlier tonight, since it is grocery night and we don't cook on grocery night, Aimee and I were at a drive through. We pulled up in the big black truck, Coldplay on the stereo. A young black man was workin' the window and a thought crossed my mind: when two white folks pull up in a completely box-stock Ford pickup, listening to Coldplay, does he think to himself "White folks listening to Coldplay. Didn't see that one coming"?
Crash winning the big one last night has me thinking about clichéd stereotypes and how often we either become one ourselves or stereotype those around us. Let's face it, they wouldn't be clichés if they weren't so obvious and so frequent, now would they? And don't try to tell me you aren't forming opinions about people the instant you see them, cause you'll be lying.
Crash winning the big one last night has me thinking about clichéd stereotypes and how often we either become one ourselves or stereotype those around us. Let's face it, they wouldn't be clichés if they weren't so obvious and so frequent, now would they? And don't try to tell me you aren't forming opinions about people the instant you see them, cause you'll be lying.
// posted by wayne @ 3/07/2006 03:36:00 AM
March 03, 2006
I guess I'm not as dumb as I thought I were.
| You Passed 8th Grade Math |
 Congratulations, you got 10/10 correct! |
align="center">Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?
// posted by wayne @ 3/03/2006 05:44:00 PM
DANG!
I've been sitting here like a dork for the last 8 minutes with my headphones on waiting for the music to start itself, I guess. I wish I had $10,000 for every time I've put the phones on and FORGOT to start the winamp. I could retire by now. Or at least have the house paid off.
Sad as it may seem, that is actually all I have on my mind at this exact moment. How's that for lame?
Sad as it may seem, that is actually all I have on my mind at this exact moment. How's that for lame?
// posted by wayne @ 3/03/2006 03:15:00 AM
March 02, 2006
The Progress & Freedom Foundation
The Progress & Freedom Foundation
Don't let the warm and fuzzy name fool you. As far as I can tell from what they were telling us on the evening news, these guys are out to figure out ways to use "market-oriented" thinking to screw you out of more hard-earned dollas.
More research will be required.
Don't let the warm and fuzzy name fool you. As far as I can tell from what they were telling us on the evening news, these guys are out to figure out ways to use "market-oriented" thinking to screw you out of more hard-earned dollas.
More research will be required.
// posted by wayne @ 3/02/2006 06:44:00 PM
March 01, 2006
I must be losing it.
For the last two days there has been a Chevy HHR sitting in the parking lot and you know what? It is not nearly as repulsive as I envisioned from their website.
Am I going mad?
Am I going mad?
// posted by wayne @ 3/01/2006 04:17:00 PM
