Good news

I finally got around to trying on my black suit this morning - the one I need to wear for my stepdaughter Morgan’s wedding a week from Sunday. I haven’t worn it since we moved to Arkansas nearly three years ago. I think the last time I wore it was for Morgan’s graduation from I.U. in the spring of 2007.

I was concerned that it might have shrunk hanging in the closet all those years like many articles of clothing do. In which case, I’d have to hustle over to Joseph A. Banks Clothiers at the mall and lay out some serious money for a new suit and hope that they could make any alterations quickly.

But, wonder of wonders, it fits. Now all I have to do is find a good dry cleaning establishment because there is a big stripe of dust where the pants draped over a hanger and more dust on the jacket shoulders.

Here’s your chance to know something Eric Holder and Janet Napolitano don’t know

The full text of the new Arizona immigration law.

No ambiguity here

I can’t control it

I have no control over those little thumbnail ads that Google AdSense sticks below the top blogposts. I noticed one this morning for Arkansas Atty. Gen. Bill Halter, who now faces Sen. Blanche Lincoln in a Democrat runnoff primary three weeks hence. I’m not interested in promoting either of them, but I’m stuck with mixed messages thanks to Google.

That said, go ahead and click on the stupid things. I get a penny or two for every click.

Lying weasel

Fred Thompson, speaking on Fox and Friends this morning, called Blumenthal “a lying weasel.” I think Thompson showed remarkable restraint.

And what about those guys sharing the stage with him? Do they dare show their faces at their local American Legion or VFW hall today?

My faves lost, but I still win

My choices for the GOP nomination for Senate and House of Representatives lost yesterday, but I take consolation in the knowledge that the Democrats are still going to lose those seats in November.

Arkansas election law requires a candidate to get 50 percent or more of the votes cast to be declared the winner, so yesterday’s primaries merely narrowed the Republican and Democrat fields for Senator to the top two in each party with a runoff election in three weeks.

I suppose there is an odd democratic logic to the process, but it still seems silly to someone raised in Indiana where the candidate with the most votes wins the nomination.

A shameful spectacle

Connecticut Atty. Gen. Richard Blumenthal’s remarks today about how he “misspoke” about his Vietnam era military service were about as ridiculous as Eric “Otter” Stratton’s defense of Delta Tau Delta in Animal House.

Not counting most of Obama’s public utterances, it was the most disingenuous load of political horseshit I’ve heard in years.

I listened to the press conference on XM satellite radio on my way home from Cape Girardeau. It was mind-numbing how this pathetic weasel tried to spin the issue as an attack on his service record. He did everything he could to avoid confronting the fact that he knowingly and deliberately lied when he repeatedly claimed to have served in Vietnam when, in fact, his six years of service with the Marine Corps Reserve were all stateside. I was in the U.S. Air Force briefly during the Vietnam era, but have way too much admiration and respect for those who fought and died to ever, ever pretend I was anywhere near Vietnam and actual combat. It’s unfortunate that tarring and feathering has gone out of style.

I couldn’t hear the reporters’ questions very well, but it was clear that they weren’t buying it despite the applause from the Blumenthal shills in the audience. And I heard at least one reporter suggest that Blumenthal lied instead of simply misspoke.

That The New York Times broke this story is particularly telling, given their penchant for overlooking the sins of Democrats.

The old riding pants will have to last another season

This was supposed to be the first of a two-photo comparison of my old BMW Summer Pants and the new Summer Pants2 that awaited me at Grass Roots BMW in Cape Girardeau, Mo.

But despite the fact that they ordered three different sizes (S, M, and L), I was out of luck because the Large was too small. And the legs were way too long. An XL, had they ordered one, would have been just as bad because they only come in one inseam length. I have a 28” inseam, which means there is no way I could wear any size of the Summer Pants2.

So there was no second photo and we gave up on riding pants for the time being.

As it turned out, I rode about 300 miles today for two bolts – a painted replacement for the silver bolt I got at the former Wichita, Kans. BMW shop to replace the one that I’d lost from my saddlebag mount – and a spare. While I was there, I ordered a new starter relay for Maria’s K75S, but that was something I could have done over the phone.

What the hell, it was a nice day and I squeezed another 300 miles out of my nearly bald tires.

And I got home in time to ship a couple of books I sold on Amazon.com before the post office closed for the day.

I voted

This was the scene at the Brookland Fire Station at 8:10 a.m. today when Maria and I voted.

The guy in the background is a poll worker who is setting up a voting machine for the woman standing next to him. He didn’t crowd me or try to see how I was voting, so there was no reason to raise a fuss.

Now I’m off to Grass Roots BMW Motorcycles at Cape Girardeau, Mo., to see a man about some pants.

More later.

Thanks a lot, kid. Now get out of here.

I got an automated phone call this afternoon from Bill Clinton, whose people apparently think I’m going to vote in the Democratic primary tomorrow. I’m not, but I’ll get to that later.

A few days ago, I would have expected Clinton to try to talk me into voting for Arkansas Lt. Gov. Bill Halter, who is running against incumbent Sen. Blanche Lincoln. After all, Halter, seen in the photo above, was apparently a “marvelous help” to Clinton when he worked in the Office of Budget Management during the Clinton administration. And Halter has made much of his connection with the Clinton presidency. I got a live call from the Halter campaign a week or so ago which the caller proudly announced was paid for the Service Employees International Union (SEIU – Obama’s thug army) and I supposed that the Halter campaign had the all-out support of the big-name Democrats.

So imagine my surprise when Clinton began his pitch in behalf of Blanche Lincoln.

Our answering machine took a similar call over the weekend from President Obama, also campaigning for Blanche.

If I were voting in the Democrat primary tomorrow, I’d vote for Blanche because I feel sorry for the way some in the party turned on her. She’s done a lot of good stuff for Arkansas. In my mind, her vote for Obamacare disqualifies her from serving another term, but I’ll concede that she has helped her state in some areas.

I’ve met her and Halter and heard them debate. The experience left me wondering what anyone could see in Halter, other than hope that he might be a useful tool for the Socialists. He reminds me of the kind of arrogant twerp you see running for student government office on a second-rate college campus like Indiana State University. I’ve also heard him likened to Lord Farquaad from the first Shreck movie.

But in the end, it doesn’t really matter who wins the Democrat nomination. The winner will be swamped by the Conservative Tsunami in November.

Which leads me to who will get my votes in the GOP primary tomorrow.

Of the eight Republican senatorial aspirants, Randy Alexander is my pick. He carries a copy of the U.S,. Constitution around with him and we share the same understanding of what it means and how it must be protected and defended. I’ve got his bumper sticker on the back of my Honda del Sol and I’ve put up several of his signs at area intersections.

My choice for the Republican nomination for the Arkansas First Congressional District is Princella Smith. She’s one of several black conservatives who have the potential to transform or destroy the Congressional Black Caucus. (After all, would we tolerate a Congressional White Caucus?) And she has the endorsement of Newt Gingrich. Nuf sed.

And if one of those dipshit poll workers tries to look over my shoulder while I’m casting my ballot on the electronic voting machine tomorrow, there’s gonna be trouble.

Breaking news from Weather Central

You know it’s a slow Monday morning when all you can think of to blog about is the 0.15 inches of water in your rain gauge.

No more rain in the forecast until Thursday, so I may be able to put a few miles on the nearly bald tires on my bike.

I’m a believer – O frabjous day, calloo, callay!

Zout laundry stain remover saved my TravelSmith safari jacket

I was certain the nasty ink stain from my Mont Blanc rollerball pen would never ever come out of the patch pocket on my jacket. I used rubbing alcohol and cold water with dubious results – mostly it just spread the stain to my fingers (see yesterday’s post). Then I saturated the stain with Zout, let it set for an hour or so, then scrubbed it with a toothbrush dedicated to laundry use. I ran it through the washer and found it much improved, but still noticeably stained. So I gave it a couple more Zout soaks and toothbrush scrubs and then a final ride in the washer.

And to my utter amazement, the ruinous ink stain was gone. Completely gone.

They say their triple enzyme formula is guaranteed, but I figured that was just so much hype. I still suspect there is some kind of stain out there that this stuff can’t touch, but it rescued my favorite jacket and I couldn’t be happier with the result.

Happy Anniversary to us

Today is our 9th wedding anniversary.

I am reminded of what the late Edwin O. Park said after his father’s funeral as he flashed his dad’s watch:

“I came out pretty good in that deal.”

And I did.

Betrayed by an obscenely expensive writing instrument

I love the unique turquoise ink that passes for “blue” in the Mont Blanc rollerball pen world. I like it so much that I bought the entire blue rollerball refill stock of an Indianapolis jewelry store that was liquidating its Mont Blanc stuff.

But I don’t like it on my fingers and I don’t like it on my clothes.

Which is why I’m in a foul fucking mood this morning.

The Mont Blanc rollerball is a two-piece affair with a cap like a fountain pen. And the cap on mine has become increasingly loose over the years. I was sitting at my desk about an hour ago when I noticed turquoise ink stains on the inside of my left forearm. Then I noticed that they came from my forearm contacting the left breast pocket of my Travel Smith safari jacket (the sleeves were rolled up and buttoned, leaving my forearms bare). The pen and cap had separated and the ink wicked into a hideous stain at the bottom of the patch pocket.

Following Maria’s advice, I soaked the stained area in several solutions of rubbing alcohol, flushed it with cold water, hosed it down with Zout, and threw it into the washer. I suspect, however, that the stain will still be there with the spin cycle ends. And that really pisses me off because that was my favorite jacket.

And now my fingers are covered with turquoise ink stains.

It’s hard to believe a rollerball pen that lists for $375 (I got mine used on Ebay for less than $100) could malfunction like that.

Sounds like Indiana's Mitch Daniels

N.J. gov. sets tone for US - TheHill.com

Snow at 10,600 feet

I just had a Skype conversation with Tim Balough who reports he has about 8 inches of snow on the ground at his home in Alma, Colo., and it’s still coming down.

Tim is a volunteer with the local fire department and reports they responded to a slew of traffic accidents yesterday. He said visibility was down to about 30 feet at one point during the snowstorm.

That seems hopelessly bizarre when I look around here in northeast Arkansas and see nothing but lush green foliage and breathe warm, humid air filled with the heady aroma of honeysuckle in bloom.

The set of Michelin tires for my motorcycle showed up on the front porch late yesterday, but it will be another week before Charlie and I will be able to get together to mount them, along with at least one tire for his bike.

I am IRON MAN

Going with the zeitgeist.

An endless stream

Borderinvasionpics.com has placed motion-activated cameras along several trails used by illegals crossing into Arizona from Mexico and what they captured boggles the mind. Go look for yourself.

Absolutely chilling

Bats right, thinks left

So Elana Kagan played softball in 1993. Why the gay rights crowd thinks the Wall Street Journal publishing a picture of her playing softball is somehow outing her as a lesbian is beyond my comprehension.

She may bat right-handed, but ideologically she’s a leftie and that’s what I don’t like about her nomination to the Supreme Court.

I’d like to see a list of activities and situations the gay rights folks have decided are stereotypical of gays, considering that they’re constantly lecturing us about being blind to sexual orientation.