Childhood Memories #1

Anybody remember the Japanese anime "RAIDEEN" from the 70s? This was possibly the first transforming robot that spawned everything that followed. They used to show it on Saturday night at 10 p.m. on UHF channel 47 (the Spanish channel in NYC). I watched it with my entire family, living in a 5-story walk-up tenement on the Lower East Side, on a black & white television that you had to get up to change the channels or move the aerial antennae around to get decent reception.

We watched t.v. together as a family. We all decided on what to watch, and the minority vote had to watch what the majority wanted to watch, or go do something else. We also didn't have remote controls either, so we sat through entire programs, without flipping channels once, because:
1) spinning the knob too often was liable to break it;
2) dad would smack us for doing so because television sets were extremely expensive back then;
3) we were too lazy to get up every 5 minutes to flip channels.

Attention spans back then were a lot longer than what it is today, what with all the distractions from handheld gadgets to televions with over 1,000 channels from which to choose. Is it any wonder people today have the attention span of Iceberg lettuce? Back then, there were only 7 network channels and a handful of UHF channels to watch and we weren't flipping channels every 10 seconds to see if there was anything better on another channel. We also planned our viewing schedule in advance, looking through the TV Guide and dog-earing pages and memorizing on what day and what time our show was going to come.

We also dined together at the dinner table. Dad was an excellent cook and I started watching him cook when I was two. I started cooking for the family when I was nine. I learned just by watching him.

I learned a lot of life's lessons from my parents, one of which was I would get the tar beat out of me if I did something bad, and I learned never to do it again. My mom was a very good role model, even if she did cut the apron strings a little too late. The one thing I regret was never defying her to go join the Marines when I graduated high school; she threatened to disown me, and back then, we had respect for our parents. I often wonder what my life would be like had I'd gone the 20 years in the Corps. Oh well. Life goes on.

My Worlds Are About To Collide

You know, I post more links on my Facebook page than I do here. That's because I have a wider audience there than I do here. Right? I don't know, but I will try to start putting stuff that I facebook about on here more.

Life Is Change; Change Is Life

Ever since the election, which had been a referendum on Obama's failed economic policies, my spirits have been slightly uplifted and there is real hope on the horizon. It's going to take a lot of time to fix everything that the Obama administration broke, which they thought was a fix to what they thought was broke in the first place, but really wasn't.

It's going to take time for the economy to recover from Obama's disastrous policies. Jobs are few and far between and nobody's looking to hire anyone in the architecture industry with real-world experience. It's coming up on 2 years now and I'm still trying to find a job in what I went to school for.

However, I had received and invite from my very good friend, to go on down to Virginia for a few days and look for work down there. If I find a job, I'll be moving out of the Empire State - an empire of idiotic politicians that do nothing but tax and spend, and then wonder why the state is bankrupt, especially when the people they want to tax the most are business owners who can't afford these policies.

I'll be leaving most of my family behind, although I do have an older brother who lives in Maryland. I don't talk to him at all, and I probably won't bother to visit him either. You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. However, you can choose to ignore the ones that made your life a living hell growing up, and he did just that. I've long since forgiven him, and I would be there in a heartbeat if he was in trouble, but other than that, I'd rather not have to deal with him. He tends to go off on his high-horse and look down on everyone. It also doesn't help him that he's extremely arrogant and can't admit when he's wrong. So you can imagine trying to have a conversation with him, when his mind's already made up about this, that or the other thing. Yeah, not going to go visit him.

So, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, moving down to Virginia. Isn't it sad that in order for me to exercise my 2nd Amendment rights, I have to move out of one state in the Union into another? Before I make my move, I'm going to have to a tonneau cover installed on my truck so I can pack up all my guns and ammo and bows and arrows and get them all down to Virginia in one trip, and then come back, rent a U-Haul truck with a vehicle trailer and move the rest of my stuff down. Or, if mileage is free, I'll just rent the U-Haul down there and use that instead. It's gonna be a lot of work, but it'll be well worth it in the end. Wish me luck.

State Of Mind

Okay, I've been mildly depressed lately. It's coming up on almost 2 years now being unemployed. Sure, I spend my days at the archery shop, learning how to fix and tune compound bows, but I don't get paid for it.; I'm an apprentice. My real career was in architecture - drafting and designing, basically. We have a lot of "the boys" come into the shop who are in the construction industry and they tell me that they're hurting as well. Construction and Architecture go hand-in-hand, and if they don't have work, we don't have work, and vice versa. At the shop, I'm actually actively looking for a job or a lead for a job. If anyone can help me, it's the contractors who know people. They tell me that there's just no work out there.

There are Interiors jobs in New York City, but all they are looking to hire are people fresh out of school who'll work for the experience alone - meaning "no pay" internships, or people with far less experience than I have, and pay them peanuts. I can't afford to live on peanuts, especially if it means a one-and-a-half hour commute each way, at the cost of $400 a month in transit fees. That's $400 a month that I don't need to hand over, especially if my taxes are going to skyrocket to 39%, on top of a huge pay cut. I also don't want to be putting in 60 hours a week for shitty pay. Twelve years ago, I suffered a nervous breakdown, which led to heart problems later on in my life. The nervous breakdown came after 5 years of working 70-hour weeks for an employer who didn't appreciate the time and effort I put into getting construction documents issued on time. The heart problems came about 7 years later in the form of Supraventricular Tachycardia, or SVTs for short. The high stress environment that I was immersed in caused a pathway in my heart to go nuts. After the ablation, I had to take it easy, even though I was still doing the occasional all-nighter at my previous job, but it was okay, because my then boss would compensate me by giving me off the next day, paid.

So, back to my depression. My unemployment insurance benefits are slated to run out by mid-November and I don't know if it's going to be extended. The country's in real bad shape and I don't know how it will ever recover from this administration's free-for-all massive spending on a galactic scale, especially when most of our industry has gone overseas. On top of that, this administration seems hell-bent on destroying the fabric of our hard-working society, in order to bring everyone down to the "slacker" level. It seems to me that mediocrity is the standard by which this generation, and future generations, will be measured.

Sometimes, the air about this country feels like a perfect storm is brewing and it's bringing with it an ill wind. But the tides may change after November 2nd and everything will be put right again. I may be depressed, but I still have hope.

In the meantime, I'm still looking for a job in either architecture or archery. If anyone has any leads, please send them my way. I'm willing to relocate. I've got to get of of this godforsaken state anyway.

Gone...With The Wind

I write like
Margaret Mitchell

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

All That Glitters...Might Be Brass

The Firearm Blog is running a contest with a grand prize of a thousand rounds of .380 ACP ammo, provided by Lucky Gunner.

I'd like to win that ammo, even though I don't currently own any pistols chambered for that round. I'd probably keep the ammo if I won, because ammo will be more valuable than gold in the near future and I'd be able to trade it for foodstuffs or some other such necessity. Or maybe I'll go get a pistol for it. Who knows? It's a longshot to win, but I'm in.

At The Range

Brigid has a spectacularly jocular post detailing the .38 things she learned from shooting.

I can relate to #14: "The most skilled shooter at the range is usually not the talkative person with the fancy gear, $200 range bag and tactical clothing. It's that quiet guy or gal in the T-shirt with the ammo cans. Watch them and learn."

Now, I am not the most skilled shooter at the range, but I can hold my own. I usually like to go to the range alone. It is my quiet time, if you can call it that, what with all the bullets going off around me. But seriously, when I'm at the range, I'm zoned out. Nothing stands between me and the bullseye. Nothing except the voice of the range officer. Somehow, my ears are trained to listen for her voice, even with earplugs and over-the-ear muffs. I generally keep to myself and concentrate on my shooting form, unless someone approaches me for help. Otherwise, I find a secluded shooting bench and set up my gear. Then I go to work.

My serious shooters are my Browning A-Bolt .243 Win. and 7mm Rem. Mag. rifles. These are my hunting rifles and are sub-M.O.A. guns. At 100 yards, they make one ragged hole. Breath control is extremely important and I learned that from shooting my air rifles at home. The rifle is only as accurate as the steadiness of the person behind the trigger. Having good equipment to start with doesn't hurt either. Either gun was under $800 and I think I got the better end of the deal.

But, getting back to #14; the guy at the gun range in a t-shirt with the ammo cans and doesn't talk to anyone is usually me. Except that one time when I met up with Newbius and OldNFO in Virginia and we went to the NRA range together, I usually go to the range alone.

#2 Pencil On Paper

I don't consider myself an artist, even though I went to an art high school. I'm a Virgo, and by nature, am very detail-oriented, so my brain doesn't work the way the "artistic" brain works. I like to build things with my own hands. I've build sheds for friends and family. I've repaired broken walls and ceilings to the degree that you wouldn't know that they were ever broken. I visualize in 3-D and how things come together to work the way they do. I'm pretty sure that if given the time and resources, I could build a better mouse trap, as the saying goes.
Even though I am neither tall, dark nor handsome, I do appreciate beauty in a human form, especially the face, specifically the area around the eyes. On the occasions that I deign to pick up a pencil or a pen and put it to pad, this is usually what results.

They say the eyes are the windows into the soul. This first drawing was one that I sketched from memory shortly after we met in 1995. I drew hurriedly to get what was in my brain onto paper to be preserved forever. She was one of my first loves and had the most soulful eyes when she was sad, but when she was happy, her eyes lit up the room and all the sadness would disappear. My sketch does not do her justice, but for me, whenever I look at this sketch, it stirs a longing deep within - a longing to hold her and stare into those eyes and a yearning to taste her lips once more.


The next one is of Vivian Chow, a famous Chinese actress/singer (because in Chinese pop culture, you really can't be one without being the other). I copied this from an album cover one day when I felt like sketching. Again, I don't think my sketch does her justice - she's much prettier on her album cover. She has beautiful eyes.


This last one is of another Chinese actor/singer - Chris Wong, and again, copied from an album cover.

Maybe one day soon, I'll sit down, pick up a #2 pencil, my art pad and start sketching again. It's been a long time since I've done any sketching of this type and I think I'm long overdue. My question is: "who shall it be?"

Shooting My Bow

This is my Bowtech 82nd Airborne I tuned a few days ago. I shot 2" groups at 50 yards.


Does my wallet make my ass look fat??

The Orange Has Landed

After much coercion from my blogger friends, I have finally created a blog for myself. Opinions, views and comments here are just that. Serious, and not-so-serious posts to follow, as this is merely an introductory one. Having said that, let's let the fun begin.