tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89470994798317827632023-11-16T05:42:32.675-05:00CrazeeMagnetbonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.comBlogger352125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-395105776201754512013-01-16T07:42:00.001-05:002013-01-16T07:42:32.680-05:00See if this makes sense ...So a famous cyclist has openly admitted that he lied about doping, destroyed fellow competitor's careers because of that, and gave cycling a bad name
Using the current mindset of many Americans, Government should now ban law-abiding riders from owning bicycles.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-19106015308529843012012-01-27T03:41:00.007-05:002012-01-27T04:30:24.907-05:00Easily Amused SquirrelsSnuck out for a frozen flight last week. I was flying my foamie Parkzone P-51 RC (lightweight foam warbird) so just went across the street to a school football field. Everything was going fine, the grass and squirrels were appropriately frightened by the Ace of Indiana's awesome flying skills. Fingers were freezing. During a really low pass (6 foot off the deck), crisp, azure blue sky, setting sun glinting off the silver wings, I banked up, left and out to clear the football club house ... the CONCRETE football club house ... more like a bomb shelter ... BAM! CRUNCH! Tinkle. Plop ... Oops - cut it a little close. P-51 confetti! The squirrels were laughing. The concrete building looked unimpressed, but, I'd swear it smirked. I think the grass even chuckled. I picked up the shards that only moments ago had been a noble fighting machine and slunk back to my car. I shall return again, squirrels. I shall return.<br /><br />Update to story: fixed the P-51. Week later. Same field, same conditions. Didn't hit the building this time but DID hit the wire running from a pole TO the building - imagine a 2" braided steel cable and a 24 oz. foam airplane traveling at 50-60 mph - sliced the Mustang into 5 pieces - ZINGGGG, plop, plop, plop, plop, plop. The squirrels fell out of the trees laughing.<br /><br />Damn.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-10511214301482643242011-06-17T15:22:00.003-04:002011-06-17T15:26:50.050-04:00Perfect Landing. Sort of.Flying the Pitts. Beautiful day. Great flight. No wind. Lined up on the runway. Cut throttle. It floated down. Just before touchdown, slight up elevator. Oh crap! I wasn't over the runway. I was over the grass. The plane stopped dead. Broke the entire front end off the plane. So much for a perfect landing.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-59979113269724965892011-06-07T21:18:00.004-04:002011-06-07T21:35:52.816-04:00oops.2 nights ago I lost the battery hatch cover on my Pitts RC plane while flying at a friend's farm. I zig-zagged the farm fields, on foot for over an hour, looking for it. No luck. <br /><br />LAST night, I looked at the field closer - it was planted - teensy-weensy green shoots ... I had tromped all over them the night before ... oops. The aliens might think I was sending them a message through a really poorly executed crop circle. More of a crop zig-zag. I hope I said something nice, something that would promote good will between our species like, "Hi there. Like Twinkies?"bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-4313873820078355812011-06-06T04:33:00.004-04:002011-06-06T05:07:47.903-04:00Maiden Flight<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSeT2_ZRspp1idX8FJQHT_6FIujtvj8k9HJTgvQzP3ZCQ021j6bJg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSeT2_ZRspp1idX8FJQHT_6FIujtvj8k9HJTgvQzP3ZCQ021j6bJg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Finally got the guts/experience to maiden this Pitts Model 12 15e RC plane this evening. 40" wing span. The setting sun reflecting off the glossy wings was a near spiritual moment. Four take-offs, four good landings - progress! Unfortunately I lost the battery hatch in flight and didn't see it fall off. So I zig-zagged the entire farm where I was flying trying to find it. No luck. I was afraid of rattlers - dusk, hot day, cooling off, prime snake time - a rabbit scared the crap put of me! No battery hatch though. Will have to fabricate one.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-12988662268622707692010-04-01T07:54:00.002-04:002010-04-01T08:07:56.013-04:00Father Nature<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mongabay.com/images/external/2005/katrina_clouds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 568px; height: 426px;" src="http://www.mongabay.com/images/external/2005/katrina_clouds.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I have a tendancy to attract ice storms, hurricanes, tornadoes and such when I travel .. got chased out of San Antonio by Rita; been hit by TWO hurricanes in Florida in ONE week ...<br /><br />On a trip now in Detroit - the weather is 80 degrees - it's March - they'll probably get nailed by an ice storm after I leave. Sorry, Detroit.<br /><br />Last night, my coworker, Mandy described me as being like, "Father Nature. But in a bad way."<br /><br />I'm not sure whether to be proud of that or appalled.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-83280413439883535072010-03-12T10:23:00.005-05:002010-03-12T10:28:55.457-05:00B-B-B-Butt Drugs<object width="432" height="259"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYYdF0zcuSI&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYYdF0zcuSI&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="432" height="259"></embed></object>Haven't posted in a long time. This commercial called me to action. The best line is at :58.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-19072935253135287632010-01-03T08:48:00.001-05:002010-01-03T08:49:36.678-05:00Definition of Insanity?Flying a model airplane in sub-zero temperatures.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-24917401386061735272010-01-03T08:26:00.002-05:002010-01-03T08:46:57.458-05:00Howdy PardnerEh-hem … jus' practicin' my honorary Texan skills for next week (el Paso). As a test run, Sue, my wife (a true Texan) and I (a true dumbass), had smoked beef brisket sandwiches last night. I bought the sissy-whole-wheat buns. A true Texan scoffs at whole wheat, "Now why'd ya' wanna' go n' mess up a perfectly good bun with WHOLE wheat? … You sayin' MY wheat's missin' somethin', Boy?!" <br /><br />I was also taught the way of improvin' store-bought potato salad - adding boiled eggs … who'da known to do that?<br /><br />And whiskey beans. We had beans with bourbon and brown sugar. I liked the beans (especially the bourbon flavor part)!<br /><br />And to top off last night's meal? Texas sheet cake, of course. The only cake on the planet that gets better and better the longer it sits. Texas sheet cake is in its prime after about three days. That's why they're so damn big, so there's plenty left after 3 days. Betcha didn't know that, huh?bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-4060107005640775252009-10-27T09:48:00.004-04:002009-10-27T09:51:45.703-04:00Lead us not into temptation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEna-njL2u_0vpznAQuj3RNEOfVG3IfQAlmfpZMOlft5Iy57wd3ujiIqOoN1iBKTbl1FgAuavmi33seRWYWRAdeZX93GDu-fA3QPQPUI6Ppmd5bpumQvl8vCEQnj2vG1Sn14KQxGxMeqY/s1600-h/boll_weevil.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 386px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEna-njL2u_0vpznAQuj3RNEOfVG3IfQAlmfpZMOlft5Iy57wd3ujiIqOoN1iBKTbl1FgAuavmi33seRWYWRAdeZX93GDu-fA3QPQPUI6Ppmd5bpumQvl8vCEQnj2vG1Sn14KQxGxMeqY/s400/boll_weevil.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397276421465934690" /></a>When I was a kid saying the Lord’s Prayer, I THOUGHT they were saying, “Lead us not into temptation...but deliver us from Boll Weevils...” considering what Boll Weevils look like, it wasn’t an unreasonable request for a kid ... and it WORKED – I have NEVER been attacked by a boll weevil!!! Thank you, Lord.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-87002837388015130872009-10-21T18:24:00.004-04:002009-10-21T18:41:03.067-04:00Off we go ... literally<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgItolKrQB4eKGTo_ogh4EfjFDomPYALa4mNXgLSpK_N75Yi07zSfm22b_yH2vEiDZxUbeagrLoaqi1CNhaPBHeEVEmMx2nNloI3WDQcIlzH0WAfTPuFQlxmqn1m6RVx5KYo9hbcu6Nma4/s1600-h/YB.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgItolKrQB4eKGTo_ogh4EfjFDomPYALa4mNXgLSpK_N75Yi07zSfm22b_yH2vEiDZxUbeagrLoaqi1CNhaPBHeEVEmMx2nNloI3WDQcIlzH0WAfTPuFQlxmqn1m6RVx5KYo9hbcu6Nma4/s400/YB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395185920607917714" /></a>No wind when I got home tonight, so took my little yellow plane out flying. Went to a football field across the street. A WIDE open football field. With two goal posts. Of course in all this HUGE, WIDE OPEN SPACE, I flew the plane directly into one of the goal posts. Goal posts, I learned, have a tendency to NOT move when hit by little, plastic planes. The plane moved, however, in about a thousand different directions. Glued the thousand pieces back together. And tried to get one more flight in for the night. Didn't notice that the wind had picked-up. IT FLEW!!! And it kept flying. Away. Far, far away. I lost sight of it. It's gone. I don't think this will be a case of "Lassie Come Home." It probably doesn't remember where I live. Hell I don't even remember where I live half the time.<br /><br />Farewell little yellow plane. Sorry about the goal post thing. Be free.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-52033230250565152292009-10-18T13:56:00.005-04:002009-10-18T14:02:32.350-04:00Maiden Flight<img width='408' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfom0EXHvuXGWyT6OzqkKeUD5aNqfTPoWln4TDvd6iz9ZwXRj2zcQlU7UctOfeUjAA-tNyAc6ijIcV9-zZsls35V7M0bmhui8C1Ik4FcgmPOmtjxT-Rq-HbeJUpehuXvZj-yzo9-65S-9//'><br>Found a BEAUTIFUL flying field so took the Wild Hawk out for her maiden flight. Wide open field with one tree in it. I, of course, put the plane IN the one tree ... and spent 45 minutes poking it out of the tree with fishing rods taped together.<br /><br />Never could get it to fly again though. It could never get enough lift to fly.<br /><br />A family showed up and were watching as it repeatedly nose-dived into the ground, pieces flying everywhere. And the guy gets out of his car with his family ... with a plane ... I gave him the field ... his little plane SOARED into the heavens, circling and dipping and diving for a good 10 minutes. An INCREDIBLE flight equipped with a PERFECT damned landing.<br /><br />I left with a badly bruised male ego.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-25736989408888147522009-10-15T22:57:00.002-04:002009-10-15T23:02:29.639-04:00I TOUCHED THIS TONIGHT!!!!!<img width='408' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifT9Jmwirl0CNqDHZOJTahM0jU3x_sC7OncI0fJWVVy0PBvzmw0fKuGlPbM1E49v4y27ICpWbJCTfGAZZgwpH4cRAaYzWris1D2iITExTfy0wz6k-oP42InWPqsrX_tCO1LML2K6OFop1S//'><br>All my life, since I was a little boy, I've wanted to see two scary things:<br /><br />1. A tornado<br />2. A black widow spider<br /><br />Number 2 was eliminated from the list this evening when I reached for a gas can outside and felt a spider web and something pretty large move on my hand.<br /><br />The shiny, black bulb-shaped part of the body is about the size of a large peanut. The hour glass is VIVID red.<br /><br />I captured it and my grandson and I are studying it. Sorry all you spider fans out there, it is an ex-spider now. She played dead when I first caught her. She's not playing any more.<br /><br />Now every two seconds, I feel like something is crawling on me. I guess I deserve that for "deceasing" her.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-11058496434588799702009-10-14T23:39:00.003-04:002009-10-15T07:38:43.490-04:00Droogie Race<img width='408' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tuJCuTIcU4Jttou-r1DcWmh8F7pwH7_avtU2K-FKe5G8qzuiy9N7ctiwhRKvsuXgwbm53peLkm01Vfyh_qd4KusjpQA3oTzdSbCKG8ZlIGz6WbosiYXqfvaq84ZHJMu0cEt6EXdm8FiB//'><br>HHJH just ran a bit about A Clockwork Orange and it reminded me of a story:<br /><br />My wife and friends and I were at a sci-fi convention years back and entered the First Annual 1 Mile Fun Run. Except we entered as Droogies from A Clockwork Orange. 6 fully-costumed Droogies, a guy dressed as a cow, a seriously drunken fellow and one serious runner (the guy that organized the run).<br /><br />It was a mile run and quite a few of the non-participating sci-fi attendees showed up to watch the race. As it was only a one mile run, even out of shape, hung over and dressed like Stanley Kubrik characters, it shouldn't have taken us more than 15 minutes to "run" 1 mile ... except, being Droogies, we HAD to cheat! So about 100 yards away from the start/finish line, beyond view of the spectators, we, the Droogs, had a car waiting for us, filled with beer/whiskey. All but the serious runner and the cow jumped in the car and drove off to the half-mile mark. And there we parked and partied. In a couple of minutes the real (and only) runner showed up, angry because nobody was taking this seriously. We told him we were taking our drinking seriously, besides, the cow came hoofing over the hill several minutes after that. We ALL got drunk. For about a half hour.<br /><br />We'd forgotten about the spectators at the start/finish line. Ooops. But they hadn't forgotten about us, got worried, and sent out a search/rescue party that found 6 drunk Droogs, a REALLY drunken previously drunken fellow, an inebriated cow and one tipsy, pissed-off runner. So the search party joined us ... yes, they sent out ANOTHER search party to search for us AND the earlier search party. The second search party met the same fate as the first one and got drunk with us too.<br /><br />We all decided to offer the remaining spectators an exciting end of the race. So EVERYBODY piled into and onto the car, drove back up the hill, just barely out of site and then had the car chase us Droogs up the hill and off into an adjacent parking lot past, but not OVER the finish line. We never finished the race. The cow and the runner staged a wind sprint to the finish. The cow won. The drunk was passed-out in the back seat of the car. And the real runner? Well, his shorts were cute, but he was bested by Bessie.<br /><br />The First Annual Fun Run was also the Last Annual Fun Run.<br /><br />Damn Droogies spoiled ALL the fun by cheating. The organizer/runner refused to speak to any of us the rest of the weekend. I mean, getting beaten by a drunken, out of shape cow is likely not the highlight of any runner's career.<br /><br />Engh, f@@k 'em if he can't take a joke.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-76676138425059220252009-10-12T09:12:00.005-04:002009-10-12T10:03:48.536-04:00I think I've got it backwardsMy Doc made me stay home from work for 3 days. Fortunately, I'm house- and grandson- sitting this week. My daughter and son have a GORGEOUS house. And in that house is a hot tub. And in that hot tub am I (said Sam I Am).<br /><br />I thought the idea was that you work hard all your life and you can get little luxuries. Like a hot tub. As usual, my thinker's on the fritz. My house has an UGLY pink bathtub that's WAY too short for me. Did I mention that it is ugly? And the only bubbles in it would need to be provided by me.<br /><br />I must be doing something wrong. <br /><br />Engh...back to my temporary jaccuzi...ahhhhhhhhh. My doctor told me to relax. She didn't mention anything about comatose. So it must be OK.<br /><br />PS. I'm writing this post on my iPhone while IN the bubbling hot tub - the iPhone I had to purchase after killing my original one by getting a tiny drop of water in one of the ports. Like I said, thinker's on the fritz.<br /><br />PSS. New family policy - a spin off of the Foreign Exchange Student Program - all of our family members must now switch houses for one month at a time ... 'cept whoever gets Sue's and my house is kind of like volunteering for duty in Siberia.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-30338140239586857712009-10-12T02:02:00.002-04:002009-10-12T02:04:24.019-04:00YIKES!!!!<img width='408' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4y8QVx-ODxpGwqCst2qSyRHORbSIrh6G1oVNIVz0pWMJ8ZVs2nT-5l0grW0SSgL-aRq80AcKkOgEj9IkhWUc8b8gXZSxsQzYoWzUre9jr1WosTbMfE_KbMvTT7soJxQrw9jUJ5LCQgEPn//'><br>Either our grandson has a really cool Halloween outfit or my brain melted.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-77818299558762933642009-10-10T13:13:00.002-04:002009-10-10T13:29:04.360-04:00Helga the HorribleI drove myself to the ER yesterday after work. I had "strange "attacks" 5 times that day. Was in there a month ago for the same thing.<br /><br />My nurse last night, let's just call her Helga, was not well-endowed in the bedside manner department. I got spoken to sternly for not remembering the name of the doctor that saw me in the hospital a MONTH ago ... I can't even remember my own name at times. "Pretty important thing to not be remembering," was her comment. And then she gave me the Mommy Stare, followed of course by a pregnant pause. Pissed me off! I thought the general idea was to NOT induce your patient to have a heart attack. ???<br /><br />Fortunately, her shift was over quickly so she crawled back into her cave and was replaced by a caring nurse that uderstood that it is not a common attribute of normal people to remember doctor's names when they're stressed out in the hospital.<br /><br />As it turns out, after checking my records, I wasn't seen by a cardio doc last time I was in. Maybe that's WHY I couldn't remember his/her name. Ya think?<br /><br />Silly me.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-69081180129265193812009-10-10T13:08:00.002-04:002009-10-10T13:12:14.865-04:00Keep Finding These<img width='408' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQZM_QXPSWsiZkbL7qPLus2qw0B9LsWBbMY5S3EupTyT5SpVYaXJhYBAzVUCXbXeIz9mv9_6CyQxbxiK_a0h03gxO65pfvq2BDJrkGLWU-8kDFh53AcxOKlMU9lnZ2p2yISxNDBwTz0RU//'><br>I was in the ER last night (just a scare). I keep finding these little sticky things today. Especially the ones from the EKG - the hospital didn't bother to take them off.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-24832046606888507242009-10-06T21:30:00.003-04:002009-10-08T13:04:12.960-04:00Seriously decadent<img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLz06S0-EVSJCjR83GksUrLscDtsrTe8bJsbt18vC4MOxRiHEZQDpqi2pMwS6yOjJFjmnaGID-TrYKgD9V9Y0RuSH43RbDKpmutIzjTAZK11IQW3x0tD4dVCbBNih16u29ot9mnWE-RRsP//'><br>Snails and cake. That's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it, uh huh, uh huh. I'm gonna' start the voting - 1 vote for BEST CAKE ON THE PLANET. Uber-moist chocolate cake, with mousse filling and fudge icing resting in a pool of vanilla berry swirl sauce garnished with fresh fruits and whipped cream. UN-BEE-LEE-VUH-BUHL!!! Snails, however, are slimy things that creep across your garden. So even though they're good, no votes for them.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-41544881096484619062009-10-05T22:13:00.005-04:002012-12-25T09:52:01.141-05:00Madge of the Mist<img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUULB7w5rDNi6AWqVI3N-PfkoyXxyT2VA4ub8K-YGdGEOr3sOFOnn4iZotaEPHaAMrEAggZzGiKb-_olzTLIJPm-p2rY4i1Yl1WbyWmCWw3PsQjBjzvNsXpZeI_RREk_G1ZoCs-pewN6gp//'><br>Is it just me, or does anyone else see the shadows of Lisa, Bart and Madge Simpson on the banks of Niagara Falls?(I swear, I didn't retouch this. I took this shot BECAUSE I saw the shadows.) I guess Homer went over the falls in a barrel. Maybe they'll rename the boat, the Madge of the Mist. ?bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-44254054812928630132009-10-05T17:08:00.001-04:002009-10-05T17:08:35.437-04:00Dear Sue Letter<img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyUf5rzuGCgFsYl6llHMIL2f5mwLn_VzJu0g_IN4ek2JbcxZJm9QqyNk6tRSEe9u4BKArIJYC1tZVhBHTAhlGdmMNOkS_hAR9Ls5kIVxP8hqsJlHsVNO1ubp0V1k52FUu_jgss6NC5AdW//'><br>Dear Sue:<br /><br />This is the view from my room. I'm going to defect to Canada and spend my time in the hot tub eating chicken wings looking out the window - yes, there's a window in the bathroom that allows you to see the falls while bubbling away in the hot tub.<br /><br />The house payment has been made for this month. Good luck. Don't try to find me. I've changed my name to Jules and I now wear a beret.<br /><br />Later, mon cheri.<br /><br />Julesbonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-44424226896274225962009-10-04T14:38:00.004-04:002009-10-04T15:23:07.504-04:00Fly Fail Crash BoomTook my grandson flying today. Broke the tail off the plane at least 6 times. He told his Mom, "Grandpa crashed his plane about 10 times." Kid can't count. (It was more like 20 times.)<br /><br />So much for being a hero.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-90692835611934374952009-10-03T17:14:00.003-04:002009-10-03T20:22:37.539-04:00New Toy<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VXtavXtk6zw&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VXtavXtk6zw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br/><br/>After demolishing my first plane, the first day, I decided to get a trainer so I can actually LEARN how to fly first. 4 foot wingspan on this puppy! Even sounds like a real plane. I was a good boy and overcame the desire to fly on a windy day. What REALLY attracted me to this plane is it's "anti-crash" program. There are two sensors in the plane, one on top that sees light colored sky and one below that sees dark colored ground - if the sensors both see sky,<br />that means the sucker is nose diving into the ground - so the micro processor takes over control and levels out the flight. That's the theory anyway. I bought glue just in case.<br /><br />And GOOD NEWS!!! My wife didn't kill me when I told her I bought another plane! Cool!<br /><br />Maybe I ought to try asking for a Harley again. Or then again, maybe it's best to NOT press my luck.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-68608760757890838542009-10-03T09:38:00.012-04:002009-10-03T17:12:57.358-04:00Ohhhhh, off we go, into the wild blue yonder, duhn dah duhn, duhn da da duhn...<img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgP-nX9l_WPy6Yg2lbhyphenhyphencK6ZGjlDNSv8E53a7w6r5mnRTUtNcowbN-m-RIK1ls2ZfwmbsXk-M4qQT1yepSFEPRNo4YroaWPxPMuhhjEeewVQ5eqO7bP2R5KYrvAYWRTeaaSkAx0pZ5hkI//'><br>(Keep humming that tune as you read this - that'll put you in the proper state of mind for this story. After you get done with the first line of lyrics, just repeat them or sing, "Duhn, da duhn, duhn, duhn ... etc" like I do, because I don't know the rest of the song, unless you happen to KNOW the rest of the lyrics. And I DEFY you to get that song out of your head now that it's planted there.)<br /><br />The P51 Mustang story (happened yesterday): <br /><br />When I was a kid I flew control-line, gas powered airplanes. I always dreamed of owning a radio control plane, but I couldn't afford one. Still can't afford one, but bought one anyway. This is my new P51D Mustang. It has a 35" wing span so it's a LOT bigger than anything I used to fly.<br /><br />Actually, I bought two. My big plane (in the pictures above) won't arrive until next week. I found a smaller, putsy version of the P51 at a local hobby shop and took to the skies yesterday. In hurricane-force winds. Not knowing how to fly radio control.<br /><br />I took it across the street to a neighborhood school. It was sundown. Literally. My God, it had the makings of an epic fly-boy film, sun setting in a deep blue sky, wind in my hair, bad guys lurking in the tangerine-colored clouds - "I'll get 'em, Colonel, Sir!!!" - and with the lyrics, "Oh, off we go, into the wild blue yonder" in my head, my plane and I broke the surly bonds of Mother Earth.<br /><br />For about 10 seconds.<br /><br />Let me stop for a moment and explain that EVERY instructional site I visited on the Internet, said, and I must quote, "DO NOT FLY IN HEAVY WINDS!" But you see, what they don't understand is that I am DIFFERENT. I've FLOWN model airplanes before. Though those earlier planes were attached to wires that I held while I spun around in circles. And I fly in jets frequently - flying to Canada Monday as a matter of fact. Don't they know that the basic rules don't apply to a Veteran of the Sky? I SPIT on your rules, sir! <br /><br />OK, back to the maiden voyage of my P51...<br /><br />The plane accelerated across the concrete basketball court, deftly missing the goal thingies and she lifted into the sky. She made an unexpected bank to the left, but my years (???) of training automatically kicked-in and I corrected to the right. Ahhhhhh, level flight. Then I calmly banked her around until she was headed back toward me. It was at this point that I freaked-out because with the plane facing me, port (left to you commoners) is now starboard (right) and vice versa. Also about this time, the wind, which was much higher at about 25 feet of altitude, just SMACKED my little plane from behind and threw it into a dive. A dive I made worse by getting left confused with right - SCREW starboard and port, I'm fighting for my life here! And BAM! Nose dive into the ground from about 25 feet. The plane appeared to have survived. YAYYY! But in my panic, I forgot to kill the throttle (let off the gas). So after it bounced, up it went again. AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!! This time it went straight up, like a rocket. I backed off the throttle immediately and to my amazement executed an advanced aerobatic manuever - the plane just hovered about 8 feet off the ground, hanging from it's propeller. (I shall name it The Dingle-Berry Manuever.) COOL! But the wind smacked it again and swatted it to the ground. Upside down. SPLAT. So much for cool. Uh, she didn't come back up fighting this time. Nor did she bounce. The plane became "as one" with the ground.<br /><br />10 seconds of disastrous flight and the foam tail was broken in three places. The wing tip was no longer the tip. And the nose cone now resembles that of our pugs.<br /><br />And you know what REALLY sucks? There were a gang of little kids and their families practicing football at the opposite end of the field ... what were once spectators had become witnesses.<br /><br />With my tail between my legs, I picked-up the pile of foam shards that was a plane only 10 seconds before and headed home. Short flight.<br /><br />I'LL RETURN, YOU BASTARDS!!! Nobody can shoot down the Ace of Indiana and NOT pay for your insulence!!!<br /><br />Post Note: it ain't as pretty, but Gorilla Glue works GREAT on foam! I'll have to drill a few "bullet holes" in the wings for effect. And to explain all the damage in a manly manner.<br /><br />Post-Post Note: Now I'm afraid to fly my big plane when it arrives. Maybe I'll just hang it from fishing line, in attack pose, over my bed and look at it.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8947099479831782763.post-85886035770086747262009-10-01T12:19:00.003-04:002009-10-01T12:27:14.868-04:00Stressed?<object width="400" height="328"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_NtdCq0-Qn8&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_NtdCq0-Qn8&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="328"></embed></object>All the little creatures answer to you. Nice boots.bonsairickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09630848349906190502noreply@blogger.com0