Opposition to TSA

Among my friends, family and acquaintances, my disdain and contempt for TSA is well known. An Agency formed in the aftermath of September 11th, they are without question, the biggest laughing stock within the Federal Government. Fifty thousand feckless, mephitic and picayune bullies whose most often repeated phrase, before they became unionized with collective bargaining rights was "You want fries with that?" Now they are nothing more than plaintive, lugubrious, paratrophic vulgarians abusing and lording over fellow Americans, the little power they have.

TSA within its parent organization, DHS; provides nothing more than superfluous window dressing, incredibly laughable bad security theater, and a specious legal venue for the continued erosion of American civil liberties; all the while under the guise of keeping the American flying public "safe." When one reads about a 6 year old child or an elderly American in a wheel chair being given full body pat downs, something is terribly amiss. That something is TSA.

Now, in opposition to all of the above, state legislators in Alaska, Hawaii, Michigan, Montana, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Texas and Washington have banded together to form the "United States for Travel Freedom" caucus in response to the ongoing and ever growing continued threat to civil liberties being abused by the TSA. It is my hope that the Commonwealth of Virginia and many more states and their lawmakers become part of this effort.

Don't think that TSA is abusing your civil rights? Think again. Simply vocalizing your disagreement with security procedures is enough to bring the wrath of TSA down upon you. That First Amendment, Freedom of Speech thing is such an inconvenience. So it appears is the Fourth Amendment, Unreasonable search and seizures as it applies to TSA's full body scanners.

Rep John Mica, the man from whose loins TSA sprang from, now refers to TSA as the "Little Bastard Child I Created."

In an example of TSA being out of control and believing they are above accountability, the head of the administration, John Pistole, blew off a House Transportation Committee hearing, saying "The Transportation Committee does not have oversight over the agency under the House's own rules." While that may be true, thumbing your nose at the Chairman of any Congressional committee just because you don't fall under their purview is audacious and ballsy!

Sadly, the majority of Americans simply sit back and allow their rights to be trampled on. They blindly accept their government knows what's best and believe in their heart of hearts they're being protected. We call them sheeples.

Smoke Free Campus

Over the last four weeks, I've had the unfortunate opportunity to spend copious amounts of time at our local health establishment, Mary Washington Hospital/Medicorp. The organization touts the entire medical campus as "Smoke Free." Peppered throughout the grounds are a plethora of signs that clearly state "No smoking, violators will be subject to fines or prosecuted under VA law...blah blah blah."

Yet everywhere I look, there are both employees and visitors smoking up a storm, tossing butts into either readily available receptacles or more often, just on the ground.

While visiting Florida this past week, my wandering travels took me past Tampa General Hospital. They too tout themselves as a "smoke free medical campus." Someone should have told that too the 350lb female patient, adorned in a hospital gown and id bracelets who was sitting outside, up against the fence, wheezing like a freight train all the while inhaling her cancer stick. My medical tax dollars hard at work.

So where is the enforcement? I noted not a single instance in which either establishments hospital security or staff pointed out the signs or said anything to any of these pathetic tar and nicotine sucking twits.

Nary a word. It's clear that MWH and TGH's no smoking policies are nothing more than paper drills. With zero active enforcement, is it any wonder why it's ignored and smoking flaunted? Why bother to post signs? I expect it's so they can claim some type of high moral ground; beat their chests and proclaim they are working for the health of their communities in some way, shape or form.

They certainly aren't preventing smoking, helping the communities they serve or preventing the subsequent littering that accompanies it.

Desk Lamp - Made In America

I decided I want a desk lamp for my office. I have a small, narrow window which provides little natural light. Mostly, my illumination is courtesy of artificial, overhead, fluorescent lighting, which, even on a good day, is horrendous. A desk lamp might alleviate my misery.

While wandering around Target, I found a couple I liked and would fit the bill. Unfortunately, all are Made in China. Don't get me wrong, I own all sorts of items made from around the world. I try however, to steer away from the Made in China label.

As I stood in Target, a white rage overcame me. The seven other voices in my head and I all decided this would be where we make our stand. I, in concert with said voices, would rail against the world economic machine. Thumb my nose and show my backside. To hell with it! Filled with a new found purpose, I strode haughtily away from the aisles and aisles of cheap Chinese crap around me. I, proud, patriotic American that I am, decided that come hell or high water, I would own a Desk Lamp, Made in America! Filled with a new found purpose to support my fellow Americans, the search commenced.

I stopped; wallet pulsing. What about cost? Common sense told me this would entail more expense. Made in China....$16.99 to $49.99. I pondered and automatically figured paying two, possible two and one-half times the going rate for something equivalent from China would be acceptable. After all, I was supporting Americans, keeping them employed, putting food on their tables, helping to keep their children clothed. There was honor in purpose. My pride swelled! The cost would be worth it.

All too soon, I discovered rather rudely I was a tad off with my pricing.

After hours and hours of perusing, hitting dozens of websites and following links, the search pretty much failed. I was successful in locating numerous desk lamps with the "Made in the USA" moniker proudly proclaimed. As expected, they were more expensive. However, never did I expect that "more expensive" would equate to "outrageous!"

A few examples. American Made Lighting offers three USA manufactured table lamps, ranging from $392-$1062 dollars in price. LazLight offers a table lamp for a mere $254. Belacor states they have "many-made-in-usa-lamps." I beg to differ. Their website offers one, the Pine Creek Desk Lamp, butt ugly I might add, for $199. Kenroy Home, Jacksonville, Fl. Ahhhh...a good American Company, in America. Surely I would find an American Made desk lamp here. Uh...no. The very charming Customer Service Rep Jenee' sent me the following:

"Hi there none of our lamps are made in the USA. They are made in China. Thanks"

I did however stumble into Lamps Plus. They have a grand total of 961 table/desk lamps. Jackpot! Surely I will find what I was looking for here among this bounty of offerings??!! I eagerly fired up a live chat session with Rob, my soon to be, new found best friend.

Rob: Hi Scott, how can I help you today?
Me: Good day Rob, I would like to know how many of your desk lamps are Made in America and where I might find that information?
Rob: I'm sorry Scott, I don't know of any desk lamps that are manufactured in America. All of ours are "Made in China."
Me: Thank you for your time today Rob.
End Session.

So much for Rob being my new found, best friend

I found only one offering which fell somewhere in my perceived price range, that even remotely interests me; an Electrix Illumination 7250-BK Halogen Desk Lamp with Light Diffusing Dome Shade, 22 Reach, Matte Black for a mere $72 dollars.

My pride was no longer swelling, my stride, not so haughty and that "showing of my backside to the worldwide economic machine??" Well, I could hear universal laughter echoing in the background. My feeding and clothing fellow Americans children...probably not gonna happen.

After all of this, I'm left to wonder, is it any surprise that most Americans simply don't or can't buy "American" anymore? I wanted a simple gooseneck desk lamp. No Tiffany, no decorative pine cones, space age swinging arms, titanium alloy or 23rd century design. A simple desk lamp, reasonably priced, made in my home country of America that I don't need a bank loan for, in order to purchase. Quite frankly, they do not appear to exist.

China wins again.

Theft

I recently took my truck to Purvis Ford for routine service. After picking up the vehicle and driving approximately a mile from the dealership, I took note that the power cord for my GPS was not connected to the power outlet. I normally store the GPS in the center console. Stopping at a traffic signal, I opened the center console and discovered that the GPS wasn't there. I pulled over, got out, scoured the truck and still no unit.

I immediately called the dealership, spoke with Mike Iden, my service coordinator and apprised him of the situation. He checked with the technician who'd serviced the vehicle and reported back that he had not seen a GPS. This in no way came as a surprise to me. It would however be reported to the manager. I tersely thanked him and hung up.

After returning home, I again checked the vehicle, under the seats, in all pockets and even the bin in the rear of the vehicle where I store jumper cables and other tools. Nothing. During this second search I also discovered approximately $3.00 missing from the change storage slots in the center console which I use to spray off the truck or pay the occasional toll.

It's bad enough that a low life employee at the dealership rips off my GPS. He/She reaches the level of being simply pathetic when they have to take loose change from the vehicle as well.

I've responded to this theft by firing off a complaint to the local BBB. To them, it's a police matter. I sent an email to Ford Corporate, simply to let them know what had occurred at one of their dealerships. I know they aren't responsible for who the dealership employs. However, they do know how I feel about one of their dealers.

I decided to also send a letter to the GM/Owner of Purvis and included a small gift. I removed the window mount for the GPS from the truck and included it as well. Heck, I don't need it anymore. Since I am unable to prove unequivocally which employee stole the GPS, as far as I'm concerned, everyone is suspect; from the owner/GM on down. I commented that the theft directly reflects the obvious lack of ethics, integrity and values of every employee at Purvis Ford. For want of a whopping $152, Purvis has lost the possibility of thousands of dollars in parts, service and future sales. In the grand scheme of things, taking my business elsewhere will have no real affect on their bottom line. However, by telling friends, family, coworkers and acquaintances, maybe they'll think twice of shopping there, and that will have some affect.

Some will say I was too trusting and foolish to leave the GPS in the truck in the first place. That may be true. Still, I would expect this type of thing from a no name mechanic or shop...not from a dealership.

It's been a week since the original call to the service coordinator. I did believe for the briefest of seconds that I'd hear back from the dealership. Then reality set in. I've heard nothing. No surprise there either. I doubt anything was conveyed.

My wife says not to expect any response from Purvis. I don't. It's about principle. I've registered my displeasure with the BBB, Ford Corporate and Purvis. That will suffice as I chalk this up to a lesson learned.

Residue Awareness

As a year round motorcycle rider and MSF certified Instructor, I like to think I'm more attuned to the environment than most. I don't ride in ice and snow and usually won't venture out into a raging downpour; however, all other riding days and weather are fair game.

As the cold weather beats a half speed retreat from the Fredericksburg area, motorcyclists are peeking their heads out and firing up their machines. Waiting to greet them is the residue of City and VDOT attempts to keep Old Man Winter at bay. I'm talking sand. Lots and lots of sand. Spread along the entire lengths of neighborhood streets, covering whole city intersections and leading into/out of parking lots and driveways.

Sand is one of a motorcyclists worst enemies, second only to oil or anti-freeze when it comes to cornering.

This is the time of year when motorcyclists need to contact their local Public Works Departments city council representative, mayor or supervisors and make them aware of the hazard sand poses to them as roadway users. Request they break out the sweeper machines, go through the town and make a concerted effort to rid the streets and roads as best they can, of the residue. If those efforts fail or are rebuffed, ratchet up your situational awareness and be prepared. A few good, hard Spring rains might wash some of it away, but not all. Stay alert.

When In Rome

My job affords me the opportunity to travel extensively around the world; and lately, it has taken me to South & Central America. Guatemala, Ecuador, Mexico.

When it comes to food, I've always been adventurous. No matter where I travel in the world, you will not find me eating at McDonalds, Chili's, TGI Fridays, KFC, etc. Rarely will I eat at the hotel. My search for good starts shortly after arrive in country and more often than not begins the taxi driver. Where do the locals eat? I get one of two reactions. It's either immense pleasure or an incredulous look of bewilderment. More often than not and fortunately for me, it's the former. By the time, I've been dropped off, I have a minimum of three recommendations.

My latest foray south of the border took me to Quito and Mexico City where I discovered two local haunts that were somewhat off the beaten path.

Quito offered us Rincon La Ronda. The atmosphere was old world; heavy stucco walls, red carpeting, high backed chairs made of old dark wood. Our meal started with empanada's and other local delights; followed by main courses consisting of grilled pork, suckling pig and beef tongue. Each main was accompanied by vegetables, some type of grilled potato patty and my all time personal favorite, fried plantains. An added bonus were the two groups of musicians that wandered the floor. A group of three older gentlemen, plucking guitars and a band of five men, dressed in more traditional garb playing flutes, drum and guitars, all crooning local ballads. Thoroughly enjoyable.

While stuck in horrendous traffic in Mexico City, I asked my driver for an eatery recommendation close to my hotel. Without missing a beat he said "Los Panchos" but with a glance in the mirror and a bit of trepidation in his voice. I pressed him. "Sir, it is not a very nice place." "Not nice in what way?" I asked. "Not safe for me to be there or not pretty to look at?" "It is a simple place sir. Not fancy." I chuckled. Sounded like my kind of place. I said "Do you eat there?" "Of course, it is some of the best authentic Mexican food in the city." SCORE!!!! "Well then, I accept your recommendation. Do you have an address?"

With the help of Google Maps, I found my route. A mere 15 minute walk from the hotel. I turned onto 9 Tolstoi and knew I was in the right place. A small hole in the wall looking joint with two local Policia standing out front, availing themselves of the food. Los Panchos has a walk up area where you can get an array of assorted tacos to go. Stand in front of the glass and watch your tacos created before your very eyes!

Inside are a few dozen tables. I am seated and peruse the menu. Before I ordered I knew I was in the right place. Really now, how can you go wrong in a restaurant that has twenty-four different tequila's on the menu??!!! With my extremely limited Spanish I order. A Negro Mondelo, tortilla soup and two pork campechanos. Along with my beer came bowls of salsa roja, salsa verde and pickled veggies (carrots, onion and sliced jalapenos). A condiment tray containing diced onion and cilantro was also dropped in front of me.

The tortilla soup was like no other I'd had before. A rich broth, chock full of slices of corn tortilla. A tray containing a crumbled farmers cheese, slice of avocado, pork rinds (go figure) and pieces of what I believe were dried ancho chili. Everything but the avocado went into the soup. With each spoonful my eyes rolled back into my head. In between bites, I slipped a slice of pickled vegetable onto my tongue.

The campechanos appeared. Sliced pork and pieces of pork rinds wrapped in soft corn tortillas. I opened them up. In went the two salsa's, cilantro and minced onion. I blinked. My plate was empty. How the hell did that happen so quickly, I wondered?

I sat back, sated. I was offered my choice of coffee beverages and chose a double espresso. The entire meal came to $170 pesos or $15 USD. Having paid the bill, I casually strolled the fifteen minutes back to the hotel, giving the food a chance to settle.

As I walked, I silently thanked my dad. My sense of gastronomical adventure comes from him. When we rode, we would take the road less traveled. Inevitably, that road would lead us to some small out the way place, far off the beaten path that held a hidden gem of an eatery. Mind boggling BBQ, fresh seafood, mouth watering biscuits or just plain old down home country cooking.

Travel and food. Both are adventures waiting to be explored. To be shy about the latter is to miss out on a good portion of life's pleasures. So, when in Rome...

The little joys in life

Years ago I stepped out the back of our house to find Osh the cat, looking skyward into the trees, mesmerized. I'd seen the look before as he keyed in on some bird, hoping beyond hope that it would land nearby and he could pounce. This was different though. He was rooted, tail twitching, gazing high into the tree. I stopped, looked up and saw, perched on a branch about 25 feet above, a red tailed hawk; head cocked to the side, looking down. Each of the these creatures was riveted upon the other. I let out a roar of laughter. Osh briefly looked at me with that "What the hell is so funny" gaze of his before returning to the hawk. I sat down next to him, as any responsible pet owner would do, to have a little "Come to Bill The Cat" chat with him.

"Osh...Buddy, THAT is not your standard sparrow/morning dove/cardinal your licking your chops and having kitty fantasies about. That is a Hawk and you don't want to mess with him." Here before me were these two natural adversaries eying each other up and down. Two pea sized brains rapidly assessing the situation and both coming to the same conclusion....LUNCH! I chuckled, told Osh to be careful and walked off.

My reason for sharing this vignette...There are a few things in this world that give me unbridled pleasure. One is being on my BMW. I love and live to ride. Another is Birds of Prey. I love seeing them. Eagles, Hawks, Owls, Falcons, the list goes on. Soaring gracefully above the water or gliding above an open field, looking for their next meal.

I travel an easy 26 miles to the office each day. Past open fields and farmlands. Without fail, during my ride to or from the office, I'm rewarded with a falcon or hawk, either perched on a wire surveying their domain, standing just off the shoulder of the road, some small creature clutched in its talons, or swooping across one of the fields in pursuit of a meal. Seeing these creatures stirs something deep inside of me. I want to haul down on the brakes of the big Adventure bike, stop and take pictures. I resist. My chances of one of these amazing birds sitting still for a dumb bipeds kodak moment are minimal and stopping on the side of the road is an invitation for some twit in a cage to target fixate and run me over.

So I continue on my way, each morning or afternoon ride made all the better by these amazing birds. I silently thank Mother Nature or The Supreme Being of Winged Creatures, for affording me the opportunity to see them and wondering if maybe, just maybe, I'd been a falconer for some royal entity in a previous lifetime.

Technology 1, Humans 0

On Saturday we wandered out to one of the local grocery stores for a few items. Having filled the cart, we proceeded to checkout. As we put our items on the belt, the cashier swiped a carton of Newman's Own Lemonade across the scanner for the lady in front of us. BEEP! Rejected. BEEP! Rejected. She stopped, looked at the offending item and tried one more time. BEEP! Rejected.

Calling a manager for assistance, she said "The scanner isn't registering this item" and handed it to him. He tried a couple of times before announcing "I'll go and check it." Off he went. We waited. Approximately five minutes with still no return, we were joking that the refrigeration units had swallowed him and he was never coming back. At the same time we were invited by a neighboring cashier to bring our items one register over to complete check out.

As we started check out in the next lane, our intrepid manager returned with a duplicate carton of Lemonade. Scan...BEEP! Rejected again! At this point, completely perplexed, he offered what I affectionately call a "BFO," or Brilliant Flash of the Obvious, by announcing to the lady who wanted to purchase the product that they could not get a price, because it would not scan. She told them not to concern themselves with it and move on.

Said manager then promptly picked up his Motorola radio and called to the back. "The Newman's Own Lemonade isn't registering on the scanners, you have to pull all the product from the shelves."

I stopped. WHAT??? Had I heard this guy correctly? They were going to pull fifty or so cartons of lemonade because the price couldn't be scanned at checkout? I waited a moment. Sure enough, that was the plan.

I was aghast! The term "Mindless Drones" jumped to the forefront of my brain. Here was the perfect example of the human race relying solely on technology to accomplish their mission. Technology failed to recognize the product. Why did this happen? In all likelihood...simple human error. Someone forgot to input the SKU of this product into the system. Thus, the Drones, unable to rub two brain cells together, shut down. No one thought, "Hey, I'll go back to the cooler, get the price, grab a bunch of sticky notes, scribble down the information and post it at each register. That way, if a customer wants it, we can accommodate their purchase and sell the lemonade by inputting the price manually." A quick fix/solution until such time as the stores system can be updated. Instead, they choose to lose money (albeit, not great amounts in the grand scheme of things...but that's not the point) by pulling all the product.

I am not a Luddite. Far from it. I embrace technology and use it to my advantage at every possible opportunity. Should that technology glitch or fail for some reason, my whole world does not crumble, I don't freeze like a deer in the headlights and my synapses don't overload and kick off line. I increase the cycles of the OODA Loop, attempt to come up with a fix and more often than not, am successful.

This was a simple fix, yet the humans failed miserably. It was embarrassing to see. Instead of engaging that supposedly superior gray matter known as the brain and overriding the technology, they allowed the technology to control them.

We're supposedly the top of the food chain on this planet. I think not.

The Hypocrisy of the IIHS

I can only laugh. As I thumb through the latest issue of AMA's monthly magazine, American Motorcyclist, I marvel at the hypocrisy of the nations insurance companies. Proudly displayed on the back cover is an advertisement from Allstate Insurance Company, the "Good Hands" people. Inside are ads from Geico, Progressive and others. The images of their agents conveying to the motorcycling world "Look, I'm a motorcyclist, just like you. One of the guys/girls and I sell insurance. I'm on your side."

Yet Allstate,Progressive and Geico along with eighty-eight other companies are members of the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS). Purportedly an "independent, nonprofit, scientific, and educational organization dedicated to reducing the losses — deaths, injuries, and property damage — from crashes on the nation's highways."

Far from it. The IIHS is a partisan organization whose agenda, for more than three decades, has been the outright destruction and demise of motorcycling in the United States.

In the early 80's the IIHS, using tainted, flawed and skewed data pushed for a ban on all sport type motorcycles in the US. Claiming bogusly, both then and again in 2007, that sport bikes are considerably more dangerous than other types of motorcycles. This of course is crap. The fact that there are more idiot squids (squirrely kids) on sport bikes than on other types of motorcycles doesn't make the bike the problem.

Recently, the IIHS again took aim at motorcyclists by requesting the NHTSA mandate Anti-Lock brakes for all new motorcycles, claiming that ABS would reduce crashes by approximately one-third. This of course was based on IIHS data.

The NHTSA threw down the Bullshit Card. Their own National Center for Statistics and Analysis (NCSA), using case-controlled comparisons for motorcycles with and without ABS, concluded "There were no statistically significant results to suggest that ABS affects motorcycle crash risk."

So, the IIHS and their data is proven to once again be flawed and not surprisingly a detriment to the motorcycling community.

The ultimate hypocrisy is that these same companies, with smiles stretched across their faces, glad hand us and readily, greedily accept premiums from motorcyclists to insure them; all the while actively running an anti-motorcycle campaign in an attempt to destroy motorcycling, through the auspices of the IIHS.

Sadly, trying to find a reputable company to insure us, which is not an IIHS member appears to be an effort in futility. We must deal with the devil and all of his hypocrisy. However, in doing so, motorcyclists must remain vigilant. We cannot afford to let our guard down for a moment. Doing so would have dire consequences from which we may never recover.

TSA & Backscatter XRay

Think about it for a moment. A radiologist must undergo years of training, certification, constant professional continuing education, and renew their license to operate the machinery on a yearly basis.

Before they became part of the Great American Theater Troop that masquerades as nationwide airport security, the most often heard phrase from TSA screeners was "You want fries with that?" These are the folks running the backscatter XRay machines. 50,000 slovenly, uneducated, feckless, untrained minions whose collective IQ struggles to rise above single digits.

One need only look at the failure rate Upwards of 70% of TSA screeners when it comes to simply looking at scanned bags, to be concerned with their ability to not only operate, but interpret backscatter images. One security "expert" claims that "it's simply human error." Really? Human error? 70%? Sorry, human error is 10% or less. Seventy percent is incompetence on a massive scale. TSA's new director even admitted "Every test gun, bomb part or knife got past screeners at some airports" during random, covert testing.

Yet, the government wants Americans to stand idly by and let these gommies repeatedly zap us as we stand, arms in the air? Sadly, thousands of traveling sheeples will do so, wholeheartedly believing they are being protected and kept safe.

No thanks...If my choice is to have some untrained former fry daddy relentlessly radiate me or one of his spado buddies play with my junk; I choose the latter.

Try It - You'll Like It

Jones Sausage & BBQ House. 2827 Martin Luther King Drive, San Antonio, TX. Tuesday-Saturday 1100-1900.

A small, little red cinder block joint that served up the most fantastic sausage and ribs I've ever eaten. If you find yourself in the area, don't let the looks or the location fool you. These folks know and do serious Que!

As the sign on the outside of the bldg says..."If it's sausage you want, the name to remember is Jones."

The Great Winchester Street Tree Massacre

Dominion Virginia Power came through the neighborhood last week to conduct their once every 3-5 year tree massacre. Dominion is allowed, by right, to trim back trees that pose a threat to their overhead power lines. I have no issue with keeping trees trimmed in a manner that keeps uninterrupted electricity, phone and cable to the house.

What I find offensive is Dominion's careless and blatant mutilation. In the course of a couple of hours, the teams came through and hacked the living crap out of a number of trees; leaving us with the offensive and monstrous "V" shape on the interior. You know what I'm talking about. You have the main trunk of the tree and a couple of large limbs to either side, forming a deep, wide "V" where the lines pass through. There appears to be no care, logical or rational approach to the "pruning" by Dominion. Pruning...Sure, whatever you say Dominion. Come in, hack, expurgate, mutilate and destroy any aesthetically pleasing design to the tree and label it pruning.

I fired off an email to both the City and Dominion indicating my displeasure. I asked that someone come out and survey the work to see if it was done properly. The City sent their arborist and the "pruning" was given a thumbs up. It appears that not only do I have to endure the insult that the trees were properly pruned, I also have no choice but to accept the resulting visual disfigurement.

Why do they do this? It's simple really. Not only does Dominion not give a damn they don't want to be bothered with the trees in the neighborhood for another 5 years. It's all about profits. Why come through every couple of years and properly trim the trees and leave something beautiful to look at, when you can save a few bucks, cut up, deface and mangle them in one fell swoop and not have to worry about it for half a decade?

Dominion gets to beat their chests and exclaim they are doing their part to keep everyone on the grid, while residents are left with these mangled and bastardized eyesores of nature, courtesy of the planets most dangerous animal, the human biped.

In five years I think I'll just ask them to cut the damn thing down and put both the tree and myself out of our misery.

235 YEARS

To each and every one of the Marines I call friends, acquaintances and brothers....Happy Birthday! 235 Years today.

Semper Fi wishes from the US Coast Guard!

TOTAL EYE - Grand Opening

Total Eye, Family & Medical Eye Care held its Grand Opening on Saturday, 06 November. Located in Culpeper, Virginia, Doctors Brad Church, Myron Wasiuta and Sandra Grossett are dedicated to their mantra; "A personalized approach to vision correction" something rarely found in medical practices these days. Be it general eye care, low vision specialties, emergency eye care or nutrition, their patients are first and foremost. The doctors and staff take the time to ensure the best in eye care for everyone who walks through their door.

A good time was had by all. Two moon bounces were provided by the folks at Here Comes Fun for the kids; popcorn, food, a raffle, door prizes and other goodies as well as free vision screenings for the community. Local chamber of commerce members were in attendance as was WJMA 103.1, the local radio station.

An official ribbon cutting ceremony was held to close out the days activities. Check out pictures from the event.

Total Eye of Culpeper (540)-825-8220). My personal and I readily admit, blatantly biased opinion; you won't find a more dedicated group of doctors and staff for all of your eye care needs in the Culpeper and Fredericksburg regions.

Restore Sanity/Keep Fear Alive

This past Halloween weekend, the Rally To Restore Sanity/Rally To Keep Fear Alive was held in Washington, D.C.

Unable to attend, I nonetheless, greatly appreciate the fact that EVERYONE at this event, at least knows how to spell.

Rally Signs

Halloween

My favorite holiday (well not a holiday really) of the year. I love carving pumpkins. The stranger the better.

Three or so years ago, I came across Extreme Pumpkins. A strange, macabre and generally warped site devoted to carving pumpkins in an entirely new way. I was mesmerized. Here were the pumpkins that I dreamed of, but my imagination somehow couldn't bring to life.

In these intervening three years, I've carved many pumpkins I've found from the site. Kids and parents alike stopping by for tricks or treats comment on them all.

Here's to the folks at Extreme Pumpkins and all of their contributors; who submit their gourd creations for consideration in the yearly contest. Until such time that my own warped imagination can come up with a suitable masterpiece of its own, I'll continue to borrow your ideas and give credit where credit is due.

Carve on!

2010 Halloween Pumpkins

Consideration (or Lack Of)

While down in the Outer Banks recently, we headed north towards Duck for a bit of lunch and wandering. We saw the signs notifying us there was road construction ahead. No information on what type of road work, just road work. As we approached, I saw the above sign. It was planted right where the pavement ended and the gravel began. There was no warning for motorcyclists (or anyone for that matter with less than four wheels on the ground) prior to this sign, that upon leaving the pavement, you would be greeted with 3+ inches deep gravel.

As it was, when the front tires of the car met the gravel, they dug in. Had I been on my 1200GSA, there is a possibility that I'd have lost the front end of the big BMW as it met the gravel and been the recipient of what I affectionately refer to as "an unplanned get off."

This road work is yet another example of just how clueless, unthinking or simply inconsiderate most State Department of Transportation entities are. When they think roadwork, they think "Oh this won't be a problem for anyone on four or more wheels." They never give consideration to the affects their work will have on that small segment of the population that doesn't travel in a cage.

I've sent off a strong, but polite email to the North Carolina Department of Transportation, asking that they post additional signs, approximately 1/2 mile in both directions from where the pavement turns to gravel, giving motorcyclists ample warning of the impending danger which lies ahead.

I don't hold out a lot of hope that it will garner any response.

UPDATED 11/01/10 - A reply from NCDOT says they will endeavor to take two wheeled vehicles into consideration when conducting future operations.

Fear Mongering (aka National Security)

The card has been played.

Not surprisingly, by none other than Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf himself; the genius behind the Cordoba Initiative.

The initiative is a plan to build an Islamic Cultural Center and Mosque two blocks from the September 11, 2001 Ground Zero site. This has, not surprisingly, created a firestorm of protest here in the United States.

The Cordoba Initiative has a number of goals, one of which is the professed "Improvement of Muslim-West Relations." I prefer to call it like it is - "The Improvement of Muslim Domination Over The West." First, the initiative is designed to establish a monument, commemorating the victory over America on September 11th. Make no mistake, Muslims saw the attacks on the World Trade Center towers, their subsequent collapse and the death of thousands of Americans as just that, a victory over the Great Satan. I personally will never forget the worldwide images of Muslims cheering and dancing in the streets as the towers crumbled. That is the face of mainstream Islam. The argument that persons of all religious denominations, including those of the Islamic faith, died that day, means little to me. Fellow Muslims were merely collateral damage; having died for a twisted cause. One need only look at the sectarian violence that exists in Iraq and other countries where Islam is the dominate religion, to realize that Muslims have no regrets about killing one another.

Second, eating our own. The initiative has polarized Americans, turned us against one another, tearing at each others throats; and I can hear Islamic universal laughter as it echos around the globe. With the freedoms afforded us by the Constitution and Bill of Rights (abhorrent concepts in Islam), what better way to further their agenda than our own infighting. They don't have to lift a finger. We're doing it all for them.

Rauf claims that if he'd known the protests would happen, he wouldn't have proposed the project. In his next breath however, he now claims that if the Center is moved, it will endanger national security. How so? According to Rauf "That would embolden radicals of all faiths and create security risks for the United States and Americans abroad."

I'm going to throw down the BULLSHIT CARD and state unequivocally that Rauf and his followers knew all along there would be protests and this is exactly what they want; they are the perfect devils advocate. Masquerade the attack on the chosen location for the Cultural Center, as an attack on the basic tenet of "Freedom of Religion," sit back and enjoy. However, and unfortunately for Rauf, there are those of us who aren't so easily fooled. With more than one hundred mosques already in New York, we know this has nothing to do with the right to practice their religion.

I will also state that this has absolutely nothing to do with National Security or the safety of Americans abroad. Rauf's claim that "Terrorism will end only when the West acknowledges the harm it has done to Muslims," is laughably specious. Anyone with two active brain cells to rub together is fully cognizant that there is NOTHING Americans can do to reduce the risk to themselves abroad. It's a way of life in today's world and it matters not one iota whether you are an aid worker, volunteer, missionary, or military; Americans are in the cross hairs of Wahabbists world wide, who have have shown they have no compunction in killing us.

Rauf says his "life has been devoted to peacekeeping." This sham is perfectly acceptable to the Islamic faith. Known as Tikiyya, it allows Muslims to deceive non-Muslims, if it helps and promotes Islam and Rauf is a master. Who, but a master of deception, could get the U.S. Government to fund a two month "goodwill" tour throughout the Middle East?

Not all of us have fallen into this trap. We see Islam for what it really is; a violent, intolerant, control every aspect of your life religion, whose end goal is total domination and subjugation of every human being on the planet.

Some will label me an Islamophobe. Label away. Having lived and worked in various countries where Islam is the dominate religion for more than five years, I have seen it first hand. When an "infidel" inadvertently lets a copy of the Qur'an fall to the floor and "peaceful" Muslims become incensed and demand the sacrilegious act be avenged by putting him to death, there's reason for concern. When caricatures of Mohammad and books criticizing Islam result in fatwas calling on all "good Muslims" to kill or help kill the offending person, there's reason to be phobic, very phobic.

Like all religions, there is a place for Islam in this country. Unlike all other religions, only Islam requires constant vigilance in order to ensure the continued and unwavering protection and defense of the freedoms and liberties we so cherish and Islam would so quickly destroy.

VRTP - A Dictator Rules

In 1997 I became Motorcycle Safety Foundation (MSF) certified Instructor. As a lifelong motorcyclist, this was my opportunity to give back to something I love. Teaching others the practical and responsible intricacies of safe riding. Any moron on two wheels can ride fast in a straight line. It takes talent to corner and brake.

Over the intervening thirteen years, by my count, I taught over 1200 people to ride. Be they pure novices who'd never been on a motorcycle or experienced riders coming in to polish/work on their skills, I've reveled and taken great satisfaction in watching them progress, improve and succeed.

While certified nationally by MSF as an instructor, in Virginia, we answer to the DMV's Virginia Rider Training Program (VRTP). Recently, we received notification on new requirements required to maintain our teaching certification in the Commonwealth. As Instructors we must teach a minimum of 4 Basic Rider Courses per year and attend 2 Professional Development Workshops. In the event that we fail to achieve these standards, in order to reacquire our certification to teach, we must attend a two day re-certification course and receive a Level 1 & level 2 Quality Assurance Report.

I have no issue with the annual 4 BRC/2 PDW requirements. What I take issue with is the way they were presented, the lack of adequate communication coming from VRTP and the absolutely ludicrous re-certification process one has to go through. Despite statements from VRTP that they've been talking about the new requirements since 2008, the recent announcement caught quite a few people, myself included, off guard. This was the first we'd heard of it. In my opinion, VRTP failed miserably in getting the word out.

Being one who wholeheartedly believes in accountability and transparency; I had the temerity to question VRTP. Where did the program get the authority to change the minimum standards required by the national certifying authority (MSF)? Produce the documents, laws and mandates. My response generated a rather lively discussion, with a number of instructors echoing my request for accountability, authority and transparency; while other instructors took me to task for doing so.

In response, VRTP showed its true colors, taking exception at being questioned by a mere Instructor. Suffering from what I refer to as the "Napoleon Syndrome," not only did VRTP completely ignore the many requests for accountability and suggestions on how to improve VRTP communication with its Instructors, they went directly into dictator mode. QUOTE "If you intend to continue to teach as a certified Rider Coach in the State of Virginia at a licensed training site, you will comply with the current standards and policies and procedures as dictated by the VRTP." UNQUOTE

Comply?! Dictate?! I readily admit, I despise dictators. They are lugubrious, plaintive, crocodilian, Punchinello's with an overinflated sense of superiority and self worth. VRTP fits the bill perfectly; believing they are affording us the privilege to teach in Virginia. QUOTE "From this point forward, let there be no misunderstanding: privilegeprivilege
privilegeprivilegeprivilegeprivilegeprivilegeprivilegeprivilege" UNQUOTE.

VRTP is under some delusional belief that it makes the safety program what it is. Nothing could be further from the truth. Motorcycle Safety Education in the Commonwealth is successful due to the efforts and dedication of the 300+ MSF certified instructors, not because of the VRTP. The VRTP is nothing more than a necessary evil, who's existence should be to serve as the focal point for Motorcycle Safety in Virginia, lead the program and be accountable to those both above and below them. VRTP has failed in all respects. With its "complying" and "dictating" stance, the VRTP believes they are above accountability and has, in my view, clearly demonstrated a distinct lack of even the barest semblance of leadership ability.

After calling the program out one last time for its lack of adequate communication to the Instructors, falsehoods and overall BS, I decided I could no longer be a part of Motorcycle Safety in the Commonwealth. I find it too personally repugnant and abhorrent; having to answer to any persons or organization that holds such contempt, disrespect and disdain for myself and my fellow instructors.

I remain passionate about Motorcycle Safety and will miss teaching. What I lament most however is the immense, personal satisfaction of watching my students progress from the basic, through the more advanced, to successful completion of the course and the ultimate celebration of their achievements.

Vivere est Cogitare

SEMPER PARATUS!

Happy Birthday to my beloved United States Coast Guard! 220 years old today.






-RM2 Scott W. "Squeaky" Olsen
-1975-1979
-USCGC CHEROKEE
-USCGC STEADFAST
-USCOGARDGRP ST. PETE

Myopia

The main thoroughfare of downtown Fredericksburg, Caroline Street, is a pleasant area filled with an assortment of interesting local businesses, restaurants, antique stores and dozens of junk shops masquerading as antique stores. The numerous side streets house additional stores, eateries and the like.

While pleasant, the main six block stretch of Caroline, from Lafayette Boulevard to Amelia Street is, a two lane, sometimes traffic clogged downtown street with parking available on both sides and sidewalks one could stroll down, once upon a time. Years earlier, when the fad of "outdoor, bistro" type seating became the rage, many of the restaurants jumped onto the bandwagon, setting up tables to accommodate those clientele; encroaching into the sidewalks, rendering them, for the most part, rather useless to walk along.

Efforts over the years to do away with or change parking along Caroline Street have been met with the wailing and beating of chests by local DRMA (Downtown Retail Merchants Association) who claim that closing the street would, in essence, take food out of their families mouths and most assuredly drive them out of business. Claims that are both sensationalistic and specious at best. The DRMA is, in my opinion, narrow minded and myopic; unable to fathom the big picture and advantages of turning Caroline street into a large pedestrian mall. It doesn't take a lot of imagination or foresight to envision the ease in which this can be accomplished and its ultimate success.

First: The simple task of changing the traffic flow on Sofia Street to One Way towards the Chatham Bridge, coupled with the already One Way traffic flow on Princess Anne Street, towards Lafayette would easily route traffic in one large loop around the area.

Second: Closing off George, Hanover, Charlotte, William and Wolfe Streets, one block North and South of Caroline would keep vehicles from mistakenly making turns and having to back out. It would also add additional pedestrian walking area to augment the Caroline St. zone.

Third: The city built a three story parking garage a number of years ago. Although in the heart of downtown, it is sorely under utilized. The garage would provide more than ample parking to compensate for the loss of spaces along Caroline St.

Fourth (and possibly most importantly), blocking off the six block area, bricking it over (or better yet, exposing the cobblestones beneath the asphalt), putting in benches and the occasional fountain would allow individuals, couples and families to safely stroll, sit, stand and socialize along its tree lined streets without fear of being run over by vehicles or having their senses assaulted by the straight pipe and thumping stereo crowd.

All of this would most certainly bring in more visitors and residents to the downtown area. More people means more business. The idea that some national chains might also open stores downtown is not far fetched. It's been known to happen in other towns. More/new businesses means more revenue for both the merchants and the city.

Sadly, many of the businesses are family owned and have been that way for generations. They are stuck in a 1960's mindset. They shout that Caroline St has ALWAYS been the main thoroughfare through the downtown shopping area! They've ALWAYS had parking outside their establishments! How can you even THINK of proposing this terrible idea? With these folks at the helm of the DRMA, new ideas are often times met with contempt. The "We've never done it that way and we're not gonna start now" mindset rules the roost.

Of course, these same merchants also loudly complain the city isn't doing enough to promote them. I say the merchants do little to promote themselves. Most are closed up tight before 6 PM every night because they don't want to be inconvenienced. They graciously offer one whole weekend where they are open late for the holiday shoppers. WOW! One weekend a year!! "Shop when we want to be in our stores, not when it's convenient for you, the consumer!" What a smart approach to marketing your business!

Fredericksburg has a cornucopia of history. Between the Revolutionary and Civil Wars, George Washington's boyhood home right across the river, the city has much to offer visitors, history buffs and residents alike. It could offer so much more, be more successful, more profitable and more welcoming, if not for the shortsightedness of those merchants so opposed to change.

The Village vs Central Park

Recently, Spotsylvania Mall has undergone a face lift. It has slowly transformed into the Spotsylvania Towne Center. Behind the new town center is an area known as The Village. A superb assortment of new eateries, upper scale shops and an entertainment complex that is very tastefully and logically done. The village allows customers to park either within or just outside of its confines and casually stroll the area. There are sidewalks. There are bricked over traffic circles. The Village is a smaller version of Reston Town Center in Northern Virginia. The key here is that customers can WALK from business to business.

Contrast this with the abomination directly across RT 3 known as Central Park. Hundreds of stores amassed on acres of concrete and asphalt that was once home to the Shannon Golf Course. Construction of this 310 acre nightmare was begun in 1995 by the Silvers Company. Initial plans presented to residents and city government indicated a similarity to Reston Town Center. Pleasant and walkable. Due to the "economy" those plans were shelved, never to be seen again.

Nowhere in Central Park is it safe for customers to simply park their vehicle, walk and shop. To do so is to, put it mildly, take ones life into their hands. Try simply crossing any road and you're fair game for every idiot with a vehicle. There is nothing pleasant, enjoyable, appealing or customer friendly about this mecca monstrosity of the retail world. One goes there to shop or eat and then gets the hell out as quickly as possible.

The developers had the grand idea of creating "Uptown" Central Park. A more exclusive section of asphalt mimicking the art deco era of the 30's with neon lighted buildings designed to draw the crowds in a hopeless attempt to "polish the turd" as we say. Two words...abject failure.

The next grand idea to spew forth was the Silvers magnanimously offering Central Park to the City as a new "venue" to celebrate the annual 4th of July fireworks show. Let's see, you take thousands of people, thousands of vehicles, disperse them across 310 acres of asphalt and concrete that have been baking in the Virginia summer sun for 12 hours and tell them to "enjoy the show." Smart!

The Village is an idea whose time has come and arrived. While for years, I avoided Spotsylvania Mall like the plague due to its crappy stores, having visited the reinvented Towne Center and The Village numerous times in the past few months, I find myself doing more shopping, dining and spending dollars there. My hope is that The Village will ultimately be a resounding success. They appear to have learned from the Central Park approach to retail, on what not to do.

The Meaning

Always on the lookout for the strange, abnormal or the just plain weird, every now and again I am rewarded with one of those moments that I am able to capture with a picture.



While walking around Fredericksburg yesterday evening, I came across this house on Lafayette Blvd. I stopped, looked and pondered the meaning of that before me.

Let's see, we have a Driving School, a Podiatrist and The Union Branch of the True Vine. What did it all mean? Ok...I wasn't driving and I don't have any outstanding tickets or warrants out for my arrest relating to motor vehicles. Scratch that off the list. I was however walking. Did I need a Podiatrist? My feet didn't think so, but one never knows. What was this UBTV? Some type of church? As a non believer, I was after all on my evening walk. Was God, in an ever so subtle manner, trying to tell me that not only did he exist, but also that my feet would soon be in need of attention? Kill two birds with one stone type thing? Have my feet looked at and find belief in God! What could be more convenient?

My mind reeled. Yet I somehow couldn't get my head around some imaginary, man contrived deity sending me, of all people, signs. I stared at the house and gave additional thought to the Union Branch of the True Vine.

Maybe the UBTV was a new vintner in town proclaiming their grapes to be some unique hybrid, divined (pun intended) from the mating of two or more different varietals which came together at a Branch. Forming the one and only "True Vine" of grapes, resulting in an extremely rare and exquisite vintage, reserved for the Gods and unattainable by mere mortals. I could almost picture some carny hawker standing there screeching to passersby "Step right up ladies and gentlemen. See and witness the True Vine of the grape! All others are blasphemous and the work of Satan! Hurry! Hurry! Accept no substitutions! Pray to no false grapes! Only one thin dime! Step right this way!"

As I stood and pondered, traffic along the street slowly slipped by, paying me no mind. I pulled out the Kodak and snapped the picture. Drawn though I was, I could not stand there all night. I was due home to cook dinner. Still, I stood, rooted. I polled the other seven voices in my head; "What did it all mean?" Strangely, they were silent. What good are you guys if you aren't around when I need you?, I asked. Continued silence. BAH!

I turned my back on this mysterious residence, crossed the street and continued on my way. One foot in front of the other (still no issues), I wandered down Sunken Road and eventually found my way home.

As I lay in bed last evening, waiting for sleep to overtake, it finally hit me! The answer I was looking for!! This residence I'd snapped a picture of, on which I pondered for many moments, was simply an old house which had become home to a Driving School, a Podiatrist and a Church. An odd combination to be sure, but then again, we live in an odd world. There was no unusual meaning to their being together in this one place, no signs from God, nothing strange. Somewhat disappointed, I fell asleep with the realization that in all likelihood, there was no hidden gem of a vintner breeding hybrid grapes in the confines of the building either.

Damn! I was so hoping to at least get a sip of a wine, fit only for the Gods.

"You've Got Mail" UNSEND! UNSEND!

In one of my former lives, I was both a White Hat hacker and an Information Systems Security Manager. I lived and breathed Information Security (INFOSEC) my entire government career. I sweet talked, cajoled and sometimes beat my head against the wall, trying to teach folks how to stay secure in the electronic world. Especially as it pertains to E-Mail. At one time or another, we've all wished there was an "unsend" button on the damn computer.

As an ISSM, one of my biggest fears were data spills. A data spill is when someone inadvertently sends information across the wire to another person or persons who have no business or reason to have that information. Trying to "recall" that information after it's been transmitted in nothing but an effort in futility. Attempts are made to have people ignore and delete the message, but in reality there's no way to ensure that happens. One must rely on the ethics and integrity of the recipients. In most cases, I'd say Good Luck with that.

I was sitting at home the other evening when my Blackberry buzzed. I looked at the clock and wondered, who in their right mind would be sending me email at this time of night? Curious, I fired up the email client and discovered I'd been forwarded correspondence from a company that specializes in senior level executive search and assessments. Well this was certainly interesting. There was also an Excel spreadsheet attachment.

Still curious, I expanded the email trail and upon further reading determined that what had come across my inbox was business confidential, rather sensitive and had somehow, mistakenly, been routed to me. Of course the disclaimer "This email may contain confidential information. If you are not the intended recipient, you should notify the sender & delete the email & any attachments." was a dead giveaway too.

I started data mining. In less than fifteen minutes and a handful of keystrokes on a couple of professional websites, I discovered who was who. Interesting. One CEO, one VP, a Managing Partner and one Managing Director.

Never one to pass up a "learning moment" such as this (as well as being the sardonic smart ass that I am), I hit the "reply" button and began to compose my response to the sender.

Upon establishing my bona fides, I advised them their email had most likely been misrouted and quickly summarized what I'd discovered about all of the other addressees; who they were, who they worked for, where they were located and what their positions were.

I closed by assuring them, their confidential documents had not/would not be compromised, had been deleted and asking they take my reply in the humorous vein with which it was intended. Then I sat back.

It didn't take long. A few minutes later the reply arrived. I would have given almost anything to see the look of abject horror on their face and the frantic muttering of "Nonononononono!!!...Please, please, please tell me I didn't really do this...oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!!" as they called up their sent mail file. After all, it's not like I haven't seen or heard it before.

The reply was very nice and the sender appreciative. As they say...All's well that ends well. The email was deleted, never to be opened or compromised and if I'm not mistaken, I heard a huge sigh of relief emanating from up North someplace.

"UNSEND." Now that's a button that could make BILLIONS!

PC Revisionists

For those who don't know, the Battle of Fredericksburg was one of the more bloody conflicts of the American Civil War. From December 11-15, 1862, approximately 170,000 men engaged in a one sided conflict that decimated Union troops and for all intents and purposes halted the Northern campaign against the Confederate capital of Richmond.

Recently Muvico opened a new complex in Fredericksburg. One of the amenities is the Chatterbox lounge; whose theme is centered around the history Fredericksburg, which naturally includes the Civil War. An artist was hired to paint a mural on the outside of the complex. The mural which consists of both the Union and Confederate flags, coupled with an American Eagle and surrounded by ornate laurel, including whiskey barrels, was found to be "offensive" by employee Shawn Vena.

According to Mr. Vena, when he complained to a manager, he was told to "shut up and go back to work." Mr. Vena then promptly called on the trusty NAACP. Never ones to miss an opportunity to cry racism and attempt to rewrite history, a representative was quickly dispatched. Upon gazing upon the image and being interviewed by one of the local TV news outlets, said representative pronounced the mural offensive. To quote: "What would it be like if that was a Nazi flag up there for the Jews who live in this area? Would they permit that to happen? Absolutely not! So then why should we?" By "we" I'm presuming she means folks of African heritage, because this lady and her organization certainly doesn't represent me, although I am a person of color. Oh wait a minute, maybe I'm mistaken and white isn't a color.

I have serious doubts the NAACP bothered to talk to Kris Knox, co-manager of the Chatterbox. However, the TV news team did. Mr. Knox clearly and cogently explained the reason for the choice of the mural, which was to "Represent the ultimate union between North and South" after the war.

None of that appears to have mattered one iota to Mr. Vena, the NAACP representative or the black couple who returned their prepaid tickets because the woman was offended and didn't see where the mural "represented her." Let's see, two flags joined together, representing unity after a bitter Civil War, which was fought to make this lady's ancestors free and she feels it somehow doesn't represent her? Were it not for the ignorant, the world would be a very boring place.

Sadly, Muvico has bowed to the revisionists whose only reason for existing is to spend their lives attempting to wipe away any history that doesn't fit into their neat little world. The mural will, sadly, be replaced with the flag of Virginia which, per Mr. Knox, "still kinds of tells the story a little bit." Sigh!

The Civil War was the most wrenching episode in our nations, to date, short lived history. America, as a nation, walked right up to the precipice of annihilation and came terrifyingly close to stepping off into the abyss. Brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, it was bloody, it was ugly and the ultimate outcome changed this country for the better by abolishing slavery. What no one can deny, despite their best efforts, is that the Civil War happened.

Had Mr. Vena or the NAACP taken the slightest initiative to remove their blinders, do a little something called research and insert a bit of common sense and logic before succumbing to the automatic knee jerk reaction to use the broad brush of condemnation to anything associated with the Confederate flag; this whole stink could very well have been easily avoided. Instead, they each chose to play the part of the righteous, pious victim, which automatically negated any credibility they may have possessed.

Alright, maybe using common sense and logic is a little to much to ask of them.