Interesting Times. But, Let’s Not Talk Politics.

It seems that cycling has become a more popular hobby of late, in my hometown anyway, but I suspect the local is not a completely unique sample section. Sure, I have memories from childhood of the group of Sunday cyclers who would clog local roadways in their tour around town, but it seems that more and more regular people are making a more regular habit of donning their cycling uniforms and taking to the streets on their bikes. A friend of my parents, who is a local restaurant owner, regularly bikes fifty or so miles around the metro area. My brother recently purchased himself a new bicycle that he rides around the University campus from class to class. I still have my Grandpa’s old Peugeot that I’d like to restore; I just wouldn’t mind spending some time on two wheels again, as it’s been since my teens that I last really rode a bike on a regular basis.

They are fascinating devices. Today’s carbon fiber wonders with intricate gearing mechanisms make my childhood Huffy look like a dinosaur. The Oklahoma Museum of Science has a small but interesting exhibit of historical bicycles. Although it almost seems there is more lore about the origins of the bicycle than history, it is widely accepted that the first one was invented in 1817 in Germany by Charles, Baron Von Drais. Unlike the modern bicycles that we know, this early example had no drive mechanism, but did sport a padded seat and a steerable front wheel. To all you cyclists out there, did you realize that your hobby turns 200 next year?

Back when foundational garments for women included girdles, these now archaic garments were being made from rubber up until the material was in a shortage due to the efforts in World War II. In response to the rubber shortage, Dr. Joseph Shivers, PhD, working for DuPont, began research to develop a new material that could be used as a replacement for rubber in clothing. Through much effort and perseverance, and over a decade later, he and his team invented “Fiber K,” which was renamed “Lycra.” This fiber stretches up to 600% and returns to its original length, in a slimmer, lighter, and more breathable package than its rubber predecessor. Over the course of the next few decades, Lycra, or Spandex, found its way into specialized garments and textiles in applications so varied and vast that I doubt Dr. Shivers himself could have imagined the impact.

Sometime in the 1970s, purpose-made cycling clothing was made from Spandex blends for competitive cycling. Over the subsequent decades, these clingy garments have trickled from the race track to the aforementioned town cruisers. As I wrote in the original paragraph above, regular people will put on their cycling uniform to pedal the local streets. So essentially, for well over 150-years, people managed to enjoy cycling without junk-hugging Spandex. But, my how times have changed! Now we live in a world where it’s hard to go into a coffee shop without seeing some folks nonchalantly meandering about in their skin-tight bike outfits. That stuff leaves nothing to the imagination!

I kid, of course. At least these people are generally in better shape than your average Walmart shopper. As much as I like to rail on people for fashion (not pants!), I honestly don’t care what people choose to wear. Apparently, there are good reasons to go Spandex if you’re biking the long haul well beyond looks or aerodynamics. Heck, maybe I need to get Grandpa’s Peugeot up and running so I too can justify wandering into the bagel shop clad in nothing but skin-tight Spandex and a pair of Oakleys. I think Grandpa would roll over in his grave.

Local Police – But Let’s Not Talk Politics

I was really looking forward to this election cycle; not looking forward to the results, mind you, as I’m pretty sure the results will be disastrous one way or another. But, the cycle itself, campaigning and drama, it really seemed like it would be great blog fodder. But then, there was just too much material. We all knew campaigning for the general election would get juicy, but this is like trying to drink from a fire hose! I was freaking overwhelmed. So, as to politics, we now have to decide if we’re going to vote for the old, rich, corrupt narcissist, trying to put on a show for the common man, or the old, corrupt narcissist, trying to put on a show for the common man. Or, you could go third party and vote for the pothead, calling himself a libertarian, whose ideals are anything but libertarian. Except for the pot. And oddly, I don’t feel that any of the preceding is all that controversial. But, I said I wouldn’t get into politics, and so I digress…

There have been some palpable changes in our local police department over the last few years. A few years ago, they replaced all the motorcycles in my hometown with these souped up BMWs that have some kind of biometric lock that secures their short barreled ARs to the back fender. How a rifle makes any kind of tactical sense when you’re on a motorcycle is completely beyond me, but they look cool, and I haven’t heard of any hi jinx associated therewith, so I suppose it’s all good. I tried to get an in, to go take pics and blog about the new bikes, because they’re cool, but the receptionist simply took my name and number, and I never heard back from them. *Eek!* That probably means I’m on some list somewhere, of citizens who are just a little too curious about the cops and their motorcycles with mounted SBRs. In the past I’ve had contacts with the local PD that made me nervous, but those are stories for another time. More recently, in fact the last two contacts that I’ve had, however, have been nothing short of exemplary. Put that eyebrow down. One was when I rolled over grass in the median to get in the turn lane (there was no curb at the intersection) and the other was for a burned out tail light bulb. It’s not like I’ve been smoking my tires or drifting through intersections. These were two different officers, and I wish I’d gotten their names so I could publicly laud them, because they were both the shining example of how an official contact should go. They were both appropriately respectful, professional, enthusiastic, and downright understanding. The latter (for the tail light) even went so far as to say, “thank you for carrying a gun. Good people like you, carrying, only make my job easier, so please keep that up.” Yeah. It’s little things like this that make endear me to my hometown.

We don’t watch much TV; heck, we don’t even get broadcast television in our home. Pretty much all we watch is on YouTube, Netflix, or Amazon Prime Video. However, I’ll catch a news broadcast every once in a great while at the house of a family member, or in a public space. Anytime there’s a local event that calls the local media to ask for a statement from the police, it seems like two personalities show up over and over again. There’s a female officer whose name escapes me, but she stands out because of her looks and screen presence. She just has the happiest, most pleasant-looking face you could imagine. She’s got the semi-circle, anime eyes, and bright smile. She really looks like a live-action anime girl stuffed into a police uniform. And, she’s always bright and bubbly on screen. Even when they’ve called upon her to talk about something unpleasant, she manages to deliver in a pleasant manner, still paying due gravity to the situation at hand. You wouldn’t mind getting pulled over by her. When she asked for your license and insurance verification, you’d say, “d’awwww! Yes, ma’am.” I tried to ID her on a Google search, but to no avail. Suffice it to say, it’s pretty obvious why the PD throws her in front of the camera over and over when the media comes a-knockin’.

The other regular Okc TV spokesman that comes to mind is Captain Steve McCool. Don’t bother to image search him, just read his name again. Out loud. Captain Steve McCool. Captain McCool is always… well… cool. And to the point. Whenever he comes on the screen though, Jennifer and I will say in unison, “Captain Steve McCool!” with great emphasis. I can just imagine little seven-year-old Stephen (Steven?) McCool, riding down the street on his bicycle, thinking to himself, “self, with a name like yours, you’re destine for greatness! Someday, I’m going to make Captain in the police department.” I mean, seriously! With that title and name, he sounds bigger than life! Captain Steve McCool sounds like he should be the main character in a spy movie, as a cartoon cat! He sounds like he should be the captain of some great airship, blowing villains out of the sky with cannon fire. I’m just saying the guy has a cool name. I’ll bet he still got made fun of for his name when he was a kid though. If you never got made fun of for your name growing up, please tell me about it in the comments section. Kids can be such little jerks.

The first car I bought after Jennifer and I got married was a 1983 Honda Civic Wagon. That was my second ’83 Civic Wagon, after I totaled my first, which was my first car. That’s a story unto itself. I cranked, wrenched, and painted on that second Wagon until she was cherry. We loved that car. I had her just about perfect when this sixteen-year-old girl in a Ford Expedition meandered into my lane through a curve and crunched the front fender and the edge of the hood. Subsequently, a friend gave me an ’82 Civic hatchback to use for spare parts. The hatchback was a complete car, and I drove it home. It seemed like a shame to strip the hatch for parts, so I sourced sheet metal to patch up the Wagon separately, and made the hatch into a toy. At first, I stiffened up the valvetrain on the original 1.5-liter engine, opened up the intake and exhaust, and stripped the interior and air conditioning, as well as some other tweaks here and there. The engine would redline at around 7,000-RPM, and would spin the front tires from 60-mph. The real trouble was, running it that hard, I couldn’t keep it in head gaskets; as in, every 5,000 or so miles, I’d change the oil and head gasket. So, I yanked the 1.8-liter engine out of a 1979 Accord and shoehorned it in. I truncated the exhaust from there and added a Weber carburetor and a cowl induction hood scoop. I know that’s a lot of lead up to the actual story, but please try to bear with me.

I’d been tinkering on the hatchback (we called her Medusa) one day, tweaking and adjusting this and that, and I wanted to see how my efforts would pan out in real life. So, I wheeled her out to the little road behind our neighborhood. I looked carefully to make sure that there were no other cars or pedestrians. And then, I romped on it. And, I upshifted and floored the throttle again. And then, I saw the cop car behind the trees. I immediately started to decelerate, and the red and blues pulled in behind me. “Yup, he got me,” I thought to myself, as I pulled over and shut off the rowdy four-cylinder. The officer who came to the window was an older gentleman with a pleasant demeanor. It was almost like he’d just walked off the set of the Andy Griffith Show.

“Good afternoon,” he said cheerfully, “I suppose you know why I’ve pulled you over today.”

“I have an idea,” I replied, handing him my license and insurance.

“I was sitting here, watching for drivers in violation of seat belt laws, so I wasn’t watching my radar,” he politely fished for admission, “so I don’t know how fast you were going, but the way you were accelerating, I’m pretty sure you had to be speeding.”

I smiled coolly, and admitted to nothing.

“Well,” he smiled back, handing me my license and insurance, “slow it down, and please be careful.”

“Yes sir,” I said.

In today’s day and age, the police are taking a brutal and unwarranted political beating. The vast majority of the police that I see in action are doing a fantastic job, too, both local and abroad. Of the interactions I’ve had with the police, only a small fraction of them have been negative in the least, and I’ve never been in fear for my own safety. I know I’m preaching to the choir for anyone who ever comes to my website, but I just had to put this out there. These men and women are doing a job that I, frankly, wouldn’t want to. Often times, when I see our local officers around town, doing their thing, I’ll give them a smile and wave. This is my little way of participating in Robert Peel’s Principles. “Hey, you, thanks for doing what you’re doing! Keep up the good work!” I know I said I was going to keep it unpolitical, and I’ve probably skirted politics a little too much by now, but whatever. To my friends in law enforcement, for those of you who I’m pretty sure will read this, as well as those of you that probably wont, thank you. There are plenty of us out here that won’t make the news that approve and appreciate you. Because we don’t block traffic or break windows, we are the silent majority. But, we are the majority, and we very much appreciate what you do. And, at the risk of getting too mushy, I’m just going to leave it at that.

“Super” Tuesday

I’m baaaaaaccckkk!

*cracks neck* I actually wrote up the following piece several weeks ago. But, my blog was thoroughly infested with some pretty nasty malware, and anytime I went to log in, I found that my host had it locked up tight. Good on the host, I suppose, but this led to me not being able to post or even approve comments for what seemed an eternity. Thanks to Wordfence, we seem to have these issues under control now. If you noticed that your comment didn’t actually publish when you posted it here (and there were a couple of you), I apologize, and I think I’ve got you approved at this point. As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve had this written up for a while in a document on my laptop. Seeing as how I can finally post again, and it being Super Tuesday, and all, it seems like the right thing to kick off the continuation of my blogging career.

I disagree with my friends sometimes. Thank God for that! It would be a real shame to only have friends that I agree with on every single detail in life all the time. I think I’m right, and other people have opposing beliefs and think they are right. One of us might be right, and the other wrong, or we may both be wrong, and I have changed my mind on some issues over the years.

I have lost far more friends over politics than I care to discuss. Over politics. It’s not that I’m opposed to being friends with people with opposing views so much as their inability to reconcile our differences of opinion. How sad is that? Sometimes I’d like to have no party affiliation for the sheer bragging rights of having no party affiliation. But then, I’d be depriving myself of the primary election. I want to maximize my voting power, and that means party registry. *It’s recently come to my attention that Independents can now vote in the Oklahoma primary. We may have to revisit this…*

It’s important to me to be able to hold my nose and vote for the giant douche over the turd sandwich, and I usually like the giant douche and turd sandwich that this party offers slightly better than the giant douche and turd sandwich that the other party offers. Occasionally there may be a candidate that I genuinely like, but usually he or she is not even likely to make nomination, much less get elected, so instead of throwing away my vote on them, I’ll vote for the giant douche or turd sandwich instead. It usually comes down to which candidate I hate less.

Therefore, you certainly shouldn’t judge me for which candidate I “support,” because I probably don’t even like them in the first place, and disagree with their policies almost as much as you do. The electoral process is a sacred right, and a civic duty, not an identity. We’re supposed to disagree on how things get done. That’s what makes us awesome.

I shared a hilarious and immature political quip with two friends over the weekend. One of them, whom I have known for close to thirty years, and whose party affiliation I am not even privy to, straight up gave me the silent treatment. He didn’t respond at all. This didn’t shock me, considering his attitude over the last fifteen years or so. The other friend, who is quite vocal about being affiliated with the other party, and whom I have only known for the last couple years, laughed and said, “that’s awesome.” This is what I’ve come to expect from him as well, because he knows full well that I don’t think he’s dumb and smells funny. He and I disagree on issues, but we also have a lot in common. We acknowledge that we fundamentally want the same results, but where we disagree is in the details on how to achieve those results.

That’s called politics. It’s not a friendship deal breaker, it’s a conversation starter. It doesn’t make one of us good and the other bad, it makes life interesting. So, when you meet a Democrat, don’t automatically assume that they want to raise your taxes and take your guns away. Similarly, when you meet a Republican, don’t assume that they hate the poor and want to impose their religious morals on you. Then again maybe they do, but that still doesn’t make them less of a human being! If you assume they don’t understand economics, they probably feel the same about you. See? There’s already something you have in common. So, set your preconceptions aside, shut up, and listen to that other person instead of dehumanizing them to further your fight. I promise you’ll be much happier in the long run.

Whatever your political bent may be, I hope you have voted or will vote in the primary, assuming you are legally qualified to do so. Did I vote today? You bet your sweet peaches I did! Did I vote for whom I believe is best suited to lead our country? No, no I did not. There were three names on the ballot that I think would make a better president than the name I selected. But, as I pointed out above, I don’t think any of them have a snowball’s chance of making the nomination, much less the general election. No, I voted for the front-runner that I like better than the other front-runner. Ironically, I don’t believe he’s going to make the nomination even.

“So, what’s the point?” you might be asking. Well, I’m not going to sit around and not even put my $.02 in when it comes to assigning who gets to be leader next. I voted against our current president twice. My state voted against our current president twice. I’ve had separate conversations with at least two friends who voted for him. We’ve laughed together about how neither of our votes counted at all, seeing as how the state voted against him, and yet the country elected him. Come on, that’s funny!

I know that I’ve probably included entirely too many South Park references in this post, but sometimes Tray and Matt put it better than anyone else can. Anyway, it’s great to be back. I missed both of my readers so much! If you haven’t been out to vote, go and do it! Yes, I’m talking to you. And, be nice to each other, even when you have different values and beliefs. It’s a feature, not a bug.

And Then, There Was Beer Video

Every year, we receive a care package from LuckyGunner.com with some kind of Christmas goodies in it. This weekend, there was a 12-inch cubic box on our front porch from them. I nudged it out of the way of the door with my toe and noted that it had a bit of heft to it. “I bet it’s a ham,” I remarked to Jennifer.

“What makes you think it’s a ham? Did somebody already talk about theirs on the internet?” she asked

“No,” I replied, “but I’ve seen hams packaged for shipping and that’s what it looks like to me.”

We dragged the package inside and opened it up. Not ham. Inside the box was a brand new .50-cal ammo can (sweet!), two 12-oz bricks of ground coffee from Lock ‘n Load Java, and a pair of Pmugs from Battle Mug. Now, I have long wanted a Battle Mug, but I can’t bring myself to pay the near $200 for the billet aluminum version, and I had no idea they were making a less expensive polymer version.

I sat on the couch with my new Battle Mug, stroking it and murmuring about “The Precioussss.” As one does, we have accumulated a lot of bolt-on parts. It seems you get one gun with a rail on it, and they just start turning up. I was thinking over some of the junk that we’ve wound up with to this end, and what I might be able to attach to this crime against nature. And then, it hit me! We have a quick-disconnect 1/4×25 camera mount! And, I’ve got a 1/4×25 tripod to GoPro mount adapter! Scaring my family with maniacal cackling, I took off down the hall and came back with the necessary pieces to secure my GoPro Hero to the Battle Mug.

“Oh no,” Jennifer sighed as I assembled this stroke of genius insanity. As it turns out, my dad’s birthday was on Sunday, and he wanted to spend it at his favorite German-style beer garden in downtown Oklahoma City.

So, there we were, sitting at our bench when the server approached the table. I picked out a beer and asked her, “can you serve it in this?” As I held up the monstrosity proudly.

“Um…” she seemed skeptical.

“It’s like 25-ounces,” I said, as though that had any bearing.

“No,” she clarified, “I’m sure we can work something out, I just don’t want to break it.”

“Oh, you can’t break it,” I assured her, “they throw these things out of airplanes and stuff.”

Indeed, the beer cam was quite the hit. It was a great conversation starter and overall good time. And as promised, beer video:

Note to FCC: None of this stuff was given in return for any kind of review.

I Guess It’s Finally Winter

It’s 34-degrees out there. There’s mixed sleet, freezing rain, and the occasional flake coming down. We had no plans to shop Black Friday. So, we went to the YMCA to swim for a while. And then, in 34-degree winter mix, I went into the liquor store in a Speedo swimsuit. In all fairness, it’s really Speedo-branded boardshorts. And, I was also wearing a long sleeve shirt, fleece vest, and a jacket. But, it makes for a good story anyway. I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!

Kel Tec P-3AT the be-all, end-all test Part II

If you haven’t already, you can read part one here.

This is the first gun that I’ve ever kept a round count on. It’s neat to have documentation that we have put exactly 725-rounds through this little pistol. I kind of wish I’d kept track of how much ammunition I’ve put through some of my other guns. Granted, judging by its condition alone, the M&P .38 special has been shot about a billion times. You’d swear that three quarters of the lead that exists on the planet has been down that bore twice. But, I’d love to be able to authoritatively say how many rounds I’ve put through my S&W 29, or my Winchester 1300, for that matter. It’s been a fun journey regardless.

I wanted to post something on this last week, but I didn’t really have anything to say. The initial range session for this test was just so routinely boring that it would have been the shortest blog post ever. As I wrote in my previous post, when we first shot the gun, I had not even cleaned it, and we put 125-rounds through it. It was still relatively clean after that, but I at least wanted to get the manufacturer’s preservative out of it and give it a little lube, no deep scrubbing necessary. I field stripped the little gun and blasted it out with some Birchwood Casey Gun Scrubber and hit the moving parts with some Otis Bio CLP. I racked the slide a few times and dry fired it a few times to get the CLP in the works. I also used the Gun Scrubber to rinse out my three magazines.

To prepare for the test, I numbered the magazines “1,” “2,” and “3” with a silver Sharpie and scotch taped over the numbers to keep them from rubbing off. I figured we would try to evenly rotate them, and if we started having consistent problems with one of the magazines, we would know to take it out of the rotation. I set up a detailed spread sheet where I could record data – round count, who was shooting, magazine number, ammunition box number, and potential failures.

On Sunday, November 15, we took the gun out to the family farm with some steel targets and clays. Over the course of an hour or so, we put 200-rounds of Magtech (95-gr, FMJ 951-fps) down range with no incidents to note. I shot the initial 150-rounds and Jennifer shot the 50 remaining. It shot flawlessly for both of us. I offered to let Isaac try it again, but he declined. It was nice to get out to the farm at least, and it was a fun range session. I then stripped it for inspection. There was slight wear in the finish on the rails, but nothing else noteworthy. So, I reloaded it with My Hornady Critical Defense and put it back in my holster. Really the most interesting thing that happened was that I got a bloody sore on my trigger finger from where the trigger guard had pounded on it during the range session. Pro tip – if you’re going to pack a Kel Tec, it might not hurt to take some emory cloth to the inside of the trigger guard to smooth it out. Your mileage, of course, may vary.

On Saturday, November 21, we took it to one of the local indoor ranges. this time, we preemptively applied 3M Nexcare foam bandages to our fingers where they’d previously been chewed on by the trigger guard, for a little protection. In this session, the three of us managed to put 350-rounds of Magtech through the little gun. With the gun running like the Little Engine That Could, just imagine how excited I was when we had our first failure at the 421-round mark! I pulled the trigger and got an unexpected “click.” Of course, I unloaded the gun and cleared the spent brass out of the chamber. It was evidently a failure to eject. The good news is that I had my GoPro taking close-up video at 240-frames per second in 720p. The bad news is that it was a lot darker in the range than I realized, so the video came out pretty grainy. Still, we’ll take a look at that later for analysis.

Of course, a failure to eject could be the fault of the gun, the shooter, or the ammunition. By that point in the range session, I was starting to fatigue, although my grip looks pretty steady in the slow-motion video. Jennifer and I are wondering if there’s a perceivable difference in the muzzle flash on the offending round in our high-speed video, which could but would not necessarily indicate an undercharged cartridge. As I wrote above, we’ll take a closer look at that later. Regardless, other than the one failure to eject, this little pistol has run 550-rounds of ammunition flawlessly since I cleaned and lubed it. Subsequent inspection was yawn-inducing, as the gun seems to be in perfect condition outside of carbon build up.

When I first put out the feelers to find a company to sponsor this test, I actually reached out to Kel Tec directly, who didn’t respond to my messages. I found that to be rather damning. It’s one thing that they put a lifetime warranty on their products, but if they won’t even answer a proposal on this kind of test, it does beg the question as to how confident they are in product durability. That being said, I could not be any happier with this gun thus far. It has rewarded me with reliability, durability, and shootability beyond my most optimistic imagination. If by the end of this test, I break it beyond repair, I would gladly pay the ~$250 these guns command for a replacement.

As a side note, This Magtech ammunition has been as clean shooting and as consistent as I hoped it would be. If you haven’t tried it before, and if you need some good plinking ammo, you should check it out! Again, I’d like to give a shout out to Ammunition to Go, who made all this possible with the ammunition donation. When you’re shopping ammo, please do keep them in mind for your needs. They didn’t pay me for a good review, but donating the ammo isn’t the first pleasant experience I’ve had dealing with them.

So, we’re a little over a quarter of the way through the test, and all is well. 550-rounds down and 1,450 to go! If we make it to the 2,000-round mark and the gun is still running strong, I’m thinking of continuing with some different ammo. I have more of the Hornady Critical Defense that I’d like to shoot into water jugs as well as some frangible ball ammo, and another 100-rounds from Richardson Reloading. Although his loads seemed to be a little light for this gun initially, it will be interesting to see if they play nicer together after this much of a break-in.

The Modern Man

My friend Tommy posted a link on Facebook to a NYT article with the same title as this post. Here, I will attempt to correct the errors there in.

1. When the modern man buys shoes for his spouse, she is present and can try them on herself. Why would he ever shop for her shoes without her?

2. The modern man does not lose confidence. Sometimes, when things are rough, he knows that it will get better.

3. The modern man watches movies that are loud enough that he doesn’t have to worry about crunching.

4. The modern man cooks his own steak to a perfect medium rare, whether over fire or in cast iron.

5. The modern man sometimes makes his own parking spot when an empty one is not available.

6. Before the modern man heads off to bed, he makes sure his kids’ electronic devices are not in their room so they’ll actually get some sleep.

7. The modern man buys only regular colas, like Coke or Dr Pepper. If you walk into his house looking for a diet drink, he’ll show you the door.

8. The modern man uses the proper names for things. For example, he’ll say “magazine,” not “clip” like some gauche simpleton.

9. Having a daughter makes the modern man more of a complete person. He lets her play with a machete.

10. The modern man lets someone else do the dishes. He cooks. Fair is fair.

11. “The modern man has never “pinned” a tweet, and he never will.” *I’m not even sure what this means.

12. The modern man gives himself a proper wet shave with soap and a blade before jumping in for a wash.

13. The modern man listens to all kinds of music.

14. The modern man remembers what he needs to buy from the grocery store. The market is no place for his face to be buried in a grocery list, devoid of situational awareness.

15. The modern man has hard floors. His children can detect his mood from the stamp of his cowboy boots.

16. The modern man lies on the side of the bed closer to the wall because the side closer to the door is also closer to the bathroom. Besides, if an intruder gets in, his wife has her own shotgun on her side.

17. The modern man has tools for all kinds of occasions. Especially for food preparation.

18. The modern man has several shoehorns so he won’t damage his shoes, if he can find one of them. He also has a boot jack.

19. The modern man does not buy flower arrangements for his wife, who thinks they’re a waste of money. Sometimes, he’ll buy live flowers to plant in the garden though.

20. On occasion, the modern man is the little spoon because laying on that side is more comfortable.

21. The modern man doesn’t scold. His loved ones know when he’s disappointed.

22. The modern man doesn’t take the newspaper. He gets his news online.

23. The modern man has all of Clint Eastwood’s and Bruce Willis’ films on Blu-ray (or whatever the highest quality thing is at the time).

24. The modern man doesn’t get hung up on his phone’s battery percentage. He has an app on his tablet that monitors that.

25. The modern man owns many guns, in an assortment of calibers and guages.

26. The modern man cries a single manly tear on the rare occasion that it is appropriate.

27. People aren’t sure if the modern man is a good dancer or not. They assume that he would gyrate to music as a lad, but he’s got more important things to worry about now that he’s grown. Although he has considered taking ballroom classes with his wife.

Kilted to Kick Cancer 2015

Most of y’all already know that September means wearing a kilt. I wear a kilt to raise awareness and funding for male specific cancers. Yes, all September. Here I am at the liquor store:

DSCN0871

Why yes, I am carrying a .45 in that photo. The shop’s proprietor, “Mom,” asks me every year why I’m wearing a skirt in her hard Korean accent. I’ve tried to explain, but English is not her strongest understanding. This is just part of the job. Over the next thirty days, I hope you’ll support my efforts in this endeavor. There will be challenges and promotions. I’ll do stupid things to earn your sponsorship. Please be gentle. Go here: link. Donate and tag my name to your donation. It’s a great cause and we’ll have fun.