Patrick’s Rants

Dr. Dobb’s | They Said it Couldn’t be Done: Diebold Voting-Machine Hack Announced at SD Best Practices | September 13, 2006

Do we really think that a paper trail isn’t necessary? When there is no way to verify that your vote was counted the way you want it then voting might as well not exist. Regardless of which party you belong to, this is outrageous. If we can get real democratic elections in Afghanistan and Iraq, then we should be able to get them here. Assuming that things weren’t rigged “over there”.

Yesterday I went to the post office to pick up an item they claimed was too big for my PO Box. They give you this yellow card with the box number on it and a check mark for why they couldn’t put the item in the box. In this case it was a box of dvds that we had ordered as part of a multi-century push to update our video library by replacing the VHS tapes with cheaply priced dvds. Now, I’m no stranger to the post office here; I used to know all the clerks by name and they knew me as I was in there every day for business. Lately though, I only recognize about a third of the counter clerks. The others have either all moved on to something “better” or retired.

These days, I’m usually asked for ID when picking something up from one of the “new” clerks. Some days, it works and some days it doesn’t. See my wife hyphenated her last name when we got married - not something that I thought would ever give me a hard time. Sometimes things come for her previous name, sometimes just the new part of her last name and sometimes it’s the hyphenated name (why do women put up with that?). I once was not allowed to pick up an item from my PO Box since my last name didn’t match hers. This despite the fact that I’ve had that box for 9 years and the address is on my driver’s license. What I did not have that time was the yellow slip so I guess I was suspect. I mean anyone could have any address put on their driver’s license (maybe that’s true, haven’t checked into it) and be smart enough to know that right now there’s a box waiting to be picked up at that address.

I understand that fraud is a big thing these days, especially ID theft but they aren’t gonna catch Osama by forcing me to show ID. Besides, I think I saw him driving a mail truck on “the rez”.

It’s amazing how “Politically Correct” we’ve become.

I remember my mom using the phrase, “colored kids” when referring a couple of kids she had seen lurking around an empty house in the neighborhood. The reason I remember it so well is that I couldn’t understand how kids could get crayon all over themselves and stay that way. I was five at the time and I had never heard that term before and truthfully at five I don’t think that we see skin color the same way as when we are older. I have friends of all races and none of them refers to themselves as “colored”. I mean we all are to some extent.
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The radio commercial starts out, “If you feel the need to lick Dorito dust off your fingers in public, feel free.” Or at least that’s how I remember it. It goes on, “if you feel the need to lick Dorito dust off someone else’s fingers proceed with caution.”

Apparently, it’s ok to lick “Dorito dust” off a stranger’s fingers so long as, “they are enjoying it as much as you are.”

My wife and I - when I say my wife and I, I mean I - drove down to Phoenix this last weekend in the new car. The truck as lovely as she was, is being sold to the highest bidder (if only I can get some bidders). The “new” car is a used Hyundai Sonata, which the four year old butchered into “Sunday De Nada”. It only fits five of us but since the oldest was spending some 13 year old time with a girlfriend this worked out all right and gave us the chance to put the car on the highway.

We were supposed to stay in town for the weekend, but my wife’s grandmother had a stroke this last week and ended up in the hospital. The bad health is not totally unexpected, she has diabetes that she fails to control properly.

We hung around the hospital room for several hours while friends and family filtered in and out. Many friends talked about how much she has “done for them”. Grandma is an active member of the LDS church and is always in the middle of cooking for some event or other.

Towards the end of the evening “Aunt Martha” shows up with a cast on her arm. Seems she went to Ikea with her grandkids - one is learning to drive. On the way in, out in the parking lot Martha has a losing bout with gravity and then picks a fight with the ground. She is in a pretty decent amount of pain and decides to visit the Emergency Room to see if she sprained or otherwise hurt her wrist. Not wanting to waste the trip to Ikea though, her and granddaughters enter the store to shop and buy those $.50 hot dogs and a Coke. It is only when the water dripping off the make shift ice pack starts bothering her, the wrist is turning colors and swelling that she decides they better leave.

Sometime during this process she calls my mother-in-law to ask if the hospital that we’re visiting grandma in (a good hour, maybe hour and a half drive from where she is) might be able to look at her wrist. Mom-in-law says, “it’s a hospital, I’m sure they can take care of something like that.”

As it turns out, she decided to visit an ER closer to where she was. To top it all off, she’s telling the story to the guy in the ER who tells her that since she’s on Medicare parts A and B that Medicare will send a bill to Ikea. At this point she’s sure that it will be a while until she can visit another Ikea store - $.50 hot dogs or no.

White 1986 Jeep Commanche Pickup looking for a Jeep lover who wants to rebuild my 2.5L 4 cylinder engine as a weekend project.

I’ve got a good body, a nice long bed, custom wheels, a tool box to hold your “junk”, chrome rear bumber, winch-ready front bumber.

My previous owner went and bought a car and can’t give me the love that I need.

Kelly says I’m worth about $1200, but to the right owner I’m priceless.

If you have what it takes to get under my hood send me an email: Jeeplove@rwcinc.net
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