Mar 042014
 

I don’t trust emotions.

I keep them on a short leash, ignore their outbursts and refuse to acknowledge their urgings, In spite of my efforts however they continue to disrupt my life. I call their influence evil because I can’t discern their intent or manage their force. They pay no attention at all to reason and logic.

I know that I’m supposed to go all weepy and sentimental about emotions. After all, love makes the world go round but I can’t- I resist with every fiber of my being. I won’t let them get the upper hand. Yet, still they root around deep in my being and mess up my well-ordered life. A pox on emotions!

Emotion is driving the bus.

Emotion is driving the bus.

Looking back, I can’t find any point in my long life where emotion did me any good. Letting emotion lead has always made things worse, not better. It’s the curse of being human. Clear thinking and logic are invariably subverted by muddle-headed, headstrong and erasable emotion. Primal needs trump logic every day and I say enough. Lizard brain, be gone.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I feel a bit better. Somehow, it seems that God messed up creating mankind. Why give us a clear and logical mind that can analyze, parse and plan and then undermine it with an emotion-driven engine that steers it’s own course. Maybe God, in his infinite wisdom, knows what he is doing but it is hard to find any justification. From my perspective, on the front line, it looks like a curse-not a blessing. Continue reading »

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Feb 032014
 
20100710 - our yard - oil spill from Carolyn's...

Image by Rev. Xanatos Satanicos Bombasticos (ClintJCL) via Flickr

I guess I can’t blame Justin for this weeks topic- unless he subscribes to the Chicago school of voting and stuffs the ballot box. I have to blame the readers for the ridiculous choice of oil stains as  this month’s topic. My personal choice was Bat guano, principally because of the mellifluous way it flows off the tongue although I certainly appreciate the boost it gives my garden. Readers, it seems, have minds of their own and this month, our readers demand oil stains. So be it.  As I see it, oil stains cover the range of life experience and are an unsightly but necessary part of life.

Early oil stains

As a kid, I was blissfully ignorant of oil stains and the problems they create for a housewife and mother like my Mom. In general the way to avoid problems around the house was to wear ‘work clothes’ doing anything messy. So long as I had clothes that didn’t need to look immaculate – meaning oil and paint stains among other things and I wore them doing messy things, my mother was cool. What drove her crazy was my pillow cases.

Keeping my carefully maintained ducktail took lots of heavy duty hair creme– a polite term for the grease that kept my locks shiny and in place through an active teen aged day. We didn’t have the high tech goo that kids today use to make their hair into lethal weapons. We had grease. It worked well but the downside was the big oil spot on my pillow case. It didn’t bother me. What did I care about a greasy spot on a pillow case that nobody would see. For my mother, however, it was a challenge to her housekeeping prowess. At first she tried to get those stains out but eventually she gave up since there was an endless supply of grease. In the end I got my own dedicated pillow case, easily identified by the big oil stain where my head rested each night and my mother made sure that a bedspread always covered the offensive pillow case during the day.

But there are bigger oil stains!

Beyond my own personal oil stain experience, the demands of modern civilization have produced oil stains of much bigger impact- I’m talking about oil spills. Most of these involve accidents with oil tankers spilling immense quantities of crude oil into the ocean and the subsequent staining of adjacent beaches. Entire industries developed to deal with the environmental damage from theses spills boosting the local economies wherever these accidents occur. The most recent staining event was the blowout in the Gulf of Mexico last summer. Although the blow out finally stopped, the cleanup efforts are still under way. The Gulf spill was the biggest one yet, we have had some doozies over the years,  as this summary of the largest oil spills in history will show.

But there are more examples of oil stains

But there is yet another kind of oil stain which may be even harder to remove than crude oil or bryllcream. That stain is produced by the oil from the democratic process in action. Good old oil of vitriol. Like we saw in the marble halls of the state house in Wisconsin this past week. There was a lot of the old oil of vitriol flowing there  and it doesn’t seem ready to stop. Oil stains in marble aren’t easy to remove but since vitriol is essential to political dialogue, statehouse cleaning crews are always ready to meet the challenge.

Unsightly but necessary.

Oil stains, it seems, are a unavoidable in modern life, whether on a personal basis, economic basis or a political basis. Life gets messy and one of the consequences is oil stains, We could probably create a world where oil stains don’t happen but it might be a pretty unpleasant experience. It would be a world without the modern conveniences we know and love like the automobile. We might have to shave our heads to ensure that no unruly locks are out of place. Finally we might have to accept that democracy and the freedom to express our thoughts and feelings is just too untidy so we need a dictator to keep everything clean and neat with no oil of vitriol staining our public places.

Yeah, this coot doesn’t like oil stains but he has learned to put up with them because freedom is worth way more than perfect cleanliness.

 

 

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Feb 032014
 

In insecure moments, of which I seem to have far too many, I ask my wife if she will miss me when I leave to run errands. This seems to bewilder her but she manages to offer some encouraging comment to send me off. I suppose since I’m always around, the concept of missing me just fails to resonate with her. I’m no fan of country music but sometimes only a country-western song can explain life’s mysteries so simply. “How can she miss me when I won’t go away?”

Missyou

Please go away.

Well, I trust that Cantankerous Old Coots readers don’t have this problem. I’ve been away for six weeks. At this point it is fair to ask, “Did you miss me?” I don’t expect an answer sincereadership here at COC is apparently a secret pleasure. Expecting a comment or encouraging response to a post is too much to ask. Management and staff alike are conditioned to perpetual silence from our readers- even as their numbers continue to grow. Perhaps there is another country-western song out there to explain this but this Coot doesn’t have the stomach to listen.

What I do know is that I missed composing posts for COC. You might think that bitching about life is the easiest thing in the world but the truth is that, all things considered, life is much better than any of the alternatives. When I sit down to bitch, before I know it, I start thinking about how good things actually are and my complaints seem trivial and contrived.

When I sat down this morning, I was ready to lash out about our unresponsive readers, complain about Justin’s demanding management style and Bob’s extended honeymoon. I was prepared to add a few comments about food shopping and pickpockets in Peru with a some asides about foreign airports. Mysteriously, my annoyance and venom seem to have faded. Collecting and organizing my thoughts, I find that the issues that annoy me are pushed aside by pleasure in connecting once again with our COC readers.

Maybe readers haven’t missed me for the five week absence. Maybe even going away isn’t enough to generate a sense of loss without my posts, but I find that that doesn’t really matter to me. What matters is that I missed you.

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Jan 012014
 
English: Modern bronze statue of Julius Caesar...

English: Modern bronze statue of Julius Caesar, Rimini, Italy. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I am really excited to have a guest post here on Cantankerous Old Coots.  It seems so long since there has been any activity from my fingers that hasn’t included building a site for an actual paying customer that this really does seem like Ralph Carlson blog part 2.  But, Ralph is in Rome trying to walk in the footsteps of Caesar and hopefully miss out on the end of that story.  Ralph has traveled a lot over the past couple of years, this is his second time to Italy, and he spent Christmas in Buenos Aries.  One of these days he is just going to stay somewhere and we will get vague tweets and requests for ransom money.

 

 

But I digress.  Again.  Where is this whole blogging thing going?  I am not sure I hate the world enough to be as cantankerous as I need to be.  Living in my little bubble of ignorance is great, but not as far as a good rant is concerned.  Sure Bob keeps me abreast of the Gestapo tactics that the government of the good old USA is adopting, and the Stalinistic tactics of the NSA, but I feel that it is more Bob’s purview to write on those things.  I am too busy getting ready to build a bunker in the mountains.

I have seen what apathy does to a blog.  I have seen what furious posting does for this blog.  The worst part?  They are not that much different.  So is blogging dead for me?  No.  Do I need to prioritize better? Yes.  Do I need to keep pumping everything I can into an actual paying job?  Yep.  I have promised before to write more.  I am pretty sure that my writing and a lump of petrified dinosaur crap will get you a wry look and a “Yea, ok.  Good luck with that.” response.

The future?  Keep building websites for money.  Blog when I feel like it.  Hope that Ralph doesn’t end up in some Roman orgy jail.  Think about doing another podcast.  Sleep.  I am not sure anymore.  My kids are out of school and, well, my brain is fried 3 weeks into it.

Back to work on that other site.  That actually pays money.  From this point on to be referred to as Stalag 13, without Hogan.

stalag13

-Later, I hope

-Justin

 

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Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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Nov 112013
 

Well after a rather spirited Thursday, we are staring right down the barrel of the weekend, and not just any weekend, but Easter Weekend.  This is not  going to be a diatribe about the origins of Easter, most of us should know that by now and this is not my Sunday School class, that was last week.

What I want to talk about today is the traditions that have sprung up concerning the holiday.  Now, besides the religious part of Easter, the spring festival idea has given rise to the Easter Bunny, egg hunts, Cadbury Creme Eggs, and those damnable Peeps.  This is what I am on  about today.

The Easter bunny brings magical gifts to the boys and girls as well as hiding their eggs.  I must say my favorite part of this aspect of Easter is the Cadbury Creme Eggs and the deviled eggs that come from the lovely colored things that the kids enjoy so much.  But how much is too much?   Easter does not rival Christmas for gifts but good grief Gertie, what do we have to spend on Easter presents?

So this is the part where you guys get to input.  What have you done with your kids in the past or what do you do now?  I can remember a few toys in an Easter basket and that was all.  We would usually go down to my Grandparents house and spend Easter in the desert shooting or hunting for worm’s teeth so one year I got a brick (500 rounds) of .22 shells.  That was pretty good.

But really, where do you draw the line and how much do you have to do for the kids?  Or is it just the mainstream retailers that are nailing us again trying to get more money?  I am putting a cap on the $$ that the Bunny get this year and it ain’t going to be much.

I would still love to hear your thoughts and what are your plans for the weekend?

Let me know in the comments or by email, USPS is too slow.

Have a Happy Easter.

Justin

Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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