Ya' know, I've been bitchin' and rantin' bout this fer so many years I know it jus' gets tiresome and redundant BUT...recently, I wuz watchin tha' TeeVee and there wuz a news show on depictin' some Israeli folks re-enactin' some pilgrimage from Biblical times, and they were all wearin' traditional robes and trudgin' along this dusty road and some were on camels and this one dude on a camel had his robes and all too...but what set him apart from all the other Pilgrims...were his shades.... and the fact he wuz talkin' on his cell phone!

C'mon dude, ya' wanta' re-enact a Biblical scene? Then leave yer fuckin' shades and cell phone at home for a couple of hours huh!! I mean, sheeit!

The next thing ya' know, altar boys will be hangin' around the tabernacle, rappin' away with their gurl friends, and meanwhile Father is standin' there waitin' for the wine, and the hosts, whistlin' Broadway show tunes...and while he's waitin'...whut the hell… he may as well order a little Chinese for after Mass, y'know. Meanwhile, durin' this 'worshippin' intermission', the rest of the congregation will be pullin' out their phones and takin' care of that all important business that jus' can't wait. Bill in tha' back, talkin' to Harry up front, wonderin' whut tha' spread is? I ask you, where will it all end?

Well, as ya' know from past spewings, I am a strong advocate for harsh penalties fer peoples who use their cell phones while drivin'. Severe fines...with some slammer-time fer repeat offenders seems to me to be a reasonable solution to a vexin' problem...and furthermore, I see no reason why this shouldn't be expanded to include peoples ridin' around on camels or horses or cows...or bicycles or scooters, or pocket rockets, (pocket rockets. now there's a story all by itself) or whatever! If a person is goin' to operate a vehicle...or an animal...on a public street, then they should take their phone and stick it up their ass until they reach their destination. And while this might be a bit uncomfortable for them, it might in fact save their life. Or somebody else's.

Did'ja realize that peoples talkin' on their phones while drivin' have accidents at the same rate as drunk drivers. This is true!! And yet those same individuals will rant and rave about drunk drivers, and the dangers they pose, and how we need to get tough on them, and take away their licenses and throw them in the slammer, and then they'll get in their SUVs and think nothin' of blabbin' away for fifteen minutes while they drive mindlessly home from work...through rush hour traffic, no less!

Ya' know, Native Amerikuns (formerly known as Indians) had enough sense to get down off their horses before sendin' out any smoke signals. They understood the dangers of 'rappin and ridin'. Ya' ever see a picture of an Indian dude ridin' along, sendin' a message out to his buddies after the game, "Hey yo, how bout those Chiefs!!" Naw, I don't think so!

But hey, I'm a reasonable person. I'm willin' ta' compromise. I'll let ya' talk on yer phone while drivin' and I'll leave ya' alone...if ya' let me drive home drunk and ya' leave ME alone, cuz I'm no more dangerous than YOU are!! Ya' know, most of us drunk drivers are responsible peoples, who pay attention, drive tha' speed limit, and try not ta' knock down telephone poles on tha' way home...it's just a few 'bad apples' like the guy who runs into tha' school bus doing ninety mph the wrong way killing 5 or 20 pre-schoolers who give the rest of us a bad name. But then, on tha' other hand, ya' see on tha' news about a guy who runs into tha' back of a construction vehicle on tha' highway doin' 70, while talkin' on his phone, who didn't hit his brakes until he wuz right on top of it!! Man!! I wonder whut he wuz talkin' bout??

I'd be willin' ta' bet money that I could drive an obstacle course while at the legal limit of being drunk better than 50% of sober peoples drivin' tha' same course talkin' on their phones answerin' simple questions like, "What's 11 times 12?" or "Count backwards from 62 to 39" or like yer gurlfriend askin', "Where ya' wanta' eat tonight?" Hey, fer one thing ese, I'm gonna' have BOTH HANDS ON THA' WHEEL and CONCENTRATIN' on my DRIVIN' and not some barely audible voice comin' in my ear! I'll take tha' bet anytime! Call me. We'll set it up, cuz I'm gonna' win more often than not. (You catch tha' drinks) We jus' needs to keep everything in perspective.

So remember this kids, de Capm, he say...

"FRIENDS DON'T LET FRIENDS RAP AND DRIVE!!!"

Cuz the life ya' save...may be MINE! Ya' dig! I wants ya' ta' think about that tha' next time ya' get behind tha' wheel and start to engage in a conversation on yer phone,

"Is de' Cap'm out dere?" And...ACT RESPONSIBLY! the capt

My friend Dorothy sent this to me...a sign in the subway in NY that said,

"Don't let Depression get you down"

Solid, huh!

the cap't

Maybe ya' recall last Monday I told ya' I had gotten rid of my pesky mufflers, which were mufflin' tha' sound of my ride waay more than whut I wanted. With the mufflers on tha' car, there wuz no VROOM VROOM at all, ya' dig!!

So, I jus' did away with 'em completely. Now, with jus' tha' straight pipes there's mo plenty VROOM!

So fer this past week I've been VROOMIN' all over town. VROOM VROOM here, VROOM VROOM there, VROOM VROOM everywhere! Every time I come to a stop I find myself, without even thinkin' bout it, rippin' off with a loud VROOM VROOM and SHRIEKIN'' of tires. I don't know whut's tha' matter with me, ya' know, cuz I'm actin' jus' like a dumb fuckin' teenager,

(TEENAGER; see Raging Hormones) but as we all know, I'm waay past that. Well, ya' would think so anyway, huh?

So, whut's goin' on here? Maybe some young punk Demon teenager has taken possession of me. Maybe I'm in need of a little exorcism or somthin', but nah, I don't think so. I'll take an El Paso on th' Mumbo Jumbo.

I can't explain it; it's jus' that that Rumblin' Throaty Sound is so addictive. Tha' mo' I hears it, the mo' I wants ta' hear it! It's a vicious cycle, y'know and I can't seem ta' break it! If only there wuz some support group I could attend, or Better yet, some medications I could gobble. On the other hand, maybe I'm tha' only one sufferin' from his Relapse into Juvenility. Maybe it's only a temporary state of affairs and this is jus' the Storm before the Quiet.

I don't really know myself, but I'm sure any day now, a light's gonna' go off in tha' dim recesses of my brain and I'm gonna' come to my senses once again and resume my role of Responsible Mature Adult Citizen. (Please stop with tha' groanin' and snickerin' here)

In tha' meantime, if ya find yerself out on tha' roads and ya' hear an ear splittin', roarin', rumblin' noise, this could be an indication that a tornado is in tha' neighborhood...or...it could mean that tha' Cap't is approachin', and in either case, tha' prudent thing ta' do would be ta' pull over to tha' side of tha' road and seek shelter IMMEDIATELY. the cap't

I had a rather amusin' drunken conversation with a “just turned 21”- year-old punk about 2:30 this morning. He wuz philosophising to me 'bout, y'know, LIFE and heavy duty stuff like that, tha' Meaning of it all. It wuz Enlightening. I thanked him fer sharin' his insights and openin' my eyes to so much, "GEE WHIZ! NO KIDDIN'!"

Cuz y'know, like bein' 62, I'm jus' gettin' outta' tha' startin' gate and there's soo much I can learn from encounters with peoples such as him. Course, it makes it kinda hard later on ta' get ta' sleep cuz ya' got so many new ideas and concepts rattlin' round yer brain that ya' wanta' explore and there's jus' no way ya' can jus' shut down all those neurons from firin' and explodin'. the cap't

MY NAME IS CAPTAIN HOOHAH AND I APPROVE THE PRECEDING MESSAGE.

A few days ago a buddy hipped me to his former gurl friend's secret recipe for cornbread. I don't know whether ta' tell him or not that somebody else besides him has evidently blabbed about it cuz...it wuz on tha' side of tha box! Not so secret any more, eh! Ha ha

On tha' other hand, maybe she wuz jus' leadin' him on, like, "Hey baby, treat me right and I'll share my secret recipe fer corn bread with ya'."

If this wuz a “secret” she shared with him, we can only conjecture 'bout the nature and content of other “secrets” she may have laid on him.

In any case my corn bread wuz rather un-spectacular. Tha' color and texture were fine, no complaints there, but there jus' wasn't much flavor. I think I may have gone too light on tha' creamed corn portion.

Oh well, there are still more tomorrows and new horizons ta' come. I'm jus' gonna' have to “execute” better next time out, cuz y'know boyz and gurlz, thas' whut this “corn bread game” is all about; EXECUTION! I'll be baack! the cap't

I remember some years ago, like, twenty at least, when a buddy and I were sharing a house. We'd been living there for about 10 months and things were in a pretty much “state of strain.” There wuz a lot of tension in the air, all tha' time. Although we were good friends, we jus' weren't very compatible room-mates, to say the least. I'm sure you've had the same experience yerself.

Well, one day in the middle of the summer, I wuz in the kitchen, honing my culinary skills. This wuz often a point of contention amongst us cuz he didn't properly appreciate the artistry of some of my works. (and he didn't like smoke either, ha ha) So, I wuz in there preparing myself a pot of chili. He comes into the kitchen and sees what I'm doing and sez, in a real exasperated, annoyed voice, "Charley, what the hell are you doing?"

Picking up on his tone immediately, I said, "Whut do you mean, 'What in the hell am I doing'? Whut the Fuck does it look like I'm doin'? Trollin' for marlin?"

He rolls his eyes, yeah, rolls his eyes and sez in a patient, condescendin' tone and manner, like he's talking to a six year old, "Charley, It's August...(pause) It's summertime...(pause to let that sink in). It's 100 degrees out. (now the clincher) You. Don't. Eat. Chili. In.The. Middle. Of. The. Summer! You only eat chili in the winter, when it's COLD! Chili is a seasonal food! See, that's why restaurants say, "Available in season".

This reasoning wuz a bit much for me. I kinda' went off, and said, racheting up tha' volumn, and spitting a lot in the process, "You stupid Fuckhead! You dumb shit! There's prolly' 40 million peoples down in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California right now who don't know they're not supposed to be eating chili ...CUZ IT'S SUMMERTIME!...and one doesn't eat chili in the summer! Yeah, right! Go ahead. Fuck! Next time yer down in the Southwest somewhere, you tell those folks that, “Hey hombres, hold on, hold on, alto! We only eats chilli in the wintertime, comprende?".

I can jus' hear their reaction.

"Wha' choo say? Chinga tu madre, cabron! NOW, you tell us, huh ese! Next, jou gonna' say we not sposed' to meex our chilli with eggs either, huh?! Fuckeeeng Gringos!"

Tryin' to tone things down a bit I held tha' pot towards him and I said, "Here, try some. Go ahead man. C'mon, be bold! Be adventuresome! Push the envelope! Be all ya' can be! TRY SOME FUCKIN' CHILI IN THA' 'OFF SEASON'!"

He shook his head, turned, and slammed tha' door on his way out.

Fuckeeeng Gringos!!

captain hoohah

Did'ja happen to see in yesterday's paper where in Cass County? They had some 22 county employees workin' with backhoes, and shovels and machetes and such rooting up these marijuana plants that grow wild all over the place. Yer tax dollars at work. They're loadin' it up in trucks and haulin' it someplace where they're gonna have themselves a big bonfire where they'll all no doubt be chantin', "BURN THE DRUGS!!! BURN THE DRUGS!!!"

They call it "ditch weed" cuz, well it grows a lot around ditches. This is not cultivated marijuana mind you, this is just the wild version that grows all over the place. Good fer makin' ropes and cloth and paper maybe, but as a means of gettin' 'high' it's totally worthless. And ya' got this clown sayin',

"Any time you keep drugs from getting to the streets, it's worthwhile."

Sheeit. Ya'd have a better chance of gettin' drunk on "near beer" as ya' would of gettin' stoned on that shit. No one would mess with that worthless junk anyway.

They accomplished absolutely NOTHIN' cept to waste the salaries of 22 peoples and assorted equipment. For the War on Drugs! Whut a fuckin' joke!

And as far as eradicatin' the crop, Ha ha. It would be like sendin' those same peoples out on a hot summer day armed with fly swatters in hopes of keepin' the fly population in check. the cap't

P.S. Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Is there an election of some kind goin' on there in Cass County? Is somebody there tryin' to show the electorate they're tough on drugs? I mean, hell, there mus' be SOME reason for the fuckin Stupidity of it all!

I am a Procrastinator. Thas' right and I have been all my life. And I'm still very good at it. Although I'm older and more mature now, I'm just as adept at it as I wuz when I wuz a young, dumb, irresponsible teenager. Age hasn't slowed me down one bit.

I'm not braggin' y'unnerstan', jus' statin' facts. Like, as an example of my prowess in this feld, take my mail fr'instance. (please, somebody, take my mail) Right now my mailbox is jam packed, crammed full. I don't know how the mail/Person squeezes any more mail in there. Hell, I dunno maybe he doesn't any more. I don't see how how could. I mean, sheeit, there isn't any room fer any more.

My mailbox is on my front door. Each day as I come in and out of the crib several times, I pass within one foot of it. It's right there on the front door!! As I come in I always look at it and think, "hmmm, I've got mail. The box is full. I ought to take it in the house. Maybe there's somethin' important in there?"

And then I say to myself, "Oh, I'll get it later." And bypass it and walk on in the door.

It's been, oh, maybe nine or ten days now. As I sit here writin' this, my front door is about fifteen feet away. I'm not really doin' anything at the moment, jus' layin' round, readin' a book and writin' this. All I would havta' do is walk over there, open the door, reach in. and retrieve my mail. It would take about ten seconds. It would be that easy!

But ya' know whut...I really don't feel like it right now. Maybe I'll get it tomorrow?

Y'know......maybe? the cap't

Ever since I wuz 16 years old and a legitimate teenager, I always wanteda car that went VROOM, VROOM, ya' know whut I mean. But fer one reason or another I wuz never able to realise my dream, until recently.

So, a few weeks ago, in quest of that sound, I paid this mook 200 bucks a' put some supposedly high performance (and loud) mufflers on my 5 liter Mustang. I wanted it ta' go VROOM VROOOM!

But wait, Ooooh, I wuz bitterly disappointed!! Cuz whut I wound up with wuz a sound that would make yer grandmother's Toyota sound like a hot rod by comparison. It wuz QUIET dude. Didn't make a sound. THIS wuz not whut I had spent my jack fer.

Since then I've talked to a number of peoples tryin' to figure some way to salvage some of tha' money I'd already spent. I wuz gonna drill holes in tha' mufflers in a desparate attempt to get Some kinda sound outta' it, but wuz talked outta' that.

So today, in a drastic move, I solutioned the problem and accomplished whut I wanted originally...I simply got rid of the impediment to the sound I wuz lookin' for...by ELIMINATIN' the mufflers completely!

Yeah, thas' right! See, without the mufflers doin' their, y'know, MUFFLIN thing altogether, with that sound comin' straight outta' tha' manifold, right back out tha' rear, with nothin in between, Whoooo man, it's like VROOOM VROOOM VROOOM to tha' MAX! Can ya' dig it!

Now...after this simple procedure, any teenager (or teenager 'wannabe' such as myself) would be tickled to death at tha' sound. Try this yerselves boyz and gurlz on yer own ride. Ya'll dig it, cuz it's a POWERFUL sound!!! the cap't

P.S. Tha' only drawback to tha' whole thing is; well, it's illegal! Horrors, eh. Heh heh. See, now it won't pass a safety Inspection when ya' go to renew yer tags. hmmmm, well I have some time to think on that before I gotta' deal with it. In tha' meantime, when yer wakened up early in tha' mornin' outta' a sound sleep, wonderin' when they installed a drag strip in tha' neighborhood, don't fret; it's jus' tha Cap't on his way home.

I hope I got yer attention with that line, cuz like so many others, I wuz lookin' for some way to use the word, "powerful".

Have ya' noticed an increase in the use of this word lately? Well, I have. I'm hearin' it almost daily from one place or another. Course the word has always been around, and has it's legitimate uses, y'know, like,

"He is a powerful man in the industry." Or maybe, "It has a powerful engine."

Thas' perfectly OK. Nothin' wrong with that, cuz the word generally means to possess energy or to have authority.

But I'm starting to hear it now used in ways that mean "moving". Like, the first time I noticed it wuz a few months ago. I heard this guy, describing the movie, The Passion to his buddy in a very heavy somber tone, he said,

"It was a very POWERFUL movie man!"

I think the dude had been listening to too many movie reviewers. He prolly uses the word "quirky" too, as in, "a quirky little movie."

Now I'm hearing about

"POWERFUL books!"

"POWERFUL messages!"

"It was a POWERFUL story!"

Y'know, stuff like that.

Listen up. Pay attention to yer ears, cuz yer gonna be hearin' this word a lot more. On the other hand the word does have possibilities tho. I think maybe we should replace the all encompassing, ubiquitous, "Awesome" with "Powerful" instead. Y'know, like as in describing an event,

"Oh Man, it wuz POWERFUL!"

or "We had a POWERFUL time!"

These media peoples pick up on buzzwords and phrases and then jus' do them to death. Hey, did'ja ever read or hear a story bout teenagers without the obligatory phrase, "RAGING hormones"?

Ya' absolutely mus' include this in anything even remotely connected to teenagers, cuz, like, they all gots those raging hormones!

Have ya' noticed how nothin' increases, or simply rises any more; everythin' "skyrockets". Y' know, bread goes up two cents a loaf and we hear bout the "skyrocketing" price of bread.

With football approaching, we will be getting the whole repertoire of football and sports cliches. You will hear this one fer sure from some one on a team who has lost the first few games,

"We're not worried. After all, this is a marathon, not a sprint!"

Yeah, we get that several times each year.

Are we on the same page here boyz and gurl? C'mon, les' get on the same page, huh!. Whut about a level playin' field? Can we get a level playin' field? And "big time". Thas' a good one. I always remember with fondness an observation John Madden once made,

"BIG TIME players...

make BIG TIME plays...

in BIG TIME games!"

Ya' got that boyz and gurlz? Leave it to John to articulate the essence of the game so even fuckin idiots like me can grasp it. Yeah, and I always get a kick out of it when some one throws a touchdown pass and it's referred to as a "home run,” or when a play is described as a “knockout punch.”

Have ya' ever seen a sit-com, and I don't care which series it is, cuz they've all done this one, every single one of them, without exception:

Some one is talkin to some one else, sayin' bad things about a third party, goin' on and on, and they stop, when they suddenly realise the person they're bad-mouthin' is standin' behind them and has heard everything they jus' said, and they usually get an embarrassed, guilty look on their face and say, "They're right behind me aren't they?"

Oh, thas' another good one!!

Sheeit. It's jus' terrible. We live in a society where we are drowned and smothered in an avalanche of cliches, slogans and sound bytes daily. Some peoples would simply not be able to express themselves without them. Whut would happen to these peoples if they couldn't exclaim, "Ohmigod" or "awesome" fifty times a day? They would be draggin' themselves about the streets, vacant eyed, babblin' and droolin', unable to communicate with any one.

And especially here around election time. I mean, look at the clichés and slogans the marketing peoples, who run the election campaigns, throw at us to capture our minds and cloud our powers of reason; the hype, the propaganda, the disinformation, the dishonesty, the hypocrisy, well, it's all just disgustin' to me.

But sheeit, the politicians and their handlers, those aforementioned advertisin' crews, sellin' their Product, know we're incapable of understandin' anything but the simplest of slogans. I think this years election will come down to which ever candidate's marketing posse can come up with the shortest, yet catchiest slogan. Fuck a bunch of immaterial “issues,” who gives a shit about stuff like that? Gimme a good slogan I can get my teeth into and mindlessly chant with a bunch of other gullible morons. In public, they refer to us as, "The Electorate", Behind closed doors, well...they calls us lotsa' things.
"Have a good one." the cap't

(Yesterday I wuz in a conversation about the weather during the summer of 1987. Today I want to go back to April of 2001. Surely (and I'm not callin' you Shirley either) you recall how it rained and rained for days on end with apparently no let up. I wrote This...about That.... Then.)

Cap't Hoohah, muti-purpose Guru, does the weather 04/ 03/01

Perhaps ya've noticed, boyz and gurls, that it is rainin' today here in the neighborhood. How could ya' miss it, eh? And ya' recall, it rained yesterday and the day before, and it's supposed to rain tomorraw. When I say this, ya' know whut I'm talkin' about, "It's been rainin' a lot' lately."

Now peoples come up to me and say, "Cap'm, whut's it gonna do next? When will this cursed rain go away?"

They're lost and confused see, and need guidance. They're wantin' some assurance that everthin's gonna' be all right again. They're tied of the gloom and despair. They wanta' see the sun peek it's way thru the clouds.They wanta' see a blue sky fer a change. They jus' want someone to give them Hope. This is where I come in.

Unfortunately, ya' can't always get whut ya' want, cuz this is whut I tells 'em,

"RAIN FOR THE NEXT SIX MONTHS.... THEN CHANGING TO SNOW!!"

and they go, "Arrrgggh!"

Now, I'm sorry cuz I know thas' not what ya' wanted to hear, but don't take it out on me, cuz, like, I'm jus' the messenger here OK? Contrary to the impression some weather forecasters might give ya' I'm not really in control of the weather. Peoples say,

"Well, sheeit, Cap'm, jus' how in the hail can ya' say this? Whut are ya' basin' this perdiction on anyways?"

Now, I hate to give away trade secrets, but whut the hell. Basically whut I do is; I don't fuck around with no godammed Live Doppler Radar and other like-minded meteorological mumbo jumbo foolishness like that.

No, whut I do is; I read and interpret fresh cat intestines! Y'know, lookin' fer telltale patterns and alignments and so on. Ya' could describe it as a 'gut feeling' if ya' wanted. OK, so, Watch the skies, boyz and gurlz, we'll see who's right! Weather Guru at large, the cap't

P.S. Should You be of a mind to try this method yerself, and do yer own weather forecasts, jus' remember this; the key word here is 'fresh'.

(It turns out my prediction wuz wrong, but sheeit, thas' jus' the way it goes in the weather predictin' game, ya' know whut I mean! Some times yer Right, and then again, sometimes yer not)

Every week, on Thursday, I take this elderly lady to the beauty parlor. As I escort and help help her in to the car we discuss the weather situation of that exact moment.

"Mmmmm. It's pretty windy today, isn't it?

"Yeah, pretty windy all right."

After she gets in the car and on the way to the beauty shop, which is about a five-minute drive, we discuss whut the weather wuz like earlier in the morning...and did it rain last night? We talk about the weather the day before, contrastin' it with today's weather. And as we near our destination, we conjecture on whut the weather might possibly be like tomorrow.

Ya' never can tell aroun' here. Y'know, "Will it rain? Will it snow? Will it be hot? Will it be cold?" That sorta' thing.

When I pick her up to take her home two hours later, we compare the current weather with the state of the weather when she went in.

"Does it feel cooler to you now than it was earlier?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it; I think maybe it is a bit cooler."

"The weather forecaster says we might get some rain this evening."

"Oh really?"

And then, of course, we both comment on their unreliability, and how it would be foolish to make yer plans based on their predictions. "Ya might as well read tea leaves. Ha ha"

"Wouldn't it be great to have a job and get paid for being wrong half the time? Ha ha"

We always get a chuckle out of that one.

This conversation has been goin' on fer six years now. Weekly! With hardly any variation...until today!!

Today, we talked about the weather in the summer of 1987! August to be exact. Dig this, we're now talkin' bout the weather 17 years ago! Ha ha. Did'ja know that it wuz unseasonably cool from August 21st to August 27th that year? No jive. Check it out if ya' wanta', but take my word on it; this lady knows her weathers!

I got to wonderin', about her focus on the weather tho and like, whut would happen to her if the weather wuz Cancelled indefinitely? Or else...if it maybe decided to move to St. Louis or somthin', without givin' any notice? How would she fill “the Days of her Life?” Whut would she do for conversation? How would she spend her time? How would she 'cope'?

I'm thinkin'...should something like this ever occur, idle hands bein' the Devil's Workshop and all, maybe I could interest her in assuming the care and furtherance of my Sesame Seed Collection (many of which are suitable fer framin'). It sounds like a swell idea to me. It would provide her with a Goal and a Sense of Purpose, and a reason fer keepin' on keepin on'. I think I'll try and interject that question in next Thursday's conversation. the cap't

Aw'right boyz and gurlz…as a result of several skeptical emails I've received from friends who knew me back in the early ‘80s, who challenged my assertion of bein' an Ace hardware store...I'm gonna' havta' cop out to it, and it grieves me greatly to do so, BUT...I jus' made that all up! It wuz all a big lie. I am not Now, nor have I ever been an Ace, Westlake nor any other kinda' hardware store! There, I've said it.

There wuz never any ol' codger at the libarry, and that conversation never happened. I never actually started out to deceive anybody; I jus' got carried away. I wuz jus' actin' out a long standing fantasy and now I feel so cheap and tawdry.

I jus' thought peoples might think more highly of me if they thought I used to be a hardware store and that it would add a certain mystique and elan to my image. It wuz an egregious error of judgment on my part and I know I've let a lot of peoples down, especially the youngsters who looked up to me, knowin' I would always be straight with them, and now... this! Whut kind of pitiful role model am I now? Mea culpa...

but, oh wait...whut the hell am I thinkin' ese? Dayhm. It occurs to me once again...where is my mind? Sheeeit..this is the Internet...I'm not bound by any rules of truth, ethics or morality...I cn' write any godam thing I wanta' regardless...

OK, OK, les' start all over. Les' act like ahm' de' Judge and You is de' jury, and I sez to you,

"Ladies and genamun', I hereby direct you to totally disregard everything written here up to this point.

Put it out of yer mind as tho ya' never read it!! Do ya' understand me!"

And you, as da jury, do exactly that! Ya' got that!

FAGGEDGABOUDIT!

OK, so here we go again....one more time

Subject: Further reflections on the encounter at tha' libarry

Ya know boyz and gurlz, thinkin' of that old dude and the memories he evoked, made me stop and remember, and here ya'll have to scuse me a bit, cuz I normally don't like ta' brag about my accomplishments and all, but I am pretty darned proud of the fact, that during tha' time I wuz the Ace hardware store.

I wuz simultaneously a World Class Art Museum!

No jive! At the very same time. (see above fer "simultaneously") And, quite frankly, I don't think Anybody has ever achieved that kinda' double coup before. I've never told any one bout this, before, see, cuz as I mentioned, I'm just not the kinda' guy who goes aroun' tootin' his own horn…but still...as I said, an Ace Hardwre Store AND a World Class Art Museum...and I'M PRETTY DARNED PROUD OF THAT! the cap't

P.S. Oh yeah, I fergot, jus' before the old dude went lookin' fer his chainsaw, he said to me over his shoulder, "By the way Ace, kudos on the Carravagio acquisition." And I gotta' admit, I beamed at the remembrance, and stood jus' a bit taller.

(Remember whut de' Judge said!)

OK boyz n' gurls, here's something that a lot of peoples who know me, Don't actually know about me; see, back in the early ‘80s I useta' be an Ace Hardware Store, complete with a wooden floor and everythin' else. Thas' right! And although, it's been, like, over 20 years since I wuz closed, every now and then, I am reminded of those old times.

Like yesterday, fr'instance. I was down there, by your Plaza library annex, ambling about, and I guess ya' might say I wuz 'shelf-surfin', when this weathered old geezer came up to me and said, in a scratchy,wheezin', voice, "Say pard, I know you! You used to be a hardware store didn't ya'?" and I kinda grinned and said, "Yeah, but that was a long time ago".

And he sez further, "As a matter of fack, you used to be an Ace Hardware Store, weren't ya'?"

And i replied, "Yeah, thas' right ol' timer! Man, ya' got a good memory!"

He said, "Well, y'know, I'm not so very good at rememberin' faces and all, but I never ferget a hardware store! By the way Ace, could ya' tell me where the chainsaws are?"

I sez, "Yeah sure pop! They're in aisle 8."

"Thanks Ace! Good seein' you again."

And I said, "Yeah, me too! Glad I could help.” And he shuffled off down aisle 8 looking for chain saws.

Sometimes, it does one good to be remembered fer yer earlier accomplishments, ya' now whut I mean! the cap't

I heard a real shocker on the news earlier this afternoon. I wuz drivin' my car at the time and literally had to pull over to the side of the road, while I pondered the implications. I was completely flabbergasted! Whew!

It seems that someone discovered that low income families were not gettin' access to the Internet to the same extent that affluent families were! GASP! I told ya' it wuz Shockin'!

They further deduced that this may be because lower income families were not purchasin' computers at the same rate as their more affluent neighbors were, thus creatin' an ever widenin' Computer Literacy Gap! (I guess ya' can't buy computers with food stamps, eh!) Once again. WOW!

I'm suspectin' as these peoples delve further into this sociological phenomena, they may discover that low income folks do not buy as many Mercedes as those other folks either; preferrin' instead to wheel about town in their rusted out 73' monkey-shit-brown Vegas.

And they might further discover that poor folks don't take their holidays in the south of France all that often either, seldom making “The Scene” at Cannes, fer some strange reason, preferring the environs of Branson, MO or some such similar place. Well of course, as we all know, "Po' folks just got po' ways"

How else explain such inexplicable behavior?

It will be interestin' to see jus' what other transgressions these "Minimum Wage and Welfare Deadbeats" may be committin' right under our very noses. It's peoples like these that stubbornly refuse to get on the bridge (you remember that Bridge!) with the rest of us, that's holdin' this Great Country back. They whine and snivel that they needs their money fer rent, and to feed and clothe themselves, (boo hoo hoo, let em' eat cake, gimme a break) thereby leavin' their dwellings bereft of the 21st Century electronic tools they are going to need. One must needs ask, "Just where in the Fuck are their Priorities, anyway?"

Thank god fer a vigilant press to keep us informed on these laggards! the cap't.

Today I received this letter:

"Dear Capt. I have enclosed part of the bag from the Cape Cod Potato Chips you recommended recently. Frankly, I didn't really care for them and I would like DOUBLE my money back as per your claim. I paid $1.98, so you owe me $3.96 cents, Sincerely, blah blah blah."

Well, this is my response:

"Dear Valued Customer, Yo dude! I owe you $3.96? Yeah right! The fucking turnip truck went that-a-way. If ya' hurry, maybe ya can still catch it!!"

the Capt.

P.S. "Oh yeah, the tooth fairy will be glad to have yer current address as yer owed some monies in back payments, which were undeliverable due to wrong address. Watch your mail."

Sheeeeeit. Just who does this guy think he is? Well anyway, I will honor, of course, all legitimate claims. It's just that this prick fronted me just a bit too much Attitude for my taste, if you know whut' I mean! I hate arrogant, pompous assholes. Tha' dude says he, "really didn't care for them".

Yeah, right! Hey, I know a scam when I see one! How fucking blatant can you get?! Then...then...the asshole has the sheer gall to sign it,

"Sincerely"

Yeah, "Sincerely", as in, "I am sincerely trying to fuck you over!!"

Well...Not today Ace!!

signed, Sincerely Really, the capt.

OK peoples, get out yer calendar and a pencil and make a big circle around Sept. 17th. Thas' a Friday. Thas' the day!

My son Jason's band, the fabulous PHONOCAPTORS out of St. Louie, will be rockin' at Mike's Tavern, 5424 Troost.

I know it's a bit early, but it will give all you out-of-town hep cats plenty of time to cancel yer plans for Puerto Vallarta, or where ever ya' wuz plannin' on goin', and Re-schezule! See ya' at Mike's. the cap't

P.S. And I would like to re-assure local KC residents, that contrary to whut ya've heard lately, St. Louis is not actually the DEVIL'S DEN and those who come from there aren't really his minions, so yer soul will be safe!

I almost forgot; Happy Enola Gay Day! the cap't

P.S. And don't forget Bock's Car Day is coming up on the 9th, so be sure and get yer fireworks ahead of time.

I received word today that my favorite great Auntie died in an accident last night. She was 99 yrs old. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing though. You know how it is. On the one hand you think, "Well, 99 years old that's pretty good, huh". I mean, a lot of peoples don't make it that long.

On the other hand you think, "Well, she coulda' have made 105."

Various members of the family were always trying to get her to accept the fact that she wasn't as young as she used to be, and to act accordingly, but, being a strong willed, independent type person she refused to change. Ironic! Isn't it?

Trampled to death at “the Who” concert last night in Toronto. Ya' just never know. the capt.

Captain: "What's the situation, Sarge?"

Sarge: "It's quiet out there Cap'm."

Captain: "Yeah. Too quiet if ya' ask me!"

I am soo pissed. Just a little earlier I decided to prepare one of my culinary extravaganzas for which I am so well known. Some peoples don't even know me as the cap't; they jus' calls me De' Chef. Well, enuff' self aggrandisement. I decided to fix myself up some chicken-fried steak, smothered in a creamy white gravy, with some corn on the side, and of course some mash-ed potatoes.

So like, I wuz readin' the instructions and it said:

• cut and remove film cover from beef steak and potatoes. (I did that)

• microwave on HIGH 4 1/2 minutes. stir potatoes. (no problema)

aw'right, now here's where it gets kinda dicey cuz next it said,

• continue microwaving 4 to 11 minutes.

Wha' the fuck! "4 to 11 minutes"? Thas' quite a range there isn't it? I mean, whut in the fuck-all should one do now? I wuz totally bewildered and baffled. I paced tha' floor in confusion fer a couple minutes. I hate decisions like this. Finally I flipped a coin, and "11" won. So I hit the 11 minute button. 11 minutes later, BING! Next instruction read,

• let stand 2 to 3 minutes in microwave oven. (clear enuff')

• CAREFULLY remove tray and film cover as PRODUCT WILL BE HOT. (well, no shit. it's been in the forking microwave for 15 1/2 minutes now, I guess it oughta' be kinda' hot, huh?) and finally it said

• serve.

Well, thanks for that last bit of info, cuz I wuz wonderin' "Whut am I gonna do with it now?"

"Serve". Ha ha. Those peoples at Banquet got a real sense of humor, cuz like, everythin' wuz well done, I mean, like, REELEY, REELEY well done! Sheeit! The gravy had basically evaporated, couldn't get a knife thru the two meat patties, the corn was shriveled up and the potatoes, well...DISASTER.

But hey, look here, I'm not gonna take this lyin' down tho, peoples. I'm gonna sic my solicitor on those assholes. I want my 1.09 cents (plus tax) back! Remember this, when next yer at the supermarket; De Cap'm sez, "Beware the Banquet!! the cap't

P.S. Can ya' imagine, had I had guests and I had served that to them? I'm pretty sure some peoples might have wondered, "Gee, considerin' the cap'm's culinary rep and all, quite candidly, I'm a bit disappointed here."

"I'm sure you will hear many times about the faulty math exhibited in this brief but useless bit of thoughtless rambling. A penny would be way too much for the thought process that is on exhibition. You have lost $9.70 a day under the capitan math method and this is perhaps the reason you have fallen short of recognizing the potential millions which could be made picking up pennies." — ed

Follows my humble reply:

"Well thanks ed for pointing that out and yer absolutely correct in yer assertions. I wuz figuring on 8 hrs@5.15 which would be $41.20 or 4,120 stoopings, but I hit the five instead of the four, and, dumb me, didn't even realise it. Then I further fucked up by writing the $41.20 as $41.50 for which I have no explanation whatsoever, therby missing the mark by the $9.70 figure you mentioned.

You were further correct in pointing out, that the whole exercise wasn't even worth a penny, which is also true, since I don't even get paid the worthless penny for any of this shit to begin with. I do it humbly and simply for the Good of the Planet.

HOWEVER, in spite of my inexcusable mistakes, I still stand by my conviction that if ya' wanta' stoop over and pick up pennies, why you go right ahead and be as STUPID as ya' wanta' be! the cap't

I continue to be totally baffled by our government's position vis-à-vis Cuba. I can make no sense of it whatsoever. (Although, I do have a theory.) We have had a trade embargo against them for close to forty years, I believe. Amerikan citizens are banned from visiting the country. We have just tightened visiting restrictions among former Cubans to visit their relatives there and to send them economic aid. And to what purpose? Are they getting ready to invade us or something?

We have better relations with North Vietnam, a country which inflicted 58,000 Amerikan deaths and several hundred thousand casualties on us in a ten-year war, yet you can visit there if you wish.

You can visit China if you like, and Amerikan businesses are drooling at the untapped markets there. Meanwhile, we continue to buy anything and everything from them. It's hard to find things here any more that don't come from China. We even bought the black berets our Army troops wear from them. Can you imagine that! And the Chinese don't exactly have the best human rights record, but what the hell, when it comes to the bottom-line, which is what we're all about, those kinds of little details can be overlooked.

If you would like to visit Russia, yes that Russia, the very same former “Evil Empire” itself, or if you'd like to invest some monies there, go right ahead. I mean, hell, this is only the country we were involved in the Cold War with for almost fifty years, but we can let by-gones be by-gones. There's bidness to be done.

But Cuba; now that's a different matter for some reason. It's crazy! I mean, even Bush didn't include them in his “Axis of Evil.” He hasn't even hinted that they may be harboring WMD's, or chemical, or biological weapons.

It must have something to do with Fidel himself. When he dies, I think you will see a rapprochement with Cuba immediately. My theory is that he may have been involved with JFKs assassination in some way. After all, it's been well known and documented that JFK had tried to assassinate Castro for a couple of years, even to the point of using the Chicago crime family of Sam Giancana (you remember him. he and JFK shared the same gurlfriend, what was her name, "Judith Exner" I think) to pull off the hit.

So, it is not far fetched that Castro might have gotten a bit pissed at all these plots to whack him and decided to hit back. And it's also possible I think, that we knew there was some Cuban involvement, but since we couldn't prove it, or else chose not to admit it, we then decided that for as long as he was in power there, we would NEVER normalise relations with Cuba and would continue to hinder them in every way possible. Course, I could be wrong. What do you think boyz and gurlz? the cap't

P.S. You know, a couple of years ago I dreamed I wuz selling used cars at Crazy Fidels' and I won't go into the details, but the sunuvabitch scammed me out of my commission. Man, I wuz pissed! We got into it. We stood toe to toe, nose to nose, and I wuz waitin' for him to blink....but then I woke up. And it pisses me off I never got that satisfaction of the blink, even to this day. Now, I know..I know... it was only a dream... but still, I can't help it, I still hold it against him. Maybe, jus maybe…somebody in high places had a similar dream years ago, and jus can't let it go either.

I hear this sentiment expressed from time to time, usually by gurl peoples, and it's simply not true. Like, fr'instance, I wuz havin' a few beers with a buddy of mine this past week. We were just babbling bout' this, that and the other. Y'know, jus' typical drunken loon-speak, and It wuz about 2:30 of the AM variety, when the bartender called “last call.” I said, "Hey, ya' want another?"

He said, "Naw, I gotta get outta' here. Gotta' get up early in the mornin'."

I said, "Sheeit, hey c'mon, What? Tomorraws' Saturday. Ya' don't gotta go to work, so whut's the problema?"

He said, "Naw,but I gotta start drinkin' at seven!"

I said, "Oh, well, I can dig that. Thas' different."

See, now, if thas' not Commitment, whut, pray tell, is? the cap't

Jason from St. Louie, who is a friend of my son Jason, sent this to me last week. Thought it was kinda amusing. I paraphrased it slightly.

Bush gave a big speech last week about how his faith is sooo important to him. In his attempt to convince the American peoples that we should consider him for president, he announced that his favorite Bible verse is John 16:3! (I wonder alla' time what his favorite pizza is?)

Of course the speech writer meant John 3:16, but evidently nobody in the self-righteous, God-fearing Bush camp was familiar enough with scripture to catch the error. And do you know what John 16:3 says? John 16:3 says;

"And they will do this because they have not known the Father nor Me".

Oops, The Holy Spirit works in strange way, huh? Ha ha.

Now, I don't own a Bible so I cannot personally verify for certain whether John 16:3 actually says this or not. But then again, I'm not a Journalist, (note the capital J) so I'm neither required morally nor legally to justify my ramblings. This is the Internet after all, not the New York Times. Ha ha. Hey, but ya' Know I wouldn't bullshit ya!! Well, in any case, "God bless Amerika and God bless George Bush too." in spite of the fact he's a fuckin' Idiot. (in my opinion) the cap't