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Seventeen years later, it’s a new year (almost)

The end of the year is one of those times when many people take stock of their lives. I guess 2015 was better than 2014 although I have had many better years. I lost only one close friend and a cousin this year. My medical condition is probably better than the year before. I still suffer from chronic pain and diabetes. I have made strides in lowering my A1C and hope that during my next blood test I will find it at or near an acceptable range.

One thing that has not changed, is my automobile. I thought about this while returning to my pickup truck this afternoon after buying a few odds and ends at Kroger.

My 1998 Toyota Tacoma has some scratches and a noticeable dent in the back, passenger side of its bed.

I am living in the same town in which I bought the truck, Beaumont, Texas, back in December 1997. Although, there was a seven-year period during which time I lived in Central Texas rather than the Upper Texas Coast where I currently live.

A couple of months after buying the truck, I moved to Waco – whose boosters consider the city as “The Heart of Texas” — where I worked my last full-time job from 1998 to 2015. That is a whole other story, perhaps hundreds of stories, as I worked as a journalist. I should say, though, this post is a look back or, perhaps a story, about that maroon pickup of mine that now registers 175,000 miles on its odometer. Perhaps mileage is more important than time anyway. My late brother John, a character if there was one to be had, said whenever someone told him he looked older than his age: “It’s not the years, it’s the miles.”

I looked at the small scratch this afternoon that extends nearly the length of the passenger side of my vehicle. That happened not long after I moved to Waco. I stayed at a hotel for quite some time and I returned home one evening to find some man who was visibly shit-faced. He told me: “This is my parking space. You need to move.” I told him there were no assigned parking places there and that I was not going to move my truck. Later, in my room, I heard what sounded like an awful metallic sound. I looked out the window and saw the same man. He was “keying” my truck. I wanted to yell “What the f*** are you doing you ass****? But I was concerned he might start a fight or worse. This is Texas after all, where men with guns are everywhere. I opted instead to call the local police department in the small suburban town north of Waco where I was living.

The police officer talked to the man and took my report, but did not arrest the vandal. He said he could only do something only if the cop actually saw the drunken fool committing the crime. The officer said I would need to come to police headquarters during working hours and file a complaint.

Just minutes after the police left, out came, once more, the drunken criminal mischief-maker. The troublemaker was hovering around my truck as if he intended to do more damage. I called the cops once again. The cop returned and told the man to get back to his room and stay there, or else he would go to jail for drunkenness.

I filed charges and found out that the man who damaged my truck was arrested and jailed, then soon was released on bail. Someone told me, maybe the suburban police officer, that the man had an argument with his wife that night and checked into the motel.  I don’t know how long it took the case to be disposed of through the county court. I think the charge was classified as a Class B Misdemeanor because of the amount of damage he did. Eventually, the vandal pleaded out and was assessed probation and was ordered to pay me restitution for the damages. I got the check for the amount of money the body work would cost. But I needed the money more than I needed body repair so the scratch remains to this day.

There are other scratches on the pickup from times both remembered and not. A number of tiny bumps can be found on the roof and hood of the truck, the product of at least one particularly intense hail storm near Dallas. I had spent the weekend with a friend when the storm hit. I looked out the window of his house and found the ground covered in white, as if it had snowed. Goodness, gracious, great balls of hail!

More recently someone must have backed into my truck bed, leaving a noticeable dent. Oh well, the scratches and bumps lend a certain amount of character to one’s wheels. I would tend to agree if someone would tell me that these bumps and bruises lower the value of the truck. Nevertheless, I have received several offers for my ride. One day I might just take up one of these offers for the right price. I had about $1,900 worth of repairs made on various mechanical issues this year. That is definitely the most I have spent repairing the truck during the 17 years I have had it. The old Toy-ota still runs well, receives much better mileage than before the repair – definitely a good deal since gas prices here have fallen to $1.50 per gallon – and my old pickup truck built during the last century is street legal.

What more does a man need?

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Border Patrol sure spends a lot of time on I-10

Hidy hi friends and neighbors. I realize it has been a week or so since I last published but, well, you probably don’t want to hear my lame-ass excuse so I will just leave it at that.

Yesterday, I traveled across the border —  of Texas and Louisiana — to Lake Charles for a visit with my brother. He is recuperating in a hospital following a quadruple coronary bypass.

Somewhere between the Texas-Louisiana border and Lake Charles, I spotted the tell-tale white and green SUVs used by the Border Patrol. I think they are called “Customs and Border Protection (CPB)” nowadays although the two trucks sitting in the median of I-10 bore the traditional name of Border Patrol.

I wondered what they were doing there in Southwestern Louisiana less than 30 miles from the Louisiana and Texas border. I see Border Patrol trucks in Beaumont once in awhile but never stalking motorists, at least in this part of the country.

A couple of scenarios about Border Patrol hanging out on I-10 in Southwestern Louisiana, came to mind. Perhaps they had intelligence about some truck coming out of Texas hauling illegals. Perhaps they were making stops of anyone with a brown or olive complexions. I would not be surprised if the agency, part of the Department of Homeland Security, was out there to protect the homeland.

A CPB agent cuffs a Mexican national. Border Patrol photo
A CPB agent cuffs a Mexican national. Border Patrol photo

I found out by searching the Web that the Border Patrol has a station in Lake Charles because, like Beaumont, it is a port city. I also found that a “port of entry” station is located in Port Arthur that also serves Beaumont. The Border Patrol has a number of stations and checkpoints throughout the South and Southwest. Perhaps the most notorious of those can be found at Sierra Blanca, on I-10.

Since 1974 the Border Patrol or CPB as it is now known has maintained a checkpoint near the small town of Sierra Blanca, which is almost 80 miles southeast of El Paso — as the crow flies. Every car traveling east on I-10 must enter that station. It wasn’t much of a big deal from 1977 to 1984, the times during which I most traveled through the station. Back then, the exercise was much like entering back into the U.S. from Ciudad Juarez to El Paso. You didn’t come to a complete stop, most of the time, and would be on your way if you answered the question — Nationality? — from the border agent as “American.” Sometimes there were random checks. I never went through one there in Sierra Blanca, thankfully. I went through a not-so-random check once while riding as a passenger in my friend’s car returning to El Paso.

My friend, who is Mexican-American, said the Border Patrol kept a database of cars that had been involved in previous incidents such as a stop in which pot had been discovered. I don’t think he had ever been busted at the border, but perhaps a friend was wanted on some charge.

So in El Paso, the big German Shepherd dope dog sniffed all through my friend’s car. I knew with reasonable certainty that no pot that was carried back from Mexico. Brought into Mexico, well … ? The dog was sniffing like crazy at what was a portable bar in the trunk. My friend said it was possible some weed had been stashed in it at one time. The agents couldn’t find anything on the car or on us, so there we went on our merry way.

But that was then and this is now. The Border Patrol these days has dogs that supposedly can sniff out drugs of all kinds — and possibly explosives or gun powder — when a vehicle drives up. The people get caught, more often than not, with small amounts of marijuana. It is quite routine in Sierra Blanca, Texas.

Those with many famous names have been popped and eventually taken to the small courthouse in Sierra Blanca where often-overwhelmed deputies will many times write a ticket for possession for a small amount of pot. Among the celebrities were Willie Nelson and Snoop Dog. This process, and how it reflects on a portion of the drug war gone very badly, is told in this excellent Texas Monthly story written by Al Reinert. The writer, who co-wrote the screenplay for “Apollo 13,” was arrested with a small amount a couple of years ago and tells a very entertaining story though it depicts how millions of taxpayers’ dollars are doled out on small-time pot busts in Sierra Blanca.

The checkpoints are numerous in the Southwest. If you want to transport illegal drugs, you best go through one of the checkpoints without drugs and buy them somewhere like Kansas City and head to wherever it is you are going. Then good luck with all the small towns who all have their own drug dog.

I know the CPB does very important work and are a big part of preventing people like the San Bernardino terrorists from killing more Americans. Perhaps the current homegrown or self-radicalized terrorists we are facing like to get high, although it doesn’t seem like any self-respecting Jihadist would be your average pothead. Still, I hope those two Border Patrol trucks I saw yesterday on I-10 in Louisiana aren’t spending their time trying to bust a person with a small amount of marijuana. There are more serious tasks.

It also seems as if these days with all the danger we supposedly face in the homeland, a bong hit might not be the worst treatment for what ails you.

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GOP senators want more guns. Local students call the cops.

It turns out this shooting in San Bernadino, Calif., is more complicated and much likely terrorism of some sort.

This incident takes many paths much like 9/11 but, the pathways are potentially more dangerous if you can get a handle on that. We face threats ahead, some are from our own political hacks. Republican senators shot down (sorry) a bill that would allow those on the FBI’s terror watch list to buy even more guns. The GOP says nothing can be impeded in buying guns. It’s guns, guns and more guns! Our own Texas GOP Sen. John Cornyn, was responsible for that great legislative move. Old bastard, he needs to retire so our Texas voters can vote in another crackpot like Ted Cruz.

I was thinking yesterday how the NRA and its supporters here in Texas want everybody armed and that those Texans should wear those weapons on their hip. That might pose a challenge for some people carrying long guns. I mean, people armed with a handgun would be outgunned with people like this couple in California. Unless! Unless the NRA decides everyone should buy AR-15s or big freakin’ tanks!!!

At least our younger Americans are learning a good history lesson, Unfortunately, some of those lessons are not so good.

Police in Beaumont, Texas, where I live, received several calls during the early afternoon yesterday, saying gunshots were being fired at a Beaumont school district alternative disciplinary center.

 “On Thursday, December 03, 2015 at approximately 2:40 pm Beaumont Police dispatchers received a 911 call of “Someone shooting at Pathways Learning Center, Beaumont Police Officer Jose Ornelas, said in a press release.

“First Officers arrived at 2:47. the caller called a second time at 2:52 saying they are still shooting, Officers began to enter the school and searched room to room and hallway to hallway. The caller made two more calls and said they were passing ‘Target’ (the store) at that time it was determined that the caller was on a school bus. Dispatchers contacted the Bus Dispatchers and advised the bus driver to stop the bus.”

Police found three students, ages 11, 15 and 17 on the bus. Ornelas did not say what the officers did with the kids. Officers did file reports for “Abuse of 911 System.”

The police spokesman said 15 Beaumont police officers responded to the call along with a school district police officer.

Just another day in the life in Beaumont, Texas, USA. The land of guns, guns and more guns,

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Navy launches missile. Southern Californians freak out.

Living where I do there are all sorts of catastrophes that are waiting to happen. I say that in light of all the supposedly “terrified” folks in the Los Angeles area who freaked last week when they saw a missile test just after sundown. The Los Angeles Times newspaper reports that a second and final missile was fired this afternoon off the California Coast.

Everywhere, at least in SoCal, people are “skeered.” At least that is what the media reports.

Be afraid. Be very afraid. Navy photo of nuclear anti-sub rocket in 1962 from the destroyer USS Agerholm.
Be afraid. Be very afraid. The destroyer USS Agerholm fires an atomic rocket in 1962.

I live in Beaumont, Texas. It is certainly a blip compared to Los Angeles, although, just a few miles from where I live is the nation’s fourth largest port in tonnage. The Port of Beaumont sits on the Neches River, at the northwestern leg of the Sabine-Neches Waterway. The 79-mile-long ship channel serves one of the largest petrochemical producing areas in the U.S. The port is also a “military outload” port. I saw weird bubble-wrapped helicopters being loaded during the prelude to the Second Iraq War, not to mention a plethora of tanks, fighting vehicles and assorted items most of which were covered in desert camo.

The waterway juts northward to the Port of Orange on the Sabine River. Just south of the confluence of both rivers is the Port of Port Arthur. That confluence is Sabine Lake, which is more of a bay than a lake. At the tip of the water way is Sabine Pass, where a small port sits. Also, two liquefied natural gas or LNG terminals are being built on either side of the lake. One is at Sabine Pass, the other near Cameron, Louisiana.

So, were one to be terrified of what might happen, this could be the place for you. The ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles, fifth and ninth in tonnage respectfully, also makes for a scary place. There are refineries in that area as well and lots of varied military activity to the north and south of Los Angeles. This brings me to the big Pacific scare.

Now maybe people were really terrified. I don’t know. I bet some hipster sitting in his back yard looking over the ocean and tripping his ass off on acid had a real rush. But these type of things happen quite often off the Southern California coast. Take San Clemente Island, not to be confused on San Clemente, the city between San Diego and L.A. and the place where Tricky Dick Nixon used to live.

San Clemente Island sits to the southwest of Santa Catalina Island. The former is officially uninhabited. That is a good thing because the island has been, for years, a Navy missile and shipboard gunfire range. It is probably more of the former these days as Navy ships are more missile oriented these days. The ship I served a year on in the Navy was a World War II-era gun destroyer although it could fire “rocket assisted projectiles.” The armament system was called an ASROC, for Anti submarine rocket. The Agerholm, the ship on which I served, fired the first and I guess only, nuclear-tipped ASROC

The rocket test, called “Swordfish,” was part of a series of nuclear tests in the early 1960s, most of the tests were air drops from B-52s and were in the South Pacific Ocean. Swordfish took place about 400 nautical miles — about 460 miles — west of San Diego. According to information on the test, the 20 kilo-ton device was fired about 1 p.m. local time on May 11, 1962, from the Agerholm. The nuke’s so-called “yield,” the energy unleashed in the bomb, was approximately that of the “Fat Man” bomb detonated over Nagasaki. A raft some 4,300 yards — some 2.5 miles — away was the target for the ASROC.

 “The rocket missed its sub-surface zero point by 20 yards and exploded 40 seconds later at a depth of 650 feet in water that was 17,140 feet deep,” according to nuclearweaponarchive.org.

 “The spray dome from the detonation was 3000 feet across, and rose to 2100 feet in 16 seconds. The detonation left a huge circle of foam-covered radioactive water. Within two days it had broken up into small patches and spread out for 5 to 8 miles.”

Operation Dominic took place about 15 years before I reported aboard the Agerholm. Was nuclear fallout still on the ship when I boarded her in the former Todd Shipyard facility in Long Beach, Calif? I don’t know.

Now the majority of stories on the test firings from the ballistic submarine USS Kentucky speculate whether the Navy was trying to send some message. I think the answer is “yes.” The very being of the U.S. Navy sends a message, as in the photo above being an extreme example. Some believe the people should be forewarned of such tests. The Navy says “Sorry, we can’t tell you when this missile will launch, top secret.” I would bet if something like the picture above appeared off the coast of L.A., people really would freak-out. And they’d have every right to be scared.

I conclude with this tip: Assume the Navy will test fire a missile in the water — somewhere!

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In for a good hand-spanking. Maybe even some yellow snow.

A 14-year-old boy was written a ticket for shining a laser at a helicopter on Sunday evening near a Beaumont, Texas, airport. Yours truly resides in Beaumont.

Beaumont police received a complaint from the chopper pilot who said that a green laser light was aimed at his aircraft. The incident happened around 8 p.m. as the craft approached the Beaumont Municipal Airport. The pilot lit his landing lights to illuminate the area and he reported seeing two individuals on the ground in front of a residence, police said.

The pilot landed at the airport and drove by the residence where he saw the laser light. The home was slightly more than a mile away. Police met with the pilot shortly afterward at a nearby supermarket.

Officers then dropped by to the residence and talked with the boy’s parents. The adults confirmed their son had a green laser pointer and called him outside to speak with the police. The boy confessed to shining the laser at the aircraft.

” … and did not realize how dangerous shining a laser at aircraft could be for pilots,” the police report added.

"I can't see, temporarily," but it's not the dog-doo snow cone that's blinding me. Photo: FBI
“I can’t see, temporarily,” but it’s not the husky wee wee that’s blinding me. Photo: FBI. Reference: “Nanook Rubs It” by Frank Zappa

Well gee whiz! I suppose the teen never watches television or reads internet stories about airline pilots being temporarily blinded by laser light.

The police press release said the laser was confiscated and the teen was written a “citation for pointing a laser at an aircraft.”

I looked up the specific Texas Penal Code that addresses such an offense. I was quite surprised that the offense is only a Class C misdemeanor. That is the same offense level as a parking ticket. The maximum fine for a Class C is $500 with no jail. Who knew?

The offense intensifies to a Class A misdemeanor if ” … the intensity of the light impairs the operator’s ability to control the aircraft … “ The maximum punishment for an ordinary Class A misdemeanor is a $4,000 fine.  A jail term of one year, or both the maximum fine and maximum jail term, may be imposed upon a guilty verdict, according to Chapter 12.21 of the Texas Penal Code.

Federal laws can be more severe with fines and sentences of up to five years in prison if convicted.

It just seems that getting a slap on the wrist for something so potentially harmful is so … nothing. Maybe the citation is all police can do legally or maybe it’s the side of town regulating the charge. I will be interested to hear if someone is brought up on similar charges and what they receive if found guilty. I mean, I don’t wish something like that on anyone. I’m just saying.

Remember kiddos: Don’t point your laser pointer at ANY aircraft. And whatever you do, don’t eat that yellow snow!