Where there's smoke there's a mean skipper and a log truck

A few quick observations before I head for an overnighter in Houston later today.

Geez lady, chill out! Oh, sorry, that’s chill out ma’am.

The U.S. Navy has relieved of command undoubtedly its worst captain of the year and it is a woman skipper. Or is that a skipper woman? Just skip it. Though I wonder if she ever heard of Prozac?

Where there’s smoke: Part 1

I’ve been listening to Colin Cowherd on ESPN Radio all morning while driving out in the woods on business. The talk today is all Ben Roethlisberger. The two-time Super Bowl-winning Steelers quarterback once again finds himself in scalding hot water with Georgia police looking into allegations he sexually assaulted a 20-year-old college co-ed. This isn’t the R-Man’s first rodeo when it comes to sexual misconduct complaints. You have to begin wondering, you know … ?

Where there’s smoke: Part 2

Driving down a Texas Farm-to-Market this morning I did a double take when I saw a sign advertising a carton of Marlboro’s. Only $49. Forty-nine dollars! Is that some kind of a joke? Since I quit smoking — 10 years ago this October — I haven’t really kept up with cigarette prices. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have to do so as part of my part-time job, but I record the price and go on. After all, I don’t buy cigarettes. Well, I bought some for my ex-girlfriend a couple of years ago. Note: Ex. Anyway, I know that taxes and all have made cigs go through the roof. But $49 a carton? You could buy a nice dinner with that amount. I never bought cartons. Well, when I was stationed on a ship and we could get cheaper smokes outside of the U.S.A. waters, to the tune of $2 a carton (this was 1977-78) but I hardly bought cartons during the rest of the years I smoked because they tended to make me smoke more, or so I rationalized. But gosh almighty folks. Holy smokes, or rather, unholy smokes. Quit before you go broke.

Deja vu log truck

I had a flashback this morning, back to mid-teens when I took drivers education. Actually, the very first day that I drove in drivers ed. My instructor and I drove a backwoods dirt road in East Texas to pick up another student. As I came around a curve, which had a huge culvert in that curve, a fully-loaded log truck came around from the other direction. It was my first test under fire, so to speak. I did fine. I just eased off the gas, moved a bit to the right and let the big honker pass. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I saw my instructor almost stomp his instructor’s brake through the floor board. That was followed by the teacher downing what looked to be a whole roll of Rolaids. The same happened this morning on a dirt road in East Texas. Well, my instructor has been dead for a number of years and I’ve been driving legally now almost 40 years and I take Prilosec for acid reflux. But this big honker of a log truck came around the curve and we all managed to coexist. I did later fear for my safety as some young woman came flying around a curve on that same dirt road going faster than she should have been going.

Time to skedaddle.