Finally Made That Dump Run

In the rain, of course. This is October and this is also WaRshington so it just had to be raining. I actually got soaked dropping off 3 bags of plastics that we’ve been saving for a rainy day. So it worked out then. Tomorrow it’s supposed to be wetter and windier and generally crappy Wx, so I’m going to drop off glass. Or Not.


Not much else going on. Moving computers around and generally getting things straightened up. Didn’t want to add another computer to the power bill, so thought I’d make the computer I have set up just for scanning documents (wasn’t hooked to the network at all) to also be the print server (which means hooking it up to the network). That’s turning into a pain in the ass. Windows XP (which I like) normally works great; however, the internet connection is so slow right now that it was going to take an hour to download a 738kb file. Too slow. So I downloaded them on my computer and usb drived them over. And they didn’t work. Of Course.

Exercise. We Must All Exercise!

So I’m going to get to spend too much time on this computer after all. Maybe I ought to just go ahead and install Windows 7 on the thing. Or Linux Mint. But will Linux Mint support my old asses scanner? Hmmm.


Talked with my friend down Vista, CA way on 14.342 usb. He came in real good but was “bragging” about using 500 watts. I was doing S7 on 50 watts. Somewhere it says we aren’t supposed to use more power than we really need for the contact. Not that I’m getting on my friends case; I’m just wondering how I do well on  50 what takes him 500. Antenna? ESP?

Had several more people start to “follow” my Redneck Mormon blog over the past couple of days. Don’t know why they’d want to follow an old guy on a rant to save America, but glad they do. Now if I could just get everyone to support my bid for Dictator!

The MCARC 10-meter Chat Net went well. Lots of QRM(? Noise) though.

I Should Make A Dump Run.

Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport lounge in Bozeman , Montana , awaiting their flights. One is an American Indian, passing thru from Lame Deer. Another is a cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show. And the third is a fundamentalist Arab student from the Middle East, newly arrived at Montana State University .

Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull. The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.

The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes. Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly speaks. “At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few.”

The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, “Once my people were few,” he sneers, “and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?”

The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth, and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, “That’s ’cause we ain’t played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it’s a-comin'”.