Monday, November 13, 2006


We're starting to travel a lot. Travels carries with it certain risks . . flat tires, credit card max-out, road maps that are wrong (and I'm always right, damn it! and I'm not stopping to ask for directions!!), car sick dogs, deer that come out of no where, and horrible road food.

Those aren't risks. They're part of the joys of traveling: These things will always happen regardless if you're Doctor Phil, Martha Stewart, or OJ who has no gloves.

There are other risks associated with traveling. Stranger danger. People who would take your life, your wallet, your dog, truck and wife in a heartbeat without thinking twice. They're out there. Because I'm out there I always look over my shoulder. It's a good thing to be wary.

I travel with several handguns and sometimes a rifle. One of the handguns and the rifle are for "plinking". Target shooting is fun. In the military a Sharp Shooter medal was pinned on my chest three times - and not for always hitting the urinal. I'm not a good shot, I'm a damned great shot.

The second handgun is just there for "just in case". It's a nice sidearm, a .380 semi-auto coming under the heading of big things sometimes come in small packages.

While the .380 is relatively small, during our travels Candace is delighted with an opportunity to off handedly say, "Is that a gun you're carrying or are you just glad to see me?" Mae West's famous line still plays even in the year 2006.

Being reckless, hotheaded, impulsive, stupid, Bush-headed, out of control -does not go with carrying a handgun. One of the two have to stay home. Attitude and handguns do not travel together in harmony.

That said, once in a while it would be fun to pull out that long barreled 357 mag and holler at some yea-hoo who has really peed me off, "Are you feeling lucky, punk?" just to catch the deer in the headlights, holy shit look on his face. I know better. It ain't worth it. No way. Here's why.

First lesson in carrying a weapon for self defense: Do not, do not draw your weapon unless you fully intend to fire it. Do not.

If you draw your weapon in any situation one guess as to where your next stop will be. . . If you said jail you're right. Regardless of the circumstance, you're busted. No questions asked, you're wrong, everyone else is right.

Pull the trigger a Monopoly Go Straight to Jail/Do Not Pass Go card is pasted on your forehead. Regardless of the circumstance, firing a rife or handgun at anyone even if you don't hit them will land you in a 4x6 concrete room.

What's a happy compromise to problems that come up? I've found it.

The movie, Cool Hand Luke? We've all seen it. Remember Paul Newman strumming a banjo and singing Plastic Jesus when his mother died? It helped Paul Newman, all of his problems went away (but then he created more on his own), a Plastic Jesus can help Old Bob.

Instead of pulling out that 357 magnum attitude when the going gets tough, I'll wave my Plastic Jesus, sing the song. Whatever or whoever is bothering me will go away, just like it happened to Paul Newman. Now there's real fire power.

Headlines: "Old Bob Goes Whack-O on Main Street. Following a traffic accident where Mr Bob was rear ended, he exited his car, got on the roof of the vehicle who hit his car and started waving something plastic in the air all the while singing something about a Plastic Jesus. After being Maced and restrained by four meter maids Old Bob was taken to the mental ward for observation."

Hopefully it wouldn't go like that, but it would be fun to whack out like that now and then . . . if I didn't get put in the nut house.

Rest of the today? I've ordered my Action Figure on E-Bay. Isn't it cool? I'm also memorizing the song. I can use all of the protection I can while we're traveling.

As Jesus once said, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do". This is and I am probably what and who Jesus was talking about.


I don't care if it rains of freezes'

Long as I got my Plastic Jesus

Riding on the dashboard of my car.

Through my trials and tribulations

And my travels through the nations

With my Plastic Jesus I'll go far.

Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,

Riding on the dashboard of my car

I'm afraid He'll have to go.

His magnets ruin my radio

And if I have a wreck He'll leave a scar.

Riding down a thoroughfare

With His nose up in the air,

A wreck may be ahead, but He don't mind.

Trouble coming He don't see,

He just keeps His eye on me

And any other thing that lies behind.

Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,

Riding on the dashboard of my car ...

Though the sunshine on His back

Make Him peel, chip and crack,

A little patching keeps Him up to par.

When I'm in a traffic jam

He don't care if I say "damn"

I can let all my curses roll

Plastic Jesus doesn't hear'

Cause he has a plastic ear

The man who invented plastic saved my soul.

Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,

Riding on the dashboard of my car ...

Once His robe was snowy white,

Now it isn't quite so bright -

Stained by the smoke of my cigar.

If I weave around at night,

And policemen think I'm tight,

They never find my bottle - though they ask.

Plastic Jesus shelters me,

For His head comes off, you see

He's hollow, and I use Him for a flask.

Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,

Riding on the dashboard of my car ...

Ride with me and have a dram

Of the blood of the Lamb -

Plastic Jesus is a holy bar.

Posted by Picasa

No comments:

Blog Archive

About Me

My photo
Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States