Was there any doubt in your mind?

Did ya ever wonder why type of person is hired to work in fast food restaurants?

Bored.

Unmotivated.

Wishing they were somewhere else.

Little Nazi's.

Wanting only to screw around.

Functions well when able to play grab ass.

Talks more than works.

Can hardly wait for the next break.

That's what I encounter in the few times each month that I patronize a fast food place.

Take for example my last visit several months ago to KFC. Shift leader was all tweaked out over orders out of sequence and at least one customer ending up with another customer's order. Yelling. Whacked out. All done at the cashier's station in front of customers.

Last straw was during my conversation to another customer in line with me. The Shift Leader holds her hand open palmed in my direction as a cue for me to stop talking so she could speak the guy next to me. She did that and then continued to be all tweaked, loud and out of sorts.

Someone said Shift Leader was a removering meth addict. That explains a lot. The chick now needs workshops in anger and task management. But maybe with all that meth she's missing a chip now and there's no repairing her hard drive.

Frankly, I think she got the job because KFC was hiring all shits.

I complained in writing to KFC. Three weeks later I received an apology from the KFC branch manager who wrote that the Shift Leader was stressed that day and is a valued employee . . . along with a coupon for a free drink on my next visit. . . How uterly generous . . . .

Who's zooming who?

HOW TO WIN FRIENDS AND IMPRESS PEOPLE

Next time you're out on the town or at a party
and down a shot of Jack or whatever, DO THIS!

You'll make new friends and impress the others.

Ya think?

Dock Chick

I took this Wednesday morning while readying the good ship for a day sail on the lake. Wifey, being the good helper that she is knows that at this stage of boat prep I'm better left alone on board to do my thing. This is when Wifey becomes Dock Chick.

Lounge chair. Good book. Sunny day. Here she is doing what Dock Chicks do best. Dock.

I'm just waiting for the tie her up deal that goes with being a Dock Chicks. Every Dock Chick just loves to be tied up. At least that's what I keep telling Wifey.

Ya think?

Picture This

Yesterday: Wind on the lake had died down. After pulling the sails down I start the outboard and slowly motor towards the marina.

I switch on the MP3 player that's connected to the four speaker sound system on the boat (two speakers in the cabin, two in the cockpit). It's cranked up. Way loud.

This version of Eyes Without a Face starts playing. Bob puts on his air guitar and hangs off the bow of the boat.

Fishermen look back at us with a WTF expression. Bob smiles back and sports a Billy Idol rocker look that's seen on this video.

End to a perfect day.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Sailing on the Lake I Go

Leaving early this morning for at least a partial day of sailing. It depends on how much wind and how hot it gets on the lake. The winds are up this morning and will likely continue to rise until noon. Around 2 or 3 they'll come up again.

Right now I'm waiting for Wifey to return from her 5:30 a.m. morning sojourn to the Jazzercise studio. Then we'll head for the lake.

Wifey: Why don't you come with me to Jazzercise?

Me: Are there any men?

Wifey: No, there's never any men.

Me: Do I like have to dance around?

Wifey: Dancing around is what Jazzercise is all about.

Me: Sounds like Bob and Jazzercise won't work out. See you later.

Never Gave it a Thought

Even as a kid I never gave drinking lake water a thought. Water from a mountain stream was another thing. We all drank that but never lake water. Everyone knew that not only fish crapped in lake water but so did a lot of people that we knew.

Lakes today are filled with other things. Take vegetation. What used to be a body of water where you could see the bottom today all there is to see is cloudy water or water that has lots of plants growing on the bottom.

When we motor on Whiskeytown Lake I sometimes feel like I'm mowing the lawn. The prop on the outboard has lots of under water plants wrapped around it. I always thought the fish would take care of bottom dwelling vegetation. Maybe they're into eating steak and leaving the veggies for something else.

The park rangers are all uptight about fresh water mussels infiltrating the lake. I'm supposed to display a sign on the dash that states I've inspected the bottom of the boat before launch to make sure there are no mussels attached to it. Next thing you know the rangers will want everyone to check their own bottoms to make certain there's no creatures attached to it. Now there's a thought.

I just read that a snail has been introduced into California bays and inlets and originated in Asia. It bores into the shell of live oysters, sucks out the inside and goes its merry way. This is not good especially for those of us who love oysters on the half shell.

As for people we've got to be on the lookout for Swine Flu. They say it's going to be a terrible outbreak in the coming year and with it will come more than a few deaths.

When you sit back and think about global warming (you do believe in global warming, don't you?), the oysters, the fresh water mussels, swine flu . . . the list could go on and on. Do you think someone or something or a higher power is trying to tell us something?

And to think it all started with fish and kids crapping in lake water.

Built with Legos

You're looking at a display at our local nature park and museum. Everything here was built by a guy with a vision . . . a vision that he could sculpt with Legos.

And he did. Each sculpture is made completely with Legos.

Talk about a guy with too much time on his hands.

Think house paint is expensive?

If you think a gallon of house paint is expensive try this: One gallon of Interlux Micron CSC bottom paint: $199. That's just for the paint.

Before we put her in the water it took two gallons of Micron to thoroughly cover the bottom of Sparkle Plenty. You didn't think painting your bottom was that expensive, did you? Well, it is.

I've put boats in the water for extended periods of time without going through the process of painting its bottom. Come pull out time removing the accumulated grunge took lots and lots of chemicals and elbow grease to remove it. That was one of the times where I wished that I had followed someones advice to do a little preventative maintenance.

It's not like it takes 400 bucks a year every year for this type of paint job. It's more like every 3 or 4 years.

Paying a couple hundred bucks for a gallon of bottom paint makes me wonder what it is that makes it so expensive. It's just paint. Stinks like hell. A respirator is required when the paint is applied. It's that stinky. It's also that toxic. Maybe that's why bottom paint is so expensive: Toxicity doesn't come cheap.

Ya think?

Park Service Logic

We moor our boat at a lake that is controlled by the National Parks Service. On their books is a regulation some bright person behind a desk in Washington . . . and who never ever owned a water craft - - - authored which prohibits the presence or use of porta-potties or toilets in boats with holding tanks and their use on private craft on the lake.

The thinking is that those boating on the lake are to use floating Parks Service porta-potties on the lake. Yup, there's about three portable toilets on rafts anchored in various locations. No using what's on board your boat or you'll be ticketed just for having that available.

There's more than a couple of things wrong with that kind of thinking.

Take for example sailors. When I feel the need I'm expected to drop the sails (no small task), motor over to a floating toilet and do my thing. How many sailors are actually going to do that? And what if you get a case of the trots? Then what? There's not going to be time to haul the sails down and motor to the nearest toilet. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go!

I could start wearing Depends while sailing. Shirt off. Shorts off. Just me skippering the boat in my Depends. Now there's a commercial in the making for ya. I'd be the talk of the lake.

There's probably a Forest Service ticket in that for adults wearing diapers: Impersonating a diapered child or impersonating an incontinent old fart. Take your pick. That's probably a 250 buck ticket.

Then there's the floating patio or pontoon boats on the lake which have a porta-potty or a toilet with a holding tank. The latter often have a feature that allows discharge of the holding tank into the lake. There are no facilities on the lake for pumping holding tanks. Guess what happens when the tank on one of these boats is filled.

Logically speaking, allowing the use of on board toilets/porta-potties would make for a healthier lake. Installing a pump out facility on the lake for onboard toilets would also make for a healthier lake.

I spoke with the superintendent of the Park and its lake this last week. The rules are the rules. He doesn't make them. Even though the rules have never been enforced they're going to begin enforcing them soon. Enforcement is not the issue. The issue is doing what every other lake does and provide facilities for dumping or pumping water craft sewage.

So here's what's on board Sparkle Plenty. Sinks and a porta-potty which are seen here. Sinks drain overboard through a network of piping.

Guess what? The waste from whatever comes from the sinks is allowed to flow overboard and is not regulated. However small that amount is could also be a poor choice to put in the lake. Soap that's not biodegradable for one.

I could pee in the sink and that would be okay or at least I'd get away with it. But heaven forbid that I have a porta-potty on board.

When enforcement begins I can hardly wait for the fracas. There's a lot of high powered people with boats on the lake. Lots of lawyers, too. A couple of judges.

Why is it that governmental thinking is often so illogical? What would Obama say about this whole deal. If he were sailing with me there would be beer, chicken wings and prune salad. No doubt our President would feel the need. . . and I'd say, I'm not supposed to use the porta-potty that's on board.

Guess what Obama would say in return?

Obama: YES WE CAN!

Me: Oh no you can't! Slap on one of these Depends, Obama and grin and bear it!

I'm off to buy a case of Depends. Land ho!

Ain't no thang

I'm taking the posture that when something goes wrong it's either "Ain't no thang!", or "So what?"

I've ranted and raved here about all of the wheels there are to grease. Along with those wheels are repairs, upkeep, insurance, and other expenses either to the wallet or to the worry system.

Today:

Zoey, shown here after her weekly bath, is 12 years old or 84 dog years old. She's not well. Without going into details a trip to the Vet this morning ran 250 bucks. X-rays. Zoey has arthritis and two disks in her back that protrude from her spine. Three medications. An old injury most definitely incurred before we rescued her from a puppy mill. I'll continue to pour money into keeping Zoey healthy. She's one of the family. You do things like that for loved ones.

Okay, most but all loved ones. "Bob? Once you were loved. We're going to have to put you down now. It's just too expensive to keep you alive."

Truck has issues: $890. I screwed up and caused this expense.

Fifth wheel trailer repair to air conditioning and holding tanks: $190.

Busted or no functional lawn sprinklers currently under repair: A hundred bucks.

Today I'm told that one of our renters busted the back gate for the second time in 6 months (claims it was lawnmower man AGAIN!): Another hundred bucks.

Computer went south last week: $200 for yet another repair.

Wifey is pregnant. It's twins. Priceless. She'll be in the Guiness Book of Records.

Happy endings at the massage parlor were raised from $50 to $300 a session (on both counts - don't believe everything you read here).

Do I care? Hell no!

Ain't no thang.

So what?

Pour it on. None of this crap is going to get under my skin any more. Life is short. Bring on more wheels for Bob to grease.

Bob's new tune: Don't Worry. Be Happy.

Back in business

I think that I've resolved the matter of being able to post photos to the blog. Looks like we're make in business. Put things like this under the heading of Things That Keep Bob Busy, will you? There always seems to be a bunch.

Here's where two of our three trailers are stored: The black Chevy pickup truck bed that's used to haul dirt, rocks or what have you and the trailer that hauls the sailboat. The fifth wheel is stored in the RV parking space provided alongside the house.

The area for storage is covered which helps to prevent sun damage to both trailers. Three to four months of 100 plus Cowtown sun will eat up most surfaces. It's open air which is shared by other owners who park alongside of our space.

When I rented the space I was told there was 12' clearance in and under the roof. Well, that's kind of correct. What's not in the computation are the roof beams which you see here. Their presence creates less than 12' clearance.

Heck, that doesn't matter as I've found that the mast cradled on the boat requires over 12' of clearance. It's closer to just over 13 feet. Check out any freeway overpass. Most clearance under an overpass is just over 14' in height. We barely scoot under them. Just think of not clearing an overpass.....whooo hoo! What a treat that would be!

So much for the plan to park the sailboat here during the winter. I'm on the waiting list to rent a 40' long enclosed storage area with a 14' overhead door. It would be perfect parking for the sailboat and a place for cleaning and repairs that's out of the weather. If that doesn't happen the boat will remain in the water for however long that it takes to find storage with a 14' clearance.

Add this to the list of Things That Keep Bob Busy, will you?

Today

Blogger and Picasa are not posting pictures that I attach to my posts. Yesterday's entry had a series of butterfly shots that are not here this morning. Today I spent a lot of time on another post only to find that the photos won't attach.

After 1,125 posts here I wonder if I shouldn't change blog hosts. Blogger often doesn't always work out for me.

I'm good

On the first day of school I could not resist leaving a voicemail message for a teacher friend:

"Hi Joanie, this is Bob. I don't quite know how to put this so I'll just come out and say it. Wifey and I are getting ready for a day's worth of sailing on the lake. Yes, it's the first day of school. You're working and we're not! So think of us eating the lunch we've made especially for sailing today . . . roast beef sandwiches on sourdough rolls, potato salad, crackers spread with pate`, chocolate cake and of course beer, Sangria and Margaritas. Poor you. Slaving with all of those little kids and there we'll be . . . relaxing. Laughing. And not thinking anything related to working. Enjoy the first day. And just think, this could be you one day soon. Bye!"

Don't ya just love rubbing it in?

And it was a good day sailing. Moderate winds coming from just the right direction made for straight sailing to the end of the lake. Coming back the wind crapped out. I dropped the sails and we motored back to the marina just in time for the temp to hit 100. In the heat we sweated like little pigs mooring the boat and closing it up for another day's sailing.

During the process I slipped on a wet surface and fell butt down on the deck. Wifey asked if I was okay to which I replied with a smile, "I'm good." After a great day of sailing why wouldn't I be good and smiling? It would have been hard to spoil Bob's mood.

Last Saturday we visited the local nature park. For a few months of every year there's a butterfly exhibit which is due to close soon. Couldn't resist taking a few pictures.

Busy day. Taking the girls to the groomer at 7 this morning. Grocery shopping after that. Then I'll pick up the trailer at the RV repair shop and bring it home, wash it, cover it and back it into the side RV parking area. By then the girls will be ready to come home so I'll drive back to the groomers to pick them up. After dinner we'll drive out to the marina, wash and wax the boat and watch the moon rise.

Whatta day I'm in for.

The Dream

The night before the commencement of each school year thousands of teachers experience "the dream". It's a dream that's not shared by those in any other profession.

Today is the first day of school for a lot of California children, teachers and para-professionals. There was a lot of dreaming last night. It was all about "the dream".

There are two common threads in "the dream":

You've overslept, still in bed and the phone rings. It's the principal. Your classroom is filled with kids and you're not there. There are several variations on this dream.

Or, you've forgotten to put on clothes and appear before your class in various stages of nakedness.

Or, you're working with a tough group of kids and you're not liking it.

I'm sure there are other dreams about the first day of school that teachers have. What's written here are common ones that have been shared over the years.

I taught for only a short period of time before working in administration. Even though I changed roles the dream still visited me the night before the first day of school. And interestingly, I had "the dream" again last night even though it's been a year since the last assignment. Wasn't naked in front of kids. Didn't oversleep. But "the dream" was about my working with a tough group of kids. It wasn't fun.

I'm looking forward to dreaming about something different tonight....anything but school and kids. Please!

Wifey and I are readying to go sailing first thing this morning. I can't think of anything more fitting on the first day of school than being on a boat with its sails full of wind, heeled way over, blasting down the lake with the rails touching the water. And there will be Bob: sandwich or beer or maybe Wifey in one hand, wheel in the other.

Playing hooky today is going to be very enjoyable.

Six Minutes to a Clean Bathroom

It was my turn to clean the guest bathroom today. Not wanting to spend a lot of Sunday time on that chore I gave myself 6 minutes to do the deed. I did dooed it. I did. I did!

Here's what Bob hopped, bopped and slopped to for six minutes . . . 6 minutes to a clean bathroom. You too can hop. You can bop. And yeah, slop it baby.

Ever just get tired of "it"?

Whatever "it" is I'm tired of it. I'd rather be a frog much like the one I captured on the back deck the other evening. "It" for this frog may be next meal but "it" is really about the fear of being eaten by a bird that happens to wander into its habitat.

When you come right down to it, there's a lot of "its" in our life that interferes with happiness. Because of that I'm so tired of having to put up with "it". Tired.

Like this computer for example. I'm tired of "it" fucking up. The most recent incident of many came Thursday. Nothing worked. Nothing.

Friday the tech came out. Three hours later "it" thing was up and running. Only thing several programs are missing like the program I use to download photos from the digital camera. Until I remedy that there will be no new photos to share.

Then there's all of the photos on the hard drive are in duplicate files which means precious memory is being used. Now I have to delete the duplicates . . . and there's a lot of them. That means a lot of time spent removing them when I could be out doing something else. "It" is supposed to make life easier. It is not.

Windows was reinstalled on the computer meaning that some things were lost . . . like all of the bookmarks for websites are gone which now have to be found and bookmarked again.

I'm tired of IT! And I don't want to hear that I should buy a Mac. Never happen. Been there. Owned a Mac and it was far worse than the PC I own.

And another "it" . . . stupid people. Like the ones who left their dogs in their car while they toured the local nature park. 100 degrees. Windows rolled up. Dogs yelping. You bet your sweet ass we reported these stupid people and the dogs were "rescued" moments later. In Cowtown dogs in parked cars, windows up in 100 degree heat is not unusual. It's also not unusual for people like us to see that the dogs are taken care of. Stupid people. These are the same people who run red lights and don't pay taxes like the rest of us. I hate them.

"It" is all this talk in Washington about health care for the people who don't have health care. "It" is sounding like a free ride for these people. How about the rest of us who pay dearly for health care. Take for example Bob and Wifey who fork out 1,300 bucks a month for health care. For that amount a new Italian luxury car could be parked in the driveway. Or, a villa in Italy would have our name on it. How much is enough? . . . I ask myself, when it comes to the price of health care. How much? I'm tired of "it". Real tired.

Chances are good we'll be taxed so that the people without health care can have health care. If I'm going to be taxed then I want what I pay into health care considered as being a deduction. Without a deduction paying for my health care and then being taxed for someone elses is salt int the wound . . . insult to injury....another "it" that should never see the light of day.

So what about us, Obama and clan? The ones who pay up the waazoo for health care.... This "it" of ours needs fixing. Don't forget us.

I have come to understand the phrase, "Fuck it!" because I have also come to know that "it" is the root of all of our problems. If we could just get rid of the "it" in life all of us would be much happier.

So, fuck it!

Ya think?

I'm going out, forgetting "it" and plan to focus on being ridiculously happy.

See, I'm smiling.

Kind of . . .in a ridiculously sort of way.

One more time.

One of Bob's Hero"s Dead at 94

We should all be so lucky. Living well and walking around, doing your thing until age 94? Les Paul was a lucky man in so many ways. We all have to go some time and Les died this morning at a ripe old age surrounded by his family.

I first heard Les Paul's music at age 11 - this song played here, How High The Moon. It was in the kitchen in Uncle Al and Aunt June's home in Fresno. One hot day in July as we finished lunch this played on the AM radio.

I thought to myself - I like that music. One day I'll have a big car, make lots of money and play this song - driving down the highway, wheel in one hand, babe in the other. Little did I know it would come true.....along the California coastline, Wifey and me . . . top down on the convertible, How High The Moon on the stereo, wheel in one hand . . . Wifey in the other. Who would have thunked it? Well, I did at age 11 . At that point in my life I knew in my heart that one day that vision would come to pass.

Les Paul is known for his contributions to the world of sound and music as quoted here:

"Paul helped bring about the rise of rock 'n' roll with multitrack recording, which enables artists to record different instruments at different times, sing harmony with themselves, and then carefully balance the tracks in the finished recording."

Les played weekly at a small nightclub in NYC until taking ill earlier last month. Whatta guy. What a life.

You have to ask yourself, How High the Moon?

THINK ABOUT IT

These are the results of a poll taken this week by an on-line local newspaper. Think about it. What or who would you get cloned? Or would you?

Interestingly, only 6% would clone their spouse. Now that speaks volumes about marriage, doesn't it? The poll also validates who man's best friend is.

If you could, what would you get cloned?

Dog		41%
Cat		8%
Other pet		0%
Self		21%
Spouse		6%
Other		24%

Not just for sailing

Here's Wifey one evening last week lounging on the boat. It was the perfect evening to pack up dinner, drive to where Sparkle Plenty is berthed, kick back, enjoy the scenery and eat. However, being that it was one of those days for Wifey, she chose to lie back and not kick back as seen here. ZZZZZZzzzz.

Owning a sailboat doesn't always mean that you're on the water and sailing. You can be on the water, not sailing and enjoy the Zen of just being.











That evening I spotted a Heron flying from tree to tree in search of the evening meal.















Here's Grace as photographed by daughter Dawn enjoying sailing. She hates wearing a floatation device but nonetheless managed to squeeze out a smile here. Whether to wear or not wear a life jacket is non negotiable on any craft Bob skippers.















It's Wednesday. Most teachers in our area are attending orientation meetings today and readying their classrooms for the first day of school on Monday. I can't believe that summer vacation for our kids is drawing to an end.

While losing Gracie to school is somewhat regretful I do look forward to shopping at Costco, Trader Joe's and other retailers without having to wade through kids who block the aisles, who whine, cry, throw tantrums and behave in a way that disturbs my Zen, my inner Chee when I'm out and about.

And with the opening of school there will be very few boats on the lake to contend with. The boat, Bob and nature. No one and nothing else.

Ahh, the peace. The quiet. It's going to be soooo nice.

Senior Pom

Zoey is our senior Pom. She's 12 years 3 months old. Like an older person Zoey can be cranky. In order to eat she demands that she's hand fed. Several months ago Zoey started talking to herself making sounds like she's never made before. Fortunately Zoey has not become incontinent. She is somewhat hard of hearing and we think her vision is declining.

But Zoey remains a love . . . craves contact and being cuddled with. She's the hit of any walk we take. Since she's only 4 1/2 pounds everyone thinks she's a pup of a girl . . . a baby.

"What is she?" they coo. "Can we touch her?"

Me: She's a Mongolian miniature bear. If you touch her she'll bite your hand off.

Zoey hates being touched by strangers anyway.

Even though in the twilight of her life, Zoey is a love. Don't ya think?

Oh, and the last photo here....taken at the lake yesterday. Forest fires to the west were clouding the lake with smoke. It wasn't a day to be sailing. Here's hoping the fires don't get any larger.

Look Ma! No Hands!

Sunday morning and early afternoon were spent on the lake. I've got the red face to prove it. Just call me Fire Face. Now if I can only get those chicken legs of mine to brown up everything on Bob's bod will match.

Winds exceeding 30 miles and hour dictated that we furl the jib and sail only with the main. That adjustment made for more comfortable sailing.









Daughter Dawn went sailing, too. Just like back in the day with our other sailboats, Dawn worked the main.

Later in the day when the wind calmed we pulled out the jib and Dawn worked that, too.

Wifey busied herself with taking pictures, caring for Grace and supplying those on deck with water.


















Gracie was here usual self scrambling all over the boat, pouring more water over the side than she was drinking.









Then there's her monkey side as shown here with Grace upside down hanging on the forward hatch.. A six year old has got to do what a six year old does. Our girl has that down pat.

When we finished sailing and had tied the boat up, the ladies departed per my request (it was nearing 105 on the dock - - only one person needed to sweat out what needed to be done not all four of us) leaving me to finish securing Sparkle Plenty for the night.

Down the dock I met a man who had spent the previous night on his sailboat and was planning to do that again Sunday night. Nice guy (name of Bob - - - I never met a Bob I didn't like) but not one to take care of his boat. It was a mess. The tiller was broken as was its attachment to the boat. Missing was the hardware attaching the mainsail to the traveler. The cabin hatch was missing and rainwater was allowed to fill the interior of the boat all winter. The marina staff had to bail it out several times to keep it from sinking. Bird poop covered the deck.

Bob co-owns with his family a deli/beer bar down the highway. I've eaten there many times but never met Bob as he was always in the back putting orders together.

As we talked Bob confided that his wife left him earlier in the month for parts unknown. Spending time on the boat was his way to contemplate "what's next" in his life.

After I buttoned up our boat I drove home and returned to the dock with a marine parts catalog so Bob could order parts for his boat. As I walked back down the dock to the truck Bob yelled, "I'll buy you lunch!" as thanks for the catalog. I yelled back, "Better yet, fix your boat and let's go sailing."

And I added, "You really need to rename your boat from 'On the Edge' to African Queen. She's looking like that kind of craft, Bob."

Bob mumbled back as I approached the gate on shore. . . "Hmm African Queen. . . African Queen?"

I think I've made a friend.

South Korean Immersion

When he visits Max always brings Gracie something from Korea. This time his gift to Grace was South Korean traditional dress- Hanbok. Up until the 1960's the Hanbok was worn regularly in Korea.

Now that she has a Hanbok Grace is more than ready to make the trip over the Pacific ocean and live the good life in Korea. Grace has already made plans to wear the dress alone (seen here with a vest) to the Father/Daughter school dance in October. This girl always thinks ahead.

Yesterday Max flew from Cowtown to visit friends in San Diego. After several days there he'll travel back to the Bay Area to party with friends for a few days then it's back to Korea. Max is thinking he'll be back in the Spring for another visit. That would be just in time to catch the launch of Sparkle Plenty fresh from her winter haul out and ready for another season in the lake.

The office computer is still not working correctly. Without going into details it's been one hassle after another which fortunately has been correctable. It is time to replace the CPU. Windows 7 which will replace the Vista operating system won't be available until October 22nd. We'll limp on until then.

Jesus said, "Go sailing!"

I'm not a particularly religious man . . . probably more on the spiritual side than anything else. But once in a while the Lord talks to me. He does. I've heard him. It goes like this:

Bob, don't do this.

Bob, you'd better not do that.

Good, Bob . . . that's nice for a change.

So when the Lord came to me and said, "Go sailing!" that's exactly what Bob did. Heave ho! And away we go!

When I get messages like that I get very religious. I even bought the hat that you see here on my office desk. When anyone asks where I'm going it will be a simple answer - I'll point to the hat and say, "Don't bother me. The Lord said I have to go sailing and I've got to get on the lake ASAP or there's gonna be hell to pay!"

So I had this conversation with Wifey.

Me: Wifey, the Lord said that I have to go sailing. I heard him. He said that. It even says that on my hat. See?

Wifey: Having another 60's flashback, Bob?