Surviving Women’s Imaginary Things

bird flu1A fellow (not male) blogger took a light-hearted approach to her surviving her husband’s “man flu“.  Us guys took it on our bearded chins from the ladies.

Lies.  All lies, I say!

Blasphemy that us men would whimper and keel over from the invasion of tiny buggers we can’t even see with a microscope.


Well, guys, its our turn.  We must defend our manliness.  Light-heartedly, of course.

The other night, I survived another commute home with against hordes of women drivers.

Barely survived.

Actually, it was a wonder I made it home unscathed and not get hit by the invisible things only women drivers can see.

They are gifted.

Us men can only see real things.


It is not easy “sharing” the road with women drivers when they have a different perceptions of “lanes”, “sharing”…and things only THEY can see.  Invisible things that apparently take up a LOT of space.  Thank goodness they can see them or I would run into these invisible things.

And women’s maligned beliefs they had to suffer the consequences of the man-flu…  Dastardly.  If anything, a man-flu lasts but a week.

Commuting with against females and their invisible things (only visible to them) is five days a week, 50 weeks a year for us hard-working men.

And I thought about the man-flu smack down when I came to this (long) stop light.

I got my trusty new smartphone and managed to snap a picture for evidence (unlike the man-flu blog which had NO evidence)… but of course, none of the HUGE  invisible things only WOMEN can see showed up in the picture.

Invisible Car

(Trust me.  The two vehicles in front of me have female drivers.)


Here is a schematic of the picture.  By some miracle, it is as UN-females see it:

A schematic of the photograph - which for some reason coincides with a man's view.
A schematic of the photograph – which for some reason coincides with a man’s view.

Notice where in the lane the female driver of the world’s tiniest car has decided to stop at this intersection.  There was obviously a couple of those invisible things that only WOMEN can see…on both sides of her.  If you can catch the Man Flu, you probably can’t see these invisible things.  She is so blessed, isn’t she?

(This was during rush hour.  At a long signal.  With other drivers behind us.  Forming two distinct lines…except for the two cars in front of me.)

Also trust me when I say the perspective of this photo hastily snapped with my smartphone is as deceiving as is the ladies’ perception of the effects of the man-flu.  There is LOTS of space on either side of car #1.


Which brings us to the second car immediately in front of me.  There is enough space between car #1 and this one that the front offensive line for the Ravens could do their stretching exercises.

Well, she also stopped her car skewed to the right of center…  You can see the reflection of my curbside headlamp on her LEFT tail lamp.  Imagine that.

…and she is not trying to make a right turn…  Here, at least.

She made the turn at the NEXT stop light beyond the freeway overpass.


Well, gents, a lady friend viewed the photograph at my humble request…  and with her special vision, she pointed out the invisible things to me.  How blessed are women!

THIS is what they can see with their magic vision!

THIS is what women drivers can see with their gift of paranormal eyesight!
THIS is what women drivers can see with their gift of paranormal eyesight!
OK, guys…  How many of you want this special vision that only women possess??!

Iwo Jima

My two smallest kids had the honor to see the memorial first hand in June 2010.

Life has been quite unpredictable for me for the past six weeks or so – as well as tiring.  I am quite behind in reading many of your fine blogs and that is on my priority to-do list.  But it is a hollow descriptive for me to say I am tired.

I am still alive.

Twenty-nine thousand are not.


The battle for Iwo Jima began 68 years ago on February 19, 1945.

Sixty-eight years ago.  Just yesterday for many.

Sixty-eight years ago, about 29,000 young men met horrible deaths on that demonic volcanic island – 22,000 Japanese soldiers and 7,000 Marines.  That unforgiving island still has not given up all of her dead to this day…  American and Japanese.

Japanese Prime Minister Kan in blue visited Iwo Jima (now renamed Iwo To) in 2010 to help find and exhume Japanese remains. He is the only Japanese Prime Minister to do so.

Indeed, the camaraderie amongst the survivors as well as those linked to the battle by relation or history is rightfully still strong.  It is vital to the preservation of bravery, courage and love of country.

Please click on image to see a brief yet touching video.


As mentioned in an earlier blog, the US Army also participated but not in a manner you would expect.

Per Dr. James McNaughton’s authoritative book, “Nisei Linguists”, Tech Sgt. 5g Terry Takeshi Doi “landed with the assault waves on 19 February 1945”.  Doi was a member of the US Army’s top secret Military Intelligence Service (MIS).  Doi would be awarded the Silver Star for his actions on Iwo Jima; he went into cave after cave armed only with a flashlight and knife to persuade Japanese soldiers to come out. I believe he is still alive.

Another MIS Nisei, Tech Sgt 3g James Yoshinobu, was fighting in his second world war; he had fought for the US in WW I (that’s ONE) and was 47 years of age while fighting on Iwo Jima.  He landed with the 4th Marine Division and was later awarded the Silver Star.

One MIS Nisei, Sgt. Mike Masato Deguchi, was seriously wounded by a land mine and died of his wounds shortly after war’s end.


Oddly, these Nisei may have never joined the task force sailing out of Pearl for the invasion of Iwo Jima.  The Nisei contingent was stopped at the security gate and were prohibited from proceeding because they “looked Japanese”.  Only with the accompaniment and support of a few Caucasian officers were they finally allowed to pass and board their transport ships.


Sixty-eight years later, let us today deeply and reverently remember these brave boys… whether they be American or Japanese…or both.  The iconic flag-raising would be tomorrow, February 23.

US Marines killed in action.

An unbelievably well written masterpiece on our country and her present condition… I hope you will read it…and you will if you love America.

The Chatter Blog

Our Once Great Country.

How many times have we thought this?  Heard this?  Or said it ourselves?   Out of frustration at the drug problems, the equality issues, the political ridiculousness.    Have we muttered it under our breaths because of the arguments over having guns or having gun controls.  Do we roll our eyes at the incomprehensible debt.  Are we dropping our heads in acceptance and shame at the decline of our country?

Our Once Great Country is still our country.  It’s greatness is not defined by it’s borders.  Or it’s politicians.  It’s military might.   It’s medical plan.

Our Once Great Country is defined by you.  And me.  Our children.  Their children.  My parents.  Their parents.

Our Once Great Country is only as great as those of us who stand on it’s soil and represent it’s Greatness.

And among our greatness is our greatest weakness.  Our greatest threat.  Our…

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“Let’s Play War”

rock flagWhen I was a youngster, the kids on our Oakford Drive in East Los Angeles would play after-school and certainly after homework was done.

Playing was comprised of two general categories:

1.  Sports – like baseball (complete with broken windows) or football (on our lawns spotted with metal sprinkler heads), or,

2.  War

Needless to say, I was never a member of the US forces when we played war.  (Oh, how I longed to be Sgt. Rock with his bulging biceps and Thompson machine gun blazing away…fighting for the red, white and blue.)

No, I was always the “J” or the “K”…  You know what I mean.

To be killed over and over again.

Like with elaborate booby traps: a wooden clothes pin armed with a cap and taped onto a piece of wood.  When I neared the booby trap (countless of times), Steve would pull the cord (countless of times) attached to a little string of metal from a spam can holding the clothes pin open..and “POP!”  I would crumble to the ground.  Very effective weapon if you ask me.

Or shot with John’s toy Winchester.  Wait a minute.  Winchesters were for cowboys and Indians.  I wonder how that got into our (imaginary) war.  Oh, well.  We were just playing while building our love for country.


After all, this was only a little more than 15 years after a most bitter war’s end.

Toyota wasn’t even in our vocabulary.

Sony became part of our vocabulary only because of something called a transistor radio.

“Tofu” wasn’t even a gleam in Webster’s eye.


But we were playing.  Imagining.

Today, I read this news story.

kid army suspend

The gist of it?  I hope you will read it and develop your own.


Is this a case of hysteria?  Of being afraid of being sued by spotlight-loving lawyers…  or CNN making you out to look a villain to support Obama’s political agenda?  Just my opinion, of course.

Of what HARM was it?  The toy grenade didn’t even have a paper cap…  Wait a minute.  Was there EVEN a toy grenade?  Or maybe it was a fuzzy tennis ball in place of his imaginary grenade?


Don’t punish the kid’s imagination.

Geezus H. Christ.

Maybe he just wants to be Sgt. Rock and save our country.

I Am Upset. No. PISSED.


Car dealers and banks.

They are very much similar.

A car dealer will “rip you off” every time you visit them…or they rip off the OEM when they repair a supposed “warranty” item WITH your car.  Lots of stories there on how they rip everyone off.


Yesterday, I received a bonus that was automatically deposited into my account – which is linked to online banking.

Simple.  Hasn’t failed yet.

But then, I saw a “NSF” charge for $35.


Don’t get me wrong.  I orchestrate my funds flow – in detail – as I am not rich.

To save even on a day’s interest charge (since my EARNINGS are taxed so much more now), I also schedule payments to “arrive” at the payee’s on the same day as my deposit.

That’s what B of A promises.  Headache free on-line banking.  I’m sure they make bazillions of dollar on float alone at the same time.


But yesterday…  Well actually, on January 30th, B of A “paid” a large check one day earlier than what I scheduled.  Not on the 31st as I scheduled per their “headache free online banking service”.

They paid it one whole day early.

It bounced.

Not “technically” as my bonus hit the bank a minute past midnight.  It bounced.  On the 30th.

Bank of America PROMPTLY charged me 35 stinking dollars.


I won’t expand on how much time I spent on THREE phone calls to get them to fix their error.  But they apologized.  Really.

But TODAY….  February 1st…  Their online banking system has been DOWN since about 7:30 AM.  It is now past 3:00 PM here.

Funny, isn’t it?

We can’t charge THEM $35 for not being able to access our money at ALL.

Zilch.  Nada.

Oh.  I’m sorry…

They are telling us to visit one of their convenient ATM’s… but would somebody tell them their ATM’s can’t pay my gas bill?


What a tender story told from her heart…

The Chatter Blog

When I was fifteen or sixteen I got my first job.  My first job independent of family run jobs or babysitting.   I worked at a fast food place.  The building had been part of a chain of fast food company but had had gone out of business.

When I started work I couldn’t work the weekends because my dad went out of town every weekend and took the kids with him.   They hired me on that condition.

Unfortunately they lied and the second or third week on the schedule they had me scheduled for Sunday.   Morning.   I had trained in the afternoons only.   After school hours.   It was usually pretty laid back.   But for the one time period of forty five minutes or so that the factory across the street had their dinner break.   The restaurant was not great, and even when…

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