17 March 2015

british racing green. . .the most IRISH of colors


Gordon Bennett Motor Race 1903
Leinster Leader, Saturday 11 April 1903- Page 6.

"Each nation will have its own distinguishing colours. English cars will be painted green in compliment to Ireland"

THE GREAT MOTOR RACE.

The great race for the possession of the Gordon-Bennett trophy, which will take place in the first week of July, has an interest for Ireland which cannot be exaggerated. For the first time in her history Ireland will be the envy of the sporting world. She has been selected as the battle-ground on which to decide the supremacy of the latest inventions to revolutionise locomotion. France, Germany, England and America will enter the lists to fight out the battle of speed on the morning of the 2nd of July. The contest will not only be a test of speed, but a test of the native workmanship of each of the competing countries as well.

One of the conditions of the race is that the cars must be the absolute production of their respective nationalities. This rule is rigid, and cannot be evaded. The application of it handicapped England in the first years of the contest, for the art of manufacturing the electric coil, the most vital part of the machinery, in which the French were adepts[sic], was only acquired by England recently. With such tremendous international trade issues depending upon the result, it will be readily understood how keen will be the struggle.

When it was first decided to run the race in Ireland, Naas was spoken of as the likely starting and finishing point, but quite recently the English and French champions decided that the roads from Naas to Kilcullen and Newbridge would be unsuitable for high speeds on account of their numerous turns and twists. After inspecting the district they at last decided that it would be much safer to start the cars a few miles south of Old Kilcullen, at the Ballyshannon cross roads, where the road lies straight for nearly three miles. The fatal accident to Count Zborowski recently at Nice, who was to have been one of the competitors in the race, justifies this alteration. The Count failing to bring his machine completely round a corner a few yards from the starting point, dashed straight onwards into the rocks which border the road, and was killed. This unhappy incident should be a timely warning to all and sundry to avoid corners while watching the race.

Notices printed both in English and Irish will be freely circulated, illustrating the dangers run by crossing or running out on the course after a car has passed.

Each nation will have its own distinguishing colours. English cars will be painted green in compliment to Ireland, German white, France blue and America red, so that spectators will be easily able to distinguish the car’s nationality, however fast they dash by. Punctually at 7 a.m. on the morning of the 2nd July Mr. Edge driving the first of the English green cars, will be despatched, followed by France, then America, and lastly Germany. One can imagine with what eagerness all will strive to distinguish the colour of the leading car as it returns on its first round. It is expected that the last will not reach the finishing point before 4 p.m.. On the Curragh the finest sport will be seen, for there the racers will take advantage of the flat fields in their endeavour to pass one another, and the sight of two leviathans each travelling at the rate of 70 miles an hour within a few inches of one another will be a sight worth seeing.

It is a difficult matter to predict the ultimate winner, but if speed were the only factor in the race the French cars, which are universally acknowledged to be the fastest, would probably take the prize. The new German cars built especially for the race have come out 28 lbs. over the regulation weight of one ton, so there will ensue a process of “sweating” them down to the proper weight. The English Napiers have been built more for reliability than abnormal speed, and have already been thoroughly tested on the road, but it is yet undecided whether the third place will be filled by another Napier or by a Star racing car. The eliminating test to decide this will probably be run in Ireland over a 20 to 30 mile stretch in the course of the next few weeks. This will be a good opportunity to get an idea of the rate of speed at which they can travel. The Americans are still in the experimental stage, and have as yet taken part in no important contest. They are unknown factors in motor racing, and speculation is strong as to their speed and capabilities.

The course will be kept clear by a guard of nearly 1,400 persons, and the whole length of the road will be roped off. The approach of the cars will be announced by buglers stationed at regular intervals, and all dangerous corners and bridges will be marked with flags. A request will probably be made to the farmers in the district which we are sure will be readily granted, to lend them carts and hurdles to block up all side roads and approaches. Intending spectators will do well to remember that on the day of the race the only way to the inside of the course will be through the “controls” at Kildare, Castledemott, Carlow and Athy. Through these towns the cars will be obliged to travel at a slow speed, preceded by a bicycle. The racing cars will be in Ireland several weeks before the contest, but will not be allowed to go round the course till the day of the race. Several fields have been purchased near the Ballyshannon cross roads on which large stands and enclosures will be erected for the accommodation of the foreign visitors – Sir C. K.


14 March 2015

nothing like a tasty slice of pi, part quinze

happy pi day/hour/minute/second

3/14/15 9:26 and 53.589793238462643383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286208998628034825342117067982148086513282306647093844609550582231725359408128481117450284102701938521105559644622948954930381964428810975665933446128475648233786783165271201909145648566923460348610454326648213393607260249141273724587006606315588174881520920962829254091715364367892590360011330530548820466521384146951941511609. . .seconds

07 February 2015

cats: they think they own the house: epilogue


and now the saga ends, sadly.

jewels, the black cat, joined princess, the gray one, at the kitty playground in the sky. she stopped eating about a week ago, and i took her to the vet on tuesday, whereupon the doc informed me of the cat's kidney failure. she went quietly into that good night.

she lived with us 15 good years, and she was a wonderful companion. she was tough as nails, and gentle as. . .erm. . .a kitten.



jack and owen, the other two cats, know something is amiss. owen skulks about and won't venture into our bedroom where jewels would sleep. jack just looks more confused than usual.

something IS off. there is no chatter when I enter my room, no slumbering presence at the foot of my bed. she is gone. . .but this time there is no creepy emotional detachment. this is real, and my home is changed.

thanks for the memories, jewels. you will be missed.  farewell, cat.

-----

for a good chuckle, the rest of the story begins here. enjoy the saga.

14 March 2012

nothing like a tasty slice of pi, part deux

happy pi day/hour/minute/second



3/14 1:59 and 26.53589793238462643383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286208998628034825342117067982148086513282306647093844609550582231725359408128481117450284102701938521105559644622948954930381964428810975665933446128475648233786783165271201909145648566923460348610454326648213393607260249141273724587006606315588174881520920962829254091715364367892590360011330530548820466521384146951941511609... seconds

05 October 2011

Bad Prediction of the day:

"There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home." 
-- Ken Olson, president, chairman and founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1977 --


This sentiment was uttered at about the same time that
a guy named Steve Jobs was starting a little company called Apple

18 May 2011

he aint heavy. . .he's my brother

gene and me, 26 may 1990


-------------------------------


The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother


So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there


For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother


If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another


It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share


And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy he's my brother


He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

24 April 2011

a toast to family

May the best ye've ever seen
Be the worst ye'll ever see
May a mouse ne'er leave yer girnal
Wi' a tear drap in his e'e
May ye aye keep hale an' he'rty
Till ye're auld eneuch tae dee
May ye aye be jist as happy
As we wish ye aye tae be

happy easter egg


blessed are those
to whom Easter is not a hunt…but a find;
not a greeting…but a proclamation;
not outward fashion…but inward grace;
not a day…but eternity.

--thanks to dave h for this one--

21 April 2011

please be on the lookout. . .

i have some friends who have left their native iraq and are refugees from the current war. they need a place to stay, so i thought i'd mention you. they will be stopping by in the next couple of days. if you have room to keep them, even for a night, they'd be indebted to you for life--they'll do anything for you.

please be on the lookout. . .they'll show up in two cars--a green mercedes and a white mercedes.

they travel light, and won't be too much trouble.

would you mind lending a hand?

thanks.

click here for a picture so you'll know what they look like.

19 April 2011

rise of the machines. . .

today is THE DAY that doomed all of humanity. . .because according to "Terminator 2," April 19, 2011 at 8:11 PM, Skynet became self aware, starting a chain of events that led to a war between man and machine. . .



so everyone, smoke em if you got 'em!!




--thanks to k woodman for this one--

19 March 2011

Cemetery Watchman



My friend Kevin and I are volunteers at a National cemetery in Oklahoma and put in a few days a month in a 'slightly larger' uniform.


Today had been a long, long day and I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's and have a cold one. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 16:55. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.


I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace.. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.


I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.


Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.


I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.


I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.


'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'


She took long enough to answer.


'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'


'My pleasure, ma'am.' (Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.)


She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'


' Vietnam, ma'am.. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'


She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'


I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'


She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off.. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time..'


'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'


She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flower bunches out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.


She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.


She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.


She paused for a second and more tears flowed. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done'


I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'


She looked confused.. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'


I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'


'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'


She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on  Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out and more tears flowed.


'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'


'Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'


She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all Marines.'


She stopped! Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.


I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.


'Get to the 'Out' gate quick.. I have something I've got to do.'


Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road fast. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.


'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post


When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'


I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.


She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice far beyond the realm of most.


I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.


Instead of 'The End,' just think of 'Taps.'


As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer:  


'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'


Let's all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.


-- author unknown --

27 January 2011

dubious grammar of the day. . .

Received this in an email today:

"The Last and Final Deadline for submission is this Friday, January 28."

Funny, but I didn't receive notice indicating there was a Second-to-Last and Almost Final Deadline. 

Doesn't "Deadline" imply Last Day, making "Last" redundant, and therefore "and Final" doubly-redundant?

Where do these people learn to write?


25 December 2010

christmas wishes

Nollaig Shona agus Athbhliain faoi mhaise daoibh go léir!
Happy Christmas and lovely New Year to all!