I got a speeding ticket the other day, with my 9 year old granddaughter in the back seat. Not on the freeway where normal people would get cited, I was speeding down the main drag of Agua Dulce, a sleepy little town with very little crime and very little Police presence. In a hurry, I drove 45 in a 35 zone. I saw the CHP car and my heart sank faster than I could find the brake pedal.
"I'm an idiot." I revealed to Katie, just in case she'd missed the obvious. I pulled over and waited for the inevitable ticket.
"Mimi?" Katie asked softly. "Will he take you to jail?"
"Why don't you ask him?" I said, hopefully. The pleas of an innocent child might be my only shot at mercy!
"No way!" The child became mute. I was on my own.
After the ticket, as I drove away the kid gave me her take on the situation:
"I think that cop was a rookie, 'cause he was young. That was probably the first ticket he ever wrote- and he got to give it to an old lady!"
Now my humiliation is complete.

O.J, Redux

Is there some kind of magnet that draws every weirdo on the planet to news conferences? Are they compelled to wear stupid shirts, hold up signs and chant? O.J., of course, draws a special kind of weirdo- the kind that gives double murderers a pass.
It's probably not right for me to hope O.J. goes to prison for life . . .BUT I am praying that the prosecution makes NO mistakes.

Remember

Six years ago our nation stood together, sharing tears and heartbreak. We were united in our pain and steadfast in our love of country. Republicans and Democrats stood on the steps of Congress and sang 'God Bless America'. This nation stood shoulder to shoulder and prayed that God would help us even though we’d pushed Him away.

When I see the images of that day my grief is renewed but so is my determination. I love this country and I would give my life in her defense. Because someone else's son, brother or father went in my place that has not been required.

I pray that this nation will remember why we are at war. Let's stop the bickering and remember that terrorists attacked our country in three separate locations and remember that nearly 3000 innocent lives were lost that day. Their attack was no less an act of war than the bombing of Pearl Harbor was. Americans worked together then to insure that freedom could continue to ring. We must work together again or risk losing everything we hold dear.

Because of those who have volunteered then and now, I am free to write about 'Stuff I'm Thinkin' regardless of whether anyone cares. I can make jokes about our nation's politicians without fear (although my taxes may be audited after the 2008 election), I can gripe about the price of gas and about damn ants. I can worship God freely and loudly.

Outside of heaven it doesn't get much better than that!

White Coats

Those white-coated guys have held me captive! They tricked me into trying on a jacket (they said) had been made especially for me.

I don't know who their tailor is but the sleeves were way too long- they wrapped all the way around to my back! The designer must have had a thing for buckles too- those hideous sleeves and the back of the jacket had buckles everywhere. Weird.

I wouldn't recommend their Interior Designer either- the "green" room was a hideous gray. Worse, it was padded, wrapped in thick foam and covered with fabric-even the floor! There wasn't a stick of furniture either. Such an odd design, the place just screamed Crazy!

Anyway, they finally set me free once I convinced them that I was Al Gore's sister and that Ants create carbon emissions.

I hated to play the "Gore" card, but desperate times require desperate measures.

The Battle Continues . . .

We’re all sick of my ant stories but I am compelled to share them until my home is safe again. Or, until I'm taken away in a straitjacket.
The outside ant-crack houses had proved successful, so I bought a 4-pack to replace those now-sucked-dry units. As I've experienced, ants have sleeper-cells just waiting for me to let my guard down.
This same company (TERRO) makes indoor units using the same poison. I thought, Why not? I purchased a 6-pack for indoor use.(Ant-killer stuff, not booze! I'll hold out until heavy-duty medication is provided at that special hospital)
The indoor stuff is in 3 inch, clear plastic strips, containing the lethal poison. You simply clip the plastic and any ant passing by is enticed by the syrup. That should take care of any that were able to slip by the perimeter units.
I put ONE on the windowsill near my desk and left the room.
Out of curiosity I checked for progress at the outside units first. Nothing. Apparently the word was out: Crack Kills. Especially if it's at that crazy lady's house. I threw my head back and laughed like, well, a crazy lady.
The directions clearly state: Monitor regularly for activity but do not interfere with the ants or baits. Replace with additional baits when the first set is depleted.
I checked the windowsill again. It was like a horror film! The sill was black with ants speeding in and out of the unit. Several had been killed in the stampede and the trap was littered with their bodies. The million or more survivors were sucking up the ant-crack and scurrying back to the nest.
I set three more traps and closed the door. I woke up at least four times during the night to monitor the activity. (I wasn't sleeping well anyway- I kept dreaming about that sci-fi movie from the Fifties with the giant ants.)
By this morning it is obvious that I am now attracting outside ants indoors. At this point I am seriously considering offering my home on E-Bay as the World’s Largest Ant Farm!
First, I need to see why there are men in white coats outside my front door . . .

Name That Tune

As I sit here at my desk, I'm assaulted by what sounds like:
(1) a jet engine outside my window
or
(2) the occupants of Hell, screaming.
I look out of the window and discover it's #2. Hell has cleverly disguised itself as the car of a teenager!
The words to the "song" are drowned out by the pounding bass that is setting off car alarms, dogs and in my case, the beginnings of a migraine headache.
While I'm not sure of the song title, I'm fairly certain the band is called Projectile Vomit.
At least it should be.