Seriously. He did. In my living room.
I fed Lagniappe his normal meal, then I left for a while. Upon my return, I find that he has gone into the pantry and removed all of the packets of French's spaghetti sauce mix from a shelf that sits a bit above his eye level and taken them into the living room, where he opened them all.
WTF?
Now I'm at a loss to figure out what brought this on. In all our years together, he has never helped himself to food from the pantry, especially packaged dry food. He doesn't even go into his own open dog food bag that's in there. I've always been able to trust him to the point where there wasn't even a question.
Now suddenly it seems that he's developed a craving for spaghetti sauce and somehow, the packets that I had put on the shelf became community property.
Again, WTF? He didn't touch his own food that was right there--he just cleaned me out of spaghetti sauce. Lucky for me, his lack of opposable thumbs kept him from working the can opener and getting the tomato paste cans open.
And of course he looks all innocent while I clean up the mess.
I swear, one of these days I'm going to trade this dog for a goldfish and then I'm going to flush the goldfish.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
A fine range day
OK, it was seriously cold out there, but that just meant that I had the range to myself.
This time, I went out with my old reliable Smith and Wesson Model 66 .357 revolver and my newest acquisition--a Marlin 1894 rifle chambered for the same caliber.
Now many years ago, I had a .357 Magnum rifle and pistol combo comprised of that same revolver and a Rossi lever-action rifle that I'd bought from a friend. I spent a fantastic summer roaming the mountains of Colorado with that pair, and it was great to be able to just plink around with light .38 Special loads from either one, or fire some serious .357 Magnum heat downrange if the situation called for it. And standardizing the rifle and pistol meant that I only had to pack two types of ammo--light loads and heavy loads--and while they were completely interchangeable between the two firearms, the longer barrel of the rifle really brought out maximum performance from the cartridges, boosting the muzzle velocity and effective range significantly. The pistol was concealable and convenient in it's holster or next to my bedroll at night (often actually inside my sleeping bag) and the rifle gave me enhanced power and accuracy at longer ranges.
Sadly, I sold that rifle years ago after having a falling-out with the friend that I'd bought it from. And of course that was around the time when these rifles became popular with the Cowboy Action shooters and prices shot up on the few that you could still find on the market. Then the ambulance-chasing tort lawyers convinced the firearms industry that even lever guns should have safety catches so the gun companies all started making these rifles with ugly--and unnecessary--safeties that did little more than destroy the clean lines of these slim and graceful guns. (Seriously, the rifles have external hammers that can be lowered until just prior to firing. That's all the safety that a competent shooter needs on a firearm like this.) I vowed that I would never buy a lever gun with a safety and I meant it. I'd always meant to get a replacement .357 Magnum rifle (without a safety) but could never find an affordable one at a time when I had the money in hand until just recently. A neighbor had a few guns that he was looking to sell, and damned if one of them wasn't a .357 magnum rifle.
So I snapped it up at a more-than-fair price and took it home. I cleaned it and oiled it and waited for a day like this when I could take it out and put it through it's paces. And it definitely did not disappoint. I zeroed it at 25 yards then moved it out and set it up with a 100 yard zero and after a bit of adjustment to the rear sight with a hammer to drift it to where it should have been from where it was, it's dead nuts accurate and will put ten .357 rounds on target as quick as I can work the lever.
And just for grins, after shooting my standard self-defense practice course on the 25 yard range with the revolver, I tried it on the 100 yard range along with the rifle and was quite pleased to find out that I could keep almost every round within a six-inch circle at that distance. It wasn't quite as accurate as the rifle at that range, but I'm confident that I can put consistent torso hits on person-sized targets at that distance, and that's not something I'd try to do with the typical 9mm or .45 pistol.
Of course the .357 Magnum was made to deliver more performance at longer ranges than the typical pistol caliber; that's what it's for. And that's why if I had to choose between all of my pistols and could only take one with me for the rest of my life, it'd probably be this Model 66, just because it's so versatile and because it's built solidly enough that it will probably outlast me.
So once again, I'm set up with a reliable and effective rifle/pistol combo that I can go back into the high country with. Perhaps this summer will see another backpacking trip and for reasons I've previously explained, these two guns will accompany me, just like the old days. AR-15's are great, but when it's time to hike the mountains, nothing beats a good lever-action rifle/revolver combo.
This time, I went out with my old reliable Smith and Wesson Model 66 .357 revolver and my newest acquisition--a Marlin 1894 rifle chambered for the same caliber.
Now many years ago, I had a .357 Magnum rifle and pistol combo comprised of that same revolver and a Rossi lever-action rifle that I'd bought from a friend. I spent a fantastic summer roaming the mountains of Colorado with that pair, and it was great to be able to just plink around with light .38 Special loads from either one, or fire some serious .357 Magnum heat downrange if the situation called for it. And standardizing the rifle and pistol meant that I only had to pack two types of ammo--light loads and heavy loads--and while they were completely interchangeable between the two firearms, the longer barrel of the rifle really brought out maximum performance from the cartridges, boosting the muzzle velocity and effective range significantly. The pistol was concealable and convenient in it's holster or next to my bedroll at night (often actually inside my sleeping bag) and the rifle gave me enhanced power and accuracy at longer ranges.
Sadly, I sold that rifle years ago after having a falling-out with the friend that I'd bought it from. And of course that was around the time when these rifles became popular with the Cowboy Action shooters and prices shot up on the few that you could still find on the market. Then the ambulance-chasing tort lawyers convinced the firearms industry that even lever guns should have safety catches so the gun companies all started making these rifles with ugly--and unnecessary--safeties that did little more than destroy the clean lines of these slim and graceful guns. (Seriously, the rifles have external hammers that can be lowered until just prior to firing. That's all the safety that a competent shooter needs on a firearm like this.) I vowed that I would never buy a lever gun with a safety and I meant it. I'd always meant to get a replacement .357 Magnum rifle (without a safety) but could never find an affordable one at a time when I had the money in hand until just recently. A neighbor had a few guns that he was looking to sell, and damned if one of them wasn't a .357 magnum rifle.
So I snapped it up at a more-than-fair price and took it home. I cleaned it and oiled it and waited for a day like this when I could take it out and put it through it's paces. And it definitely did not disappoint. I zeroed it at 25 yards then moved it out and set it up with a 100 yard zero and after a bit of adjustment to the rear sight with a hammer to drift it to where it should have been from where it was, it's dead nuts accurate and will put ten .357 rounds on target as quick as I can work the lever.
And just for grins, after shooting my standard self-defense practice course on the 25 yard range with the revolver, I tried it on the 100 yard range along with the rifle and was quite pleased to find out that I could keep almost every round within a six-inch circle at that distance. It wasn't quite as accurate as the rifle at that range, but I'm confident that I can put consistent torso hits on person-sized targets at that distance, and that's not something I'd try to do with the typical 9mm or .45 pistol.
Of course the .357 Magnum was made to deliver more performance at longer ranges than the typical pistol caliber; that's what it's for. And that's why if I had to choose between all of my pistols and could only take one with me for the rest of my life, it'd probably be this Model 66, just because it's so versatile and because it's built solidly enough that it will probably outlast me.
So once again, I'm set up with a reliable and effective rifle/pistol combo that I can go back into the high country with. Perhaps this summer will see another backpacking trip and for reasons I've previously explained, these two guns will accompany me, just like the old days. AR-15's are great, but when it's time to hike the mountains, nothing beats a good lever-action rifle/revolver combo.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
People who need to be shot.
When I get to be President, certain offenses will be punishable by immediate termination, without appeal or even trial. Today's events have brought two such offenses to mind:
--People who walk into a coffee shop or take-out place at lunch time with a list of orders for several other people who are not present, especially if it requires the entire staff of the establishment to ignore everyone else while they work on assembling that one large order which could have been faxed or phoned in yet wasn't. I will deputize anyone standing in line behind such people to summarily shoot them.
--People who coast along obliviously (or deliberately) in the left lane--which is known as "the passing lane" for a reason--of a multi-lane highway at 55mph at rush hour, clogging up the whole damned highway by preventing anyone from passing them. However in the spirit of trying to educate people first, I will only have offenders executed for second offenses. First-time offenders will merely be pulled from their cars by squads of ex-LAPD officers and publicly beaten like Rodney King.
--People who walk into a coffee shop or take-out place at lunch time with a list of orders for several other people who are not present, especially if it requires the entire staff of the establishment to ignore everyone else while they work on assembling that one large order which could have been faxed or phoned in yet wasn't. I will deputize anyone standing in line behind such people to summarily shoot them.
--People who coast along obliviously (or deliberately) in the left lane--which is known as "the passing lane" for a reason--of a multi-lane highway at 55mph at rush hour, clogging up the whole damned highway by preventing anyone from passing them. However in the spirit of trying to educate people first, I will only have offenders executed for second offenses. First-time offenders will merely be pulled from their cars by squads of ex-LAPD officers and publicly beaten like Rodney King.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Just because I like Phantom jets...
Here's a few gratuitous Phantom pics from my last trip to the Smithsonian Air and Space Annex.
I remember back when I was much younger, a few times my father took me out to the local Air National Guard Base on the week-ends to watch these magnificent machines fly. There was an access road that ran right along the perimeter fence and there was room to pull off and park adjacent to the end of the runway. We sat there for hours just waiting for the Phantoms to take off and fly around, shooting touch-and-go landings and literally skimming our car on the take-offs as they shot over the fence, clearing it by what had to be no more than 20-30 feet, rocking the car in their wake. They were close enough that you could feel them--the jet blast would hurt uncovered ears, and for a minute all you could smell in the air was the soot that was drifting down onto everything. (My dad was a neat freak about his cars and never really cared for that part.)
I also remember my dad locking the keys in the car out there one afternoon, too. Suffice it to say that we saw a lot more planes than usual that day as we waited hours for a locksmith. Good times.
This video gives you an idea of what it was like watching these aircraft take off. Turn your sound up as high as it'll go for the best experience.
And we were much closer. Just imagine those going directly overhead, usually two at a time.
But now the Phantoms are gone. A few fly on on foreign air forces but our Navy stopped flying them in 1987 and the Air Force and Marines phased them out by 1996. They were all consigned to boneyards or museums except for one lone survivor still flown by the Collings Foundation on the airshow circuit as an Air Force recruiting tool. (Thanks to Ed Rasimus for tipping me off to it.) I hope to see it someday, just for old times' sake.
Pop, if you come with me, I'm holding the car keys.
I remember back when I was much younger, a few times my father took me out to the local Air National Guard Base on the week-ends to watch these magnificent machines fly. There was an access road that ran right along the perimeter fence and there was room to pull off and park adjacent to the end of the runway. We sat there for hours just waiting for the Phantoms to take off and fly around, shooting touch-and-go landings and literally skimming our car on the take-offs as they shot over the fence, clearing it by what had to be no more than 20-30 feet, rocking the car in their wake. They were close enough that you could feel them--the jet blast would hurt uncovered ears, and for a minute all you could smell in the air was the soot that was drifting down onto everything. (My dad was a neat freak about his cars and never really cared for that part.)
I also remember my dad locking the keys in the car out there one afternoon, too. Suffice it to say that we saw a lot more planes than usual that day as we waited hours for a locksmith. Good times.
This video gives you an idea of what it was like watching these aircraft take off. Turn your sound up as high as it'll go for the best experience.
And we were much closer. Just imagine those going directly overhead, usually two at a time.
But now the Phantoms are gone. A few fly on on foreign air forces but our Navy stopped flying them in 1987 and the Air Force and Marines phased them out by 1996. They were all consigned to boneyards or museums except for one lone survivor still flown by the Collings Foundation on the airshow circuit as an Air Force recruiting tool. (Thanks to Ed Rasimus for tipping me off to it.) I hope to see it someday, just for old times' sake.
Pop, if you come with me, I'm holding the car keys.
Friday, January 22, 2010
The day that we almost had a cat
So last week, as Lagniappe and I were driving back from our extended trip down south, I happened to stop at a small gas station in Yemassee, South Carolina. I just needed gas and coffee, but we came very close to coming away with a cat as well.
As I gassed up, I noticed a cute little yellow cat going from person to person at the pumps. Now I don't care for cats, and Lagniappe really doesn't care for cats, but when this one walked up to me as I went into the station and rubbed up against my legs, I couldn't help but pet it and wonder why it was out here all by itself. It felt clean and seemed to be well-fed, but the lady inside the gas station said "that cat don't belong to nobody." I walked out, petted it again, then got in the van and drive off. And Lagniappe apparently knew what I was thinking, because he was looking at me as if to say: "don't do it!"
I was thinking about it hard. I felt sorry for the cat. Every animal needs a home. Maybe I could get one of my friends to adopt it. Heck--I know people who have cats; maybe I could have a cat. And I've been meaning to get Lagniappe a pet of his own so that he'll have company when I'm gone.
But I don't know the first thing about having cats.
So here's where I insert my apology to all of my cat-having friends whose phones rang at like 7AM on that Saturday morning. I needed advice. There was a cat at stake. But alas, none of those heartless bastards answered.
But I decided to go back and grab the cat regardless. I have a long history of doing this with stray dogs so how hard could a cat be? They just need cat food and a litter box, right? And I'm sure that given time, even Lagniappe would come to like the cat. After all, it was so nice and friendly.
So I turned around, went back to the gas station, and spotted the cat. But now the cat that was so friendly just five minutes ago wouldn't come anywhere near me. I must have chased that cat around for another ten minutes without being able to get within twenty feet of it. WTF? Talk about your Jekyll-and-Hyde personalities. THIS is why I don't like cats.
I finally had to give up and leave it behind. I do hope that it has a home nearby but if you're passing through Yemassee, South Carolina on I-95, check that gas station right off to the east side of the exit for a little yellow cat. If it's still there and you want a cat...
As I gassed up, I noticed a cute little yellow cat going from person to person at the pumps. Now I don't care for cats, and Lagniappe really doesn't care for cats, but when this one walked up to me as I went into the station and rubbed up against my legs, I couldn't help but pet it and wonder why it was out here all by itself. It felt clean and seemed to be well-fed, but the lady inside the gas station said "that cat don't belong to nobody." I walked out, petted it again, then got in the van and drive off. And Lagniappe apparently knew what I was thinking, because he was looking at me as if to say: "don't do it!"
I was thinking about it hard. I felt sorry for the cat. Every animal needs a home. Maybe I could get one of my friends to adopt it. Heck--I know people who have cats; maybe I could have a cat. And I've been meaning to get Lagniappe a pet of his own so that he'll have company when I'm gone.
But I don't know the first thing about having cats.
So here's where I insert my apology to all of my cat-having friends whose phones rang at like 7AM on that Saturday morning. I needed advice. There was a cat at stake. But alas, none of those heartless bastards answered.
But I decided to go back and grab the cat regardless. I have a long history of doing this with stray dogs so how hard could a cat be? They just need cat food and a litter box, right? And I'm sure that given time, even Lagniappe would come to like the cat. After all, it was so nice and friendly.
So I turned around, went back to the gas station, and spotted the cat. But now the cat that was so friendly just five minutes ago wouldn't come anywhere near me. I must have chased that cat around for another ten minutes without being able to get within twenty feet of it. WTF? Talk about your Jekyll-and-Hyde personalities. THIS is why I don't like cats.
I finally had to give up and leave it behind. I do hope that it has a home nearby but if you're passing through Yemassee, South Carolina on I-95, check that gas station right off to the east side of the exit for a little yellow cat. If it's still there and you want a cat...
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Just when I thought that this week couldn't get any better...Air America finally folds
Yep...on the heels of America giving the Obama/Progressive movement the finger in Massachusetts by electing Republican Scott Brown to Ted "the swimmer" Kennedy's old senate seat and the Supreme Court striking down much of the McCain-Feingold Campaign Finance law as unconstitutional, Air America, the radio network established to blast liberal hate for President Bush and American values in general into the airwaves, has finally declared bankruptcy and will shut down for good. Never able to make money on advertising (for the simple reason that it never drew any significant audience...ane who wants to listen to that crap?)and financed by a ring of wealthy liberals and the theft of funds from at least one children's organization, the network that gave voice to such miserable haters as Randi Rhodes, Janeane Garafalo, Rachel Maddow and Al Franken is now going the way of all of those liberal investors' dollars...right down the toilet.
Of course in their press release, they claim that they failed because...well...because all of radio is down right now. It's not because they suck or because no one wanted to listen to them spew hate and derision at everyone else who wasn't to the left of Marx. Of course not. I mean, anyone can see that Limbaugh, Hannity, Ingraham, Beck and the other conservative hosts are losing advertising revenues, too. Oh, wait--no they aren't. The conservative shows are doing just fine and actually picking up more stations. So maybe it is just the nimrods at Air America who couldn't attract an audience or compete in the arena of ideas. That free market's a bitch, isn't it, lefties?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!!!!
Of course in their press release, they claim that they failed because...well...because all of radio is down right now. It's not because they suck or because no one wanted to listen to them spew hate and derision at everyone else who wasn't to the left of Marx. Of course not. I mean, anyone can see that Limbaugh, Hannity, Ingraham, Beck and the other conservative hosts are losing advertising revenues, too. Oh, wait--no they aren't. The conservative shows are doing just fine and actually picking up more stations. So maybe it is just the nimrods at Air America who couldn't attract an audience or compete in the arena of ideas. That free market's a bitch, isn't it, lefties?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!!!!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Still more travel shots
Because even though we were on the road, Lagniappe still had to see Santa. So we went to Savannah, Georgia because Santa was sitting by the waterfront there.
And Santa gave him a squeaky stuffed armadillo to go with his squeaky stuffed hedgehog. Thanks, Santa. I'll get you for that.
And while we were there, we glimpsed a ship coming up the river.
I'm guessing that all of those shipping containers are empty. The ship's only drawing about 9 feet by her draft lines.
Hey look--two guys standing just above the lifeboat. Wonder what they're doing?
Of course! When I zoom in close, it's clear that the one on the right (without the orange vest) is taking a picture back at us!
And Santa gave him a squeaky stuffed armadillo to go with his squeaky stuffed hedgehog. Thanks, Santa. I'll get you for that.And while we were there, we glimpsed a ship coming up the river.
I'm guessing that all of those shipping containers are empty. The ship's only drawing about 9 feet by her draft lines.
Hey look--two guys standing just above the lifeboat. Wonder what they're doing?
Of course! When I zoom in close, it's clear that the one on the right (without the orange vest) is taking a picture back at us!
Just three words
After Scott Brown's absolute trouncing of Democrat Martha Coakley last night in the race for the Massachusetts Senate seat formerly held by Ted "the submariner" Kennedy, I have just three words for Barack Obama, for Ed Schultz, for Nancy Pelosi, for Harry Reid, and for the union members who were counting on Coakley to shore up the Dems' attempt to run this country on a totally partisan platform with no regard whatsoever for the desires and beliefs of the half of America who has a different vision:
NEENER!
NEENER!
NEENER!
I would have made it four words but I didn't want it to look as if I were gloating.
America, you've been given one more chance. Don't blow it.
NEENER!
NEENER!
NEENER!
I would have made it four words but I didn't want it to look as if I were gloating.
America, you've been given one more chance. Don't blow it.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
America wins, Obama and progressives lose in Mass.
Martha Coakley concedes early as the voters in Mass. elect the first Republican Senator in nearly 40 years. Scott Brown goes to the Senate, denying Obama his 60-seat filibuster-proof majority. Rumor has it that several leading progressives have committed suicide...and no one seems to mind.
Sometimes things happen that reaffirm your faith in America. This election stands as one of them. God Bless the United States.
Sometimes things happen that reaffirm your faith in America. This election stands as one of them. God Bless the United States.
More trip pics.
A few more pics from my recent travel with Lagniappe. One nice day, we went alligator hunting down near Cape Canaveral. And since it was nice and sunny on that one day, we found plenty of them right in plain view of the road.
Lagniappe at one point had his head out the window barking at one that was sitting on the bank and I missed the photo because I was trying to keep him inside the vehicle. I kept telling him that it was a fight that he'd lose, but I don't think that he believed me. Anyway, here are some of the others:
And to think I almost forked over $18.00 to see captive alligators in a park in St Augustine. Why spend the dough when there are so many of them that you can see for free live and up close?
But here's a sign of the times--a sign just for stupid people. Wouldn't you think that everything on here is just common sense? Of course this is in the state where even the natives can't figure out simple things like presidential ballots.
Lagniappe at one point had his head out the window barking at one that was sitting on the bank and I missed the photo because I was trying to keep him inside the vehicle. I kept telling him that it was a fight that he'd lose, but I don't think that he believed me. Anyway, here are some of the others:
And to think I almost forked over $18.00 to see captive alligators in a park in St Augustine. Why spend the dough when there are so many of them that you can see for free live and up close?But here's a sign of the times--a sign just for stupid people. Wouldn't you think that everything on here is just common sense? Of course this is in the state where even the natives can't figure out simple things like presidential ballots.
Massachusetts senate race close...And voting fraud already being discovered
As usual, since it appears that the far left "progressives" might not be able to win honestly, they're doing what Ed Schultz suggested and cheating. Michelle Malkin, Michael Graham and others watching are circulating a video of a known democrat activist named Isabel Martinez handing out blank absentee ballots and instructing people to mark off Democrat Martha Coakley's name. Other shenanigans are reportedly going on as well, all aimed at defeating Republican Scott Brown and helping Coakley win. Do we really need another fraudulently-elected senator in Washington? Isn't Al Franken enough?
We'll see what we'll see when the polls close. And of course the Dems are already talking about slowing the official count down to keep Brown from taking the seat if it appears that he won.
Be ashamed, Dems... Be ashamed.
Oh--and MSNBC's Ed Schultz is now saying that not only is he not sorry that he advocated voter fraud in this race, but he'd actually cheat twice as much and vote twenty times if he could...and of course he calls anyone who disagrees with him more nasty names. How can any of you Democrats let this guy stand next to you and claim to be one of you? Surely there must be at least one of you who has some honor?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Anyone?
We'll see what we'll see when the polls close. And of course the Dems are already talking about slowing the official count down to keep Brown from taking the seat if it appears that he won.
Be ashamed, Dems... Be ashamed.
Oh--and MSNBC's Ed Schultz is now saying that not only is he not sorry that he advocated voter fraud in this race, but he'd actually cheat twice as much and vote twenty times if he could...and of course he calls anyone who disagrees with him more nasty names. How can any of you Democrats let this guy stand next to you and claim to be one of you? Surely there must be at least one of you who has some honor?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Anyone?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Why Scott Brown needs to win in Massachusetts tomorrow.
Reason #632... Because those who are the most opposed to him are the worst sort of hateful scumbags.
And as exhibit #1, I give you left-wing hate-monger Ed Schultz of MSNBC, who declares that he'd subvert democracy and cheat if he thought it would keep Brown from being elected...and urges his listeners (all three or four dozen of them) to give it a try.
I'm waiting for some Democrat to denounce Ed Schultz, but I suspect that I'll be waiting a long, long time.
Scott Brown needs to win tomorrow if for no other reason than because this is the face of the opposition--the liberal elitists who despise Democracy if it means that they don't get their way.
Go Scott, Go!
And as exhibit #1, I give you left-wing hate-monger Ed Schultz of MSNBC, who declares that he'd subvert democracy and cheat if he thought it would keep Brown from being elected...and urges his listeners (all three or four dozen of them) to give it a try.
Radio Equalizer's Brian Maloney captured MSNBC's Ed Schultz making a startling remark on his radio show yesterday about supporting voter fraud in Massachusetts, so Scott Brown would lose. The audio is below along with the transcript.
SCHULTZ (23:02): I tell you what, if I lived in Massachusetts I'd try to vote 10 times. I don't know if they'd let me or not, but I'd try to. Yeah, that's right. I'd cheat to keep these bastards out. I would. 'Cause that's exactly what they are.
I'm waiting for some Democrat to denounce Ed Schultz, but I suspect that I'll be waiting a long, long time.
Scott Brown needs to win tomorrow if for no other reason than because this is the face of the opposition--the liberal elitists who despise Democracy if it means that they don't get their way.
Go Scott, Go!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
More proof that "medical marijuana" is just a scam to let almost anyone get weed
This tale out of Brighton, Colorado has it all...a hundred potheads, a doctor fleeing the police, a Chiropractor and his wife going to jail... So much for the fiction that medical marijuana is only used by a few pitiful people in the end stages of their lives.
And states that are considering legalizing marijuana for medicinal purposes need to look at stories like this. They are becoming more and more common, especially when the average "medical marijuana" card-holder is now apt to be some twenty-something skateboarder who claims to have some injury that no one else can see instead of the poor cancer or glaucoma sufferer that we were all told this law was being passed to help.
And if we're going to treat marijuana as a legitimate medicine, let's at least start controlling it like one by establishing purity standards, licensing and regulating growers and dispensing it through actual pharmacies instead of letting any old Cheech or Chong set himself up in the business of selling it. As it stands now, the whole thing is just a joke and I'm all in favor of just going back to the day when weed was illegal and warranted a record and maybe some time in jail. We gave the potheads an inch based on their claims of legitimate use for a select few, and they abused it. So screw 'em; let's just go back to jailing the potheads until they learn to leave the stuff alone.
A Brighton chiropractor and two other people were arrested Saturday for distributing pot after police say 100 people gathered — and smoked — at a makeshift medical-marijuana dispensary.So the "doctor" needs to be located, charged criminally and stripped of his license to practice. Then this so-called "clinic" needs to be padlocked and/or seized. And every pothead who was identified as having been there needs to be put on a list of those who have abused the medical marijuana system and barred from getting it again unless and until they appear at a hearing and have a real doctor testify before a panel of other legitimate medical experts about the patient's actual need for weed.
The chiropractic office building on South Fourth Avenue in Brighton was set up as an "assembly line to give out marijuana prescriptions" — complete with a doctor and a caregiver, said Sgt. Jim Gearhardt of the North Metro Drug Task Force.
Patients were paying $100 each to get into the building, police said.
When police arrived, the prescribing doctor fled the scene. Officers smelled pot smoke and arrested a chiropractor and his wife, and the caretaker dispensing the pot. Police declined to give the names of those arrested until they finished the investigation.
Brighton has a ban on medical-marijuana dispensaries, Gearhardt said.
Police said they were trying to get a search warrant to determine whether there is any more marijuana in the office building.
"The state law allows distribution of marijuana for medical purposes," said Sgt. Scott Takahashi of the North Metro Task Force. "It appears every single person coming through the door here was getting pot."
Chiropractor Darrin Marchus co-owns the building where the arrests were made. He was seeing his chiropractic patients on Saturday morning when he heard the commotion outside.
"I was doing my normal day, seeing patients," he said. "And there were a bunch of people lining up and police lining up."
He said the chiropractor with whom he shares the building, Jeffrey Gappa, who runs Complete Care of Colorado, told him last week he was having a "meeting" Saturday.
"He said he was going to have a talk of some kind with some people," Marchus said. "He was very secretive about all of it."
Marchus said Gappa mentioned something about medical marijuana, and Marchus told him he didn't want any part of that in their shared office building.
Marchus is worried sick about how the drama will affect his business, Marchus Chiropractic, which he has built over 20 years in Brighton.
State lawmakers are crafting legislation that should provide clarity to the state's burgeoning medical-marijuana industry.
State Sen. Chris Romer, D-Denver, is working on a measure that would create more stringent rules on the relationship between patients and prescribing doctors.
The bill would require the doctor and patient to have a "bona fide" relationship in which the doctor provides the patient a full examination and follow-up care before a prescription.
Rob Corry, an attorney representing the interests of the medical-marijuana industry, said Saturday's arrests were timely.
"I am sure there is no coincidence whatsoever between the fact this comes to light at the moment the state legislature is thinking about debating this issue," he said.
And states that are considering legalizing marijuana for medicinal purposes need to look at stories like this. They are becoming more and more common, especially when the average "medical marijuana" card-holder is now apt to be some twenty-something skateboarder who claims to have some injury that no one else can see instead of the poor cancer or glaucoma sufferer that we were all told this law was being passed to help.
And if we're going to treat marijuana as a legitimate medicine, let's at least start controlling it like one by establishing purity standards, licensing and regulating growers and dispensing it through actual pharmacies instead of letting any old Cheech or Chong set himself up in the business of selling it. As it stands now, the whole thing is just a joke and I'm all in favor of just going back to the day when weed was illegal and warranted a record and maybe some time in jail. We gave the potheads an inch based on their claims of legitimate use for a select few, and they abused it. So screw 'em; let's just go back to jailing the potheads until they learn to leave the stuff alone.
Trackers...
While roaming out and about, Lagniappe and I found this field full of Grumman S2 Trackers near St. Augustine, Florida. Naturally we spent an hour or so poking around them. If only my van had a trailer hitch...
Anyway... There are way too many photos of these aircraft to post here, so I set up a new page just to catalog them and do them justice. Please check in out at: http://s2trackers.blogspot.com/Who knows? Maybe someday I'll hear from someone who flew or serviced one or knows more about these planes.
Anyway... There are way too many photos of these aircraft to post here, so I set up a new page just to catalog them and do them justice. Please check in out at: http://s2trackers.blogspot.com/Who knows? Maybe someday I'll hear from someone who flew or serviced one or knows more about these planes.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Home
Lagniappe and I are home. Expect many updates here (and pictures) tomorrow or shortly thereafter. Much to do here tonight already, but most of that stuff is getting put off until tomorrow as well. I'm tired.
I did want to give a shout-out to the fat woman in the Mercury who was jamming up I-95 south of Richmond, VA for several miles by coasting along in the left lane, cell phone glued to her fat melon head, while keeping perfect pace with the slowest truck that she could find in the right lane as the rest of us backed up behind her and fumed/screamed/wished her dead. It was hardly a surprise that when I was able to finally get past her (because the TRUCK finally sped up), I saw that her car's rear had two Obama stickers on it. Apparently she wasn't content with just helping screw our country up, her entitlement attitude seems to have extended to also wrecking the schedules of anyone who was actually trying to get somewhere on I-95 up today.
The next machine gun I buy will have an adapter to allow it to be mounted on and fired from my vehicle, just because of inconsiderate boobs like this one.
I did want to give a shout-out to the fat woman in the Mercury who was jamming up I-95 south of Richmond, VA for several miles by coasting along in the left lane, cell phone glued to her fat melon head, while keeping perfect pace with the slowest truck that she could find in the right lane as the rest of us backed up behind her and fumed/screamed/wished her dead. It was hardly a surprise that when I was able to finally get past her (because the TRUCK finally sped up), I saw that her car's rear had two Obama stickers on it. Apparently she wasn't content with just helping screw our country up, her entitlement attitude seems to have extended to also wrecking the schedules of anyone who was actually trying to get somewhere on I-95 up today.
The next machine gun I buy will have an adapter to allow it to be mounted on and fired from my vehicle, just because of inconsiderate boobs like this one.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
It took 13 years, but Justice was served in Texas
It took a while, but there's finally closure in the case of the cowardly cop-killer, Kenneth Mosley.
HUNTSVILLE, Texas – In the end, Sheila Moore decided to witness the execution of her husband's killer – just in case, she said, he wanted to ask for forgiveness.When the lowest of the low in our society murders one of our finest, there really can be only one response from society. It's good to see that the courts in Texas understand this concept. It's also good to see the law-enforcement community standing together with the family of Officer Moore throughout this long and traumatizing saga. That says a lot about the law enforcement culture and the concept of the police "family". Kudos also to the Dallas News for not giving us a sob story about this cretin like these losers from Scotland who set up a pro-Mosley website and a fund to make Mosley's prison stay more comfortable. I've enjoyed e-mailing them and rubbing their noses in the fact that their little pet caged monster has finally been put down. Feel free to join me. :-)
He didn't, and at 6:16 p.m. Thursday, Kenneth Mosley was pronounced dead, the first person executed in the state this year and the 448th since 1982, when Texas began using lethal injections.
Mosley was convicted of fatally shooting Garland police Officer Michael "David" Moore during a failed bank robbery on Feb. 15, 1997.
"While earthly justice was served, it does not change what happened almost 13 years ago," his widow said in a statement read by her brother about 15 minutes after Mosley died.
"There will always be an empty place in our hearts for our husband, father and friend. We pray for healing for everyone involved."
Moore had been hesitant about the death penalty since Mosley was convicted and given the punishment.
Yet, when the time came, she stood silently behind Garland Capt. Bill Cortez and watched as the state executed the 51-year-old Mesquite man.
When Mosley was asked if he wanted to make a statement to the people gathered to witness his death, he shook his head and mouthed the word, "No."
He never looked at the dozen or so people standing behind a transparent screen, a few feet from his face.
Wearing black-framed glasses and with his arms and chest strapped to a gurney, Mosley remained silent and kept his eyes mostly closed as he seemed to wait for the drugs to take effect. It took less than 15 minutes.
Moore's three children also made the trip but did not witness the execution.
The youngest, Zachary, was 9 months old when his father died at the age of 32. Moore wanted her son, now 13, to be part of the police vigil outside the prison walls so he would have a memory related to his father.
"At least he'll have that," she said before the family traveled to Huntsville.
The last time Mosley confronted the Moore family was at his trial in November 1997. He had lashed out at them in an expletive-filled rant during the punishment phase of his trial.
From the witness stand, he also chastised the jury for finding him guilty of capital murder.
Mosley, who shot Moore five times, said that the shooting was accidental and that he was simply trying to hand over his gun to the officer. "I never knew that gun had went off," he testified.
"The Moore family, all they wanted is somebody they think slaughtered their loved one to die. All they wanted was a conviction."
Mosley's legal team spent nearly 13 years going through the appeals process. His execution was postponed twice last year.
Shortly before 6 p.m. Thursday, his appeals were declared exhausted, allowing the execution to proceed.
Mosley's last meal, served at 4 p.m., was an assortment of fried foods, including three pieces of chicken, two pork chops, a cheeseburger, 10 pieces of bacon, French fries, okra, green tomatoes and apple cobbler.
He was placed on "death watch" Tuesday, a 72-hour period during which he was monitored every 15 minutes by prison guards.
Prison officials offered a snapshot of Mosley's activities during that period, which included sleeping, reading, pacing his cell and showering.
He saw his last visitor, who was not identified, on Tuesday for a five-hour visit that included lunch.
Cortez said he was surprised that the execution occurred so quietly and with no expression of pain from Mosley.
"It seemed just too easy, too easy of a punishment," the Garland officer said.
Matt Leigeber said his sister, Sheila Moore, and her children have gone through "an emotional roller coaster" waiting for the execution.
They were too emotional to talk Thursday, he said.
"It's been a rough 13 years for everybody involved," Leigeber said.
"We lost a husband, a father and a friend, but also a policeman and a Marine."
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Happy (belated) New Year
Things that I have learned so far this year:
1. Lagniappe does not particularly care for cannon fire.
2. Lagniappe possesses the power to pull me rapidly down a hill when exposed to things that he does not particularly care for.
3. On uneven ground, I am unable to prevent Lagniappe from pulling me rapidly down a hill when he's properly motivated by exposure to things that he does not particularly care for...like cannon fire.
1. Lagniappe does not particularly care for cannon fire.
2. Lagniappe possesses the power to pull me rapidly down a hill when exposed to things that he does not particularly care for.
3. On uneven ground, I am unable to prevent Lagniappe from pulling me rapidly down a hill when he's properly motivated by exposure to things that he does not particularly care for...like cannon fire.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Planes, planes, planes...
While cruising around Florida recently, Lagniappe and I found the Valiant Air Command Warbird Museum in Titusville, Florida. It's a small place in a corner of the airport, not far at all from the Kennedy Space Center. I'd already decided to skip the Space Center because I couldn't see spending $39.00 just to get in the front door and $20.00 extra for any of the tours just so that I could be surrounded by hundreds of tourists and their kids while looking at replica rockets and films. It looks like a great place to bring a kid who is into that sort of thing, but it just wasn't for this guy and his dog so I decided on the warbird museum as an alternate activity.
Wow--did I make a great choice. This place was fantastic.
They have a small museum area with modela and momorabilia, and they have aircraft...quite a few real "been there, done that" aircraft, many of which are still flyable and all of which you can walk right up and touch. And dammit--I touched 'em all. Usually I get thrown out of museums for touching the exhibits but in this case, I was encouraged, especially once they found out that I was a pilot.
Museums like this always make me a bit melancholy as much as I enjoy them because as much as I love the chance to duck under the wing of an F-4 Phantom or peer into the intakes of an F-14 Tomcat, it's sad to think that the world will never see another one fly again. I've seen these birds in flight before and I've felt the thunder of their exhausts and smelled the burnt jet fuel as they've roared close overhead. Now they're all retired an no more will ever fly; they've gone the way of the Dodo bird and the SR-71 and they'll only fly in videos now. It's not like the relatively simple WW2 planes, some of which still exist in private hands. No one was ever allowed to buy a flight-capable F-14 and few could ever afford to maintain and operate one even if they had one. It's kind of depressing to see these aircraft sitting as if they're just waiting on pilots and ground crews with start carts only to realize that these machines that once soared through the skies at supersonic speeds or fought as instruments of foreign policy for our country will never leave the ground again. Airplanes are supposed to fly, especially machines like these, and these--like those in every other aviation museum across the country--have seen their last day aloft in their element.
But better to see them here than have them scrapped or destroyed as target drones. At least here, people like me can wander among them and touch them and imagine--or remember--what it used to be like when they flew. Ah, if only they could talk and tell their stories.
But this museum actually has someone who can talk and tell stories.
Almost as interesting as the aircraft is volunteer guide John Kirk. This fellow is a pilot himself, starting out with Britain's Royal Air Force just after World War Two. He has over 22,000 flying hours in everything from the British Meteor jet fighter to the helicopters that he flew all over the Middle East and Africa in in his port-military life and his personal stories and photos were the highlight of the visit.
So if you're down near Titusville, Florida, and if you like aircraft or just want to hear some good stories, pop into this museum and spend an hour or two. Tell them Lagniappe and I sent you.
And yes, when I get back home, there will be pictures posted.
EDITED: I'm home, and here they are:
Here we have a Cessna O-2A Observation plane used as a Forward Air Control aircraft in Vietnam. Behind it to the right is a Tight Moth biplane that still flies, and behind it to the left is an F-86 Sabre jet that also still flies. Behind that one is a B-25 Mitchell bomber, and guess what--it flies. Starting to see what I like about this place?
Next we have a Grumman TBM Avenger Torpedo Bomber like the one that George Bush Sr. flew in World War Two.
This one will be back in flying condition shortly.
The F-14 Tomcat. Sadly, this one will never fly again, nor will any of it's type. But it's still a thing to behold.
The Chance-Vought A-7 Corsair II Attack aircraft.
And Chance-Vought's lesser-known but still impressive F-8 Crusader.
A blast from the past: McDonnell Douglass F-101 Voodoo fighter, with the smaller North American T-2 Buckeye trainer alongside it.
This Voodoo is in great shape. She still has her engines and I gotta think that if we just had a start-cart and no one was looking...And the Buckeye's ailerons were flapping free in the breeze and squeaking like a rusty gate hinge. It's as if this one wants to fly some more, too.
And for Ed Rasimus, three shots of the F-105 Thunderchief. And Ed, I love these old warriors, too. They sure gave the Communists in North Vietnam hell when pilots like you flew them.
And last but not least, my favorite--the venerable F-4 Phantom, undergoing restoration. Just touching it was worth the price of admission.
Wow--did I make a great choice. This place was fantastic.
They have a small museum area with modela and momorabilia, and they have aircraft...quite a few real "been there, done that" aircraft, many of which are still flyable and all of which you can walk right up and touch. And dammit--I touched 'em all. Usually I get thrown out of museums for touching the exhibits but in this case, I was encouraged, especially once they found out that I was a pilot.
Museums like this always make me a bit melancholy as much as I enjoy them because as much as I love the chance to duck under the wing of an F-4 Phantom or peer into the intakes of an F-14 Tomcat, it's sad to think that the world will never see another one fly again. I've seen these birds in flight before and I've felt the thunder of their exhausts and smelled the burnt jet fuel as they've roared close overhead. Now they're all retired an no more will ever fly; they've gone the way of the Dodo bird and the SR-71 and they'll only fly in videos now. It's not like the relatively simple WW2 planes, some of which still exist in private hands. No one was ever allowed to buy a flight-capable F-14 and few could ever afford to maintain and operate one even if they had one. It's kind of depressing to see these aircraft sitting as if they're just waiting on pilots and ground crews with start carts only to realize that these machines that once soared through the skies at supersonic speeds or fought as instruments of foreign policy for our country will never leave the ground again. Airplanes are supposed to fly, especially machines like these, and these--like those in every other aviation museum across the country--have seen their last day aloft in their element.
But better to see them here than have them scrapped or destroyed as target drones. At least here, people like me can wander among them and touch them and imagine--or remember--what it used to be like when they flew. Ah, if only they could talk and tell their stories.
But this museum actually has someone who can talk and tell stories.
Almost as interesting as the aircraft is volunteer guide John Kirk. This fellow is a pilot himself, starting out with Britain's Royal Air Force just after World War Two. He has over 22,000 flying hours in everything from the British Meteor jet fighter to the helicopters that he flew all over the Middle East and Africa in in his port-military life and his personal stories and photos were the highlight of the visit.
So if you're down near Titusville, Florida, and if you like aircraft or just want to hear some good stories, pop into this museum and spend an hour or two. Tell them Lagniappe and I sent you.
And yes, when I get back home, there will be pictures posted.
EDITED: I'm home, and here they are:
Here we have a Cessna O-2A Observation plane used as a Forward Air Control aircraft in Vietnam. Behind it to the right is a Tight Moth biplane that still flies, and behind it to the left is an F-86 Sabre jet that also still flies. Behind that one is a B-25 Mitchell bomber, and guess what--it flies. Starting to see what I like about this place?
Next we have a Grumman TBM Avenger Torpedo Bomber like the one that George Bush Sr. flew in World War Two.
This one will be back in flying condition shortly.
The F-14 Tomcat. Sadly, this one will never fly again, nor will any of it's type. But it's still a thing to behold.
The Chance-Vought A-7 Corsair II Attack aircraft.
And Chance-Vought's lesser-known but still impressive F-8 Crusader.
A blast from the past: McDonnell Douglass F-101 Voodoo fighter, with the smaller North American T-2 Buckeye trainer alongside it.
This Voodoo is in great shape. She still has her engines and I gotta think that if we just had a start-cart and no one was looking...And the Buckeye's ailerons were flapping free in the breeze and squeaking like a rusty gate hinge. It's as if this one wants to fly some more, too.
And for Ed Rasimus, three shots of the F-105 Thunderchief. And Ed, I love these old warriors, too. They sure gave the Communists in North Vietnam hell when pilots like you flew them.
And last but not least, my favorite--the venerable F-4 Phantom, undergoing restoration. Just touching it was worth the price of admission.
Worst hotel experience ever...and I didn't even get to the room.
So last week, Lagniappe and I decided to grab a hotel room in Daytona Beach, just to get a night out of the camper van.
Because the LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic advertised itself as pet-friendly, I pulled in there to ask about their room rate. The desk clerk, a little fellow from India or Pakistan, gave me a quote and I told him that I thought that it was a bit much and thanked him. As I turned to walk out, he shouted out that he'd reduce it by twenty dollars. I told him that that sounded ok and I asked about their pet policy. He said that there was an additional twenty-five dollar charge for dogs over fifty pounds. Well that killed it again, because Lagniappe is a solid hundred pounds, and I told the guy so. He thought for a second and said that for me, he'd waive the dog fee entirely.
Considering that the guest parking area was nearly empty, I could understand his willingness to do almost anything to get an actual paying customer to stay so I told him that I'd take the room at the quoted rate and with no dog fee. I gave him my credit card and other information and he gave me a room key and a pre-authorization for my credit card that specified the original rate, not the agreed-upon one. When I pointed that out, he smiled and said not to worry, the rate that he quoted me was the one that would be charged to my card in the morning.
Well I wasn't born yesterday, and somehow I doubted that this little fellow would be around in the morning when I checked out and got hit for the standard rate so I told him that I wanted something in writing, even if it was hand-written, spelling out what the rate would be. He wouldn't do it and kept trying to deflect my request, telling me that it'd all be charged correctly in the morning. Finally I told him that I wanted something in writing spelling out the rate before I'd leave the office. He stopped smiling and replied that if I was going to be a problem, he was going to charge me for the dog, too. Well that was it for me. I tossed him the room key and told him to just give me my paperwork containing my credit card information back. I was done dealing with him and wasn't staying here.
Now it escalated. He said that he was going to call the manager. I told him that I really didn't care who he called after I got my credit card information back but I wanted it back and I wanted it now. But the little weasel just grabbed the paperwork up off of his counter and ran back into a little alcove behind the desk, jabbering into the phone that he needed whoever he was talking to to come to the lobby quickly because "there's a guy here causing a problem!"
Now I hadn't so much as raised my voice, much less said or done anything that could even remotely cause alarm in a normal person, so his reaction wasn't warranted. His was the reaction of a cowardly man who knows that he's guilty of something and basically confirmed my suspicion that he had been trying to play shady with me and now he wanted back-up.
In less than a minute, another Indian/Pakistani fellow showed up, identified himself as the manager, and did his best to convince me that it was all a misunderstanding. But I'd already made up my mind to leave and I told him so, agian requesting my information back. He wanted to know why I wanted to leave and what he could do to change my mind, and I told him bluntly that I was offended by his clerk and that having caught his clerk acting in what I believed to be a dishonest manner, I did not trust his clerk to process my credit card nor did I want him to even have the card number.
At this point, the manager took the pre-authorization sheet and wrote "canceled" on it--without signing it--and told me that he was sorry and that I was all set. I told him that I wanted an actual printout of the cancelation and my credit card information back, and he told me that his writing "canceled" on the pre-authorization was sufficient. I told him that it was not at all sufficient, especially since he hadn't signed it, and I asked for his name. He told me that he was "Kirit". I asked for his last name and he said that I didn't need that because he was the manager. I asked him why he would not give me his last name and he repeated that I did not need it. He also refused to identify his clerk by name, telling me that I did not need to know that. Of course neither of them were wearing any sort of name tag. I let them know that I intended to send a complaint letter to LaQuinta's corporate offices and again demanded their names. This just caused them to launch into an animated discussion between themselves in whatever foreign language that both were fluent in, even though I was standing right there just across the counter. I told them to speak English since they were obviously talking about me, and Kirit turned to me and told me that they were having a private conversation so I needed to mind my own business.
Having had more than enough of these two cllowns, I told them that I was calling the police to report a theft of my credit card information. Kirit told me to go ahead and call them, acting as if he didn't care. but as soon as I flipped out my phone and began to dial, he stopped jabbering at his clerk, raised his hands, and told me "ok, ok...just stop." He then quickly ran through a proper cancellation like I'd asked for five minutes ago and handed it to me.
The fact that these two guys went to so much trouble to avoid running that cancellation tells me that had I left without getting it, I'd doubtless have found my card charged for a room in the next few days and been forced to go through the hassle of contesting it with my bank. They worked way too hard to try to convince me to just trust them and leave without getting this cancellation, and their refusal to even give me their names is pretty telling as well; honest businessmen don't fear letting customers know who they are but the dishonest crave anonymity.
I've since called back there and determined that the manager's name is Kirit Patel. Even to get that, I had to explain to whever answered the phone exactly why I wanted to know it before they'd tell me. Clearly the shadiness surrounding this hotel isn't just limited to Patel and one flunky--it's systemic.
So I'm posting this here to let people who might be in need of a hotel room in Daytona Beach, Florida know that they should avoid LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic Avenue like the plague. The management and staff are the farthest thing from professional or trustworthy and not at all people that I'd ever give a credit card to again. I half expect to see my card number traded in some Pakistani bazaar in the near future, and I can assure you all that if I start to see any unusual activity on that card, Lagniappe and I will be making another trip to Daytona Beach in short order.
The night did end well, however. We found the Super 8 motel at 2992 W International Speedway Blvd and it was cheaper, cleaner, and truly pet-friendly, even to big goofy lugs like Lagniappe. If I ever need a cheap dog-friendly room in Daytona Beach again, this place'll be my only choice.
Because the LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic advertised itself as pet-friendly, I pulled in there to ask about their room rate. The desk clerk, a little fellow from India or Pakistan, gave me a quote and I told him that I thought that it was a bit much and thanked him. As I turned to walk out, he shouted out that he'd reduce it by twenty dollars. I told him that that sounded ok and I asked about their pet policy. He said that there was an additional twenty-five dollar charge for dogs over fifty pounds. Well that killed it again, because Lagniappe is a solid hundred pounds, and I told the guy so. He thought for a second and said that for me, he'd waive the dog fee entirely.
Considering that the guest parking area was nearly empty, I could understand his willingness to do almost anything to get an actual paying customer to stay so I told him that I'd take the room at the quoted rate and with no dog fee. I gave him my credit card and other information and he gave me a room key and a pre-authorization for my credit card that specified the original rate, not the agreed-upon one. When I pointed that out, he smiled and said not to worry, the rate that he quoted me was the one that would be charged to my card in the morning.
Well I wasn't born yesterday, and somehow I doubted that this little fellow would be around in the morning when I checked out and got hit for the standard rate so I told him that I wanted something in writing, even if it was hand-written, spelling out what the rate would be. He wouldn't do it and kept trying to deflect my request, telling me that it'd all be charged correctly in the morning. Finally I told him that I wanted something in writing spelling out the rate before I'd leave the office. He stopped smiling and replied that if I was going to be a problem, he was going to charge me for the dog, too. Well that was it for me. I tossed him the room key and told him to just give me my paperwork containing my credit card information back. I was done dealing with him and wasn't staying here.
Now it escalated. He said that he was going to call the manager. I told him that I really didn't care who he called after I got my credit card information back but I wanted it back and I wanted it now. But the little weasel just grabbed the paperwork up off of his counter and ran back into a little alcove behind the desk, jabbering into the phone that he needed whoever he was talking to to come to the lobby quickly because "there's a guy here causing a problem!"
Now I hadn't so much as raised my voice, much less said or done anything that could even remotely cause alarm in a normal person, so his reaction wasn't warranted. His was the reaction of a cowardly man who knows that he's guilty of something and basically confirmed my suspicion that he had been trying to play shady with me and now he wanted back-up.
In less than a minute, another Indian/Pakistani fellow showed up, identified himself as the manager, and did his best to convince me that it was all a misunderstanding. But I'd already made up my mind to leave and I told him so, agian requesting my information back. He wanted to know why I wanted to leave and what he could do to change my mind, and I told him bluntly that I was offended by his clerk and that having caught his clerk acting in what I believed to be a dishonest manner, I did not trust his clerk to process my credit card nor did I want him to even have the card number.
At this point, the manager took the pre-authorization sheet and wrote "canceled" on it--without signing it--and told me that he was sorry and that I was all set. I told him that I wanted an actual printout of the cancelation and my credit card information back, and he told me that his writing "canceled" on the pre-authorization was sufficient. I told him that it was not at all sufficient, especially since he hadn't signed it, and I asked for his name. He told me that he was "Kirit". I asked for his last name and he said that I didn't need that because he was the manager. I asked him why he would not give me his last name and he repeated that I did not need it. He also refused to identify his clerk by name, telling me that I did not need to know that. Of course neither of them were wearing any sort of name tag. I let them know that I intended to send a complaint letter to LaQuinta's corporate offices and again demanded their names. This just caused them to launch into an animated discussion between themselves in whatever foreign language that both were fluent in, even though I was standing right there just across the counter. I told them to speak English since they were obviously talking about me, and Kirit turned to me and told me that they were having a private conversation so I needed to mind my own business.
Having had more than enough of these two cllowns, I told them that I was calling the police to report a theft of my credit card information. Kirit told me to go ahead and call them, acting as if he didn't care. but as soon as I flipped out my phone and began to dial, he stopped jabbering at his clerk, raised his hands, and told me "ok, ok...just stop." He then quickly ran through a proper cancellation like I'd asked for five minutes ago and handed it to me.
The fact that these two guys went to so much trouble to avoid running that cancellation tells me that had I left without getting it, I'd doubtless have found my card charged for a room in the next few days and been forced to go through the hassle of contesting it with my bank. They worked way too hard to try to convince me to just trust them and leave without getting this cancellation, and their refusal to even give me their names is pretty telling as well; honest businessmen don't fear letting customers know who they are but the dishonest crave anonymity.
I've since called back there and determined that the manager's name is Kirit Patel. Even to get that, I had to explain to whever answered the phone exactly why I wanted to know it before they'd tell me. Clearly the shadiness surrounding this hotel isn't just limited to Patel and one flunky--it's systemic.
So I'm posting this here to let people who might be in need of a hotel room in Daytona Beach, Florida know that they should avoid LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic Avenue like the plague. The management and staff are the farthest thing from professional or trustworthy and not at all people that I'd ever give a credit card to again. I half expect to see my card number traded in some Pakistani bazaar in the near future, and I can assure you all that if I start to see any unusual activity on that card, Lagniappe and I will be making another trip to Daytona Beach in short order.
The night did end well, however. We found the Super 8 motel at 2992 W International Speedway Blvd and it was cheaper, cleaner, and truly pet-friendly, even to big goofy lugs like Lagniappe. If I ever need a cheap dog-friendly room in Daytona Beach again, this place'll be my only choice.
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