4fraziers.com

Archive for November, 2009

Here we go again.

JibJab has gone and produced a parody of my all-time favorite Christmas movie.

Here it is, starring Brandt as Ralphie, Kelli as Randy, Diane as the kid who got double-dawg-dared into sticking her toungue on a frozen flag pole, Robin as Mom and yours truly as the lovable grumpy old fart, AKA “The Ol’ Man”.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

And remember not to shoot your eye out.

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And here’s another one: The 4Fraziers (plus my grandson Jade) starring in “AChristmas Carol”

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This is wicked cool! The Shop Savvy app uses the Motorola Droid camera to read bar codes, then gives you the results of a comprehensive web search showing an image of the product you just scanned the bar code for, best prices found both on the web and in stores near your location, and gives you the option of setting it to notify you if the price drops below a threshold of your choosing.

For example, today I went shopping for a new SATA hard drive. I found a variety of them at Frys. In less than a minute I scanned five different models in the capacity range I needed with my Droid and found the best buy. There was one store 14 miles away that had the same drive for 4 bucks less…not worth the drive.

I bought the drive and left, confident that I got the best possible deal without spending more in money and fuel driving to other stores to comparison shop. The web stores all came up with the same or higher pricing, which didn’t include shipping.

I used my Droid and Shop Savvy several days ago to get a great deal at Frys on a 42″ plazma TV for Robin’s birthday…cheaper than any other local store. I just showed the results to the sales guy and he started knocking the price down. Before I knew it I had a 42″ 1080p Plazma Panasonic for $699.00 that was currently on sale at Best Buy for $849.00 and retailed for $1,099.00.

The app also returns links to any product reviews it finds for the scanned item as well.

I did get some funny looks from the sales nerds at Frys as I scanned the items…apparently they aren’t very familiar with technology, or they think only store employees should be scanning bar codes.

Recently several of my neighbors reported seeing one or more coyotes in our neighborhood. Amid the emails and conversations, a champion or two stood up to defend the poor canines from the rest of us who were busily sharpening our pitchforks and lighting our torches.

The defenders of the coyotes threw themselves valiantly in front of the mob of vigilantes whose collective blood-lust I’d been earnestly stoking. They told us how we are destroying all our wildlife and the poor coyotes aren’t hurting anyone. Shamed and humiliated, the crowd dispersed after forming a single file line and tossing their torches and pitchforks onto a growing bonfire before they trudged off to their houses with their heads hung low.

I was unrepentant.

I love most critters, and track deer only to take a photo, not to shoot (but I have no problem at all with folks who do shoot them…sometimes they need shootin’ because they get to be a nuisance, too; but I’m currently writing to justify a blood-thirsty rampage against the miscreants that are always plotting murder and mayhem against the roadrunner).

Coyotes are waaay over-populated in this region and the more there are; the scarcer their food becomes; the more risks they take to go after pets and garbage. When they show up in our yards it is a clear sign there’s either something mentally/physically askew with them or they are growing desperate from too much competition.

The current coyote over-population in our area is the reason we no longer have a sustainable population of gray fox, bobcat, and several other competing predators. Nobody trapped or shot those predators out of existence in our area, they all got eaten and out-competed by the sheer number of coyotes that we weren’t trapping or shooting. Coyotes are quickly consuming the rabbit population and now Red-Tailed Hawks, just a few years ago overly abundant in this area, are becoming scarce because rabbit is their primary food source.

I’d love to see a few foxes or bobcats now and then, but they’re pretty much gone, replaced by tons of coyotes.

I’m not advocating we all go out hunting the little buggers (the torch and pitchfork part was made up by my over-active and plagiarist imagination). I just don’t think the “wildlife advocates” think these things through before they start telling everyone else to let the deer and coyotes continue to roam free and live in herds and packs until there’s one running out in front of my bike and your car every 100 yards each night.

There’s really no danger of the coyote becoming extinct or even endangered, no matter how many we might trap and remove from our neighborhood. They have the tenacity, cleverness, and breeding habits of the rat, and we’ve been strenuously trying to eradicate those for tens of thousands of years to no avail.

I don’t want to see a coyote unless I’m purposefully looking for it via a rifle scope. They aren’t cute in my front yard, like the ducks that used to hang out and build nests in the hedges there…before the coyotes started showing up.

Seen any ducks down at the lake lately? Nope.

Coyotes love duck, which are much slower on the hoof than roadrunners.

Fo’ real?

It’s a concept bike from those wacky Bavarians who got kicked out of the air plane engine business ’cause they sold their awesome flying pistons to the losing side. They turned their attentions to motorcycles, and eventually cars and both had some wildly unique and successful engine designs.

Those boxer motors have always been a little strange, but they performed and stayed reliable no matter how much you demanded of them. And they made a lot of sense if you just got by the whirring of the timing chain and finely meshed gears and considered the perfect balance those opposing pistons lying on their sides at the lowest possible point created as they pumped back and forth.

Now they’ve decided to cram six cylinders, in-line, not longways, but SIDEWAYS into the frame of a bike.

It doesn’t have quite the torque rating of…guess what?…the Triumph Rocket III, and it certainly ain’t no cruiser. But it’s up there in the category of “something else” amongst what can only be termed “super sport bike” and it definitely out-torques lots of other bikes. But how wide is she? Can she fit through the bathroom door? No wind guards necessary. The front of your shins will be nicely baked by the six inches of engine case poking out on either side just in front of your epidermis. Sprinkle on some seasoned salt and have a few pork rinds peeled off your shins after a long hot ride.

But think of the advantage you’ll have if you ever ride this beast on a tight rope. No balance pole required, we have 60 lbs of engine hanging out on each side to keep us on the thin tight line.

I envision the pain and suffering of Jaguar XKE owners back in 1973 when they bought those V12s that had tiny little pistons set in tiny little cylinders so they could fit 12 of them under the bonnet of a tiny sports car. It ran finer than a frog’s hair split three ways and sanded…until it broke. Which was usually in a matter of days or weeks.

Things got so bad that many Jag aficionados would buy a new XKE and send it straight from the dealership to the shop to have the V12 replaced with a souped up Chevy 327. Those V12s had to be made slender. The rods, the crankshaft, the walls between the cylinders, all thinned down to make everything fit. Kinda like this in line six from BMW looks.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea or that BMW shouldn’t try out something new and different, I’m just saying that history wasn’t kind in the past to folks who designed two rows of six cylinders to fit in a tight space. This just looks like one side of that.

But, Jag didn’t have cool stuff like titanium and tungsten and carbon fiber back then. Maybe the thin parts will be plenty stout enough this time. It looks pretty cool, but it wasn’t as fun as I expected when I first heard about it. A 1600cc in-line six formed in my imagination looked something like a Dodge Tomahawk on weight-watchers, sliced down and ready to slice a clean narrow hole in the wind. This thing looks like a delicate symphony of dancing parts choreographed with precision…the kind of precision that just explodes into a pile of crap the first time something slips a millimetre out of place or a chunk of sand manages to blow past the air filter.

Triumph is the only Motorcycle company that’s given us anything truly unique in a long time. Before that it was Yamaha with the world changing VMax. The HD VRod was an interesting diversion among the Harley-Davidson model line, but it wasn’t something new and fresh in the general motorcycle development world. Yet VRods are still the coolest looking bikes on the planet. Some bikes look cool while their riders look like dorks, but a Harley V-Rod will transform the fatest, wartiest, most toothless nerd or Walmart Greeter in the country into Mr. and Ms. Kewl the moment they swing a leg over it. It might not be a perfect mechanical design or the fastet, maybe it doesn’t deserve to have the word “rod” in it’s name, but it is a Harley, by gum, and it is the coolest looking vtwin chassis on the planet. I sure wouldn’t turn my nose up at one if I had the extra cash.

Hey, why can’t any of us ever write an article without talking about H-D? Back to the topic at hand:

So perhaps it’s BMW’s turn again. Maybe this thing will really kick butt. After all, people said Mr. Honda was nuts when he had his engineers cram an in-line four into a bike frame sideways, and his company went on to rule the world. Now they sell horizontally opposed six cylinders in all their Gold Wings…did I hear some long dead BMW engineer roll over in his grave just then?

Okay, BMW, put this thing on film and lets see if it’s fo’ real. And if it doesn’t work, twist the engine 90 degrees, make the cylinders an inch wider, spread ‘em out by another half inch each, put a giant fatty Metzler on the rear, and go forth and conquer.

Uh, forward controls, please. Don’t encourage the squids.

The vast majority of those who see my new Motorola Droid have asked this question:

“Is it better than the iPhone?” or, in the case of FaceBook shorthand commentary: “droid>iphone?”

Unfortunately, I have no idea. I’ve never used an iPhone. Matter of fact, I’ve never touched an iPhone. It’s not available through Verizon, and I’ve been married to Verizon (a very tumultuous and rocky relationship) for several years now. Since my service provider couldn’t carry the iPhone, I haven’t paid a lot of attention to it.

But when the buzz started over at Engadget about the new Motorola Droid from Verizon my ears perked up. I was at the end of my latest two-year contract, and it was time to unload the Blackberry 8830 World Edition since the folks at the office had decided to stop letting me expense my personal phone and BB email service and instead provided me with a corporate owned Blackberry.

This brilliant maneuver accomplished three things:
1. It increased the amount the company had to spend each month on keeping me electronically tethered.
2. It caused me to have to carry two devices where only one was needed before.
3. Instead of me purchasing a single device at my own expense and splitting the service bill between myself and the company, now the company and I both had to buy a device.

Good job, corporate Vogons! Once again, you made the right decision to ensure EVERYBODY, including you, loses.

So that’s why I now carry a Blackberry Curve from Sprint on one hip and a Motorola Droid from Verizon on the other. I couldn’t look more like a management wanna-be nerd.

I’m loving the Droid so far. Especially the Google navigation feature that has just eliminated the $600 expenditure I was going to execute for a Garmin to use on the motorcycle. This morning I just popped the free nav app up on the Droid and slid the device into the tank bag map holder. It flawlessly guided me on the most up-to-date route to work, way out-pacing the accuracy and speed of my built-in Navteq system in the Magnum.

Once I got to the office, I connected my stereo headphones and launched Pandora on the Droid. My favorite music, in each of my favorite genres, all for free. Then I used it to look at the local radar just by launching the free radar app. Since it already knows my location, it always automatically displays the current weather radar for my location.

And there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of other free apps out there for the Droid, or any Google Android OS device.

The touch screen is intuitive and easy to use, even if you have short stubby fingers like me. I’m also one of those folks scientist have identified with the highly technical term of “secreter”. That gross-sounding condition means that I exude a bit more oil and sweat from my overall epidermis. Typically, that makes touch screen devices pretty much a hassle, because my fingerprint end up being layered smudges all over the screen by the end of the day. The Droid seems unaffected by this so far, and the strong back-lighting makes fingerprints and smears a non-issue.

Even if it does become and issue, there’s always the tactile keyboard under the screen. Sliding the screen over and turning the device to the horizontal position automatically re-orients the screen and you are in full type and click mode.

Is it an iPhone killer? I don’t know. But it sure beats the snot out of any smart phone I’ve ever used before.

I repositioned my new highway pegs this afternoon and decided to go for a quick spin to test them out.

Just a mile or two down the road and back, no need for helmet or jacket, right?

I hopped on sans helmet, sans jacket and cruised down the road. I was gone no more than ten minutes. It was just a tiny fraction more fun to be riding with the wind blowing my hair and hearing the full growl of the in-line triple and the whir of the timing chain. But then…

As I approached the intersection to turn onto my street I came upon this scene…about 500 feet from my house:

There but for the grace of God go I. Even though I was stupid and wasn’t wearing my helmet, that guy was wearing his, apparently; one of the paramedics is practically sitting on two helmets in the picture.

After looking at the high-def version of the photos I took, there’s a tire bruise on the curb behind the bike. It appears this rider failed to negotiate the turn, possibly because he jumped in front of traffic and gunned it, but didn’t get leaned over. The mirrors on the bike are folded up and forward, indicating he went straight over the handlebars and slammed into the fence. Hopefully the guy standing with the bike is an uninjured passenger.

I said a quick prayer for the dude on the ground.

I can’t say I’m surprised. It was a follower of Islam. Not a radical Islamist, just one that believes what his religion tells him.

Hey, George W. Bush, Barack Hussein Obama, and all the rest of you dumbasses out there who keep telling us Islam is a religion of peace that’s been hi-jacked by radicals:

THIS IS WHAT THE KORAN TELLS THEM TO DO.

They aren’t radicals, they are simply people who believe and do what the Koran says. It’s not a peaceful religion. It’s a religion of murder, vengeance, atrocity, and pure evil. It tells its followers to give others one opportunity to convert to Islam, and if they refuse: to KILL them.

Our soldiers have been massacred on their own home base because our idiot leaders are so politically correct and such whores for votes they are willing to tolerate the enemy sleeping in the same barracks and dining in the same mess halls as our loyal American soldiers. How many times do Muslim soldiers serving in the United States military get to kill our brothers and sisters before someone wakes up and realizes that this religion is anathema to our military and it’s purpose?

George W. Bush, I voted for you, but you proved yourself a liar the first day you referred to Islam as a religion of peace.

Barrack Hussein Obama, you have one of those names.

Stop telling people how good Islam is. You don’t have to tell us how evil it is if you don’t want to. Anyone with half a brain can see how evil Islam is. We might all make some headway in winning the war on terror if Barrack and George weren’t telling their moron constituents we’re only fighting a few “radicals” and all the rest are harmless…leading honest folk to walk unarmed around these bloodthirsty demonic Alah worshipers.

And before you post comments here telling me what a bigot I am, make sure you’ve read the Koran. It says what I stated above, plain and simple. Of course, don’t let a devout Muslim catch you with an English version…because that would be offensive to them and they’d try to saw your head off for it. I’ve read it…demonic, evil tripe written by a murderous lunatic, and the source of most of the world’s war, poverty, and human atrocity today.

This morning I had a meeting in downtown Dallas, and I had to provide limo service (Dodge Magnum RT style) to a couple of client execs. So I shined up the station wagon last night and poor BB stayed in the stable as I piloted the cage to the office.

Around noon, after the meeting and an early lunch, I rolled into the driveway at the house. As I walked in the front door Robin looked up and said, “Hey, what are you doing home so early?”

“Just came home to get the motorcycle,” I replied.

“Oh. Okay. Well, see you this evening.”

“Okay, Love you. Bye.” I said as I was exiting the back into the garage where my beloved BB waited.

“Love you, too, bye.” She replied.

A month or so ago Robin would have rolled her eyes and said, “That’s silly, driving all the way home just to ride the bike back to work.”

But now she either understands or has just resigned herself to the fact that I consider an opportunity to ride no different than a compulsion and necessity to ride. I don’t invent excuses to ride. The absence of a serious obstacle in space and time to riding is reason enough to do whatever it takes to ride.

Isn’t that really the difference between a biker and a weekend warrior?

At the moment BB is happily standing alongside her American daycare friends (two Harley-Davidsons) in the parking garage waiting for the whistle to blow so we can return to the pavement.

Sure.

Just as soon as someone gives all the dogs he drowned, beat, electrocuted, and hanged to death a second chance.

That was my response to a few booger-picking morons on FaceBook a while back when Vick first made his victorious return to the National Football league. I haven’t watched a game since…not even the Cowboys.

I’ve been accused of being unforgiving. I’ve had people toss the “but you claim to be a Christian” phrase at me. My response? How can you claim to be a Christian yet defend this man who did some of the most evil things imaginable to poor dumb animals? I don’t have to forgive him; he didn’t drown, beat, or electrocute me. I’m fighting for the memory of those dogs, and that requires doing my best to keep Vick from having a comfy football star life.

And it requires me to not contribute any patronage to the NFL, an organization that is so interested in profit they are willing to allow employment of a dog torturer. What a shame that other players have to put up with his stink in their profession.

Vick served his time. True. That does not mean that it’s right and proper to give him a job in a national past time. Why isn’t he doing like any other ex-con? Proving himself in a fast food joint or filling pot holes? Not that that isn’t honest to goodness labor (I’ve done both those jobs myself).

Remember Pete Rose? Kicked out of major league baseball, banned for life for gambling. He may have deserved a second chance.

Michael Vick? He deserves to earn a meal or two each day and have a roof over his head, nothing more. And he ought to earn both by shovelling dog crap out of kennels at a rescue shelter…under close supervision.

All you sodding cartoon characters who think he deserves a second chance need to go think real long and hard about exactly what it would feel like to have jumper cables attached to the sides of your head, be submerged in water, and then have a few thousand volts juiced through your brain as your body convulses in spasms and expires. That’s just one of the methods the dirt bag you got a second chance for used to kill those dogs.

Like I said…find a way to give those poor dogs a second chance first.

Thanks to my buddy Jim for reminding me of this by forwarding this article about why some of us just aren’t going to “let it go”.

And God bless our friends at rescue organizations like Donna Reynolds, Tim Racer, and BADRAP who have no intentions of letting the world forget.