Commotion in the Pews

I had no idea that I’d gone a month and a half between posts. Very unusual for me, but I have had a lot on my plate the last few months, and time seemed to slip away.

This is a catch-up post. Nothing huge, just proof that I’m still alive.

First, the fence is done. 909 linear feat of post and cattle wire done completely without the aid of power tools with the exception of a battery drill used to screw the corner pieces together and a couple of gates. Every hole dug by hand. Every post (about 150 of them) cut with a hand saw when needed, and all of them lugged from a central pile to their locations spread out over three acres. Wire? I hauled one by hand (rolled it down the driveway, actually) and the other two by wheelbarrow. Concrete? Well, two tons (actually a bit more)  hauled on my shoulders to the locations around the yard, again from a central supply point. And, finally, somewhere around 2000 staples applied by hand and pounded in with a hammer. The math on hammer blows is too hard, but it was a lot of work, and I went through 2 pairs of heavy gloves, working on a third.

But the fence looks really good, and I’m very proud of the work. I did it over the summer (had to wait on supplies, cash, and time to work it) but got it all done. Lots of hot days in the sun to finish it, but it is professional grade. 

What else… I have trained for and completed another ruck march last week. 13.1 miles over mildly hilly Minnesota terrain near Brainerd carrying a 44 pound pack. Not all of it made it back to the finish line, as I drank about 8 pounds of the water/energy drink I was carrying as I walked. My good friend Frank was with me on the march. We’ve been together doing stupid stuff since 1986 in Rota, Spain. He was my sponsor when I arrived and it turned out our parents knew each other. He lives in Saint Paul, and we have done countless half-marathons and ruck marches over the many years. 

I think that will be my last one until I lose another 40 pounds. It’s just too danged hard to lug all that weight long distances, and I’m getting old. Just ask the guys timing the race. We finished, and did it without blisters, but it was a slog.

Audio book work continues. I took a couple of months off to do fence/training for the race, but have one in progress, two in the wings, and another 4 when I get to them. I’m not running out of projects anytime soon.

The wife and dogs are all well, and life in SW Florida is quite good. It’s raining like crazy today, but that’s needed for my plantain trees!

Now, back to the audio book. It’s not going to record itself. 

One final thought: Epstein didn’t kill himself, and I demand to see that client list.

There is an entire field of study devoted to studying what is left behind by humans in their trash dumps: Archeology. In my universe it might be reflected by the more modern term of garbology.

Either way, it works out like this: cheap washing machines, microwaves, worn tires, and general trash litter the roads throughout our nation. You get used to seeing some of them and write off the vermin that pitch stuff out of the back of their truck as hopeless members of the swine community. 

For the past two years, I have been walking the roads around my house in Florida on a regular basis. You get to to the point where you are familiar with all the spots the farm workers (I live near several industrial-sized farms) throw their crap out of the windows as they zoom home, or back from dinner. Wrappers and beer cans all over one road in particular.

This past week I noticed a trend in the trash: no longer was Nodelo the favored can on the top layer of trash.

Now, I have to say, that Nodelo is on sale around this area all the time, and was without a doubt the cheapest cerveza you can buy in most liquor stores. Speaking from my experience as a beer drinker, when its 95 degrees, sunny, and the end of a long day, even a mediocre beer (or five) is a darned fine thing. You ain’t sippin’ cognac to cool off as you blast down the dirt road next to the swamp on the way home from the farm.

However, as a practiced garbologist, it became abundantly clear to me that something major had changed in the past two months. Nodelo is virtually absent (as are other brands) on the road itself, and exists only on the shoulders of the road where all older trash migrates.

Nope, the new champion beer of choice for thirsty farm workers is Spud Light. Yes, almost all of the cans flattened by vehicles on my route are now Spud Light.

Is this because the population from Guatemala, El Salvador, Mexico, and Venezuela is the rock upon which the LGBTQIA+%& movement is based?

Again, no. You see, the retailers around here are giving the crap away because they can’t sell it. You won’t find a cheaper beer in this area than Spud Light. Over the most recent holiday weekend, you could buy a big box of it for $15 and mail in a proof of purchase to get a voucher for $15. Your beer is free if you just wait a while for the coupon to arrive.

Free beer, as any sailor can tell you, is the best beer. Dullan Mulveigny does not impact the sale of crappy beer to thirsty people with no money. They don’t care. But the retailers certainly do, and they can’t unload it fast enough to make shelf space for the next brand to push into it’s place.

Interestingly, Nodelo is now the top of the heap for sales, having taken Spud Light to the cleaners. I delight in the pushback on Transheiser Bush pushing their viewpoint out there and getting clobbered. They didn’t appreciate their market, and when they decided to change it, they skipped out into the middle of the minefield and then did belly flops to see what would happen. It wasn’t pretty.

I’ll keep you posted if this changes, but for the moment it’s nothing but blue cans on my walking route.

[Note: I purposely chose my images and didnt spell things correctly to avoid any major corporations having a problem with me.]