Meanwhile At The Library

I had some research I wanted to do for a project. Working online is fine, but in many cases somewhat limiting.

Yes, the Internet has limits of utility.

Write that down.

Too many times I find partial articles, blurry pictures, and advertisements for the books I wish to look into for information.

I seriously doubt I'll use Wikipedia as a source other than general information to get me started.

Having said that, today I'm here at the Benjamin L. Hooks Central Library here in town. It is a first class facility with all the things I need.



It has an extensive collection of books and periodicals. It is bright and airy. It has a large, knowledgeable staff. It has nice clean facilities, and it has WiFi. I find it a peaceful place this morning.

Presently I'm researching some old ships. To that end, I'm making a reading list of the books available here and system wide. I don't need to know the precise history of every ship, but I want the information I use to be extremely accurate down to the last detail.

A quiet, bright, airy place that has WiFi is just the ticket for historical research.

The nicest thing about this place? It is a just a few minutes drive from Downtown.

Things have been a bit busy of late, so I'm just getting back on track with the project. I've temporarily shelved an older project for the time being. It is not that it isn't important, it's just too much to work on with the approaching Spring, a March visitor, condo projects, and my attempting to wind down from the "Air Traffic Mike World Tour 2009-2010".

I'm in the mood for some serious down time.

Today's highlight?

I'm making a slow cooked corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes for dinner. I'm serving it with NPR, some classical music, and a cold beer or two.

Guess what?

I'm really excited about that.

Tonight, others can go bark at the Friday moon.

I'm going to belch to the classics.

In the meantime, back to the files.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Meanwhile At The Memphis City Council

It was really interesting going to a committee meeting this morning.

To say it was crowded was like saying the Titanic had buoyancy issues.

It was mobbed.

Council members, media, and a whole host of concerned citizens.

At issue? Two ordinances. One that would regulate areas where passive panhandling could take place, the other regulating the sale of single cans of beer by grocery stores near the core of downtown Memphis.

I live in the core. I walk the streets almost daily. I have few reasons to drive for many things seeing as how most of my shopping needs are met here.

I can't tell you how many times I've been panhandled.

The passive panhandlers are not an issue, per se. They are the ones that ask for money and leave folks alone if the answer is "No.". Unfortunately they are few and far in between.

The ones that aren't are the prime focus of the ordinance. They are the ones, who I and others see almost daily, haranguing people. They follow people, get up in their face trying to intimidate them. Sometimes they grab ahold of their targets.

Oh, and they have their scams too. Some have pretended to be legitimate parking attendants, selling parking spots on lots when the "honor box" is in use. Some tell visitors that "Downtown ain't safe." and offer to escort their prey to their car or destination restaurant. Of course they demand to be paid for their service upon arrival. A few will rip up public/private landscaping and offer their "flowers" to the ladies. Once again they demand payment. When they don't get paid, most get nasty.

Their ilk are a parasite on society.

The ordinance is in response to their aberrant behavior.

So is the second. Most of their daily take goes to getting drunk during their "work" shift. The "2x4" seems to be the lunch of choice near Court Square and easily obtained at a few nearby stores.

Want to meet some of these fine, upstanding citizens and read their dossiers? Click here, join the group, and read up.

One grocery store owner complained that the loss of single sales would take away 40% of his sales.

I shop at his grocery store. He must be selling the shit off the back loading dock.

Every time I'm in there, I see mostly groceries being sold.

Then again, if he lowered his beer prices he'd probably sell six packs like the bigger stores do. All his statement tells me is that he openly admits he's preying on these people and is, in fact, part of the problem.

Guess I'll do some single beer comparison shopping so I can bust him on that at the next Council meeting. I have another hunch about the pricing conducted in these businesses regarding beer, but I am definitely have to do some research on the Tennessee wholesale pricing regulations before I put that out here.

All in all it was quite an experience. I'm pretty sure the City Council Committee was taken back by the crowd. I'm also pretty sure they had best use a larger conference room for the first hearing. The Fire Marshall would NOT have been amused at the body per square foot ratio.

My hat's off to my good friends Paul Ryburn and Mike King for all their hard work over the last few years. All they have ever wanted is Memphis to be a better place for its citizens and visitors. They have at times placed themselves in harm's way to stop people from being scammed or worse.

Both of them have been threatened many times, yet they persevere. They've enlisted the help of downtown businesses, residents, civic groups, vendors, and friends. We filled up the majority of the room.

There will be more to follow and I'll be happy to report on it.

In the meantime, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

So Here I Am.......

Live at the Bardog Tavern.

Great food, great drinks, great people.

This place gets an "Air Traffic Mike" A+!!!!

I love living in downtown Memphis. I hope to God all my friends love their neighborhoods too.

It's hard to beat downtown Memphis.

Really hard.

When Chris gets here she'll see.

I can't wait to show her.

BTW.....

Guys?

There's a good chance "ATM" might not be a solo entity much longer.....

:)

Halfway Home.....

Good morning from lovely Bristol by the Interstate.

Eight hours of driving down, eight hours of driving to go.

Last night's prediction of snow was slightly off.

Predicting snow in Tennessee is like predicting the flight of a well thrown knuckle ball.

You know something is coming, you just don't know where it's going to land.

Snow "gloom and doom" was the prevailing prediction on the local news forecasts.

It was mostly flurries here.


This was what southwest Virginia's previous snow fall looked like.


This is what this last night's snow fall looked like.

Sort of pales in comparison.

Today's travel entails Splitty and myself driving all but the last block and a half of the state of Tennessee. If we land in the Mississippi River, we will have gone too far.

Time to grab a shower, one more Diet Coke, and pack up the overnight bag.

Next stop Memphis.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Now Leaving New Jersey..........

I was persuaded to spend one more night in New Jersey.

An offer to go out to dinner with an old friend and the desire to spend some more time with my oldest brother Kevin made the decision a very simple one for me.

I thought, "No problem, that's what hotels are for." as I was sorting out my gear on the farm Friday.

I started my day by packing up the AirTrafficMobile and bidding adieu to Doc's wife Lisa. Doc and Team Lloyd were up very early, on their way to a sporting/hunting show in central Pennsylvania.


Leaving "Obisquahassit" (shown here on Thursday morning) behind, I set out for a good South Jersey breakfast.

Southerners tend to think they have cornered the market on the use of corn meal at breakfast. Grits, cornbread, and corn muffins are all dandy uses of the stuff.

Up here we use it for all sorts of stuff like making the bottom of a pizza crust crispy and keep Italian bread from sticking to the pan. Both are noble uses.

However, to find it's highest calling, you have to look no further than the staple that has sent many a Philly area man, woman, and child out into the world ready to take it on than the most humble of all pork products.


That of course would be scrapple.

For those keeping score at home, the scrapple is the stuff that's not the two "over hard" eggs.

Scrapple is made from what's left over of the pig after making sausage. It's the last meat stage in the processing of pork. The only other stage is the one where lard is rendered prior to the disposal of the unused bones, carcass, and squeal.

The pieces/parts are boiled off, ground, seasoned with lots of herbs and black pepper, thickened using cornmeal, and cut into blocks.

It's very easy to cook. Some like to dry fry it in Teflon pans, but it is best cooked in a cast iron skillet using bacon grease.

Low on the food chain, high in flavor.

What's not to love about that?

Having been properly nourished, I set out to kill some time awaiting check in at the hotel.

I went out to the cemetery to visit my Mom's and brother Gary's graves. Normally that would be a Sunday thing, but in light of the schedule I went out a day early.

Next I took a trip over to Delaware Park. It's a thoroughbred race track part of the year and a year round OTB site and slot machine parlor.

The final score?

Delaware Park: $200.00
Air Traffic Mike: $0.00

It did take quite a while for me to lose it so I don't feel too bad about the whole matter.


I did get this picture of the paddock area as a parting gift.

I highly recommend Delaware Park in racing season. It really is a splendid facility with terrific food, outdoor picnic facilities, and even a playground for the children.

Remember, just like my Grandmom used to say, "The family that bets together, gets together.".

We took Mom Mom to the track with us on more than one occasion. Her Dad used to take her when she was a small child. She loved watching the nags run.

I checked into the hotel about 3:00 pm, brushed my teeth, and rested for a bit. My dinner guest wouldn't be done work until later in the day.

After a bit I sauntered down to the lobby bar for a celebratory "Last Night In Jersey" drink.

I suddenly realized I could get used to the idea of living in hotels if I ever hit the Powerball lottery. It would sort of be like living in a nursing home, except you pay for services rendered immediately and the chance of getting bed sores is probably remote.

My friend and I went out and had a splendid meal at a local restaurant. It wasn't too bad of a wait considering it was the de facto "Valentine's Day" being the Saturday night before. Besides, Kev was running late after work so the time wasn't too big of a deal.

We stopped by Kev's so he could show us his pictures from Haiti. He took nearly 700 in the eight days there. The conditions were primitive at best, the destruction worse than you can imagine, and the workload sometimes overwhelming.

He loved every second of it.

It was sobering to see the destruction, particularly where the death tolls were spray painted on the different buildings. Seeing children and adults with newly amputated limbs was disturbing as well.

One day they sent a small team up to an orphanage to tend to the children there. Kev went with them. The only shelter they had for the children was a large tarp strung up from a couple trees and some poles.

I'll post that picture here as soon as Kev gets it to me.

It'll be a gentle reminder to those that think they know what a bad day really is.

While we were at Kev's, one of his cats came close to cashing in one of her lives.

It's really a good thing for her I'm a good sport about stuff.

"Pickles" jumping up on the desk, blocking the computer screen. She's a notorious attention hog. Me, being a cat lover, picked "Pickles" up off the desk and set her in map for some good old fashioned "Scratch The Kitty". She was all happy and purring.

Then it happened.

The unthinkable.


"Pickles" started to "cut a biscuit" on my jeans.

I've been hit with my share of bird dirt in my life.

I've stepped in dog poop a time or two, even once while bare foot.

"Cat Taking a Dump" on my lap was quite unexpected.

Especially when the cat was purring as I tossed her off my lap.

I was pissed.

Then I looked back at Kev's computer screen at the orphans.

A little fresh cat scat sort of paled in comparison to "I just lost my entire family".

I went to the bathroom and cleaned it up as best I could, the photographic results of which I posted above.

My date and I said our good nights to Kev and called it an evening.

This morning I'll check out of my hotel room and hit the road.

Maybe an update tomorrow, if not I'll update the blog upon my arrival in the "Bluff City".

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Comin' Home

Well the snow finally stopped falling, the lane finally stopped drifting over, and I'm as homesick as a six year old on the first day of Summer camp.

Memphis, I'm coming home.

It's been some journey over the last ten months. Watching my older brother slip away from us, chainsawing and heavy lifting, fishing, meeting hundreds of new people, reacquainting with old friends, pain, sorrow, agony, victory.

Oh yeah, and one less deer in the state of Virginia.

To the gang down in Memphis, I'll miss "Sunday Fun Day", I might miss "Pint Night", but I'll sure as Hell make team trivia on Tuesday.

I've missed you guys and gals.

On a personal note my oldest brother and the Delaware rescue Team returned safely from Haiti yesterday. Due to the weather, I won't see Kev until this evening.

He gets the blog space here tomorrow. Expect lots of pictures and stories.

After that, the "Air Traffic Mike World Tour 2009-2010" winds up in Memphis for a bit.

For my friends in New Jersey here who I didn't get to see, fret not. I will be returning in May on a big round trip roadtrip complete with a ton of pictures, Splitty the Maul, and a special guest.

For a change it won't be an inanimate object or a fictitious dead animal character.

So then, I'm off to continue packing and run some errands.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air traffic Mike, ret.

So Just How Much Snow Fell?

We knew this was going to be a big storm. We just weren't sure how big.

You never know what a "Nor'easter" is going to do come Winter here on the East Coast. Sometimes they run over and out like a freight train, sometimes they creep along like your 90 year old Aunt shopping at Walmart.

The good thing about being on the farm is that there are quite a few resources to draw on. Seeing as how the weathermen on television have mediocre track records, we went with what we had available. We put our top farm meteorologist on it right away.

We broke out the cat.


Wally did the traditional Lenni Lenape "Cat on Head Dance Of The Estimated Snowfall".

He came back with an estimate warning of the coming Ice Age.

Dad always said, "Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.". That's what we did.

Once again, Doc had Team Lloyd cover the tractor in anticipation of the approaching storm.


Here's the tractor Tuesday at dusk.


Here's the tractor last night at dusk.

The wind was howling. It takes a fast wind to make wet snow drift.

How fast was it?


We had to use "Sero" as a draft guard on the back door.


Not being large enough to stop anything, "Mini D" was worried his next stop was the fireplace.

For the record, no pets were harmed in the production of this blog.

I got up this morning, and this is how it looked out the bedroom window.


Those boxwoods at the base of the trees are more than a century old and over six feet high.

Shortly, we'll begin the digging out process here.

Hopefully the township will dig out the road coming in soon. My oldest brother returns from Haiti this afternoon.

Imagine his surprise.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Cabin Fever.....

It's all fun and games until you use a pet as a hat.


Now THIS is a guy who needs some SERIOUS outdoor time...

My Keep Warm Blog

It's snowing/sleeting/freezing raining.

This ain't the tropics I assure you.


I just took this picture at 9:10 am.

For some strange reason I found myself thinking of "Robby the Robot" from the old television series, "Lost In Space".

I loved that show, especially when they used "Robby" for comic relief.


You don't have to watch all of this clip, but fast forward to the 3:35 portion of the clip.

"Robby" is supposed to be performing a part in a play with Dr. Smith, complete with costume. They don't show the set up. I wish they did. "Robby" is dressed as a girl and delivers the lines in a hilarious falsetto voice. "Please, please don't throw me out." he pleads with the villain played by Mr. Smith. Mr Smith's character replies evilly, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't."

"Robby" drops back down into his regular voice and hammers the punchline.

As a kid I always loved that scene.

It's a cold Winter's day, no doubt. Soon........very soon, I'll be back fishing.

That means Doc and I hitting the warm waters off Florida.

Me hitting the beach at Grand Isle, LA.

Me fishing the back waters off the Mississippi River from a kayak.

Me fishing the surf on the Outer Banks.

Doc and I fishing the lower Delaware River/Delaware Bay.

A return trip in August to Grand Isle, LA for a midweek fishing/crabbing trip.

Maybe even a road trip to northwest Arkansas/southwest Missouri for some bass fishing.

Ambitious? Not really. This year I'm going to fish as much as my heart and budget can stand. I'll keep one of my poles here at the farm. I have a pole stored at my late brother's house in Nags Head. My treat to myself is to get two new poles for my home base in Memphis.

The "Air Traffic Mike World Fishing Tour 2010" commences the last week in March.

It's going to be warm/hot.

My hands will reek of bait and fish, both fresh water and salt water.

I'm predicting at least six times where I hook myself.

There's a good chance I'll lose in excess of $100 worth of tackle.

I'm already planning on eight different states to fish in.

International waters are not off the menu.

I'm debating whether to make it individual blogs or one big retrospective blog.

Miles travelled will measure in the thousands.

The right seat of my truck is open should anyone like to tag along.

Splitty the Maul will go fishing for the first time.

Catching a fish using a maul may be a fishing first.


Splitty is psyched.

Enjoy the Winter day God gave us today.

Warm weather will soon return.

So will fishing.

Doc, Splitty, and I will be ready.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Meanwhile, Back On The Farm....

Well, that was quite a storm over the weekend.



It left the farm pretty well covered. Due to the open expanses of farm fields, it also left some mighty big drifts.

"Pretty well covered" + "Mighty big drifts" = Huge clean up.


The first thing we needed to clean up was the tractor/front end loader.

Quentin and I got out into the drifts and began pulling the tarp.


Wally supported the effort by performing the traditional Lenni Lenape "Cat On Head Snow Removal Dance".


Sadly, when Wally got outside he'd found the Gods were not appeased.


Meanwhile, Q and I had cleared the tractor.

Doc got to work.




Pretty soon he had cleared the driveway at the main house.

In a move that stunned both of our insurers, he asked me if I wanted to take the tractor down and dig out the AirTrafficMobile. I figured it would be fun. Besides, Splitty the Maul had spent the night in the car watching the snow fall.

Mauls dig watching it snow.

I took the tractor down and got to work. It didn't take long and remarkably, I didn't tear anything up.

Splitty wanted a "Victory" picture taken using "SplittyCam".

I hopped aboard the tractor.

Splitty told me to get off. He wanted a picture of his newest, bestest friend, "Shovey the Snow Plow".

Hey, it's HIS camera.


Shovey struck a pose.

Later on, Doc and Shovey took a ride to the neighbor's house and dug him out.


Doc/Shovey making their approach to a five foot high snow drift....


Doc/Shovey: 1
Five foot high snow drift: 0

Shortly thereafter, the job was done.

We retreated to the house to watch the Super Bowl.

I predicted the Saints winning the game 31-27 over the Colts.

Wally begged to differ. He is a big Peyton Manning fan. He had the Colts winning the game.

Hey, Peyton Manning is a great athelete. He's a New Orleans kid.

Still, I told Wally the Saints would prevail.


Wally donned the cat once again and performed the traditional Lenni Lenape "Cat On Head Dance of Winning Score" to ensure Indianapolis' success.

The Gods were not appeased.

Saints: 31
Colts: 17

Wally's only comment was, "I'm going have to get a new cat."

Yesterday we finished the snow removal by clearing out Pat's Mom's driveway.

Having completed that, we returned to the farm.

Doc thought it was a good day for lasagna. I agreed.

Q had other plans.

He had spotted a nice plump pheasant out the back windows. With Dad's blessing and oversight, he took his gun, tracked the bird and.....



Q cleaned the bird, I did the honors of breasting it out.


Q shows off his soon to be dinner.

Q showed Wally what he had done. Wally said he'd like something different than lasagna for dinner, too.

About an hour later, Q eyed up another pheasant out the back window.

Wally donned the cat....


...and did the traditional Lenni Lenape "Cat On Head It's Either Pheasant Or This Cat For Dinner" dance.


Even the Gods didn't want to see Uncle Mike have to clean a cat for dinner.


For the record, Wally nailed the bird with a head shot.

That's great shooting.

Due to inclement weather approaching, I'll be staying in South Jersey for a few more days.

Who knows what those boys will shoot next?

Some have "Magic Eight Balls"........

Some go to fortune tellers....

Some read tea leaves..........

Some would rather not know.....


We have Wally and the cat.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Snowed In's Snow Problem

Okay, that's a bad pun.

Then again, most puns really are bad.

As you saw in the previous blog, we were pretty well snowed in for the day.

No reason to start shoving the stuff around when it's still falling. That just means you have to move it twice.

With no work scheduled, everybody set out to enjoy a relaxing day. Doc's family took the time to read, play on the computer, and get out in the snow to play. I got on my laptop, answered some emails, played some online poker, and did some light research for a personal project. I was in the middle of a tourney on Full Tilt Poker when Doc came out of the basement armed with various meats.

Doc loaded with meats means only one thing. We would be donning our chef's toques.

Team Lloyd had been hunting recently and had bagged a nice parcel of South Jersey duck. Roasted duck on a cold Winter's day makes for a fine meal. Especially when prepared properly.

The day's kitchen staff, Doc and I, major in proper preperation.

So how to cook these fine birds? We ran through the options avaialble to us.

Bake them?

Nah, too mundane.

Roast them?

Too similar to baking.

Deep fry them?

Go ahead, deep fry a duck sometime and let me know how that works out for you.

After passing up most of the mental checklist, Doc turned and said, "I've got it.".

He walked out of the kitchen, returning with a long steel spit.

It was time to start dinner.


Doc placed the ducks on the spit and expertly trussed them with kitchen twine.


My first job would be to season the duck while Doc got the rest of the rig set up for cooking.

Now here's where we parted ways with modern cooking techniques.

You probably thought we were headed out to the stainless steel grill. It was an option, but not a good one seeing as how it was under more than a foot of snow.

We went old school.

Really old school.

Henry VIII and older, old school.


Rotisserie duck cooked in front of a black walnut wood fire.

Okay, it IS an electric rotisserie. One or two anachronisms are tolerable when cooking "old school" especially when it comes to safety and convenience.

Our entree was set for the afternon. Doc's wife Lisa went off to read. Doc, the boys, and I decided we'd play for the "Team Pinball Championship of the World(So Far As We Know)".

By qualifying the title with "(So Far As We Know)" we indemnified ourselves from any lawsuits arising from any real team pinball championship contests.


Our attorney, Splitty the Maul, Esq. assured us we were legally in the clear.

For the record, "Team Dad/Uncle Mike" are still the reigning champions.


Doc's ducks continued to cook.

Soon it was time to cook the side dishes.

I took to the stove.

Rotisserie duck called for some hearty side dishes.

Doc and I consulted on the sides.


How does charred onion/sundried tomato risotto along with penne pasta and cheese sound on a cold day?


The ducks just off the spit.

Dinner was served.

On a lighter note after dinner, Doc came upon the opportunity to set a World's Record.

I was sitting at the far end of the dining room table checking my email on my laptop. Now when I say "far end", I really mean far end. This behemoth seats ten adults.

Doc decided I needed a Girl Scout peanut butter cookie. He tosses it full length. It slides to a stop with half the cookie hanging off the edge.

As any kid knows, that's a touchdown in paper football.

I immediately threw both arms in the air signalling "Touchdown" on the cookie.

Doc would have the opportunity to attempt the "World's Indoor Girl Scout Cookie Extra Point Kick".

I ate the touchdown cookie, thereby creating a new football tradition, while Doc got out another cookie and limbered up his kicking finger.

With the laptop folded, and my arms raised for the uprights, Doc launched the kick.

It was high enough.

It HAD the distance.


Sadly it was wide right, coming to a stop on the widowsill behind me.

It almost landed in my glass of Merlot.

That would have been a new record in it's own right.

Yesterday was a pretty relaxing day.

Today we remove snow.

Time for me to get dressed and booted up.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Got Snow?

We sure do.

Lots of it here, more on the way.

Over on Facebook an old college friend and all around good guy named Keith asked for some pictures of the white stuff.

A Yankee living in south Texas doesn't get to see many snowstorms through the year.

So then, for Keith and all my Northeast ex-patriots, here are some shots taken around 8:15 am of today's weather here in balmy South Jersey.

Grab a glass of mulled wine, toss your toes up on the ottoman, and enjoy.






Nothing says, "Snow Removal" like a four wheel drive tractor with the front end loader attachment. Nothing says, "preplanning" like placing a 16x30 foot tarp over that tractor pror to the snow starting.






I'm sure this isn't the cardinals in Spring Training.


"Mini D" suddenly realized that following Air Traffic Mike out into the storm might not have been his best idea.


Just a reminder to the younger folks that "drifting" didn't start out being an automotive sport.


The drifting has left a convenient dog run.


Standing strong after 340 years.

More pictures later in the day.

Wherever you folks are, all ya'll take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.