U.F.Os.

The very next person who confronts me with the accusation - "You're an ex military pilot - you MUST have seen UFOs."  is going to be attacked with a baseball bat - preferably one with big nails in the end of it! Unfortunately for me there is one of these "UFO Investigators" living a mere few properties away from mine. Even more unfortunately he recently discovered I'm an ex Air Force pilot. Therefore, according to his tiny fixated little mind I must have seen LOTS of little green , or grey, or even pink with purple polka dot aliens. In his world colour is probably optional but in any case "You MUST have seen things that you were told not to talk about ." (His emphasis - not mine.)


I was stupid enough to attempt to talk rationally with the man and explain that the term U.F.O. stands for Unidentified Flying Object and does not signify the existence, or presence, of a manned extra terrestrial vehicle. An unidentified flying object is just that - an object, apparently airborne, which has not, at the time of observation, been identified. In effect the local seagulls are UFOs - until you have a good look and say to yourself - Ah! bloody seagulls - I hope they don't crap on my washing.


This "Investigator" is a pest of the worse kind, I concede that there are a small number of airborne objects that do not comply with normal investigative procedures and their form and purpose is never clearly defined, however this clown takes the view that any light/ shadow/ unusual phenomena in the sky - or on the ground  - is some sort of alien contrivance. If he hears about it and it's less than a couple of hundred kilometers away he immediately sets forth with all manner of measuring equipment to "prove" that the men from Mars have landed. Equally unfortunately this idiot also has the mistaken belief that I have some secret knowledge that is denied to him and constantly tries to drag me along with him on his wild goose chases. I am seriously considering the purchase of a large vicious dog to discourage him.

It seems to me that this fool, and his faithful disciples, might also be referred to as UFOs - Unconditionally Fixated Obsessives!

Grumpy Old Women

I'm a firm believer in equal rights so it's only fair that, having sounded off about Grumpy Old Men, I now give equal attention to the female of the species; Grumpy Old Women. Women very rarely accept that they are ageing well and often become banshees of the black shawl set,  acid tongued old crones who harangue us with their constant complaining about everything from the useless, broken down, ineffectual man in their life to the price of spuds at the Green Grocer.


Grumpy Old Women may once have been the Belle of the Ball, the  vision of loveliness who took young men's breath away, or even the love of some poor delusioned man's life. But many women do grow sour with age. As their beauty fades and their sight dims it appears their one remaining joy in life is to make everyone feel as miserable as they do.  Their spouse, or partner, if he lingers, never brings home enough money, or is to busy playing golf, or any of the other activities a man pursues to avoid going home. Their children grow distant and disinterested and the grandchildren are just another imposition on their mostly empty life.


So the bitterness , and the resentment grows. They grow bent, and can no longer control the advance of body weight. The once svelte curves, that turned men's heads have finally surrendered to the advance of cellulite, and arthritis, and a multitude of "women's" complaints. They sit on bus stops, and seats in city malls or parks and glare disapprovingly at the antics of the young. It seems that, to them, youth is the ultimate crime. One wonders if their fading memories retain any history of their own past  and the fact that they too were once young. Perhaps, if those memories are still retained, they are ruthlessly suppressed, after all who wants to be reminded of what used to be. Then there is the opposite approach of these Grumpy Old Women - nothing is a good as it used to be and, it follows, no one else is as good as they were themselves. One hears the bitter complaints that - "When I was young  etc, etc." - fill in the blanks for yourself. 


Of course there is the final irony - the Merry Widows - of which there are many sub types. There is the calculating younger woman who carefully chose, and married, a man 10 or 20 years her senior and patiently waited for her time to come. They can be recognised by the brand new outfits purchased with the proceeds of their late husband's estate and their some what desperate attempts to catch a younger man, hopefully to reward them for their years of devoted and slow wearing down of their husbands to ensure the poor man meets his maker before his rightful time. A realisation that by the time they collected they were past their prime brings the whole gambit of bitterness to the fore. This sub type is easily confused with the divorcees who got impatient and bailed out before collection time. Their bitterness is usually accompanied by a string of invectives describing the ex husband, especially if he was smart enough to have an effective pre nuptial agreement in hand. 


The final sub type we will examine is the most fearsome of the lot. The Self Sufficient Woman. This subtype is not always a Grumpy Old Woman but can display a very effective facsimile if it suits her game plan. Self sufficient women are inevitably well groomed, generally look younger than their true chronological age and quite often are well educated. A sure sign is if they have gone back and studied for a Degree or Diploma subsequent to their partner's demise. The self sufficient woman is likely to own her own property, or properties, and is most likely to be financially secure. She knows what she wants, and more importantly what she does not! Gentlemen be warned, the capture of  the self sufficient woman is a task beyond the skills and capabilities of most mere males and has a high probability of backfiring. Be aware of Grumpy's 97th Law of Survival. The female of the species is more lethally dangerous than the male!

Grumpy Old Men!

Curmudgeons, Grumps, Old Farts, call us what you will but we are a fact of life. A young man has an unshakable faith in his invincibility that only the ravishes of time, or perhaps self abuse, can erase. At twenty a young man is in the prime of his condition and is fast approaching the threshold of total maturity, and ultimately manhood. Some acquire that pinnacle in a rush, others with a slower and more considered approach.


Either way each of us, baring fatal accident or disease, will finally reach that point in time called middle age and from there the slide into old age is a fate non of us can escape. One would expect that, with the accumulated wisdom and experience of our years, we would mellow into a knowledgeable old guru who would sit and dispense his wisdom to any who are wise enough to listen. Not bloody likely. The onset of old age brings us reminders of the follies of our own youth in the form of  arthritis, clogged arteries, unclassified pains, stiffness and a growing intolerance for the stupidities of mankind.


For some of us the bitter lessons of relationships gone wrong add further dissatisfaction to the journey of our life. Then there is the "I can still do it" syndrome which often manifests itself in middle age. For some it is black shirts worn unbuttoned over a protruding stomach and often coupled with a profusion of heavy golden jewelery worn like a yoke around the neck. Those of us unaffected by this  syndrome sneer that "so and so is going through a second childhood" and laugh heartily at his childish antics. But we all suffer in one way or another from the mistaken belief that we still have what "it" takes. Significantly none of us are quite sure just what "it" is. I'm a retired pilot and for me the syndrome manifests itself in a passion for flying radio controlled model aircraft. I may not still be up there but my spirit is! - Yeah, right.


What ever the affliction it is inevitably accompanied by an increase in pain and stiffness that makes it difficult to get the body moving when we  get out of bed. So by the time we creak our way to the breakfast table we have already started to build a head of steam. The toast burns or the coffee, which you forgot was there, is to damn cold. Then the morning paper is full of bad news and photos of lithe young bodies doing things with apparent effortless ease. We open the door and the cold blast of freezing morning air nearly blows us off our tottery old feet. Is it any wonder that the first person unfortunate enough to attempt a conversation gets blasted with a stream of vitriol and bad temper? Such is the life of an old curmudgeon.

Bloody Do Gooders

Yeah, that's right bloody mindless interfering Do Gooders. Do Gooders come in all shapes, sizes and genders, they may vary from the grubby little Boy Scout who insists on helping you cross the road to the well meaning but sadly confused Senior Citizen who drives you nuts pressing religious tomes on you at every opportunity.


Many of these ardent activists with the Good Samaritan complex have so buggered up their own lives that they are driven by some internal compulsion to seek atonement through trying to help others. They are, of course, completely blind to the fact that you do not want, and do not need their brand of "help". Among the Do Gooder sub types are churchies and other assorted God botherers, control freaks and those who insist on helping others as a form of domination - you can't do it - you're not capable - here - give it to me.


Then there are the apologists and those driven by a compulsion that continues to inflict self injury on themselves, both physical and psychological. They are usually recognisable by their introduction to the help they offer - they offer help and before it's even accepted start to apologise for their actions. They can also be recognised by the TYPE of help they offer - It is invariably some form of material goods (money, tools, food, what ever). In effect their help is a form of self imposed tithing. The material offered is never returned or replaced and the result of this is often that they continue to complain about how the are always being taken advantage of. For some strange reason it completely escapes their attention that if they simply stopped giving then they would have no grounds to complain.


I am firmly convinced that most Do Gooders are practicing some kind of self punishment, although they get burnt over and over it seems they can't stop helping or trying to help. I have some advice for them. STOP. Get a life and understand that the person who really needs the most help is yourself. Go see a Counsellor or an Analyst or something - find out why you have the compulsion to help. It's OK to offer assistance now and then to someone in real need but not every one wants, or will accept, help so BLOODY WELL STOP TRYING.

Anti Smoking Advertisements

The Anti Smoking Lobby.


I'm a tobacco smoker and have been for more than 50 years. I know it's stupid and I know it doesn't do my health any favours and yes, I know I should give it up. I've tried on several occasions and I've even succeeded a couple of times - for a while. I know it caused my Peripheral Vascular Disease and my Doctor tells me constantly that I'm a prime candidate for  something called COPD - Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. I wheeze, and I cough, and I'm used of my mouth feeling like the bottom of a cocky's cage when I wake up in the morning. You'd think that, being a reasonably lucid and intelligent human being, I'd take the hint and chuck the smokes. I'm trying, and from time to time I even manage to cut down for a while.


I've tried the gum, and the patches, and my Doctor even prescribed some god awful tablets that gave me all sorts of nightmares and flashbacks to places I'd rather not revisit. I've contacted the Anti Smoking Campaigns and they've sent me out their mostly useless literature that makes some appeals to my better nature and my "will power" and provides all sorts of forms and leaflets for me to read and/or fill out. In the long run it makes me wonder if they are really fair dinkum!


I am absolutely fed up with the anti smoking campaign advertisements. They are all highly emotional appeals to give up the habit. We have a small, unbelievably sweet, child telling her father how she played a game and her father SHOULD have been there! The poor bloody bloke is flat on his back and breathing oxygen through a tube. Just the sort of thing to make you feel better! All the rest of the adds are along the same theme. Smoking is a burden on your loved ones and you should be a good boy, or girl and give it up.


This is undoubtedly true BUT the anti smoking campaigns appear to forget one very important fact. SMOKING IS ADDICTIVE AND MOST SMOKERS WOULD LIKE TO GIVE IT UP. They spend millions of tax payers money on these adds and go around patting themselves self righteously on the back. BIG BLOODY DEAL. I wonder if perhaps the money would be better spent on a bit of honest research into EFFECTIVE ways to give up nicotine addiction. I can't help wondering if the amount of tax the government collects off tobacco doesn't in some way influence just how effective these anti smoking campaigns can be!

POLITICIANS:

Yeah, bloody Politicians. I don't know about you but on my personal "Trust Me" scale politicians rate somewhere down there with used  car salesmen, lawyers and other con men, and the local card sharp. I don't care what you call them, they 're all tared with the same brush, chuck one lot out and put the other lot in and what do you get? The bloody same old same old. They can call themselves what ever they like - Liberal, Labour, Democrat, Conservative, Communist, Green, Tory, Republican, what ever.


There is much debate over the ethics of cloning. Come on, the bloody politicians have been doing it for years. They all quack the same party line of their particular alignment and there is not one original thought among the lot of them. One side stands up and quotes the party line as prescribed by their faceless backers and power brokers. Then the other side gets up and does the same damn thing for their lot. One side gets up and goes quack, quack, quack, then the other side gets up and does the opposite quack, quack, quack, then they go and form a committee to examine the problem or bill or what ever. While this is going on they all retire to the members bar and draw straws to see who will quack on next. 


No matter what the proposal one side will get up, and ignoring all the negative aspects, will praise it to the heavens and sing it's praises loudly. Then the other side will get up and, no matter what it's strengths and good points might be, condemn it to hell and pronounce it the devils work. Until of course it comes time to vote on new perks and benefits for those hard working, dedicated, selfless politicians they all reckon they are. Yeah - right. The proposal get voted through with no, or very few dissenters. I'm even cynical enough to suspect they take it in turns to be the good guy or girl.


I'm a pensioner and on occasion I've written to my local member on behalf of other pensioners who have a problem, that problem is usually a minor one and could be sorted out by someone easily if they would only get off their arse. Usual result? Not a murmur, not a bloody sausage, the only thing you can be sure of is that you will be deafened by the silence. Until of course it comes round to election time. Suddenly you have to fight the buggers of like a plague of locusts. Last election I was finally moved to place a rude notice on my door directing politicians and/or their lackeys to "F...K OFF" I'm not normally that crude but they seem to wait round the bloody corner till it's time for you to cook tea, have a shower or a sh*t and then come knocking. I wish I had a big bad tempered dog. How would a dog know a politician? Dare I say by the scent of self interest, political perks and indifference to their constituents.


Having said all that I must admit that occasionally, just occasionally, an honest man or women stands for election. If elected there are a number of things that can happen. They can stand as an independent, or join a party and soon become so disillusioned they either leave the party or never stand for election again, or tragically, the system grasps them in it's vice like grip and turns them into another one of those grey faced quacking clones.


Ten Quotes for Politicians:-


All of us who are concerned for peace and triumph of reason and justice must be keenly aware how small an influence reason and honest good will exert upon events in the political field. 
 ~Albert Einstein


Under democracy one party always devotes its chief energies to trying to prove that the other party is unfit to rule - and both commonly succeed, and are right.  
~H.L. Mencken, 1956


Politicians are the same all over.  They promise to build a bridge even where they is no river.  
~Nikita Khrushchev


Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy.  
~Ernest Benn


Politicians are people who, when they see light at the end of the tunnel, go out and buy some more tunnel. 
 ~John Quinton


Politics is the gentle art of getting votes from the poor and campaign funds from the rich, by promising to protect each from the other.  
~Oscar Ameringer


Mankind will never see an end of trouble until... lovers of wisdom come to hold political power, or the holders of power... become lovers of wisdom.  
~Plato, The Republic


Some men change their party for the sake of their principles; others their principles for the sake of their party. 
 ~Winston Churchill


Politics is supposed to be the second-oldest profession.  I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.  
~Ronald Reagan


Politics, n:  [Poly "many" + tics "blood-sucking parasites"]  
~Larry Hardiman

Everything is to bloody expensive!

Everything is to bloody expensive. Petrol is to bloody expensive, so is beer, and meat, and service for a motor vehicle and, just about any thing you can imagine is also to bloody expensive. Our retailers, while bleating about their profit margins and how hard it is to bring customers into their shops, persist in marking everything up by between fifty and two hundred percent. I've got news for you Mr bloody Retailer, don't try to suck the poor bloody shopper dry all the time and we might come back into your shops.


Perhaps if Mr Retailer didn't spend so much on advertising, or even made the adverts a bit more honest his overheads may not be so high. I am so bloody sick of having some loud mouthed son of a bitch yelling at me from the television set about "bargains" that aren't bargains, "discounts" that aren't discounts and "sales" that aren't sales I'm about ready to put a boot through the TV.


Then there is all the Hire Purchase offers - Buy now, pay later - No payments till next bloody millennium - Cheap interest - No interest - BULLSHIT!! I find it strange that all these offers are accompanied by exhortations to  GET IT NOW - DON'T MISS OUT - THIS WEEKEND ONLY - SPECIAL 24 HOUR SALE.  - ONCE ONLY SALE! Yeah right, funny that it seems to be the same every bloody weekend and if you are dumb enough to take on one of these offers you end up paying twice the value of the item and you get hooked into paying for it one drip at a time for the rest of your life!


Then there is the matter of quality, or more exactly lack of it. These days it seems every  thing is made in bloody China. The instruction manuals are written in "Chinglish" and I defy any one to understand what the manual is talking about. To make matters worse, if the thing breaks down and you want it repaired or replaced under the Guarantee - yeah - right - GOOD LUCK. Then there is that mythical thing called AFTER SALES (LIP?) SERVICE.


 I recently had to buy a new washing machine, the type that seems to be universal now, all bells and whistles and programs. I plugged it in, pressed all the buttons according to the manual (I think - you guessed it - Chinglish) and absolutely nothing bloody happened. I stared at it, it stared back but refused to go. SO - ring up the shop, ask for some advice, I even had the salesman's name, the sales docket and date of purchase all ready to give them. Not bloody likely - if you have blah, blah, blah press 1. If you have yackety yack press 2 and so on. After about ten minutes dangling on the phone I finally got transferred to some bloody call centre where who ever took my call couldn't even speak understandable bloody English.


Retailers - get honest - get real, stop the bullshit, and you might get some customers back.