Guns and Nudity

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Warning: This blog entry contains a light hearted discussion of nudity, a subject that many people find offensive. If you are offended by nudity, discussions of nudity, or waffles, you may not want to continue reading.
However, if you like nudity, or at least discussions of nudity, or just want to find out what bizarre and off the wall things I have to say, then by all means continue reading.
And if you are hoping for some naughty pictures, this is as racy as it is going to get.

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In the town in which I live, it is perfectly legal to walk down the main road (or any other road for that matter) armed to the teeth and - as long as the weaponry is within the range of acceptability (i.e. no military-grade weapons) and nothing is concealed (unless a concealed weapons permit is issued) - no law enforcement officer, governmental official, or other may impede your orderly perambulation down the municipal thoroughfare.

But if you were to walk down the same road with your Johnson (or Johnsonette) exposed, you will be stopped, and probably arrested for indecent exposure (or lewd conduct).

And you will wind up on the registered sex offender list.

Now the question I have is this: How many people are injured or killed each year in this country by firearms? According to the CDC: 31,672.

How many people where injured or killed by a Johnson?

The CDC website has no data on that. Presumably, there were none.

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.       ~U.S.Constitution, Second Amendment

Thanks to the Second Amendment of the Constitution, the right to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed, which means you are within you rights to walk down the road with a .357 on your hip, a 9mm in your shoulder holster, and a .30-06 across your back while holding a 12 gauge shotgun in your hand along with enough ammo to hold of a battalion of Al-Qaeda terrorists.

The police may stop you (and one would hope they would) but as long as you are not wanted for anything, after chatting with the policemen (plural - if you are armed, there will be more than one officer stopping you) you are free to continue on down the road.

Unless you are naked at the time, then you are going to jail.

Nudity, it seems, has little protection under the law

[Gen 2:25] And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.

In addition to us, the Naked Mole Rat
was created furless. Genesis also does
not explain this.

For reasons that are not explained in Genesis (or anywhere else in the Bible), God created us naked. And not just naked, but buck naked. Mammals, which our information tells us were the last group of animals the Lord created, all received fur - except for us. All we got was some hair, predominantly on our heads and on our.. well, you know - down there.

And then women go and shave off what little fur the Lord did give them.. well, you know, down there.

I could probably do an entire blog entry on why women do things.

I could do an entire blog on why women do things.

But I digress.

[Gen 3:6-7] she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked;

You ever had this happen to you? You are sitting in your living room, eating a piece of fruit, and suddenly realize that your not wearing any clothes?

[Gen 3:7] and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.

I asked this in a previous blog entry: Where did the sewing kits come from?

[Gen 3:10-11] And Adam said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. And God said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat?

"Eve, we shouldn't have eaten the fruit."

[Gen 3:21] Unto Adam also and to his wife did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them.

And from this point on, anyone naked in public was subject to arrest.

Did you know there was a streaker in the bible?

The "streaker" is an unidentified figure mentioned briefly in the Gospel of Mark, immediately after the arrest of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and the fleeing of all his disciples:

And there followed him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young men laid hold on him: And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked. [Mark 14:51-52]

Although the young man is unidentified, many biblical scholars speculate that the streaker was none other than St. Mark himself, as the parallel accounts in the other canonical Gospels make no mention of this incident.

Lady Godiva was an 11th-century Anglo-Saxon noblewoman who, according to legend rode naked through the streets of Coventry in order to gain a remission of the oppressive taxation imposed by her husband on his tenants. She is one of the earliest historical "nude" protesters.

Many of you (women) no doubt recognize the name Godiva as the manufacturer of premium chocolates. I'm not sure how Lady Godiva became associated with chocolate, as (historically) she would never have tasted chocolate. The company website provided no information on the origin of the name.

The name sort of implies a connection (of which I am unaware) between chocolate and nudity. Maybe it is something like the forbidden fruit: you are sitting in your living room, eating a piece of Godiva Chocolate, and suddenly realize that your not wearing any clothes.

If one of you chocolate-loving women could enlighten me on this, it would be much appreciated. And possible the subject of a future blog entry.

The name "Peeping Tom" for a voyeur (FYI) originates from this legend.The Earl of Coventry ordered everyone to stay indoors while Godiva made her ride, but a man named Tom peeked and watched her ride. In some versions of the legend he was struck blind.

Perhaps Lady G wasn't all that. 

You may have noticed that I
am mostly discussing nudity.

That is because nudity is

more fun to discuss!

In modern times, numerous protesters have taken to the streets in the all together to protest a variety of issues.

And nothing gets peoples attention better than nudity.

In Chicago, shortly after the first troops were deployed to the Gulf, a group of ladies decided to protest the war. This is not unusual, as there were many people who decided to protest the war. What was unusual was what they were wearing (or not wearing, depending on your perspective.)

The were only wearing body paint.

So the police arrived, but not for the reasons you would think. The members of Chicago PD only came to warn the protesters to (please) keep the protest on the sidewalks, as protesting in the street was interfering with the orderly flow of traffic - we can probably safely assume that the protesters were protesting during rush hour as to maximize there message.

Paint, apparently, at least in the Windy City, is considered clothing as it pertains to the laws governing nudity and lewd behaviour.

And I suppose that if Lady Godiva had been there, the Chi-Town constables would have only reminded her to clean-up after her horse.

While doing research for this blog entry,
I learned that there is an actual airline that
caters to nudists.

Speaking of Chicago, did you know that the unofficial streaking record is 1852 miles. That's right, miles.

What does this got to do with Chicago?

Because 1852 miles the distance (in air miles) from Chicago to San Francisco.

Let me explain:

Back in 1980, Abigail Fitch a resident of San Francisco received notice from her great uncle's lawyers that he had died and, being his sole living relative, could she come to Chicago in order to settle his estate. As the request came with air fare, Abigail agreed.

At the very least, a free trip to the Windy City.

She knew her great uncle was well-off, but not how much. She was expecting a settlement of maybe a few thousand dollars, but when she met with the lawyers she was informed that the settlement was for a few million dollars. $19 million, more or less, which in 1980 was quite a bit of  money.

 It still is today.

I've heard two versions of the story regarding her return to "the City by the Bay." One is that she chartered the 1st class section of a commercial flight, the other is she chartered a private jet. But in both versions of the story, Abigail boarded the plane and promptly removed her clothing, and flew to San Francisco au naturel, being served champagne and macadamia nuts by a steward names Eric who probably still tells the story to this day. 

As soon they landed, Abigail put her clothes back on and disembarked.

And my guess is that she hired a taxi, drove to her place of employment, and tendered her resignation.

Which brings us to California:

In 1983, Sheila MacPherson, a resident of Santa Mira CA, was sunbathing in her back yard when police arrived and issued her a citation. Whereas sunbathing was legal, Sheila was doing it in the altogether, which was altogether a violation of the cities nudity ordinance.

One of the neighbors must have called, no doubt. There is always one...

But instead of paying the fine, she decided to fight it in court.

Despite being caught sans vêtements, Sheila pled "not guilty" to the charge against her.

Her lawyer then requested that the court dismiss charges against Ms MacPherson, claiming that she could not have violated the ordinance. He pointed out that the ordinance didn't specifically prohibit being naked in public, it prohibited "the public display of genitalia."

Same thing right?

Not exactly.

Sheila's lawyer brought in evidence, a medical book or something (Grey's Anatomy?) which explained in medical terms (accompanied by illustrations) that a woman's genitals are internal, not external, and therefore it would have been physiologically impossible for Ms. MacPherson to have violated the city's ordinance.

The judge agreed, and the charges against her were dropped.

If I ever get arrested, this is the lawyer I want to represent me.

One might assume that the ordinance was rewritten at the next city-council meeting. If not sooner.

What is Mrs Emerson

doing in her back yard?

     I think she's going to

sunbathe herself.

OMG! She's taking

off her bathing suit!

She's naked!

I better go tell Dad.

He'll want to see this!

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Guns and Nudity will be continued in a future blog entry.

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The Blizzard of '85

Less then pleased!

When we (me and my dogs) got up a while back, we were less than please to discover that the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow. We discovered this a bit past 6am, when we went outside to "do some business."

By "doing business" I mean they needed to do what everyone else needs to do when they first get up: They need to pee!

Peeing is not as pleasant of a task on cold, snowy days. The boys (Freedom and Macky) were reasonably OK with it, because all they needed to do is lift a leg. Sarah, however, being female, does not lift her leg. She squats. And I could see an expression of discomfort as she squatted, hovering just above the snow, and tinkled. As soon as she was finished, she ran (ran!) back to where I stood waiting by the door with my cup of coffee, ran past me, and ran back inside (where it was warm).

I'm sure many of you ladies reading this are sympathetic to Sarah's ordeal. For those of you who aren't, try this: Go outside (without pants) and hover just barely above the snow for 5-10 seconds. You will not only be sympathetic, you will be empathetic.

And I bet you run back to the door as well.

For those of you who are actually going to try this: From observing Sarah, I have discovered the proper method of thawing frozen genitalia is to curl up in front of the space heater and let the warm air blow over your body.

I dislike the snow, and the cold, and everything associated with winter.
Except spiced rum and eggnog.

When I hear about the polar vortexes coming down to freeze part of the U.S of A. that are rarely frozen, by vortexes or other, I am reminded the time that south Texas got covered in snow, a time fondly remembered as:

The Blizzard of '85.
Saturday, January 12th, 1985.

When I was in Basic Training, amongst the numerous forms we had to fill out was AF Form 392. Also called a dream sheet, this form allowed to to express your assignment preference to whoever was in charge of assigning you. What you did, using a alphanumeric code to indicate where you would like to be stationed, was select eight locations overseas and 8 locations CONUS (for all you civilians, CONUS means CONtinental United States) and turned the form into the personnel office. It would go into your personnel file, and would be consulted regarding your restationing.

They weren't under any obligation, however, to honor you request(s) - which is why it was called a "dream sheet."

In fact there was a story that there was a super-computer on Randolph AFB (in Texas) which could, based on your choices, determine with uncanny accuracy the one place you didn't want to go. And try to send you there!

Friends call me Snow Miser
 What ever I touch
Turns to snow in my clutch
 I'm too much!

Macky Rae (my youngest dog)
likes Christmas specials, including
The Year Without a Santa Claus.

He even learned the snow miser dance!

But as I said I dislike the snow and the cold and everything associated with winter, so I selected 8 warm places overseas and 8 warm (southern) locations CONUS. My eight overseas locations, and my first 5 CONUS, were overlooked, and after I completed Technical Training I was assigned to Kelly AFB - San Antonio, Texas.

South Texas. That should be warm, right?

Wrong!

Because there are no mountains to slow him down, the Snow Miser (and all his dancing minions) come charging down the great plains at full speed in the winter month, bringing the freezing cold, although rarely, however, does he grace the city of San Antonio with snow.

Which brings us to Saturday, January 12th, 1985.

The first indication that something was wrong was the fact that I was able to sleep late, past oh eight hundred (8am to all you civilians). I could usually sleep as late as I wanted on the weekends, but this was "Warrior Weekend" and I should not have been able to sleep past oh eight hundred.

McDonnell Douglas F-4C Phantom II

For those of you who don't know, "Warrior Weekend" is when the Air National Guard and/or Air Force Reserve units come in to do their "one weekend a month." On our base, that was (amongst others) the 182d Tactical Fighter Squadron (Texas Air National Guard).

I should also mention that the roar of
the F4s were also extremely disturbing
for those who were hungover.

The dormitory in which I lived was within close distance of the flight line. At oh eight hundred on "Warrior Weekend" the ROAR of the engines announced that F-4Cs were beginning there flights, and it was time for you to get up (whether you wanted to or not).

But that morning, the F-4Cs were mysteriously silent.

I got up, showered, and (needing a cup of coffee) went downstairs to the bar (yes, we had a bar in our barracks) where I helped myself to a cup of coffee. It was then that I noticed my friend and co-worker David "Mac" McLaughlin holding a cup of coffee, staring out the window. I poured my own cup of coffee, then went over to the window to see what he was staring at.

It was then that I learned why the Phantoms were silent:  

The base had been transformed into a winter wonderland!

I looked out the window to see what Mac was so intently staring at, and I saw the snow. And not just a little snow. Not a light dusting of snow. But lots of snow. Snow Miser (and his minions) dumped well over a foot of snow, not only on our lovely Air Base, but through-out Bexar County.

Mac, who had just transferred from Loring AFB (Maine) was in a daze. As he put it: "I was really looking forward to a winter where I didn't have to deal with @#$% snow."

Yeah, Mac. So was I.

So, as we stared out at the flight line and watch Red Horse (the base's civil engineers) pushing the snow off the runway with caterpillar bulldozers.

And the base was lucky to have those. Considering it had been almost 30 years since San Antonio had seen snow, you can be darn sure the nearest snow plow was hundreds of miles away, towards the north.

So as Mac and I were watching the snow, that's when Iggy came down, dressed in redneck winter appeal and began filling her 24oz travel mug with coffee.

So, what (you might ask) is an "Iggy"?

Scandihoovia

Iggy is (or was, at the time) an air traffic controller for the Air Force. Iggy's real name is Julie Ingerdahl.

Actually it was Juliette, but DON"T call her that.

Ever.

Everyone called her "Iggy" which was derived from her last name (Ingerdahl) and (as you might suspect) with a name like Ingerdahl, you would be correct to assume that she was of Scandihoovian decent.

A Scandihoovian, in case you didn't know, is:

a) someone from Scandihoovia, or

b) someone who is descended from someone from Scandihoovia.

When one thinks of a Scandahoovian, one thinks of a tall, statuesque Nordic goddess with fair skin, piercing blue eyes and golden hair. And above average breasts, at the very least D-cups.

This description did not apply to Iggy.

Juliette Ingerdahl was 5'2", 110# (wet), freckled face, hazel eyes, and mousy brown hair. And B-cups (maybe).

A counrty girl from Minnesota, she was the youngest of 5 children, and the only girl. Having grown up with 4 older brothers, she knew how to hold her own in an organization that was (and still is) predominantly male oriented.

She could also swear. Her favorite expression, especially when she was drinking, was @#$% you!!

I leave it to you to figure out what @#$% means.

1985 Ford F-250

Like a lot of servicemen... uh, servicepersons? Like a lot of military personnel, Iggy bought a new vehicle. In her case, a new truck - a Ford F-250, loaded with options and accessories. Including a C.B. radio.

This was, FYI, in the 80s. We didn't have cell phones back then, so if you wanted to talk and drive, you needed a citizen's band radio.

Iggy's truck is important to this story.

So, as I said, Iggy came down, dressed in redneck winter apparel and began filling her 24oz travel mug with coffee.

"You look like your going out for a drive."

"Yeah" Iggy said. "I am going get my hair done."

Iggy didn't got her hair done that day.

Like a lot of northerners, the sight of the snow registered in our minds of snow delays. But what we failed to realize at first was that San Antonio was not a northern town, and when it came to snow it was not snow delay but complete shut down. The locals couldn't get to work (or anywhere else) because the snow was blocking the roads. And as I mentioned earlier, the nearest snow plow was hundreds of miles to the north.

So, where as Iggy made it to the hair salon in her 4x4 truck, the stylist did not.

But at the time, us northerners weren't aware of this. So Mac gave her this warning:

"Be careful, Iggy. The snow is quite deep."

"I grew up in Minnesota" she replied. "I know how to drive in the snow." Famous last words.

For those who doubt, here is a picture
taken at the Alamo (in downtown San
Antonio) during the '85 blizzard. 

After a while, word reached us that the base exchange was finally opened, so Mac and decided to hike over and go shopping, as there was nothing else we could do, due to the snow.

I mean, other than drinking. But it just barely past noon-thirty, too early to start drinking. And with the snow, that was probably all we were going to be doing that evening, so it was best we not start too early and overdo it.

We decided to walk, mainly because it was easier than digging our cars out from under the snow. We hung out at the exchange for an hour or so, then returned to the barrack with our purchases.When we arrived at the barracks., we notices Julie's truck had return (and assumably so had Julie), and we could not help noticing it had a boo-boo that was not there earlier.

By boo-boo I mean that the driver's side door was pushed in several inch from the impact of a '72 Chevy El Camino, the front window was cracked, and where the drivers side window should have been there was only cardboard held in place by duct tape.

There was also some damage to the dash board, but we learned that was cause by Iggy repeatedly hitting it with her fist shortly after the accident.

"Where do you suppose she is?"

"Where would you be if someone T-Boned your brand new Ford Truck?"

The bar.

As expected, when we entered the bar, we found Iggy siting in her usual spot, drinking a beer which was probably not her first that afternoon.

Or her last.

And she looked mad. Beyond mad, she looked pissed!

Normal people would have left her alone. But Mac was far from normal. Mac had no fear. And Mac was going to tease Iggy.

"Hey Iggy! What happened to your truck?"

She turned towards us. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face spoke volume

"I thought you said you knew how to drive in snow. I guess the guy who hit you didn't."

She glared at Mac, and if looks could kill he would be dead. He face twitched. You could see it coming. She opened her mouth slightly, and words emerged:

"@#$% you!!!" she responded.

I'm Mister White Christmas
I'm Mister Snow
I'm Mister Icicle
I'm Mister Ten Below
Friends call me Snow Miser
What ever I touch
Turns to snow in my clutch
I'm too much!

Controversial NFL Ref placed on Standby

NFL Commissioner
Roger Goodell

With the likelihood of the Seattle Seahawks winning the playoffs (and playing in the 2014 Superbowl), NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell announced that Bill Leavy has been put on standby to be the Head Referee at Superbowl XLVIII should the Seahawks win the NFC championship.

"Seattle is doing well" Goodell said in a press conference. "We have told Bill to be ready for the possibility of the Seahawks making it to the Superbowl a second time."

Bill Leavy is best know as the referee who's erroneous calls resulted in Seattle's 21-10 loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers in 2006. Leavy's erroneous call were:

• Receiver Darrell Jackson was called for offensive pass interference during a play, in which he caught a Matt Hasselbeck pass in the end zone. Seattle settled for a field goal instead of a 7-0 lead.
• The Seahawks appeared to have stopped Pittsburgh quarterback Ben Roethlisberger at the goal-line plane on his 1-yard score late in the first half that gave the Steelers a 7-3 lead. Leavy upheld the call after a replay review.
• Early in the fourth quarter, tackle Sean Locklear was called for holding on a pass completion that would have put the Seahawks at the Pittsburgh 1, poised for the go-ahead touchdown. After the penalty, Hasselbeck threw an interception.
• Hasselbeck was called for an illegal low block and given a 15-yard penalty on a tackle after the interception.

There were claims that Leavy had wagered on the game (a violation of NFL policy) against Seattle. Leavy was investigated, and cleared, of any illegality regarding his erroneous call by a Justice Department investigation. In the report to the Joint Congressional Subcommittee on Bogus Calls by Sport's Officials, the chief investigator stated that "stupidity and poor eye sight are not criminal offences."



Former Pittsburgh Steeler QB
Terry Bradshaw

Fearing possible retaliation from disgruntled Seattle fans, Steelers head coach Bill Cowher and Pittsburgh's mayor Bob O'Connor employed former quarterback Terry Bradshaw to serve as an ambassador to Seattle shortly after the game. Bradshaw visit the Puget Sound area for several days, meeting with Seattle residence and Seahawk fans. After meeting with several fans, including one who identified herself as "Erica," Bradshaw was able to redirect hostility from the Steelers and the Pittsburgh area to the offending referee, Bill Leavy.

Leavy received numerous death threats after Super Bowl XL, predominantly from the Pacific Northwest area. A number of  threats, sign by someone identifying herself as "Erica," threatened Leavy with various modes of death, the manner of which were all described as "slow and excruciatingly painful". As a result of these threats, Leavy was force to go into hiding. He lived in hiding for several years as part of a witness relocation program, until his location was discovered by disgruntled Seahawk fans.

"Upon reflection" stated Alan Smith (Department of Justice's Witness Relocation Program director, "I guess Wenatchee Washington was not the best location we could have come up with to send Mr. Leavy."

An FBI investigation was able to trace the "Erica" letters to Eastern Washington, but was unable to identify the person (or persons) sending the threats. No arrests were made, and the case is still unsolved.

Leavy eventually apologized in 2010 for his calls

Bill Leavy

"It was a tough thing for me. I kicked two calls in the fourth quarter and I impacted the game, and as an official you never want to do that. It left me with a lot of sleepless nights, and I think about it constantly. I'll go to my grave wishing that I'd been better.... I know that I did my best at that time, but it wasn't good enough.... When we make mistakes, you got to step up and own them. It's something that all officials have to deal with, but unfortunately when you have to deal with it in the Super Bowl it's difficult." 

A spokesperson for the Seahawk Fans of Eastern Washington (Moses Lake chapter), who identified herself as Erica (but not "that" Erica) said that his apology "was not good enough. Leavy needs to die a slow and excruciatingly painful death."

Head of Leavy's security team

Leavy has been taken to an undisclosed location, and is currently under 24 hour protection of U.S.Marshalls. If Seattle goes to the Super Bowl, the Marshalls will escort him to New Jersey for the game. Already, the at MetLife Stadium at the Meadowlands Sports Complex in East Rutherford, N.J. has been checked, and remains under surveillance in the event that an attempt is made against Leavy.

Asked if he was adequately protected, the head of the U.S.Marshall unit responsible for Leavy safety (who identified herself as "Erica") stated that all possible security precautions had been taken.

"He is quite safe under our protection. He will not be executed in any slow and excruciatingly painful manner."