Sunday, July 20, 2008

Back, but On the Run!

Well, my lovely wife's mom has been interred, her family is on their back to their far-flung domiciles, and we have returned from a few days with Beloved-but-Expensive Daughter in Babylon Boston. I have to return to work tomorrow and am looking forward to the rest.

Lovely Wife's mom's graveside service was lovely. Her mom's absence is going to leave a big hole in LW's life, so I would appreciate any prayers both for the repose of Henrietta and for my wife's peace of mind.

My vacation in Boston dang near killed me. I managed to take out my left knee, and - on the way back - got detained in Logan Airport and thrown out of Massachusetts. I need to get one of those Spring Break tee shirts that read Left on vacation - Came back on probation.

Being a good boy, I left all firearms at home, left my pocket knife at home, and left the titanium credit card knife I carry in my wallet at home. I carry (carried) a little aluminum kubotan on my keychain, which is basically an aluminum rod with rounded "point" on one end, about 5.5 inches by 0.5 inches in size.



In the hands of a kung fu master, a kubotan can quite successfully be used to subdue an opponent by applying it to pressure points and using the pain to force him into positions where he can be controlled.

I am NOT a kung fu master.

The only things I know with "fu" are tofu and fubar. I'm not fond of either.

I bought the thing because my current project is at a Federal facility, and I am forced to walk around as unarmed as a newborn gerbil. In my not-fu hands, a kubotan is a last-ditch, no-escape, I'm-gonna-die-but-maybe-I-can-leave-a-bruise-on-you sort of weapon that also helps keep me from losing my car keys. I've flown all over the bloody country with the thing in my pocket and nobody ever said boo. Until, of course, I got to Massachusetts. Apparently, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, a kubotan counts as a "prohibited weapon" under their criminal code. I got pulled out of line at security, had my carry-on searched to find the offending item (which was confiscated), and had to wait for a state trooper to show up to make copies of my driver's license and my carry permit, and fill out a police report. In the meantime, my pants were falling down because I had thrown my belt buckle in the same carry-on to go through security.

While I was joking around with the TSA guy and the cop, I mentioned that I thought a kubotan was legal anywhere, being about as dangerous in a crowd as bubble gum or a roll of wet toilet paper. The trooper's comment? "Remember - this is a Democrat state. They vote for Kennedy every damn time."

When the TSA agent asked me what Federal facility worked at, I told him I was a consultant on a project at Internal Revenue and apologized. I wasn't sure how one could sink any lower than that. He pointed out that I could have his job. Apparently, according to a recent survey, TSA is more despised by the American public than IRS, Congress, or the Mafia.

I plan on writing to the Mass. state police for a copy of the police report. I want to have it framed. It did, however lead to a song (to the tune of Oklahoma).

Maaaaaasachusetts, where the constitution's just a rag,
And the Kennedy's win
Though their girls can't swim,
And the bishops all dress up in drag.

Maaaaaasachusetts, the bluest state you'll ever see,
Where the proles are tricked
By the Bolsheviks
Into giving up their rights for free!

Thank God I still live in a free state!