Ed

Member since: Feb 23rd, 2006

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GPS Leads Truck to Impassable Road for 5 Days (Switched)

Feb 27th 2009 7:07PM "If Iran, North Korea, or Islamic terrorists ever detonate a "dirty nuke" (they all plan to) in our atmosphere, your GPS technology will be completely worthless. You'd better be able to navigate, using the sun and stars, and you'd better be able to read maps."

Now, calm down, Dan...people will continue to improperly utilize unfamiliar technologies, whether you and I approve or not...lol! Take some comfort from the knowledge that the same people who can't read a map or operate a GPS unit, probably aren't particularly good drivers either! They'll 'self-select' out of the gene pool before reproducing, with any luck!

By the way, the only interference that a nuclear bomb (dirty or a clean neutron device) exploded in our atmosphere would cause the GPS system would be because of the electromagnetic pulse phenomenon. GPS works despite cloud cover, fog, snow, rain. And, Dan, ...you might want to recall, it was originally designed FOR the military, so that old coots like you and me wouldn't HAVE to rely on the questionable map-reading skills of young recruits...lol!

Georgia Sex Offenders Must Hand Over Passwords (Switched)

Jan 1st 2009 7:37PM Yes, Momof3, but then there are those found guilty that are later proven to be innocent of any wrong-doing. And please don't say 'it doesn't happen that often.' I personally know TWO individuals who were falsely accused, and had their lives totally ruined by the experience.
One was a husband - falsely accused by a vicdictive soon-to-be-ex-wife, who was trying to muster grounds for sole custody of their children. He spent three years in prison, until his case was retried on appeal. Yes, he was found not guilty during the second trial, but the professional, finacial and psychological damage already done was beyond repair...he committed suicide within a year of his release.
The other was a young married man accused of raping a 14-year-old girl. He was convicted almost solely on the testimony of his accuser, and the fact that he had no provable alibi for the period of time during which the crime had been committed. The police and DA only did blood-typing, not DNA, and his blood type was the same as the attacker's. He had a public defender and no money for DNA tests that could have exonerated him. his wife divorced him, and even today he is STILL trying to force the courts to at least allow himn visitation with his two children. Two years after his conviction, after he himself had been repeatedly raped in prison, his family and friends were able to raise enough money to persuade an independant lab to DO the DNA testing, and he was given a new trial. He was subsequently proven NOT to be the man who had raped the girl. He is now HIV-Positive, too ill to work, and living in his parent's basement. His life is effectively already over, save but the funeral.
The climate of Guilty-until-proven-innocent surrounding any accusation of child molestation or sexual misconduct has created an atmosphere of unwarrented fear and often results in rushes to judgements, spurred on by police and prosecutors responding to the public's demands that those guilty are punished swiftly and mercilessly, even beyond their time in prison. Placing someone's name permanently on a sex-offender list virtually assures that they will have trouble finding a job, a place to live, never have contact with their own children, and forces them to go on being punished for the rest of their lives...where is the justice in that? We even allow those convicted of MURDER who have served their full sentences back into society. See anything wrong here???

Galley Gossip: Love on the Plane - plus enter to win More Than This by Margo Candela (Gadling)

Aug 8th 2008 2:11PM Oh, I'm so glad I stumbled onto the site today! I usually enjoy reading the cockpit gossip, but this contest...How delightful! So, here's my own story of love on a plane...

Many years ago, when I was young and foolish enough to think that if I could make it in New York, I thought I could make it anywhere. I found out along the way that New York is a creampuff compared to a few other places in the world, but anyway...I had taken an office job in NYC the previous fall, and I was making my first visit home to Tennessee for Christmas. It was a miserable evening flight on Piedmont Airlines (yeah, I'm old enough to remember Piedmont, may they rest in peace). The plane was a small turbo-prop, it was rainy and stormy, and we'd bounced over the mountains trying not to use the convenient little bags. Somewhere south of Charleston, West Virginia, a lovely, unhappy-looking young woman came running past me in the aisle, making a desperate but ladylike dash to the bathroom before losing her sandwich and salad. Yes, children, once upon a time they served real food on airplanes, but I digress...
She arrived at the door of the restroom to discover that someone else's meal had beaten her to the punch. In a loud voice, dripping with the sugar-voweled tones only a true Southern Bell can mouth without sounding foolish, she wailed, "Oh, sheeeit!" and let fly across the cabin. Fortunately, the flight was lightly occupied, and the seat she bathed was empty. Hearing a fellow Southerner in distress, what could I do but rush to her side offering her whatever aid possible, in her moment of need? Actually, she was grateful for my proffered handkerchief, and mopped her face and the front of her dress with as much dignity as she was able to muster, under the circumstances, until the green-gilled occupant of the restroom vacated, and she was able to go in and perform the repairs properly.
I returned to my seat, resignedly contenting myself that I had been suitably chivalrous, and never expected to see her again. A few moments later, I was watching solid clouds out the window, when I felt someone lightly settle into the seat beside me. I turned to find my young female southern woman, looking (and smelling) much better. She smiled and offered me her hand. She was small and thin, but with pleasing gentle curves in all the right places, with dark-honey colored hair falling to her shoulders, and a freckle-face alight with a warm smile that you just had to smile right back at.
"Andrea...Andrea Miller...but my friends call me Andy. I guess we're sure enough friends now!" And she laughed, waving toward the rear of the plane and the scene of the crime. She was from Atlanta, also trying to storm New York, also on her way home for Christmas, and confessed that she'd noticed me, even in the midst of her mad dash rearward. I allowed that I couldn't have helped but notice her, either, and we shared another laugh. We talked for the rest of the flight.
When the flight finally arrived at the Johnson City/Kingsport airport, my destination, the flight stopped for an hour, before continuing on to Atlanta. Andy got off the plane with me, and we had a cup of coffee together while we waited for her boarding call. She mentioned that it was a bit lonely and so different from all she was used to in New York, and I said that I would be honored to call on her when I returned to the city, just before New Year's Eve. "Oh," she gushed, "I've always wanted to be in Times Square on New Year's Eve. You wanna go together?" It was a date...the first of many...
Andy and I spent most of the winter and spring exploring and savoring New York together, whenever we had free time...trying tiny little 4-table Mom-and-Pop restaurants in Little Italy, strolling down Mott Street window shopping and buying egg rolls from street vendors in China Town...trying to figure out the subway system...even wandering around at the Fulton Fish Market. I shook a baby octopus in her face, and got fishy-smelling ice down my back for my trouble!
We went to museums, concerts, shopping...all the while maintaining a strictly platonic friendship. I always saw Andy to her apartment door at the end of whatever adventure we'd shared that day, and she would always give me a friendly peck on the cheek goodnight, but we both pointedly refrained from anything more. Neither of us quite wanted to become physical and possibly ruin a developing warm friendship. We were 'old school' Southern kids, remember?
Then one warm, enchanting spring evening, as we were walking through Greenwich Village after a movie, I felt her warm, soft little hand slip into mine. Somehow, we walked right past the subway line to her place, and without even discussing it, we ended up standing in front of my apartment. When we got to the door, Andy shyly asked, "Now, y'all ain't be silly about this and offer to sleep on the couch or nothin' foolish like that, are ya? I mean...uh...cause I don't want ya to think I--"
I stopped her from talking anymore the best way I knew how. I kissed her! It seemed to be the right thing to do, at that moment...oh yes, turned out it was exactly the right thing! Us Southern Boys may talk a little slow, but we're NOT stupid!
It was nice...it was tender and sweet, and if you think I'm about to divulge any salacious details about that night or any other night with my dear Andy, you're reading the wrong story! Old School Southern Boys do NOT Kiss and Tell!
We remained good friends for a couple of years, eventually choosing to go our separate ways as amicably and warmly as we'd spent all that time together. We called and talked a lot, sometimes meeting for lunch, or a show, but it had changed, and we both knew it. Eventually, I moved to another city. We exchanged occasional letters and cards, and finally one day I received a wedding invitation. There is no doubt in my mind that he was a very lucky man.
I will always remember my sweet friend Andrea fondly, as one of the most wonderful things that ever could have happened to a lonely young man, one night on a plane...

Tony Robbins offers some 'tips' for the tough economy (WalletPop)

Jul 27th 2008 3:24PM The best measure of professional advice is whether or not the person giving it is willing to back it up, and how much they're held responsible for that advice. If a doctor, attorney, or accountant gives me useless or bad advice...I can recover damages from them...and if the advice was bad enough, they're own professional credentials could even be on the line. I wonder if Mr. Robbins is willing to do that with his advice...lol?

Top 25 things vanishing from America: #7 -- Personal checks (WalletPop)

Jul 15th 2008 10:33AM I have to agree w/ Pam (Post # 6). My mortgage lender gladly accepts payment by personal check free of charge,but charges an additional $10.00 per payment if payment is made online or by telephone. Sure, you'd think they would realize the value and safety of getting their money instantly by allowing me to mak online payments for free...but I suspect their real motive is to encourag me to have my mortgage payent deducted automatically each month from my checking account (for which they do NOT charge anything!) And like Providian, who was fined hundreds of millions for deliberately post-dating customer payments, I've noticed that on several occasions, my lender says my checks seemed to have taken up to three weeks to arrive and be posted to my account, thereby incurring hefty late fees. Hmmm...so, now I simply pay them a month ahead, to prevent them from incurring that little scheme.

Best Opening Lyrics: No. 1 (Spinner)

Aug 14th 2007 12:22AM Oh, come on! Jethro Tull's 'Thick as a Brick' album began with the words 'I really don't mind... if you sit this one out.' And since the entire album was comprised of that ONE song...it was damned good advice!

20 Protest Songs That Matter: No. 1 (Spinner)

Aug 14th 2007 12:07AM I have only two words to add: Pete Seeger. HIs rendition of 'Big Muddy' was axed at the last minute from the Smothers Brothers Show in the late 60's because network censors considered it 'too inflamotory for most audiences to tolerate.' This debacle, along with the ever-increasing anti-war stance of the brothers themselves, soon led to the cancellation of their show, despite their still-stellar ratings.

The Flying Luxury Hotel (Luxist)

Feb 23rd 2006 9:12AM Emily, it would take less fuel to 'get that in the air' than the average family car uses during one trip to the mall and back. Lighter-than-air vehicles needn't expend much energy to become airborne -- they only require fuel expenditure for propulsion. But, can we say one word...'Hindenburg'?