Tag Archives: Pearl Harbor

Sack Heads: AGAINST TYRANNY, Wednesday, 7-18-18

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The Sack Heads Radio Show on the SHR Media Network is no more; in its stead — same time and day — is the Sack Heads: AGAINST TYRANNY Show (an actual SHAT Show) helmed by Sack Heads Clint and Sack Heads BZ.

As one would expect, Clint and BZ tore through the gristle of today’s screaming headlines and ripped out the sinewy Tendons of Truth ensconced within, all from the Hoary Streets of Shatramento, Fornicalia, exposing the trembling toadies, sniveling jackanapes and fripperous fopdoodles infesting Leftist and Progressive ant farms nationally.

Featuring the effervescent contrarian Sack Heads CLINT, plus the unrestrained bulbosity of the ZEPPMEISTER — doubling your late night Conservative talk show pleasure with double the hosts — elements that, when combined, produce delayed borborygmus and, in some cases, true elegance. Some contents may have settled during shipping. Member FDIC. Batteries not included. Warranty void in Montenegro.

Following Sack Heads Shaun’s grandiose appearance last week, Clint was back in his customary chair with a bit of perturbation about the positioning of his camera. It was also pointed out, to Clint, how the table and microphone were now more “Clint-proof” in order to keep him from smacking the mic and making unsettling noises over the air that don’t sit well with those in the chat room.

However, Clint clearly possessed disdain for the new video cam position and let there be no question about his feelings as evidenced below.

Tonight Clint and BZ talked about a veritable gaggle — no, a shrewdness, a murmuration, an obstinancy, a warren, a pandemonium, a gaggle, a muster, a covey, an unkindness, a maelstrom, a knot, a shiver, an intrusion, a smack, a hive, a prickle, a cauldron of topics partially (but by no means fully or robustly) to include:

  • Don’t quote baseball lines, don’t throw rocks at strippers named Kiki;
  • The San Diego Padres haven’t been cat piss since Dan Fouts was quarterback;
  • Sack Heads Clint is a lean, mean, athletic machine;
  • Flying into San Diego’s Lindbergh Field isn’t for the faint of heart;
  • Sack Heads Clint saw a Lockheed U2;
  • Sack Heads Clint was testing to see if BZ was actually listening to what he says;
  • Bill Browder donates $400,000 to the HRC campaign from RUSSIA;

Peter Strzok does The Stroke, as per Dan Bongino.

And so much more buttery political goodness. Wait for the BLOCKBUSTER story at the end.

For DISH subscribers: your Hopper has recently been wired to play YouTube videos. You can now toss the SHAT Show onto your massive flatscreen TV and watch him in all of his obese, biased and politically-execrable potty-mouthed goodness. Quarter in a hat.

If you care to listen to the show in Spreaker, click on the yellow button at the upper left.

Listen to “Sack Heads: AGAINST TYRANNY, Wednesday, 7-18-18” on Spreaker.

If you care to watch the show on the SHR Media YouTube channel, click on the red arrow in the middle of the video. Please SUBSCRIBE to the SHR Media channel.

If you care to watch this episode on the SHR Media Facebook page (in glorious color, like any of the Quinn Martin productions), click right here. Kindly LIKE us and FRIEND us on Facebook.

Please FOLLOW the SHAT Show on Twitter @2againsttyranny.

BZ asks to remind everyone that the hosts only monitor the Shat Room at SHRMEDIA.COM — though there are Shat rooms on Facebook and YouTube. We can only monitor one Shat room at a time so, please, we ask that you partake of the SHR Media Shat room. Heavy sigh: if only BZ had a producer who could monitor them all.

-Want to listen to the SHAT Show archives in podcast? Go here.
-Want to watch the show live on Facebook? Go to the SHR Media Facebook page here.
-Want to watch past SHAT Shows on YouTube? Go here.

“SHAT is where it’s at.”

Thank you one and all for listening to, watching and supporting the SHR Media Network: “Conservative Media Done Right”!

BZ

 

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A WWII sailor’s dying wish:

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From idrivewarships.com:

After signing my Pop, EM2 Bud Cloud (circa Pearl Harbor) up for hospice care, the consolation prize I’d given him (for agreeing it was OK to die) was a trip to “visit the Navy in San Diego.”

Bud Cloud, USNI emailed my friend and former Marine sergeant, Mrs. Mandy McCammon, who’s currently serving as a Navy Public Affairs Officer, at midnight on 28 May. I asked Mandy if she had enough pull on any of the bases in San Diego to get me access for the day so I could give Bud, who served on USS Dewey (DD-349), a windshield tour.

And from there, the reality occurred.

The next day she sent me an email from the current USS Dewey (DDG 105)’s XO, CDR Mikael Rockstad, inviting us down to the ship two days later.

We linked up with Mandy outside Naval Base San Diego and carpooled to the pier where we were greeted by CMDCM Joe Grgetich and a squad-sized group of Sailors. Bud started to cry before the doors of the van opened. He’d been oohing and pointing at the cyclic rate as we approached the pier, but when we slowed down and Mandy said, “They’re all here for you, Bud,” he was overwhelmed.

The USS Dewey site is here.

After we were all out of the van directly in front of the Dewey, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, Petty Officer Simon introduced himself and said as the ship’s Sailor of the Year he had the honor of pushing Bud’s wheelchair for the day. Unbeknownst to us, they’d decided to host Bud aboard the Dewey, not at the Dewey. And so they carried him aboard. None of us expected him to go aboard the ship. I’d told him we were going down to the base and would have the chance to meet and greet a few of the Sailors from the new Dewey. He was ecstatic. The day before, he asked every few hours if we were “still going down to visit the boys from the Dewey,” and “do they know I was on the Dewey, too?”

If this isn’t bringing a tear to your eye right now, then I submit that you aren’t quite human.

Saluting BudOnce aboard, we were greeted by the CO, CDR Jake Douglas, the XO and a reinforced platoon-sized group of Sailors. To say it was overwhelming is an understatement. These men and women waited in line to introduce themselves to Bud. They shook his hand, asked for photos with him, and swapped stories. It was simply amazing.

They didn’t just talk to him, they listened.

And listening isn’t just suggestive, it’s mandatory.  If you wish to actually immure and archive history.

Bud’s voice was little more than a weak whisper at this point and he’d tell a story and then GMC Eisman or GSCS Whynot would repeat it so all of the Sailors on deck could hear. In the midst of the conversations, Petty Officer Flores broke contact with the group. Bud was telling a story and CMDCM Grgetich was repeating the details when Flores walked back into view holding a huge photo of the original USS Dewey. That moment was priceless. Bud stopped mid-sentence and yelled, “There she is!” They patiently stood there holding the photo while he told them about her armament, described the way it listed after it was hit, and shared other details about the attacks on Pearl Harbor.

Bud finally admitted how tired he was after more than an hour on deck. While they were finishing up goodbyes and taking last minute photographs, GMC Eisman asked if it’d be OK to bring Sailors up to visit Bud in a few months after a Chief’s board. I hadn’t said it yet because I didn’t want it to dampen the spirit of the day, but I quietly explained to GMC Eisman the reason we’d asked for the visit was simple: Bud was dying.

Yes he was.

I told him they were welcome to come up any time they wanted, but I suspected Bud had about a month left to live. Almost without hesitation, he asked if the crew could provide the burial honors when the time came. I assured him that’d be an honor we’d welcome.

Leaving the ship was possibly more emotional than boarding.

They piped him ashore.

CMDCM Grgetich leaned in and quietly told me how significant that honor was and who it’s usually reserved for as we headed towards the gangplank. Hearing “Electrician’s Mate Second Class William Bud Cloud, Pearl Harbor Survivor, departing” announced over the 1MC was surreal.

But no less deserved.

He died 13 days later. For 12 of those 13 days he talked about the Dewey, her Sailors and his visit to San Diego. Everyone who came to the house had to hear the story, see the photos, hold the coins, read the plaques.

There you go.  A real American.

True to his word, GMC Eisman arranged the details for a full honors burial. The ceremony was simple yet magnificent. And a perfect sendoff for an ornery old guy who never, ever stopped being proud to be a Sailor. After the funeral, the Sailors came back to the house for the reception and spent an hour with the family. This may seem like a small detail, but it’s another example of them going above and beyond the call of duty, and it meant more to the family than I can explain.

William Cloud said: “This is the best day of my life, daughter. I never in my whole life dreamed I’d step foot on the Dewey again or shake the hand of a real life Sailor.”

Please check the iDriveWarships site here.

Fair winds and following seas, sir.

BZ

Bud Cloud Departing

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Taking a break, catching up

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Like Texas Fred, I’ve been down with the flu for the past five days.  Every system involving bodily fluids has been affected.  I’m sure you can do the visuals.

That said, the past week has also been remarkably expensive.  The water pump and tensioner went out on my Toyota, necessitating the replacement of the pump, lines, belts, tensioner — and a general service with recall.  Oil splayed all over the engine compartment.  Chalk that up to $800.

This morning, I slank (past participle of slunk) creakingly out of bed at 6 AM for a bathroom call.  I then headed for the laundry room to turn off the porch light.  My bare feet came into shockingly-cold contact with the completely soaked runner in said laundry room.  I turned on the ceiling light.  The entire floor was flooded.  I looked at the water heater.  It was leaking at the rate of about a drip a second from the base.

I peeked through the glass.  The pilot was still lighted.  But for how long?

I knew the water heater was kaput.  It was over 10 years old, a direct-vent State.  Somewhere in the tank, it had sprung a leak.  I didn’t know if the leak was high or — gulp — low.  I had no way of knowing without completely removing the outer metal jacket and exposing the inner insulation.  And at 6 AM in my underwear, that wasn’t happening.

Between bathroom jaunts, I managed to pull up the runner, put it outside to drain, and then attempted to mop up as best I could with a number of towels.  They quickly became sodden and I had to leave the door open — it was 38-degrees outside — in order to wring the towels dry and replace them.

I made phone calls.  A number of them.  One plumbing company actually responded (God bless them!).  The leak was so low, I had to put a dinner plate on the floor to collect the water.  I ended up dumping this plate roughly every five minutes.  Suffice to say, until the company arrived, I was rather occupied with towels and draining.  I had to move the washer and dryer in order to sop up the H2O.

In between necessary bathroom bouts.

I have linoleum on the floor, but the area directly beneath the water heater is exposed flooring.  It got wet.  Luckily, not soaked to the max because I caught the leak before it went too far.

My first thought: if I weren’t home sick, I would not have caught the leak.  It would have continued unabated until I returned four days later.  That meant the entire heater (of the 50-gallon variety) would have dumped its water continuously, snuffed the pilot, continued with the propane, and then ruined the entire first floor of my home.

The first time I’ve ever been absolutely overjoyed at being home sick.

Luckily, ABT Plumbing located an appropriate water heater and installed same.  Thanks to Paul and Ben.  $3,300 later.  But I got a $10 discount.  They still owe me some earthquake straps, however.

Yeah.  It was an expensive week.  HMOG.  To the tune of $4,100 +.

As I write this, I am totally exhausted.  I had to stay up, of course, whilst they worked.  And everything still needs to be cleaned up.  The laundry room is bereft of the bulk of its stuff, as I had to move it all into the dining room.  Where it still rests.  I’ll try to get to it tomorrow in between bathroom and Kleenex bouts.  I just don’t possess the chuff currently.  I think I’m writing this because I was so wound up, all day.  I’m trying to bleed a bit of adrenaline and such.

I almost forgot the significance of today’s date: December 7th.  71 years ago, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and America’s involvement in WWII began.  Some photographs you won’t find on Google:

There are fewer than a couple of hundred thousand WWII veterans left.  Roughly 600 die a day.  There will come a time, shortly, when none of these valiant men will be around.

And finally, though this blog post is both long and all over the map:

I purchased a new phone.  And I am very happy with my choice.

I had an Apple iPhone 3GS.  People at work had iPhones.  I previously owned an LG.  My compatriots owned the 3G.  I purchased the 3GS for me and my wife.  I thought I was shitting in the tall cotton.  Of course, the iPhone 4 and 5 passed me by.

In the meantime, my wife wanted an update.  I purchased the Samsung Galaxy Note for her earlier this year.  She was extremely pleased with its performance and relinquished her iPhone 3GS willingly.  The Note was significantly larger than her previous iPhone.  But she still enjoyed its abilities.

In the meantime, I was seriously considering the Samsung Galaxy S3, which many of my co-workers had.  It’s a beautiful and wonderful phone.  It received the top recommendation from Consumer Reports.

Then the Note II came out.  My wife became instantly jealous.

It is slightly taller and slightly less wide.  It is also slightly less in weight.

I liked her phone.  So I purchased a Samsung Galaxy Note II for me.

It may be the ultimate “anti-iPhone.”

It’s huge and brilliant and responsive and huge and brilliant.  Did I mention huge and brilliant?  Or responsive?

It’s not for everyone.  But at my advanced age, I adore the big screen, the thin depth, and the fact that I’ve paired it up with not only my RAV4 but with a new BlueAnt earpiece.  It has a screen I can actually SEE.

It’s large, but I checked first: it fits in all of my Carhartt T-shirts and my uniform shirt.  It just doesn’t fit in my vehicle cupholders any more.  Out-thrust lower lip displayed now.

But having used both iPhone and Android systems: I like Android a lot better.

And Apple pissed me off with its new different iPhone charging cord.

My Samsung Galaxy Note II is huge, but I’m loving the hell out of it.  I’m also discovering: I charged the iPhone 3GS at least once daily.  I’m charging the Note II every other day.  On the stock battery.

Any thoughts?

BZ

P.S.
It has an 8mp camera.  I was amazed.  Here is an example:

 

 

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