What Not To Do and How To Do It 

      You know what you have to do. You know where you’re going to do it. You make your plans. Then comes the day when you and your partner make your move to carry out the plan. 
     It’s a simple plan. Just walk into that McDonald’s and demand the money in the cash registers. I mean, people who work in a McDonald’s can’t be much of a threat to people waving guns around, can they? 
     Well, funny you should ask. 
     The two robbers who walked into the McDonald’s in Ecole-Valentin, near Besancon, were probably thinking: Yep, easy pickings.        What they failed to notice were eleven Special Forces soldiers sitting at tables eating their lunch. 
     But the Special Forces men noticed them. They waited until the robbers exited the establishment. The eleven soldiers followed and confronted the robbers, who took the advice to surrender with less than the serious manner the soldiers thought appropriate, so they shot one robber in the stomach, and believe it or not, the second robber fell down a flight of stairs and sustained serious injuries. Funny how that could happen. 
     The moral of this story: If there is any, it is: one – don’t rob a McDonald’s; two – if you absolutely must rob a McDonald’s, make sure there are no Special Forces people sitting around having Big Macs.

Internet Journalism - - Who’s Writing This Stuff? 

     A June 9, 2016, article put out by the AP, from Ersey City, New Jersey starts out by saying: 

 “A man getting ready to watch the sunrise on a piece of plywood in a marina _ _” 

      Okay, did this man really expect to see the sunrise on a piece of plywood? Usually, sunrises are seen in the sky, but in New Jersey who knows. 

 The report continues:      

“The man was sent drifting into the river on an 8-foot-long piece of plywood_ _ _” 

      Okay, so the man was on a floating piece of plywood, and probably planning on watching the sunset in the sky. [I feel a little better about this guy already.] The question is, why was the man on the plywood. Maybe he couldn’t afford a boat. But a piece of plywood? Give me a break. 
      Now a few addition details would have been helpful. It says an 8-foot-long piece. Question: how wide was this piece?” How thick was this piece?” If I was going to use a piece of plywood for a boat, these additional dimensions would make a big difference. 

 The report continues:

 “_ _ _ was swept out by the Hudson River current_ _ _” 

      So not only is this guy on a piece of plywood, but launches this makeshift boat where there is a current that will take him out into a harbor, and as the report says, “into the harbor's highly traveled commercial lanes.” There is no indication that he had any way to control the piece of plywood---no motor, no oars. So what did he think was going to happen? 

The report continues: 

“The man told rescuers from fire department marine units that he went out to the dock at the Newport Yacht Club and Marina in Jersey City to watch the sun come up.” 

      So how did this guy get from the dock onto a small piece of plywood? Was this piece of plywood part of the dock? Did this guy get off the dock and onto the plywood on purpose? If so, and without any additional information, maybe some psychological evaluation is in order. 

The report continues: 

“Guzzo said he believes the man stayed on the piece of wood because he didn't want to jump into the water and lose his cellphone while swimming back.” 

      So now the report is telling us what a third party is guessing the man on the piece of plywood might have been thinking. That isn’t even hearsay testimony. This is pure conjecture and I’m not sure why it’s included in the report. 

Other questions: 

      What part of the sunrise could he see from the piece of plywood that he couldn’t see from the dock? 

      And last but not least, did he ever get his pictures of the sunrise? 
      So here we have a piece of internet journalism that is poorly written, and lacking in pertinent information. It would be less disturbing if this was an isolated case.

Now This Is A Good Friend 
     In Fairbanks, Alaska, a man escaped from a minimum-security facility. Using the word “escape” here might be a little misleading, as the caretakers of this facility have instructions not to interfere with inmates who decide to leave. 
     Now that’s minimum-security. The escapee was seen riding a bicycle away from the facility. Three hours later he returned with an SUV and picked up some of his fellow inmates. They all left together. The last report is that this man is still on the loose.      Maybe the police have instructions prohibiting them from looking for the people who decide to leave. It makes a person wonder why they go to the trouble of putting people in this facility in the first place.

Is Everybody Happy!? No? Then Vote For Me.          

     When I was younger, it was common around Memorial Day to find veterans in or out of uniform, sometimes accompanied by a currently serving service man, offering small red paper poppies outside stores, on street corners, or anyplace they thought there might be a crowd.      These poppies had a stem, a green center, and a banner attached saying that any donation went to the Veterans of Foreign Wars. For a donation these past and present service persons would give you a poppy, which you would proudly wear in a lapel, shirt pocket, or somewhere so people could see that you supported the veteran’s cause. It also kept other poppy purveyors from accosting you for a donation. 

      My point is that you didn’t get a poppy unless you made a donation. I can’t remember anyone ever saying that it was unfair. No one even thought that way. Why in the world should you get a Poppy unless you made a donation? It was one of those common sense things.              Yesterday I was coming out of Fred Meyer loaded down with bags of stuff to eat, when a veteran stepped up to me and stuck a poppy into a fist clenched around the plastic handles of grocery bags. He was giving one out to everybody who walked in or out of the store. Helping him was a young Marine. They did have a table with some literature and a canister for donations. 
      I thought to myself, so, in this kinder, gentler time we live in, here’s another example that all of us are equal, and that we all get the same thing no matter what we do or how much we contribute. Everybody is a winner.       The problem is, from what I see, the general populace is more divided now, or at least much more vocal about our differences despite the effort to make us all out to be the same, all equal, all worthy of the same things, and the same treatment. 
      Part of what brings this to light is the current situation where political contenders, are using divisiveness as a springboard to political office. They’re telling us how unequal we are, what freedoms we lack, who’s taking advantage of us, and which neighbor’s trying to kill us. Then when the candidates tell us how they’re going to solve the problems, it only further points out to everyone how much better off the other guy or group is. This creates everything from jealousy, to hate. I’m not saying it all started with Buddy Poppies, but that the Buddy Poppy situation brought it to my mind.

Who Needs the Protection 
     Recently in Rancho Cucamonga, California, two bears came into town and were spotted wandering around near a couple schools. The school officials, when hearing about the bears, put the school into what they call ‘lockdown.’ 
      I’m guessing this means that the kids couldn’t get out. 
      My question is this, were they protecting the kids from the bears or the bears from the kids? I’m guessing most of the kids, if they are anything like me and my schoolmates, would have dearly loved to go out and see the bears. Of course, in this age with all the excitement garnered via video games, a couple loose bears might not have quite the drawing power as in times past.

Make A Difference and Feel Better About Yourself 

     I know there are many people out there who suffer from a feeling of low self-esteem. They feel they have nothing to offer and that they are not contributing to the general wellbeing of themselves, their immediate families, or society in general. This leads to a general feeling of discontent and depression. 
      After reading a report by Danial Uria I may have an answer for some of these people. The National Park Service in Los Angeles is looking for volunteers to help examine coyote poop. 
     The reason? There is a lot of conjecture as to what urban coyotes eat, including the rumors that these sly creatures are eating unattended pets, but no one knows for sure. By collecting and studying the coyote poop, the Park Service is finally going to settle the issue once and for all. Won’t that be nice? I know I’ll sleep better at night knowing the answer. 
     I see this as a great opportunity for people who feel that they are not contributing to get involved, get their hands dirty, and make a difference. The therapeutic value of their involvement could be considerable. 
     Then again, if just thinking about this therapy has made you realize that your feelings of discontent and depression are already less than you thought, and you’ve suddenly thought of a dozen other things you could be doing to make you feel better about yourself, then forget the whole thing.

A Talent? 
     I’ve decided that I have a talent, but am not sure how to benefit either myself or others without being a major nuisance or getting arrested. 
      The talent is this. When approaching the checkout area of just about any kind of store, and having the choice of a number of lines to use in checking out, I invariably choose the one that will be the slowest in the store. I’ve not studied to enhance this unique ability or practiced to hone what has to be a natural talent. 
      An example: Last week I decided to leave Fred Meyers, and not being into shoplifting, looked at the ten checkout lanes to see which would get me out the quickest. All the lanes had carts backed out into the aisle, except for one, which had one lady just paying for her purchases, and another lady ready to get checked out. 
    Picking that lane was a no brainer, which some might say could explain my problem. I unloaded my stuff on the moving counter, and waited. For some reason I checked my watch to see how I was progressing with my day’s plan.     The checkout clerk was not really slow, but neither was she the fastest clerk I had seen operate. And I don’t know how much of her problems were dictated by her equipment. I’m talking about the scanner and computer, not her mental acuity. 
    Just one of the things that ate up an inordinate amount of time was the reading of probably eighteen coupons the lady in front of me presented near the close of her transaction. The checkout clerk held each coupon over the scanner, and then checked the computer to see if it had been recognized. None of them were read on the first, second, or usually the third try. She then tried slapping each coupon face down on the reader, thinking that maybe the shock would get the scanners attention. This worked on about one out of five coupons. 
    Her next ploy was to stand back from the scanner, then suddenly leap forward, waving the coupon quickly over the glass surface. Surprisingly this seemed to work most of the time. Other shoppers stopped to see why this lady was repeatedly backing off then lunging at her scanner. I’m sure she had some fencing experience in her background because she was rather graceful in her sneak attacks. 
     The last coupon to get offered was for a gallon of milk. When the computer refused to recognize the coupon, despite all the clerks innovative efforts, a troubleshooter was called in to determine the problem. It turned out that the shopper had picked up the wrong kind of milk, so a flunky was sent off for the right kind. 
    After all the equipment problems, the lady shopper had to be convinced that what the computer said she owed was accurate, and after watching the whole performance I couldn’t fault her for that. That took up more time. 
    As I was leaving the checkout area with my purchases, I again looked at my watch, and was surprised that only twenty minutes had passed. Without my watch, I would have guessed it to be closer to one and one-half days. 
     So what do I do with this natural talent for picking the slowest checkout lane in just about any store? I’m still working on that.