The First Responder

Thursday, January 6, 2005 January 2005   VOLUME III ISSUE 8  

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Special Edition: FY05 DHS Grant Programs
January 6, 2005
Vol. III
December 2004
December 15, 2004
Vol. 3 Issue 8
November 2004
November 15, 2004
Vol. III Issue 7
October 2004
October 13, 2004
Vol. 3 Issue 6
September 2004
September 9, 2004
Vol. 111 Issue 5
August 2004
August 30, 2004
Vol. III Issue 4
July 2004
July 21, 2004
Vol. III Issue 3
June 2004
June 23, 2004
Vol. 3 Issue 2
May 2004
May 18, 2004
Vol. 3 Issue 1
April 2004
April 20, 2004
Vol. 2 Issue 12
March 2004
March 16, 2004
Vol. 2 Issue 11
February 2004
February 17, 2004
Vol. 2 Issue 10
January 2004
January 16, 2004
Vol. 2 Issue 9
December 2003
December 16, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 8
November 2003
November 17, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 7
October 2003
October 20, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 6
September 2003
September 17, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 5
August 2003
August 15, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 4
July 2003
July 15, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 3
June 2003
June 17, 2003
Vol. 2 Issue 2

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Just What The Doctor Ordered
good humor for a new year

MAGICIAN AND PARROT

A magician was working on a cruise ship in the Caribbean.  The audience would be different each week, so the magician allowed himself to do the same tricks over and over again.

There was only one problem:  The captain’s parrot saw the shows each week and began to understand how the magician did every trick.  Once he understood he started shouting in the middle of the show:


“Look, it’s not the same hat.”


"Look, he is hiding the flowers under the table.”


“Hey, why are all the cards the Ace of Spades?”


The magician was furious but couldn’t do anything; it was, after all, the captain’s parrot.


One day the ship had an accident and sank.  The magician found himself floating on a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean, with the parrot, of course.  They stared at each other with hate, but did not utter a word.  This went on for a day, and another, and another.


After a week the parrot said:  “OK, I give up.  Where’s the boat?”


MEN ARE FROM SEARS, WOMEN ARE FROM NORDSTROM 
                                                                                                Dave Barry

I believe that, in general, women are saner than men.  For example, if you see people who have paid good money to stand in an outdoor stadium on a freezing December day wearing nothing on the upper halves of their bodies except paint, those people will be male.


Without males, there would be no such sport as professional lawn mower racing.  Also, there would be a 100 percent decline in the annual number of deaths related to efforts to shoot beer cans off of heads.  Also, if women were in charge of all the world’s nations, there would be, I sincerely believe this, virtually no military conflicts, and if there were a military conflict, everybody involved would feel just awful and there would soon be a high-level exchange of thoughtful notes written on greeting cards with flowers on the front, followed by a Peace Luncheon (which would be salads, with the dressing on the side.)


So I sincerely believe that women are wiser than men, with the exception of one key area, and that area is:  clothing sizes.  In this particular area, women are insane.


When a man shops for clothes, his primary objective is to purchase clothes that fit on his particular body.  A man will try on a pair of pants, and if those pants are too small, he’ll try on a larger pair, and when he finds a pair that fits, he buys them.  Most men do not spend a lot of time fretting about the size of the pants.  Many men wear jeans with the size printed right on the back label, so that if you’re standing behind a man in a super market line, you can read his waist and inseam size.  A man could have, say, a 52-inch waist and a 30-inch inseam, and his label will proudly display this information, which is basically the same thing as having a sign that says:  “Howdy!  My butt is the size of a Federal Express truck!  The situation is very different with women.


When a woman shops for clothes, her primary objective is NOT to find clothes that fit her particular body.  She would like for that to be the case, but her primary objective is to purchase clothes that are the size she wore when she was 19 years old.  This will be some arbitrary number such a “5” or “7”.  Don’t ask me “5” or “7” of what; that questions has baffled scientists for centuries.  All I know is that if a woman was a size 5 at age 19, she wants to be a size 5 now, and if a size 5 outfit does not fit her, she will not move on to the a larger size:  She can’t!  Her size is 5!  So she will keep trying on size 5 items, and unless they start fitting her, she will become extremely unhappy.  She may take this unhappiness out on her husband, who is waiting patiently in the mall, perhaps browsing in the Sharper Image store, trying to think of how he could justify purchasing a pair of night-vision binoculars.  “Hi!” he’ll say, when his wife finds him.  “You know how sometimes the electricity goes out at night and…”   

“Am I fat?” she’ll ask, cutting him off.  This is a very bad situation for the man, because if he answers “yes,” she’ll be angry because he’s saying that she’s fat, and if he answers “no,” she’ll be angry because HE’S OBVIOUSLY LYING BECAUSE NONE OF THE SIZE 5‘s FIT HER!


There is no escape for the husband.  I think a lot of unexplained disappearances occur because guys in malls see their wives unsuccessfully trying on outfits, and they realize their lives will be easier if, before their wives come out and demand to know whether they’re fat, the guys just run off and join a UFO cult. 


The other day my wife, Michelle, was in a terrific mood, and you know why?  Because she had successfully put on a size 6 outfit.  She said this made her feel wonderful.  She said, and this s a direct quote:  “I wouldn’t care if these pants were this big (here she held her arms far apart) as long as they have a ‘6’ on them.”


Here’s how you can get rich:  Start a women’s clothing store called “SIZE 2,” in which all garments, including those that were originally intended to be restaurant awnings, had labels with the words “SIZE 2.”  I bet you’d sell clothes like crazy.  You’d probably get rich, and you could retire, maybe take up some philanthropic activity to benefit humanity.  I’m thinking here of professional lawn mower racing.



MISCHIEVOUS BOYS

There were two brothers, 8 and 10 years old, who were exceedingly mischievous.  Whatever went wrong in the neighborhood, it would turn out that they had a hand in it.   Their parents were at their wits’ end trying to control them.  Hearing about a priest nearby who worked with delinquent boys, the mother suggested to the father that they ask the priest to talk with the boys.  The father agreed.


The mother went to the priest and made her request.  He agreed, but said he wanted to see the younger boy first and alone.  So the mother sent him to the priest.


The priest sat the boy down across a huge, impressive desk he sat behind.  For about five minutes they just sat and stared at each other.  Finally, the priest pointed his forefinger at the boy and asked, “Where is God?”


The boy looked under the desk, in the corners of the room, all around, but said nothing.


Again, louder, the priest pointed at the boy and asked, “Where is God?”


Again the boy looked all around but said nothing.  A third time, in a louder, firmer voice, the priest leaned far across the desk and put his forefinger almost to the boy’s nose, and asked, “Where is God?”


The boy panicked and ran all the way home.  Finding his older brother, he dragged him upstairs to their room and into the closet, where they usually plotted their mischief.  He finally said, “We are in BIG trouble.”


The older boy asked, “What do you mean, BIG trouble?”


His brother replied, “God is missing and they think we did it.”



LAZY EMPLOYEE

The owner of a large factory decided to make a surprise visit and check up on his staff.  Walking through the plant, he noticed a young man leaning lazily against a post.


“Just how much are you being paid a week?” said the owner angrily.


“Three hundred bucks,” replied the young man.


Taking out a fold of bills from his wallet, the owner counted out $300, slapped the money into the boy’s hands and said, “Here’s a week’s pay – now get out and don’t come back!”


Turning to one of the supervisors, he said, “How long has that lazy bum been working here anyway?”


“He’s not an employee,” said the supervisor.  “He was just here to deliver a pizza!”



WYOMING WEATHER

You know you’re from or in Wyoming when:

    Your summer wardrobe includes a windbreaker and long pants.

    You’ve ever returned a windbreaker to the store for “false advertising.”


    You use a motorcycle jacket as a windbreaker.


    Your outdoor Christmas lights explode when plugged in.


    You think anyone who drives with less than a half a tank of gas is crazy.


    Driving through six inches of snow is no problem.


    Lukewarm McDonald’s french fries show up on infrared radar.


    You don’t put on gloves ever though it is –10 degrees F.

 
    You thought people in the movie ‘The Day After Tomorrow’ were total wimps.


How to tell if the weather is bad in Wyoming:


Highway 287 and US Highway 30 are both closed.

A strong wind advisory is in effect.

The State Transportation Department plows city streets.

Pets kill their owners and use the carcasses to keep warm.

One-story buildings sway in the wind.

Cows tunnel for shelter.

An alert siren sounds.

Weather forecasters lose their jovial tone.

The birds migrate to Canada.

Your full tank of gas freezes.

It’s an average day in Wyoming when:


The wind scours paint from you car.

The wind pushes your car into another lane of traffic.

Your hair freezes even though you took a shower over an hour ago.

You keep your cold drinks on the windowsill.

You store ice cream in the back yard, in full sunlight.


THE MINISTER’S DENTURES

The minister had just had all of his remaining teeth pulled and new dentures were being made.

The first Sunday after the surgery, he only preached for 10 minutes.

The second Sunday he preached only 20 minutes.

But, on the third Sunday he preached for 1 hour 25 minutes.


When asked about this by some of the congregation, he responded this way:  “The first Sunday, my gums were so sore it hurt to talk.  The second Sunday, my dentures were still hurting a lot.  The third Sunday, I accidentally grabbed my wife’s dentures and I couldn’t stop talking!”

LAND HO!

A New Orleans lawyer sought an FHA (Federal Housing Administration) loan for a client.  He was told that the loan would be granted if he could prove satisfactory title to property offered as collateral.  The title dated back to 1803, and he had to spend three months running it down.

After sending the information to FHA, he got this reply:  “We received your letter today enclosing application for loan for your client, supported by abstract of title.  Let us compliment you on the able manner in which you prepared and presented the application.  However, you have not cleared the title before the year 1802, and therefore, before final approval can be accorded the application, it will be necessary that the title be cleared back of that year.


Annoyed, the lawyer replied:  “Your letter regarding titles in Case No. 189156 received.  I note that you wish titles extended further back than I have presented them.  I was unaware that any educated man in the world failed to know that Louisiana was purchased from France in 1803.  The title to the land was acquired by France by right of conquest from Spain.  The land came into possession of Spain by right of discovery made in 1492 by a sailor named Christopher Columbus, who had been granted the privilege of seeking a new route to India by the then reigning monarch, Isabella.  The good queen, being a pious woman and careful about titles, almost as much I might say, as the FHA, took the precaution of securing the blessing of the Pope for the voyage before she sold her jewels to help Columbus.  Now the Pope, as you know, is the emissary of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and God, it is commonly accepted, made the world.  Therefore, I believe it is safe to presume that He also made that part of the world called Louisiana, and I hope you are satisfied.”



MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME

An airline pilot was scheduled to take a flight from New York to Los Angeles.  The weather was too bad in New York to allow his usual on time departure.  The weather in New York finally cleared and the pilot asked for his departure clearance.  He was very dismayed to hear that he had another delay due to the increased traffic now leaving New York.

Sometime later he finally received his clearance and decided he would try to make up the time lost by asking for a direct route to Los Angeles.  Halfway across the country he was told to turn due South.  Knowing that this turn would now throw him further behind schedule he inquired, quite agitated, to the controller for the reason for the turn off course.  The controller replied that the turn was for noise abatement.


The pilot was infuriated and said to the controller, “Look buddy, I am already way behind schedule with all the delays you guys have given me today.  I really don’t see how I could be causing a noise problem for pedestrians when I am over 6 miles above the earth!”


The controller answered in a calm voice, “Apparently, Captain, you have never heard two 747’s collide!”


LAWS OF CAT PHYSICS

LAW OF CAT INERTIA – A cat at rest will tend to remain at rest, unless acted upon by some outside force, such as the opening of cat food, or a nearby scurrying mouse.


LAW OF CAT MOTION – A cat will move in a straight line, unless there is a really good reason to change direction.


LAW OF CAT THERMODYNAMICS – Heat flows from a warmer to a cooler body, except in the case of a cat, all heat flows to the cat.


FIRST LAW OF CAT ENERGY CONSERVATION – Cats know that energy can neither be created nor destroyed and will, therefore, use as little energy as possible.


LAW OF BAG/BOX OCCUPANCY – All bags and boxes in a given room must contain a cat within the earliest possible nanosecond.


LAW OF FURNITURE REPLACEMENT – A cat’s desire to scratch furniture is directly proportional to the cost of the furniture.


LAW OF PILL REJECTION – Any pill given to a cat has potential energy to reach escape velocity.

LAW OF CAT COMPOSITION – A cat is compose of Matter + Anti-matter + It Doesn’t Matter.

LAW OF SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM – Given enough time, a cat will land in just about any space.

LAW OF CAT OBEDIENCE – As yet undiscovered.



A LETTER TO THE F.A.A.


I was asked to make a written statement concerning certain events that occurred yesterday.  First of all, I would like to thank that very nice FAA man who took my student pilot’s license and told me I wouldn’t need it any more.  I guess that means that you’re giving me my full-fledged pilot’s license.  You should watch that fellow though, after I told him all of this he seemed quite nervous and his hand was shaking.  Anyway, here is what happened.

The weather had been kind of bad since last week, when I soloed.  But on the day in question I was not about to let low ceiling and visibility and a slight freezing drizzle deter me from another exciting experience at the controls of an airplane.  I was pretty proud of my accomplishment, and I had invited my neighbor to go with me since I planned to fly to a town about two hundred miles away where I knew of an excellent restaurant that served absolutely wonderful charbroiled steaks and the greatest martinis.


On the way to the airport my neighbor was a little concerned about the weather, but I assured him once again about the steaks and martinis that we would soon be enjoying and he seemed much happier.


When we arrived at the airport the freezing drizzle had stopped, as I already knew from my ground school meteorology it would.  There were only a few snowflakes.  I checked the weather and I was assured that it was solid IFR.  I was delighted.  But when I talked to the local operator, I found out that my regular airplane, a Piper J-3 Cub, was down for repairs.  You could imagine my disappointment.  Just then a friendly, intelligent line-boy suggested that I take another airplane, which I immediately saw was very sleek and looked much easier to fly.  I think that he called it an Aztec C, also made by Piper.  It didn’t have a tail wheel, but I didn’t say anything because I was in a hurry.  Oh yes, it had a spare engine for some reason.


We climbed in and I began looking for an ignition switch.  Now, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but it shouldn’t be necessary to get the airplane manual just to find out how to start an airplane.  That’s ridiculous.  I never saw so many dials and needles and knobs, handles and switches.  As we both know, confidentially, they have simplified this in the J-3 Cub.  I forgot to mention that I did file a flight plan, and those people were so nice.  When I told them I was flying an Aztec, they said it was all right to go direct via Victor-435, a local superhighway, all the way.  These fellows deserve a lot of credit.  They told me a lot of other things too. But everybody has problems with red tape.


The take-off was one of my best and I carefully left the pattern just the way the book says it should be done.  The tower operator told me to contact Departure Control Radar, but that seemed kind of silly since I knew where I was going.  There must have been some kind of emergency because, all of a sudden, a lot airline pilots began yelling at the same time and made such a racket that I just turned off the radio.  You’d think that those professionals would be better trained.  Anyway, I climbed up into a few little flat clouds, cumulus type, at three hundred feet, but Highway 435 was right under me and, since I knew it was straight east to the town where we were going to have drinks and dinner, I just went on up into the solid overcast.  After all, it was snowing so hard by now that it was a waste of time to watch the ground.  This was a bad thing to do, I realized.  My neighbor undoubtedly wanted to see the scenery, especially the mountains all around us, but everybody has to be disappointed sometime and we pilots have to make the best of it, don’t we?


It was pretty smooth flying and, except for the ice that seemed to be forming here and there, especially on the windshield, there wasn’t much to see.  I will say that I handled the controls quite easily for a pilot with only six hours.  My computer and pencils fell out of my shirt picket once in a while, but these phenomena sometimes occur, I am told.  I don’t expect you to believe this but my pocket watch was standing straight up on its chain.  That was pretty funny and I asked my neighbor to look but he just kept staring straight ahead with sort of a glassy look in his eyes and I figured that he was afraid of heights like all non-pilots are.  By the way, something was wrong with the altimeter, it kept winding and unwinding all the time.


Finally, I decided we had flown about long enough to be where we were going, since I had worked it out on the computer.  I am a whiz at that computer, but something must have gone wrong with it since when I came down to look for the airport, there wasn’t anything there except mountains.  These weather people sure had been wrong, too.  It was real marginal conditions with a ceiling of about one hundred feet.  You just can’t trust anybody in this business except yourself, right?  Why, there were even thunderstorms going on with occasional bolts of lightning.  I decided that my neighbor would see how beautiful it was and the way it seemed to turn that fog all yellow, but I guess he was asleep, having gotten over his fear of heights, and I didn’t want to wake him up.  I had just read the manual and I knew right where the other ignition switch was.  I just fired up the other engine and we kept right on going.  This business of having two engines is really a safety factor.  If one quits the other is right there ready to go.  Maybe all airplanes should have two engines.  You might look into this.


As pilot in command, I take my responsibilities very seriously.  It was apparent that I would have to go down lower and keep a sharp eye in such bad weather.  I was glad my neighbor was asleep because it was pretty dark under the clouds and if it hadn’t been for the lightning flashes it would have been hard to navigate.  Also, it was hard to read road signs through the ice on the windshield.  Several cars ran off the road when we passed and you sure see what they mean about flying being a lot safer than driving.


To make a long story short, I finally spotted an airport that I knew right away was pretty close to town and, since we were already late for cocktails and dinner, I decided to land there.  It was an Air Force Base so I knew it had plenty of runway and I could already see a lot of colored lights flashing in the control tower so I knew that we were welcome.  Somebody had told me that you could always talk to these military people on the international emergency frequency, so I tried it but you wouldn’t believe the language that I hear.  These people ought to be straightened out by somebody and I would like to complain as a taxpayer.  Evidently, they were expecting somebody to come in and land because they kept talking about some dang stupid idiot up in that fog.  I wanted to be helpful, so I landed on the ramp to be out of the way in case that other fellow needed the runway.  A lot of people came running out waving at us.  It was pretty evident that they had never seen an Aztec C before.  One fellow, some general with a pretty nasty temper, was real mad about something.  I tried to explain to him in a reasonable manner that I didn’t think the tower operator should be swearing at that guy up there, but his face was so red that I think he must have a drinking problem.


Well, that’s about all.  I caught a bus back home because the weather really got bad, but my neighbor stayed at the hospital there.  He can’t make a statement yet because he’s still not awake.  Poor fellow, he must have the flu, or something.


Let me know if you need anything else, and please send my new license airmail, special delivery.


Very Truly Yours,


Bob “Ace” White


KIDS AND CLICHES

A teacher of 4th graders thought as a fun assignment, to give the students the beginning of a list of famous sayings and have them provide the original endings for each one.  Here are some examples of what the students submitted.


The grass is always greener when you leave the sprinkler on.


A rolling stone pays the guitar.


The grass is always greener when you remember to water it.


A bird in the hand is a real mess.


No news is no newspaper.


It’s better to light a candle than waste electricity.


It’s always darkest just before I open my eyes.


You have nothing to fear but homework.


If you can’t stand the heat, go swimming.


Never put off ‘til tomorrow what you should have done yesterday.


A penny save is nothing in the real world.


The squeaking wheel gets annoying.


We have nothing to fear but our principal.


To err is human.  To eat a muskrat is not.


I think, therefore I get a headache.


Laugh and the world laughs with you.  Cry, and some yells, “Shut up!”


Better to light a candle than to light an explosive.


It’s always darkest before 9:30 p.m.


Early to bed and early to rise is first in the bathroom.


A journey of a thousand miles begins with a blister.


There is nothing new under the bed.


The grass is always greener when you put manure on it.


Don’t count your chickens – it takes too long.


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