This is utterly diguesting and completely repulsive. How do such animals exist?
Torture Death Shocks Illinois Town
By JIM SUHR, Associated Press Writer
Posted on Mar 22, 1:16 AM EDT
ALTON, Ill. (AP) -- Banished to the basement, the 29-year-old mother with a childlike mind and another baby on the way had little more than a thin rug and a mattress to call her own on the chilly concrete floor.
Dorothy Dixon ate what she could forage from the refrigerator upstairs, where prosecutors say housemates used her for target practice with BBs, burned her with a glue gun and doused her with scalding liquid that peeled away her skin.
They torched what few clothes she had, authorities say, so she walked around naked. They often pummeled her with an aluminum bat or metal handle.
Dixon - six months pregnant - died after weeks of abuse. Police have charged two adults, three teenagers and a 12-year-old boy with murder in the case that has repulsed many in this Mississippi River town.
"This is heartbreaking," police Lt. David Hayes said. "It was almost as though they were making fun of the abuse they were administering. This woman was almost like living in a prison."
Investigators put much of the blame on Michelle Riley, 35, who they said befriended Dixon but pocketed monthly Social Security checks she got because of her developmental delays.
Dixon saw little, if any, of the money, Hayes said. For months she weathered the torment to keep a roof over her head and that of her year-old son, who weighed just 15 pounds when taken into state custody after his mom's death.
"I've never seen an almost conspiratorial effort by a group of people to continuously torture someone until she finally died, then not really show any remorse," Hayes said. "It was just a slow, torturous, tragic way to die. I highly doubt Dorothy Dixon even knew she was dying."
Riley, 43-year-old Judy Woods and three teenagers, including Riley's 15-year-old daughter, LeShelle McBride, are charged with first-degree murder, aggravated and heinous battery, intentional homicide of an unborn child, and unlawful restraint. Riley's 12-year-old son is charged as a juvenile.
Riley, her daughter, Woods and 16-year-old Benny Wilson have public defenders who did not immediately return messages for comment. An 18-year-old defendant, Michael Elliott, planned to get his own attorney, court records show.
All remain in jail on $1 million bond.
Messages left with a Chicago-area sister of Dixon went unreturned, but neighbors, Hayes and newspaper accounts offer a mosaic of the months leading to Dixon's demise inside the small, white, blue-shuttered house.
Riley and Dixon, police said, had lived in Quincy, a Mississippi River town about 100 miles north of St. Louis, Mo. Quincy is where Riley worked as a coordinator for a regional center that helps the developmentally disabled with housing and other services. Dixon was a client.
For years, an impoverished Riley struggled raising her children. Her use of methamphetamine and cocaine brought drug convictions in 2002 and 2004. But with treatment and housing help from the Quincy YWCA, Riley put her life in order - so much that in February of last year, the Quincy Herald-Whig did a story on her comeback.
Last summer, Dixon and Riley moved into the $800-a-month, three-bedroom rental in Alton about 15 miles north of St. Louis. From the start, neighbors Chad Hudson and Terri Brandt considered Riley trouble.
"Michelle was evil, vindictive. Manipulative," said Hudson, convinced the teenagers were Riley's powerless minions.
"She was angry, vicious," added Brandt.
Riley considered Dixon her slave, making her rub Riley's feet until Riley fell asleep and forcing her to run naked around the house when she got in trouble, the neighbors said.
"Being in their house was like being in a prison day room," Hudson said. "They just sat around the kitchen table and fought."
There was little question that Riley ruled the roost.
While doing fix-ups on the home last fall, landlord Steve Atkins saw Riley "barking orders" at the children and everyone else. Atkins joked to her whether he needed to call the Army and see if they wanted their drill sergeant back.
"She didn't laugh about it at all," Atkins said. "Obviously, I hit a nerve."
Atkins said Dixon generally kept to herself "but was always nice when she spoke to you." He saw no hints she'd been suffering or tortured.
"I would have never, ever suspected something like this," he said. "It's definitely shocking."
Police said Dixon was allowed out of the house but didn't say under what conditions. Hayes didn't know who the father of Dixon's fetus is.
Hayes said things apparently came to a head Jan. 30, when investigators believe that Woods, during a dispute, beat Dixon on the head with an object Hayes wouldn't identify. The next day Woods found her dead.
Hayes watched the autopsy and found her injuries disturbing. X-rays revealed roughly 30 BBs lodged in her. Deep-tissue burns covered about one-third of her body - her face, her chest, her arms and feet - and left her severely dehydrated. Her face and body showed signs of prolonged abuse. Many of her wounds were infected.
None of the injuries, Hayes said, proved singly fatal to Dixon. Her system already was taxed by her unborn baby.
"The autopsy sort of indicates her immune system just shut down," he said. "It was not capable of fending off any more."
In the rental home's basement, Atkins said, he found spots of blood in a shower and tiny smears on the concrete floor, washer and dryer.
"It's disgraceful the way this girl died, as kind and as sweet as this girl was," he said. "She didn't deserve to die the way she did. It's just terrible, senseless. It's just a total shame."
25.3.08
Highway Robbery
For those of you stateside or those that have credit cards based out of US Banks, how close do you look at your statements? For those with US based bank accounts, how closely do you review your statements? In the past 3 months, I have been charged fees of $20.00, $20.00, $39.00, $39.00, $3.78, $15.00, $2.54, $39.00, $5.46, $50.00, $25.00, and $25.00 through no fault of my own. These charges have been assessed onto my accounts that have been open for many, many years. What gives? They say the accounts that prevent these service fees were not linked or the payment was received after 5:00 pm.
In the case of my bank, in order to for them to waive fees you must maintain minimum monthly balances. They said I was assessed the fees for the past few months because the accounts were unlinked. I was like let’s get this right, these accounts in the past 3 years have not changed….the direct deposit is the same, the withdrawal methods the same, the type of account the same…but all of a sudden I did something to cause the fees to begin being assessed. Give me a break! A 10 minute phone call and they credited me back the fees. “Oops”, was all I got. What if I haven’t noticed? A few days work goes to Chase for no reason. Then my other bank, on my loan, for the past year there has been no service fee…all of a sudden this year they charge me one. I didn’t notice for the first 2 months of the year as I just shred the envelope without even opening it! But I “accidentally” opened the March statement and there was a balance of $100.00, for a loan service fee and late fees. They refuse to help over the phone and I was unable to make it to the branch in person until a few days ago. “Oops” was all I got there as well. And to make it worse, they charged me $25.00 late fee for each January and February. If I didn’t open the envelope, then I would have paid $350.00 extra this year without even realizing it.
Now on to the credit cards….. I pay all my bills online either through electronic transfer or online bill pay. But if I forget until the day before or the day they are due, then even though I pay the minimum amount due, they don’t process it until after 5:00pm. By that time they have already assessed a late fee because it wasn’t received by 5:00pm on the due date. I mean for a few hours they are charging me $39.00 or $15.00 late fee as well as finance charges. This is pure highway robbery! I try to fight the charges usually or make a note to remind myself to pay earlier. Worse case I yell and *(#&$ and threaten to take my business elsewhere. In the past they relented, but they don’t care anymore…they are making so much money off late fees, finance charges, service fees, loan refinancing on their old customers that they don’t need new ones.
So if you are like me and don’t always have time to read every line of your statement, let this serve as a warning to start. We are getting fleeced by these banks….and if you don’t catch it, you’re giving them free money and if you do, well all you’ll get is an “oops”. I hate banks!
In the case of my bank, in order to for them to waive fees you must maintain minimum monthly balances. They said I was assessed the fees for the past few months because the accounts were unlinked. I was like let’s get this right, these accounts in the past 3 years have not changed….the direct deposit is the same, the withdrawal methods the same, the type of account the same…but all of a sudden I did something to cause the fees to begin being assessed. Give me a break! A 10 minute phone call and they credited me back the fees. “Oops”, was all I got. What if I haven’t noticed? A few days work goes to Chase for no reason. Then my other bank, on my loan, for the past year there has been no service fee…all of a sudden this year they charge me one. I didn’t notice for the first 2 months of the year as I just shred the envelope without even opening it! But I “accidentally” opened the March statement and there was a balance of $100.00, for a loan service fee and late fees. They refuse to help over the phone and I was unable to make it to the branch in person until a few days ago. “Oops” was all I got there as well. And to make it worse, they charged me $25.00 late fee for each January and February. If I didn’t open the envelope, then I would have paid $350.00 extra this year without even realizing it.
Now on to the credit cards….. I pay all my bills online either through electronic transfer or online bill pay. But if I forget until the day before or the day they are due, then even though I pay the minimum amount due, they don’t process it until after 5:00pm. By that time they have already assessed a late fee because it wasn’t received by 5:00pm on the due date. I mean for a few hours they are charging me $39.00 or $15.00 late fee as well as finance charges. This is pure highway robbery! I try to fight the charges usually or make a note to remind myself to pay earlier. Worse case I yell and *(#&$ and threaten to take my business elsewhere. In the past they relented, but they don’t care anymore…they are making so much money off late fees, finance charges, service fees, loan refinancing on their old customers that they don’t need new ones.
So if you are like me and don’t always have time to read every line of your statement, let this serve as a warning to start. We are getting fleeced by these banks….and if you don’t catch it, you’re giving them free money and if you do, well all you’ll get is an “oops”. I hate banks!
23.3.08
Rock Band
My mom signed me up to play the clarinet in 4th and 5th grade. I was really, really pathetic. No rhythm, no beat and definitely no soul. I just sucked at it. Whenever there was a concert performance for the parents, the instructor asked that my parents keep me home. I am glad he did, as I would have ruined the whole concert, not by just playing of beat, but I probably would have clumsily knocked over all the music stands and taken a few my fellow musicians down with me. But I never let that bad experience sway me away from wanting to become a musician...and I always imagined being in heavy metal band rocking and rolling while the mosh pit in front of me went crazy with lunatics. I was definitely born to rock and roll! Don't tell me you you've never played the air guitar or imagined your pencils as drum sticks and hit a few beats on you desk!
I never picked up another instrument since my beloved clarinet, that is until this past weekend. I got to play both the drums and guitar....and hot damn I was playing with the best of the best, rocking and rolling and even becoming the lead singer for Nirvana!! Can you imagine?!?!?! Too bad it was in my basement...and the only one enjoying it was me. My band mates booed me and XBOX threatened to self destruct, if I didn't stop right then and there.
If you haven't played RockBand, you seriously have been missing out. What a swwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeettttttttttt game. Here are some pictures of last Saturday night when we "Rocked da house"! "We" is used here to me everyone else except me...they told me I could be the manager and promoter, a role I happily accepted after seeing myself on camera.
I never picked up another instrument since my beloved clarinet, that is until this past weekend. I got to play both the drums and guitar....and hot damn I was playing with the best of the best, rocking and rolling and even becoming the lead singer for Nirvana!! Can you imagine?!?!?! Too bad it was in my basement...and the only one enjoying it was me. My band mates booed me and XBOX threatened to self destruct, if I didn't stop right then and there.
If you haven't played RockBand, you seriously have been missing out. What a swwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeettttttttttt game. Here are some pictures of last Saturday night when we "Rocked da house"! "We" is used here to me everyone else except me...they told me I could be the manager and promoter, a role I happily accepted after seeing myself on camera.
Mensaf
Call me what you like but I really don't care for mensaf too much. Sometimes I refuse to eat it, other times I will just have a little. Of course my favorite part of it are the toasted nuts on it, snobar (pine nuts) and almonds! I always request my own little bowl be toasted...even when invited to dinner at others homes...yep, I'm not too shy to have my own requests. There were only a few of us this evening for mensaf so we didn't go all out with the serving tray overflowing. There was just enough, so that we wouldn't have left overs. Enjoy the pictures...
21.3.08
RIP Officer Morelli
Today as I was working out at the gym enjoying the NCAA Tournament, I saw the breaking news ticker at the bottom of the screen..Officer Shot....and my heart sank. We run this risk every time we dress in our blues and put on that shiny badge. But unfortunately he didn't make it. DOA. I didn't find out until later that he had sadly passed away, or else the fitness center would have seen my embarrasig reaction. He was only 38 years old and had spent the last 11 years as an officer and has survive a brush with death in December.
Today his name will forever be etched into a memorial for fallen heroes so that generations will come to know about his love for serving and protecting. And his name will be among those of fallen heroes read in Washington D.C. in few months.
Today we lost one of the good guys, one of our own, and one of my brothers. I have never heard his name prior today and may I, those who served alongside him and especially those who he served, never forget his name after today.
Officer Morelli, End of Watch, March 21, 2008.
Today his name will forever be etched into a memorial for fallen heroes so that generations will come to know about his love for serving and protecting. And his name will be among those of fallen heroes read in Washington D.C. in few months.
Today we lost one of the good guys, one of our own, and one of my brothers. I have never heard his name prior today and may I, those who served alongside him and especially those who he served, never forget his name after today.
Officer Morelli, End of Watch, March 21, 2008.
The Main Course
Is Spring going to make an early debut? Not by the look of those skies:
But the real reason for this post is the food we cooked. I can still smell it cooking......
Plenty of Veggies:
Ready to go in the oven:
Four Hours later:
It's Time:
Rice to go along with it:
My Plate:
Sorry there's none left for you....maybe next time!
But the real reason for this post is the food we cooked. I can still smell it cooking......
Plenty of Veggies:
Ready to go in the oven:
Four Hours later:
It's Time:
Rice to go along with it:
My Plate:
Sorry there's none left for you....maybe next time!
20.3.08
Can’t Prepare For This...
A few weeks back, we were out on patrol. Contrary to what the newspapers say, the areas we patrol for the most part are safe. Our primary function on the midnight shift is doing property checks, mostly between 3am and 6am when there are very few cars on the road. If we’re unlucky enough to be assigned patrol in the area of multi million dollars homes it sure is deadly……..boring. (Gotcha!) So usually there’s not much to do except drive around and make sure our taxpayers and their property are safe. So on this night we are patrolling the parking lots, where many GPS devices are being stolen from cars as people shop, checking things out and maintaining a visible presence. (Here’s a public service announcement for my readers: if you have own a portable GPS and store it in your car, 1. don’t leave it in plain sight, 2. don’t leave the mounting bracket on the dashboard or stuck on the windshield, and 3. don’t leave the cord out in plain sight or worse leave it plugged in and the cord leading into the center console...the burglar doesn’t need to have more than a third grade education to find it by following the path of the cord). There have been upwards of 2 calls per day of these GPS devices being stolen…in our quiet neck of the woods in daylight and in jammed packed parking lots, so it’s much worse other places you can be sure of that!
So anyways, we’re driving around and just checking things out. We see a car with its lights on and being the helpful police officers that we are, go to see how we can assist. Of course we always follow protocol: on the radio we broadcast our location, description of the vehicle and license plate number….just in case the stuff hits the fan. It comes back valid. We were just going to take the license number down and just go into the store to make an announcement. I then noticed that the trunk was not shut completely and that sparked my interest…so I get out and take a look. And you would never believe what I saw. It was an older car, from the 1970 and had one of those seats that go from one side of the car to the other, you know, so that three people can sit side by side in the front...we call em bench seats. Well, it was a cold 27°F night and this guy was sleeping in his car. I wouldn’t be alarmed by this, maybe he was on a long trip…but he was using cardboard to cover himself from the cold. The back seat was filled with a bunch of junk. I had no doubt he was homeless. So as I felt my heart sink, I start thinking out loud. Do we wake him up and tell him to turn his lights off, thereby saving him the panic of staring his car in the morning or worse having to buy a new battery, which probably he couldn’t afford. Do we open the car door and turn the lights off without waking him and risk getting into trouble for that…remember we are cops and we could be wrongly accused of doing improper things, even if we had the welfare of the person in mind when we did it. In the end, we just left him. There were no laws being broken, but my heart sure was breaking, thinking of this poor guy in the morning, cursing himself for leaving the lights on.
So anyways, we’re driving around and just checking things out. We see a car with its lights on and being the helpful police officers that we are, go to see how we can assist. Of course we always follow protocol: on the radio we broadcast our location, description of the vehicle and license plate number….just in case the stuff hits the fan. It comes back valid. We were just going to take the license number down and just go into the store to make an announcement. I then noticed that the trunk was not shut completely and that sparked my interest…so I get out and take a look. And you would never believe what I saw. It was an older car, from the 1970 and had one of those seats that go from one side of the car to the other, you know, so that three people can sit side by side in the front...we call em bench seats. Well, it was a cold 27°F night and this guy was sleeping in his car. I wouldn’t be alarmed by this, maybe he was on a long trip…but he was using cardboard to cover himself from the cold. The back seat was filled with a bunch of junk. I had no doubt he was homeless. So as I felt my heart sink, I start thinking out loud. Do we wake him up and tell him to turn his lights off, thereby saving him the panic of staring his car in the morning or worse having to buy a new battery, which probably he couldn’t afford. Do we open the car door and turn the lights off without waking him and risk getting into trouble for that…remember we are cops and we could be wrongly accused of doing improper things, even if we had the welfare of the person in mind when we did it. In the end, we just left him. There were no laws being broken, but my heart sure was breaking, thinking of this poor guy in the morning, cursing himself for leaving the lights on.
19.3.08
Gifts
I will be traveling to Jordan in less than 10 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can you tell I’m so excited? I am just pumped and really don’t have much planned when I am there except long nights spent playing shaddeh (card games) munching on bizzer (mixed nuts and squash seeds). Can you tell me, how come people eat bizzer along with drinking tea? Or is it just my weird family that does that? Wouldn’t an icy cold Coke or Pepsi be more fitting to accompany the salty snacks?
But I’m in a bit of a dilemma. I usually tell a few of my cousins that I am coming, and they spread the word. From the old to the young, everyone is just as excited as me. The kids wait up for my arrival since the plane lands late in the evening and we usually make a stop at Burger King or Popeye’s on the way home from the airport. I never thought I would be witness to spending a typical Jordanian’s biweekly salary at either of those places, but 6 hungry mouths will easily spend that and more. I don’t eat at either of those places in the US, and only eat BK in Jordan; I don’t eat chicken too often and of course I don’t trust that the oil is changed regularly…another reason I don’t eat falafel sandwiches.
But just after I purchase my ticket, the phone calls come and along with them, requests for things. I don’t mind picking up the face and eye cream for Aunt S, but when I tell her that Lancôme is $130 she swears her neighbor got it for only $40. I still buy it for her, and come on, take money from her...out of the question. Cousins R and A are like crack addicts for Twizzler’s, so I’m in big trouble if I don’t bring them each a few bags...but man four bags are so heavy. Some sort of outdoor survival gear like a Swiss Army knife, Leatherman, or tent for Uncle E. And my cousins, A, A, M, and E always had Fun-Dip and Milk Duds when they lived in the US, but can’t seem to find them in Jordan, so each of them gets a few packs of each. Both their mom and dad call me a few times to ask me to bring "the usual" and they are willing to pay the excess baggage charge in order to get their supply. But usually I don’t have much room for all the things I want to take for me or I’m not able to stay below the 50lb weight limit. But you can’t say no, I mean you can, but I just can’t. Although when my cheapo uncle, asks for things easily found in Jordan, I baulk at getting it for him. He just doesn’t want to spend HIS money on it. And what about those who don’t call...it’s only fair that I take things for them. And with the notoriously large Jordanian family, do I get things for only the grown ups or the little ones too? UGH!!
I still haven’t mastered the art of packing...but I swear this trip will be different...I will start packing early....like tonight. I talk big game, how about some action instead of empty words. Tell you the truth I will probably still be packing on the way to the airport!
But I’m in a bit of a dilemma. I usually tell a few of my cousins that I am coming, and they spread the word. From the old to the young, everyone is just as excited as me. The kids wait up for my arrival since the plane lands late in the evening and we usually make a stop at Burger King or Popeye’s on the way home from the airport. I never thought I would be witness to spending a typical Jordanian’s biweekly salary at either of those places, but 6 hungry mouths will easily spend that and more. I don’t eat at either of those places in the US, and only eat BK in Jordan; I don’t eat chicken too often and of course I don’t trust that the oil is changed regularly…another reason I don’t eat falafel sandwiches.
But just after I purchase my ticket, the phone calls come and along with them, requests for things. I don’t mind picking up the face and eye cream for Aunt S, but when I tell her that Lancôme is $130 she swears her neighbor got it for only $40. I still buy it for her, and come on, take money from her...out of the question. Cousins R and A are like crack addicts for Twizzler’s, so I’m in big trouble if I don’t bring them each a few bags...but man four bags are so heavy. Some sort of outdoor survival gear like a Swiss Army knife, Leatherman, or tent for Uncle E. And my cousins, A, A, M, and E always had Fun-Dip and Milk Duds when they lived in the US, but can’t seem to find them in Jordan, so each of them gets a few packs of each. Both their mom and dad call me a few times to ask me to bring "the usual" and they are willing to pay the excess baggage charge in order to get their supply. But usually I don’t have much room for all the things I want to take for me or I’m not able to stay below the 50lb weight limit. But you can’t say no, I mean you can, but I just can’t. Although when my cheapo uncle, asks for things easily found in Jordan, I baulk at getting it for him. He just doesn’t want to spend HIS money on it. And what about those who don’t call...it’s only fair that I take things for them. And with the notoriously large Jordanian family, do I get things for only the grown ups or the little ones too? UGH!!
I still haven’t mastered the art of packing...but I swear this trip will be different...I will start packing early....like tonight. I talk big game, how about some action instead of empty words. Tell you the truth I will probably still be packing on the way to the airport!
18.3.08
Test for Dementia
I am so pathetic...got none of them correct.....what about you?
Below are four (4) questions and a bonus question. You have to answer them instantly. You can't take your time, answer all of them immediately. OK?
Let's find out just how clever you really are....
Ready? GO!!! (scroll down)
First Question:
You are participating in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: If you answered that you are first, then you are
absolutely wrong! If you overtake the second person and you take his place, you are second!
Try not to screw up next time.
Now answer the second question,
but don't take as much time as you took for the first question, OK?
Second Question:
If you overtake the last person, then you are...?
(scroll down)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: If you answered that you are second to last, then you are wrong again. Tell me, how can you overtake the LAST Person?
You're not very good at this, are you?
Third Question:
Very tricky arithmetic! Note: This must be done in your head only.
Do NOT use paper and pencil or a calculator. Try it.
Take 1000 and add 40 to it. Now add another 1000 . Now add 30.
Add another 1000. Now add 20. Now add another 1000
Now add 10. What is the total?
Scroll down for answer.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did you get 5000?
The correct answer is actually 4100.
If you don't believe it, check it with a calculator!
Today is definitely not your day, is it?
Maybe you'll get the last question right....
Maybe.
Fourth Question:
Mary's father has five daughters: 1. Nana, 2. Nene, 3. Nini,
4. Nono. What is the name of the fifth daughter?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did you Answer Nunu?
NO! Of course it isn't.
Her name is Mary. Read the question again!
Okay, now the bonus round:
A mute person goes into a shop and wants to buy a toothbrush. By
imitating the action of brushing his teeth he successfully
expresses himself to the shopkeeper and the purchase is
done.
Next, a blind man comes into the shop who wants to buy a pair of
sunglasses; how does HE indicate what he wants?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He just has to open his mouth and ask...
It's really very simple.... Like you!
Below are four (4) questions and a bonus question. You have to answer them instantly. You can't take your time, answer all of them immediately. OK?
Let's find out just how clever you really are....
Ready? GO!!! (scroll down)
First Question:
You are participating in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: If you answered that you are first, then you are
absolutely wrong! If you overtake the second person and you take his place, you are second!
Try not to screw up next time.
Now answer the second question,
but don't take as much time as you took for the first question, OK?
Second Question:
If you overtake the last person, then you are...?
(scroll down)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: If you answered that you are second to last, then you are wrong again. Tell me, how can you overtake the LAST Person?
You're not very good at this, are you?
Third Question:
Very tricky arithmetic! Note: This must be done in your head only.
Do NOT use paper and pencil or a calculator. Try it.
Take 1000 and add 40 to it. Now add another 1000 . Now add 30.
Add another 1000. Now add 20. Now add another 1000
Now add 10. What is the total?
Scroll down for answer.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did you get 5000?
The correct answer is actually 4100.
If you don't believe it, check it with a calculator!
Today is definitely not your day, is it?
Maybe you'll get the last question right....
Maybe.
Fourth Question:
Mary's father has five daughters: 1. Nana, 2. Nene, 3. Nini,
4. Nono. What is the name of the fifth daughter?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did you Answer Nunu?
NO! Of course it isn't.
Her name is Mary. Read the question again!
Okay, now the bonus round:
A mute person goes into a shop and wants to buy a toothbrush. By
imitating the action of brushing his teeth he successfully
expresses himself to the shopkeeper and the purchase is
done.
Next, a blind man comes into the shop who wants to buy a pair of
sunglasses; how does HE indicate what he wants?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He just has to open his mouth and ask...
It's really very simple.... Like you!
BOLF
BOLF is “Be on the Lookout For”, but it commonly just stated as BOL. As my readership is growing, I appeal to every one of you for help. The call has come through, BOLF a 4 foot 6 inch tall, white male, last seen wearing baggy blue jeans, a t-shirt with the American flag on the back of it, white athletic shoes, carrying a metallic blue gun. He has a voice described as “you know, how Mike Tyson sounds”. The suspect should be considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached. The gun appears to be a little too big for him and he has trouble keeping it concealed as it sticks out of his waistband. If you come into contact with him, do your best to remain calm and remove yourself from the situation. I doubt he will make it far, but you just never know where these guys run and hide.
I don’t know how he hit up the restaurant. I mean if a 4’6” dude come into my place and tried to rob me, I wouldn’t be able to control my laughter! I would think it was a comedy show. All I have to say, it that his lucky I wasn’t there.
I don’t know how he hit up the restaurant. I mean if a 4’6” dude come into my place and tried to rob me, I wouldn’t be able to control my laughter! I would think it was a comedy show. All I have to say, it that his lucky I wasn’t there.
17.3.08
Bad Boyz, (and Girlz) Watcha Gonna Do… (con’t)
So we wait for the dispatcher to reply to us….on the midnight shift we only have one dispatcher and they handle both fire and police 911 calls….but we listen to traffic on our police radio for our department, the fire department, the country police and the state police. When the “stuff” hits the fan, we all support one another. But there was nothing really happing on the radio. We are also able to switch channels to our dedicated frequency that only our car and the dispatcher use. This frequency band is used for keeping the main channel free and really other officers don’t need to hear about specific individuals and if they do then the dispatcher can alert them. On the main channel, we always state our location before every stop, just in case the cavalry needs to come save us. So we get the code back on the driver of the Jeep. Police talk in “10” codes, but since none of you would understand, she basically said that our Jeep driver has an outstanding warrant for her arrest.
So my partner and I plan our next move….and what we will do to place her into custody. We go up to the car and ask her to get out. This lady is 6foot 4 inches tall, and upwards of 280 lbs. Good thing she was cooperating. We explain to her that she is being detained as a judge has issued a warrant for her arrest. Of course she objects but we tell her we need hold her until we figure out what is going on. So we get the cuffs on her and in the back of the car she goes. She says she has to call her boss or she will lose her job. So I go up to her car and get her phone for her and she tells her boss she will not be into work. Things are going smooth so far. Let me emphasize at this point, that our duty is ONLY to ENFORCE THE LAW. We don’t decide guilt, make the laws, or hand out punishment. That is for the politicians and for the courts. We have been ordered by judge to arrest the person.
So we start investigating to find out why she has a warrant. Apparently a while back she got a traffic ticket and due to that and for whatever reason her license was suspended. Could have been for a number of things, she didn’t pay the fine, the judge ordered her to do something (a number of hours of community service, attend a driving improvement school, talk to teens about the dangers of drunk driving, etc.). It seems that she didn’t follow the judge’s orders so her license was subsequently suspended. But she continued to drive without a valid license, but she might have not known it was suspended. She was then again pulled over, and the officer discovered her license was suspended. Although I am not sure what that officer did, the driver probably caught a number of breaks. With a suspended driver, we have the authority to arrest the driver, ticket them, and impound the vehicle, but like I said everything is officer discretion on what they want to do. So based on this lady continuing to drive and giving her the benefit of the doubt, she didn’t know her license was suspended and it seems that the officer probably gave just gave her a ticket, summons for court and verbal warning to get her license suspension take care of. As we now as we told her all of this, she disclosed to us, that she couldn’t make the original court date and had called the courthouse to reschedule. She claims they never sent her a new date. That now brings us up to the current traffic stop and the reason for the warrant. She most likely didn’t show at the rescheduled court date, and the judge issued a warrant for her arrest and that is what the dispatcher was reading to us. As there is no one else in the car with her and well it’s not safe to just leave it at the side of the road, we allow her to call her mom to come pick up/move the car. So we wait for her mom to come. We could have easily had the car towed and that along with the impound fees would have amounted to several hundred dollars. So we’re not big mean police men.
Oh, before I go on. With the warrant, when one is issued and for “small” things like a suspended license, the driver can pay a bond “a promise/guarantee to show up at the court at a future date”. This lady’s bond was $250. If she had that on her, then we would take the money and issue her a receipt and release her on the spot. At times, officers are willing to follow someone to the bank machine so that they can withdraw the money. Sometimes the warrants have $0 bond and sometimes it is several hundred dollars, all depends on what the judge says. This lady didn’t have the money to pay the bond. Me personally, after seeing and smelling the jailhouse, no amount of money would be too great to keep me out of there. But I would never be place myself in that situation from the get go.
This lady her luck was really bad that night. Usually the jail is so overcrowded they don’t have room for these low risk prisoners so they just tell us to “advise and release” (tell them about the warrant and that they should contact to court to have it taken care of). But unfortunately for her they had room. So it’s off to the jail we go. We pull up to the barbed wire fence and identify ourselves and the electric gate opens. There no weapons allowed, so we have to unarm ourselves by locking up our guns, Taser, pepper spray, knives, and magazines in the trunk of the car before we enter the holding cell area. This part is just like the movies: remote control electronic doors open and close behind you, and then the one in front opens, you walk through. The prisoner is processed, searched, personal effects taken, shoes off, and a nurse/mental health practitioner speaks with them. They are then sent into the holding cell with other prisoners until they are bonded out or a sent to see a judge. We left before they led her away. I thought about what to say to her…”do I say have a good night”…I never imagined saying that some anyone would be so wrong, until I caught myself about to say it the first time after taking a drunk driver to jail? I usually say “good luck”, but I didn’t say anything this particular time. I felt really bad at the hand she was dealt, but she should have been more responsible of taking care of her stuff. So I blame her really.
But it still doesn’t mean you heartless….truly I felt bad of this lady….but she didn’t seem afraid at all. She said this was her first time going to jail, but I truly doubt that. If it was me, I would have been crying and begging not to go…but like I said I wouldn’t be in that position to begin with. It might seem like a misunderstanding between her and the courts on the original suspension, but she should have taken care of it, followed up on it. If I hadn’t heard from the courts after a while, I would have called them. These types of things just don’t disappear and when officers are ordered by the courts to detain someone, well that is what we have to do.
So my partner and I plan our next move….and what we will do to place her into custody. We go up to the car and ask her to get out. This lady is 6foot 4 inches tall, and upwards of 280 lbs. Good thing she was cooperating. We explain to her that she is being detained as a judge has issued a warrant for her arrest. Of course she objects but we tell her we need hold her until we figure out what is going on. So we get the cuffs on her and in the back of the car she goes. She says she has to call her boss or she will lose her job. So I go up to her car and get her phone for her and she tells her boss she will not be into work. Things are going smooth so far. Let me emphasize at this point, that our duty is ONLY to ENFORCE THE LAW. We don’t decide guilt, make the laws, or hand out punishment. That is for the politicians and for the courts. We have been ordered by judge to arrest the person.
So we start investigating to find out why she has a warrant. Apparently a while back she got a traffic ticket and due to that and for whatever reason her license was suspended. Could have been for a number of things, she didn’t pay the fine, the judge ordered her to do something (a number of hours of community service, attend a driving improvement school, talk to teens about the dangers of drunk driving, etc.). It seems that she didn’t follow the judge’s orders so her license was subsequently suspended. But she continued to drive without a valid license, but she might have not known it was suspended. She was then again pulled over, and the officer discovered her license was suspended. Although I am not sure what that officer did, the driver probably caught a number of breaks. With a suspended driver, we have the authority to arrest the driver, ticket them, and impound the vehicle, but like I said everything is officer discretion on what they want to do. So based on this lady continuing to drive and giving her the benefit of the doubt, she didn’t know her license was suspended and it seems that the officer probably gave just gave her a ticket, summons for court and verbal warning to get her license suspension take care of. As we now as we told her all of this, she disclosed to us, that she couldn’t make the original court date and had called the courthouse to reschedule. She claims they never sent her a new date. That now brings us up to the current traffic stop and the reason for the warrant. She most likely didn’t show at the rescheduled court date, and the judge issued a warrant for her arrest and that is what the dispatcher was reading to us. As there is no one else in the car with her and well it’s not safe to just leave it at the side of the road, we allow her to call her mom to come pick up/move the car. So we wait for her mom to come. We could have easily had the car towed and that along with the impound fees would have amounted to several hundred dollars. So we’re not big mean police men.
Oh, before I go on. With the warrant, when one is issued and for “small” things like a suspended license, the driver can pay a bond “a promise/guarantee to show up at the court at a future date”. This lady’s bond was $250. If she had that on her, then we would take the money and issue her a receipt and release her on the spot. At times, officers are willing to follow someone to the bank machine so that they can withdraw the money. Sometimes the warrants have $0 bond and sometimes it is several hundred dollars, all depends on what the judge says. This lady didn’t have the money to pay the bond. Me personally, after seeing and smelling the jailhouse, no amount of money would be too great to keep me out of there. But I would never be place myself in that situation from the get go.
This lady her luck was really bad that night. Usually the jail is so overcrowded they don’t have room for these low risk prisoners so they just tell us to “advise and release” (tell them about the warrant and that they should contact to court to have it taken care of). But unfortunately for her they had room. So it’s off to the jail we go. We pull up to the barbed wire fence and identify ourselves and the electric gate opens. There no weapons allowed, so we have to unarm ourselves by locking up our guns, Taser, pepper spray, knives, and magazines in the trunk of the car before we enter the holding cell area. This part is just like the movies: remote control electronic doors open and close behind you, and then the one in front opens, you walk through. The prisoner is processed, searched, personal effects taken, shoes off, and a nurse/mental health practitioner speaks with them. They are then sent into the holding cell with other prisoners until they are bonded out or a sent to see a judge. We left before they led her away. I thought about what to say to her…”do I say have a good night”…I never imagined saying that some anyone would be so wrong, until I caught myself about to say it the first time after taking a drunk driver to jail? I usually say “good luck”, but I didn’t say anything this particular time. I felt really bad at the hand she was dealt, but she should have been more responsible of taking care of her stuff. So I blame her really.
But it still doesn’t mean you heartless….truly I felt bad of this lady….but she didn’t seem afraid at all. She said this was her first time going to jail, but I truly doubt that. If it was me, I would have been crying and begging not to go…but like I said I wouldn’t be in that position to begin with. It might seem like a misunderstanding between her and the courts on the original suspension, but she should have taken care of it, followed up on it. If I hadn’t heard from the courts after a while, I would have called them. These types of things just don’t disappear and when officers are ordered by the courts to detain someone, well that is what we have to do.
16.3.08
Bad Boyz (and Girlz)..Whatcha Gonna Do....
Just wrapping up another great weekend. Started off with a short 750 mile airplane ride, first to Morristown and then to my final destination. These pictures are not from this month’s trip but rather last month’s when there was snow on the ground in NJ. As we headed westward, the dull brown landscape 32,000 feet below started showing the remnants of the latest snowfall. It was a total white out with only the roads and occasional lake showing signs of color. Due to daylights savings time we landed while it was still light out, rather than the cold dark nights we’ve grown accustomed to for the past five months.
The weekend sure was a tiring on. From Wednesday to Friday night at around 2am, I slept a total of 6 hours; 5 on Wednesday night, 0 on Thursday night, and 1 on Friday morning before booting up the computer and getting to work. Yep I got to work from home on Friday. I definitely couldn’t do that all the time. Sure it’s nice to dial in to a conference call in you PJ’s, but with all distractions such as the TV, the refrigerator, and you friends calling you, I would never get any work done. Absolutely none.
So why didn’t I sleep a lick on Thursday you may wonder. I was out keeping the city and streets safe. Yeah me. It was a slow and cold night with not too many criminal elements out and about. We stopped a few cars with defective equipment (police talk for headlight burned out, brake lights malfunctioning or anything that could potentially make the vehicle hazardous to other drivers or pedestrians). We didn’t cite them for the most part…it depending on their attitude when we walk up to the car....but gave them a stern warning to get it fixed or else :-) And usually, 9 out of 10 times, there are other things wrong with the person or car that would lead to a ticket or arrest anyways. Could be no proof/valid insurance, the car not registered properly, or the person is wanted or has an warrant for their arrest.
One of our stops on Thursday was due to the license plate lights were not working. I know, some of you might be rolling your eyes, but trust me that is a valid reason to stop a car. And at 3 in the morning, it's a good opportunity to check out the driver and see what they are up to. You just never know what you will discover. This poor fella, couldn’t speak any English. We learned though he was heading home after working his shift at McDonalds. His insurance had expired a few weeks prior…so we cited him for that and not the license plate light. Without insurance, if he was to kill or injure someone, that person or that person’s family would have a hard time collecting the money necessary for their hospital bills or lost wages due to the accident. The could lose their homes and livelihood, so the ticket forces him to get insurance and thus the well-being of the public is ensured. Surprisingly there were no 911 emergency calls. We had one non-emergency call for loud music, some neighbor complained. In these types of situations, we try to make contact with the violator, but in this instance no one answered the door. All the lights were on in the apartment as we could see inside and we could hear the music blasting…all at 2 am. I'm just glad they are not my neighbor! Our city has a sound ordinance and if the police can hear the music more that 15 feet away, the perpetrator can actually be arrested. Yes, CUFFED and put in the back of the police crusier and taken to JAIL. J-A-I-L. There is no passing go and they don't collecting $200, but we sure will from the ticket! Truthfully I don't think it's that much, but they do get a ticket. They might actually get evicted as well because, well now they have a criminal record, and who would rent them a place. For these types of calls, it’s usually loud music in apartment buildings. We like to give at least one warning before throwing the cuffs on, and I’ve seen cases of two warnings. It all about the attitude the give us. Usually the first warning with the threat of a citation and arrest forces people to respect their neighbors right to live in peace and quiet.
The rest of the shift was pretty quiet, except for the last two hours….it was just before 6:00am and we noticed a car with defective equipment….we pulled out of the parking lot of the bank we were sitting at and followed the truck. It was about 5 cars in front of us on a one lane highway and we had trouble getting behing it..it was during the start of the morning rush hour… We were going to let it go as we were approaching the city limits and it took us 4 miles to finally get behind the Jeep and find a safe place to pull it over. We finally get the car stopped. My partner and I were just going to give her a warning and send her on her way….but when the dispatcher took too long responding on the driver's background check we knew something was up……….
Stay tuned until the next post to hear how it went down…… ;-)
The weekend sure was a tiring on. From Wednesday to Friday night at around 2am, I slept a total of 6 hours; 5 on Wednesday night, 0 on Thursday night, and 1 on Friday morning before booting up the computer and getting to work. Yep I got to work from home on Friday. I definitely couldn’t do that all the time. Sure it’s nice to dial in to a conference call in you PJ’s, but with all distractions such as the TV, the refrigerator, and you friends calling you, I would never get any work done. Absolutely none.
So why didn’t I sleep a lick on Thursday you may wonder. I was out keeping the city and streets safe. Yeah me. It was a slow and cold night with not too many criminal elements out and about. We stopped a few cars with defective equipment (police talk for headlight burned out, brake lights malfunctioning or anything that could potentially make the vehicle hazardous to other drivers or pedestrians). We didn’t cite them for the most part…it depending on their attitude when we walk up to the car....but gave them a stern warning to get it fixed or else :-) And usually, 9 out of 10 times, there are other things wrong with the person or car that would lead to a ticket or arrest anyways. Could be no proof/valid insurance, the car not registered properly, or the person is wanted or has an warrant for their arrest.
One of our stops on Thursday was due to the license plate lights were not working. I know, some of you might be rolling your eyes, but trust me that is a valid reason to stop a car. And at 3 in the morning, it's a good opportunity to check out the driver and see what they are up to. You just never know what you will discover. This poor fella, couldn’t speak any English. We learned though he was heading home after working his shift at McDonalds. His insurance had expired a few weeks prior…so we cited him for that and not the license plate light. Without insurance, if he was to kill or injure someone, that person or that person’s family would have a hard time collecting the money necessary for their hospital bills or lost wages due to the accident. The could lose their homes and livelihood, so the ticket forces him to get insurance and thus the well-being of the public is ensured. Surprisingly there were no 911 emergency calls. We had one non-emergency call for loud music, some neighbor complained. In these types of situations, we try to make contact with the violator, but in this instance no one answered the door. All the lights were on in the apartment as we could see inside and we could hear the music blasting…all at 2 am. I'm just glad they are not my neighbor! Our city has a sound ordinance and if the police can hear the music more that 15 feet away, the perpetrator can actually be arrested. Yes, CUFFED and put in the back of the police crusier and taken to JAIL. J-A-I-L. There is no passing go and they don't collecting $200, but we sure will from the ticket! Truthfully I don't think it's that much, but they do get a ticket. They might actually get evicted as well because, well now they have a criminal record, and who would rent them a place. For these types of calls, it’s usually loud music in apartment buildings. We like to give at least one warning before throwing the cuffs on, and I’ve seen cases of two warnings. It all about the attitude the give us. Usually the first warning with the threat of a citation and arrest forces people to respect their neighbors right to live in peace and quiet.
The rest of the shift was pretty quiet, except for the last two hours….it was just before 6:00am and we noticed a car with defective equipment….we pulled out of the parking lot of the bank we were sitting at and followed the truck. It was about 5 cars in front of us on a one lane highway and we had trouble getting behing it..it was during the start of the morning rush hour… We were going to let it go as we were approaching the city limits and it took us 4 miles to finally get behind the Jeep and find a safe place to pull it over. We finally get the car stopped. My partner and I were just going to give her a warning and send her on her way….but when the dispatcher took too long responding on the driver's background check we knew something was up……….
Stay tuned until the next post to hear how it went down…… ;-)
13.3.08
Oh No!
After a huge blogging day like yesterday, it seems that whatever I write, will just not be able to compete with what I had written yesterday…I am sure many might be having the same feelings. It’s like we’re back to the old same daily grind. But I have readers now, 4 to be exact, FOUR, ARBI’A, IV, QUATTRO and although I am so excited, I need to come up with posts to keep them.
So what do I write about today…I could write about the toilet seat lady or the governor of NY, but I am sure you have already heard about them. And what more could I add other than to say that they are lunatics.
I just got a text message announcing the latest winner of an ongoing silly game between me and my brothers. It has been going on for about 6 years. Yeah, we are pathetic and some may same lame...but hey it's our thing...and keeps us together. So it all started on a road trip to Chicago. I have three brothers, two like me who are car fanatics, and the last one who could care less what we though about the SL 65 AMG, Lexus LS 460, Corvette Z06, or Hummer H2. But when the 3 car enthusiasts see a vehicle they like, the “ooooooooooooooooo’s and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’s” are non- stop. We salivate, we whistle, we yell, we high-five one another, we drive the non-car enthusiast (NCE) brother crazy. He has to threaten us with great bodily harm to get us to calm down or even lower our voices one decibel. He yells, “Don’ make me come back there” or “Don’t make me pull over” when we’re in the car….kinda like dad used to do when we would fight in the back seat when we were younger. The NCE is usually very calm and collected, but when the chatter about cars starts, he turns into the Incredible Hulk. But what can I say, we are nuts about cars and we don’t flinch with the threat of him turning green and attacking the three of us.
So where was I…..oh yeah, the road trip. As we traveled along the highway, every so often out heads would turn as someone would yell out that they noticed the Jag, the Lexus, the X5, and on and on. After a continuous 2 hours of this, NCE brother who happened to be driving went crazy on us. B-A-L-L-I-S-T-I-C He told us in some very nice words to quiet down. We pleaded with him, telling him we were addicts and were sick...and we just couldn’t help ourselves. I think he took pity on us, and said fine…but you can’t talk until you find a Cherry Red M3. For those who don’t know what a Cherry Red M3 is, allow me to explain. Cherry Red, is the color, bright red. And the M3 is no other than a Mercedes 325 on steroids and speed. It’s possibly one of the finest driving machines ever! So seeing no other way to continue pointing out hot cars on the road, we took the challenge and we held up our part of the bargain, well for the most part. A few times I would say “That’s not a Cherry Red M3, but that is one fine looking ~Ferrari, Accord, Jeep, etc.~ That whole weekend in Chicago, hours spent shopping on the Magnificent Mile, and the many hours driving home, we just couldn’t find the elusive Cherry Red M3. Then after a few months passed, and we all just happened to be together one day, when all of a sudden the little brother went crazy. Hollering, yelling, flapping his arms, and wouldn’t you know it, he finally located the Holy Grail…he found it…right there in the lane behind us to the right, a shiny Cherry Red M3.
So now when the phone announces that one of my brothers is calling…I don’t the assume the worst in the sense of a death in the family or hospitalization of our loved ones, but that I have to listen to him yelling and telling me that he just saw a Cherry Red M3. B-A-S-T-A-R-D No matter where in the world we are living or traveling and even NCE brother is in on it too. He’s found one once. And of all places, Chicago! Bastard x2!
So back to the text from today, there was some foul language it in, basically calling us out and saying looky looky what I found. I was in a meeting, but I read it and started smiling widely. Then I had to explain to everyone why…in front of almost 30 people. Good thing they are close friends as well. And so my brother R can claim the latest prize: bragging rights and taunts, until the next time we get “the” call or text. Here’s the proof:
So what do I write about today…I could write about the toilet seat lady or the governor of NY, but I am sure you have already heard about them. And what more could I add other than to say that they are lunatics.
I just got a text message announcing the latest winner of an ongoing silly game between me and my brothers. It has been going on for about 6 years. Yeah, we are pathetic and some may same lame...but hey it's our thing...and keeps us together. So it all started on a road trip to Chicago. I have three brothers, two like me who are car fanatics, and the last one who could care less what we though about the SL 65 AMG, Lexus LS 460, Corvette Z06, or Hummer H2. But when the 3 car enthusiasts see a vehicle they like, the “ooooooooooooooooo’s and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’s” are non- stop. We salivate, we whistle, we yell, we high-five one another, we drive the non-car enthusiast (NCE) brother crazy. He has to threaten us with great bodily harm to get us to calm down or even lower our voices one decibel. He yells, “Don’ make me come back there” or “Don’t make me pull over” when we’re in the car….kinda like dad used to do when we would fight in the back seat when we were younger. The NCE is usually very calm and collected, but when the chatter about cars starts, he turns into the Incredible Hulk. But what can I say, we are nuts about cars and we don’t flinch with the threat of him turning green and attacking the three of us.
So where was I…..oh yeah, the road trip. As we traveled along the highway, every so often out heads would turn as someone would yell out that they noticed the Jag, the Lexus, the X5, and on and on. After a continuous 2 hours of this, NCE brother who happened to be driving went crazy on us. B-A-L-L-I-S-T-I-C He told us in some very nice words to quiet down. We pleaded with him, telling him we were addicts and were sick...and we just couldn’t help ourselves. I think he took pity on us, and said fine…but you can’t talk until you find a Cherry Red M3. For those who don’t know what a Cherry Red M3 is, allow me to explain. Cherry Red, is the color, bright red. And the M3 is no other than a Mercedes 325 on steroids and speed. It’s possibly one of the finest driving machines ever! So seeing no other way to continue pointing out hot cars on the road, we took the challenge and we held up our part of the bargain, well for the most part. A few times I would say “That’s not a Cherry Red M3, but that is one fine looking ~Ferrari, Accord, Jeep, etc.~ That whole weekend in Chicago, hours spent shopping on the Magnificent Mile, and the many hours driving home, we just couldn’t find the elusive Cherry Red M3. Then after a few months passed, and we all just happened to be together one day, when all of a sudden the little brother went crazy. Hollering, yelling, flapping his arms, and wouldn’t you know it, he finally located the Holy Grail…he found it…right there in the lane behind us to the right, a shiny Cherry Red M3.
So now when the phone announces that one of my brothers is calling…I don’t the assume the worst in the sense of a death in the family or hospitalization of our loved ones, but that I have to listen to him yelling and telling me that he just saw a Cherry Red M3. B-A-S-T-A-R-D No matter where in the world we are living or traveling and even NCE brother is in on it too. He’s found one once. And of all places, Chicago! Bastard x2!
So back to the text from today, there was some foul language it in, basically calling us out and saying looky looky what I found. I was in a meeting, but I read it and started smiling widely. Then I had to explain to everyone why…in front of almost 30 people. Good thing they are close friends as well. And so my brother R can claim the latest prize: bragging rights and taunts, until the next time we get “the” call or text. Here’s the proof:
11.3.08
Blog About Jordan Day 3/12/08
I sometimes wish that I could travel back in time. I think everyone has this wish at one point or another in their lives. Whether they want to go back and redo something or choose an alternate path in which to take their life. For me, it would be to go back and really see from whence I came and meet those who I missed the chance to really get to know.
I left Jordan before there was a Queen Alia International Airport, when Royal Jordanian was known as Alia, and probably a few years after phone service was available. I don’t recall the journey to New York’s JFK, but I know my mom had a really difficult trip. In tow were three kids, ranging from just under 4 years old all the way down to two weeks old. Years later, she told me she was going to turn around and just go home, just to teach my dad a lesson. To this day I don’t know how she did it, but she’s put up with my dad since then.
I have faint memories of my short time in Jordan before we departed. I remember layouts of rooms and homes of both sets of grandparents…but that is about it. I remember an old lady at my mom’s house (who I later learned what my mom’s grandmother) who had the green checkerboard tattooed chin. She would beg me for kisses, but I wouldn’t give her one because I was so grossed out by the green ink on her face. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to know my mom’s parents. My dear grandma died a few weeks after I was born and my grandfather died 7 years later, long before I had the chance to make it back to Jordan. I never got to know them and I feel cheated by that. My dad’s mom let me tell ya, what a woman she was. I only got a chance to see her a few times after we’d left. She sadly passed away in 2000. But everyone in the community knew her, and she earned the respect and admiration of many, my mom included. Yes, my mom loved her mother in law and they were dear friends. My only surviving grandparent is my dad’s dad. And what a character he is. Early on, he worked traveling between Haifa, Jerusalem and Amman, buying and selling things. At least that is how he explained it to me in his broken English and what I could understand with my poor command of Arabic. I should ask him again about his “first” job….get the real scoop. Later on, he inherited land from his father and it was planted with hundreds of olive trees, which to this day still stand.
That farm is the one place in the world that no matter where I am, I can be there in an instant! Thousands of miles away, I just close my eyes and I can hear the wind singing, feel myself lying atop the rocky soil, see the green olive tree branches swaying and the golden wheat fields dancing, smell the ripe peaches, and of course taste the dust as I lick my lips. I tell you, there is no other place in the world like it.
And there is no other place in the world like Jordan. There was a time when everyone knew everyone, when people would leave their doors unlocked, when kids could play in the street and parents not have to worry about their wellbeing, when people genuinely cared about one another, and when generations and generations of families build lasting relationships. It still amazes me when the old hajji on the other end of town, remembers what a kind and gentle giant your Jiddo Mohammed was. And others tell stories about how your Jiddeh Badia was so progressive for her time and the trailblazer she was. They instantly recognize my mom or any of her sisters, and embrace them like long lost sisters. How your Jiddo Hussein is stopped by everyone as you two go buy falafel early each morning and 10 minute journey takes three times as long. How your Jiddeh Amneh, always cared for the less fortunate, sharing what God blessed her with, with those who had so little. This is the Jordan I choose to remember.
In me, I see so much of the same traits others noticed in my grandparents. I am truly honored to carry on their legacies and live life the way they lived theirs. No matter how many years or what distance separates me from my country, I know that Jordan will always be a part of who I am. And every time I look into the mirror, and look deeply into my own eyes, I will know from whence I came.
God bless and protect my beloved Jordan.
I left Jordan before there was a Queen Alia International Airport, when Royal Jordanian was known as Alia, and probably a few years after phone service was available. I don’t recall the journey to New York’s JFK, but I know my mom had a really difficult trip. In tow were three kids, ranging from just under 4 years old all the way down to two weeks old. Years later, she told me she was going to turn around and just go home, just to teach my dad a lesson. To this day I don’t know how she did it, but she’s put up with my dad since then.
I have faint memories of my short time in Jordan before we departed. I remember layouts of rooms and homes of both sets of grandparents…but that is about it. I remember an old lady at my mom’s house (who I later learned what my mom’s grandmother) who had the green checkerboard tattooed chin. She would beg me for kisses, but I wouldn’t give her one because I was so grossed out by the green ink on her face. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to know my mom’s parents. My dear grandma died a few weeks after I was born and my grandfather died 7 years later, long before I had the chance to make it back to Jordan. I never got to know them and I feel cheated by that. My dad’s mom let me tell ya, what a woman she was. I only got a chance to see her a few times after we’d left. She sadly passed away in 2000. But everyone in the community knew her, and she earned the respect and admiration of many, my mom included. Yes, my mom loved her mother in law and they were dear friends. My only surviving grandparent is my dad’s dad. And what a character he is. Early on, he worked traveling between Haifa, Jerusalem and Amman, buying and selling things. At least that is how he explained it to me in his broken English and what I could understand with my poor command of Arabic. I should ask him again about his “first” job….get the real scoop. Later on, he inherited land from his father and it was planted with hundreds of olive trees, which to this day still stand.
That farm is the one place in the world that no matter where I am, I can be there in an instant! Thousands of miles away, I just close my eyes and I can hear the wind singing, feel myself lying atop the rocky soil, see the green olive tree branches swaying and the golden wheat fields dancing, smell the ripe peaches, and of course taste the dust as I lick my lips. I tell you, there is no other place in the world like it.
And there is no other place in the world like Jordan. There was a time when everyone knew everyone, when people would leave their doors unlocked, when kids could play in the street and parents not have to worry about their wellbeing, when people genuinely cared about one another, and when generations and generations of families build lasting relationships. It still amazes me when the old hajji on the other end of town, remembers what a kind and gentle giant your Jiddo Mohammed was. And others tell stories about how your Jiddeh Badia was so progressive for her time and the trailblazer she was. They instantly recognize my mom or any of her sisters, and embrace them like long lost sisters. How your Jiddo Hussein is stopped by everyone as you two go buy falafel early each morning and 10 minute journey takes three times as long. How your Jiddeh Amneh, always cared for the less fortunate, sharing what God blessed her with, with those who had so little. This is the Jordan I choose to remember.
In me, I see so much of the same traits others noticed in my grandparents. I am truly honored to carry on their legacies and live life the way they lived theirs. No matter how many years or what distance separates me from my country, I know that Jordan will always be a part of who I am. And every time I look into the mirror, and look deeply into my own eyes, I will know from whence I came.
God bless and protect my beloved Jordan.
7.3.08
Say What?
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
This 45 letter word is the longest in the English language. Do you know how to pronounce it? The meaning? Take a guess....
OK lets break it down... Pneumono refers to the lung. Ultra means extremely, microscopic means tiny, silica is sand, volcano is self-evident, and coniosis is scarring.
It's a lung condition brought on by volcanic ash.
Bet ya didn't know that!
This 45 letter word is the longest in the English language. Do you know how to pronounce it? The meaning? Take a guess....
OK lets break it down... Pneumono refers to the lung. Ultra means extremely, microscopic means tiny, silica is sand, volcano is self-evident, and coniosis is scarring.
It's a lung condition brought on by volcanic ash.
Bet ya didn't know that!
4.3.08
So Long…..Gunslinger!
Today one of the greatest to ever play the game retired from the National Football League (NFL) after coming off what was undoubtedly one of his finest seasons. Green Bay Packers QB, Brett “The Gunslinger” Favre (pronounced “far-VE”), chose today to hang up his cleats after being one of the most dominating quarterbacks ever, and professional football player over the last 17 years. He set many records over the years and leaves the NFL with his name atop several career passing categories. In 2007, he set the record for passing Touchdowns (442), passing yards (61,655) and wins by a starting QB (160) and interceptions (288). Including the playoffs, he played in 275 consecutive games. That last statistic is amazing, that means EVERY. SINGLE. GAME. for 17 years. For a QB that is unheard of…and for one who was always the target for 300 pound and up linemen, chasing him, knocking him down and falling on top of him. I am positive that he will be in the Pro-Football Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility. His team won the Lombardi Trophy awarded to Super Bowl Champions in 1996. And was named league Most Valuable Player 3 times.
Brett was destined to do great things in life. He got a second chance early on and I think he made the most of it. On July 14, 1990, before the start of Favre's senior year of college, he was involved in a near-fatal car accident. When going around a bend a few tenths of a mile from his parents' house, Favre lost control of his car, which flipped three times and came to rest against a tree. It was only after one of his brothers smashed a car window with a golf club that Favre could be evacuated to the hospital. In the ambulance, his mother was sitting with him. "All I kept asking [her] was 'Will I be able to play football again?'" Favre recalled later. Doctors would later remove 30 inches of Favre's small intestine. Six weeks after this incident, on September 8, Favre led Southern Miss to a comeback victory over Alabama. Alabama coach Gene Stallings said, "You can call it a miracle or a legend or whatever you want to. I just know that on that day, Brett Favre was larger than life."
No one expect this today…not his coach, not his teammates, not his opponents, and most of all football fans everywhere. Favre was the players you loved to hate, he was that good. When he first came into the league I didn’t care for him much, and then his addiction to the pain killer vicodin surfaced, he fell further down on my list of players I would cheer for. But over the past several years and after many tragedies (the sudden death of this father, and six months later the accidental death of his brother, his wife being diagnosed with breast cancer, hurricane Katrina destroying his off season home), as he started to do amazing things, and make better players out of mediocre ones I hopped on his bandwagon. Looking back on his relationship with one of the finest players and an even better man, to walk the earth Reggie White really solidified him as one of my favorites and I sure of many others.
So as we mourn Sunday’s without Ole #4, I say to Brett thanks for the memories. Thanks for giving kids everywhere a role model; someone to look up to, someone to emulate, someone to show them that good things do happen to good peopl. Thanks for showing everyone that real men shed tears, yep even the toughest of the tough. It has been a joy and privilege for me to watch you play over the years, and I was genuinely saddened to hear the news. I think the few other times I have been so deeply touched by news of someone I only idolized on TV were the night LT broke Joe Thiesmann’s leg and when I heard that Reggie White had died. I remember the warm tears the flowed down my cheeks. I respect your decision although I would have loved to see you make another run for a ring! As I am sure Cheese Heads across the globe would have wanted!
3.3.08
Wal-Mart Arabic Style
Reading the article below, I was concerned for the local merchants along Warren Ave and Shaeffer which cris-cross in the heart of Dearborn, Michigan. The small shops and halal butcher shops cater to hundres of thousands within the Detroit Metro Area. Many families make an outing of going to so their shopping at stores that are just like "back home". Rizik Halal Market, Harb Imports, Cedarland Restaurant, Westborn Fruit Market, Shatila, Masri Sweets, even barbers. Immigrants find products they are used to finding in their homeland and the signage is in Arabic. Commercial banks joined the bandwagon many years ago but placeing signs in Arabic to assist native speakers. Subway promoted the use of halal meats in the shops in Dearborn. This little city in the shadow of Detroit has been a landing point for new Middle Easter Immigrants from the turn of the 20th century. The people have kept their traditions and for the most part have acclimated to life in the US. You see the Lebanese, Palestinians,Iraqi's, Yemeni's, and even a few Jordanian families. The mosques, the community centers, the schools, the bakeries, the shawerma, the Kunafa...you name it you can find it there.
Newsweek Article,
Arab-America’s Store
Wal-Mart stocks falafel, olives and Islamic greeting cards to attract Dearborn's ethnic shoppers.
By Keith Naughton
NEWSWEEK
Updated: 12:49 PM ET Mar 1, 2008
As Arwa Hamad strolls a new Wal-Mart, an eight-foot display of olive oil stops her in her tracks. "Oh, wow," she says, marveling at the sight of so many gallons of Lebanese extra virgin. "We could go through one of these in a week in my house." Around the corner, row upon row of gallon jars of olives—from Turkey, Greece, Egypt and Lebanon—soak in deep hues of purple, red and green. "Look at the size of these olives," says the stay-at-home mother of three and native of Yemen. Hamad, 34, has shopped at Wal-Mart before, but never one like this. She is overcome with nostalgia as she spots Nido powdered milk and Al Haloub Cow, canned meat she calls the "Arabic Spam." "My father loves this," she says. "People from war-torn countries, this is what you lived on when you couldn't go out of the house to shop." This Wal-Mart, though, isn't in a war zone. It's in Dearborn, Mich., home to nearly a half-million Arab-Americans, the largest concentration of Arabs outside the Middle East.
As America changes, so does the store where America shops. In Dearborn this week, the world's largest retailer opens a store like no other among its 3,500 U.S. outlets. Walk through the front door of the 200,000-square-foot supercenter and instead of rows of checkout counters, you find a scene akin to a farmers market in Beirut. Twenty-two tables are stacked high with fresh produce like kusa and batenjan, squash and eggplant used in Middle Eastern dishes. Rimming the produce department are shelves filled with Arab favorites like mango juice from Egypt and vine leaves from Turkey used to make mehshi, or stuffed grape leaves. A walled-off section of the butcher case is devoted to Halal meats, slaughtered in accordance with Islamic law (when a Wal-Mart manager noticed the pork section was too prominent he ordered it moved, since Muslims don't eat pork). In the freezer case, you'll find frozen falafel. You can also pick up a CD from Lebanese pop singer Ragheb Alama or buy Muslim greeting cards.
Wal-Mart's Arab-American emporium provides a preview of the retail giant's latest strategy to boost business as it reaches the saturation point in its American expansion. Over the past two years, Wal-Mart has tested its "store of the community": it has stocked stores in Chicago and Atlanta with products aimed at African-Americans and set up a hitching post at an Ohio store near a large Amish community. The Dearborn store, though, is the most extreme example of the concept. Wal-Mart offers its standard fare, plus 550 items targeted at Middle Eastern shoppers. "In the past, Wal-Mart has been pretty cookie-cutter when it comes to merchandise," says Dearborn store manager Bill Bartell. "But this time, we really got to know the community. We're blazing a trail here."
Typically when Wal-Mart comes to town, it drops its big-box store on the community with a thud. Then it rolls out rock-bottom prices that undercut local merchants, who often wither and die. That Bigfooting has led to passionate community opposition in many markets, including suburban Detroit, where it opened its first supercenter just a year ago to protests over plans to stay open 24 hours (Wal-Mart backed down to 18 hours a day).
To fit into this bastion of ethnic tradition, Wal-Mart started two years ago to meet with imams and moms, conducting focus groups at Middle Eastern restaurants. Wal-Mart learned the community wasn't as concerned about seeing Arabic-language signs as they were with dealing with Arabic-speaking staff. So Bartell hired about 35 Arabic speakers, including Suehaila Amen, a local middle-school teacher who is providing ethnic-sensitivity training to the 650 employees. He also learned not to bother stocking traditional Muslim clothing, like the headscarf, or hijab, Amen wears. "The community told us, 'I would not feel comfortable coming to Wal-Mart to buy my hijab'," says assistant store manager Jordan Berke. "We're not here to overstep our bounds."
Despite the sensitive sell, local shopkeepers still worry about Wal-Mart. "There is a fear factor in the business community," says Osama Siblani, publisher of Dearborn's Arab American News. To allay those fears, Wal-Mart is making an extraordinary promise: it will not undercut the prices of the small local merchants (though it will still go after Kroger). The insular company even agreed to be scrutinized by a "community advisory board" made up of local Arab-American leaders to ensure it isn't harming the mom-and-pop shops. One example: Wal-Mart agreed to charge one dime more than local grocers for a six-pack of pita bread.
Arwa Hamad says her devotion to Dearborn's Muslim merchants doesn't simply rest on one thin dime. After all, when her husband goes to their Arab butcher, he buys in bulk. "It's hard to get half a lamb at Wal-Mart," she says. And yet, the more she wanders the aisles, the more she likes. There are the Turkish sweets and dried dates her kids love, and the Nescafé coffee she adores. "This brings back memories from home," she says. "I'll never forget Mustafa's corner store, but as soon as this place opens, I'm coming here with my checkbook." Going native just might be the next way Wal-Mart wins.
Newsweek Article,
Arab-America’s Store
Wal-Mart stocks falafel, olives and Islamic greeting cards to attract Dearborn's ethnic shoppers.
By Keith Naughton
NEWSWEEK
Updated: 12:49 PM ET Mar 1, 2008
As Arwa Hamad strolls a new Wal-Mart, an eight-foot display of olive oil stops her in her tracks. "Oh, wow," she says, marveling at the sight of so many gallons of Lebanese extra virgin. "We could go through one of these in a week in my house." Around the corner, row upon row of gallon jars of olives—from Turkey, Greece, Egypt and Lebanon—soak in deep hues of purple, red and green. "Look at the size of these olives," says the stay-at-home mother of three and native of Yemen. Hamad, 34, has shopped at Wal-Mart before, but never one like this. She is overcome with nostalgia as she spots Nido powdered milk and Al Haloub Cow, canned meat she calls the "Arabic Spam." "My father loves this," she says. "People from war-torn countries, this is what you lived on when you couldn't go out of the house to shop." This Wal-Mart, though, isn't in a war zone. It's in Dearborn, Mich., home to nearly a half-million Arab-Americans, the largest concentration of Arabs outside the Middle East.
As America changes, so does the store where America shops. In Dearborn this week, the world's largest retailer opens a store like no other among its 3,500 U.S. outlets. Walk through the front door of the 200,000-square-foot supercenter and instead of rows of checkout counters, you find a scene akin to a farmers market in Beirut. Twenty-two tables are stacked high with fresh produce like kusa and batenjan, squash and eggplant used in Middle Eastern dishes. Rimming the produce department are shelves filled with Arab favorites like mango juice from Egypt and vine leaves from Turkey used to make mehshi, or stuffed grape leaves. A walled-off section of the butcher case is devoted to Halal meats, slaughtered in accordance with Islamic law (when a Wal-Mart manager noticed the pork section was too prominent he ordered it moved, since Muslims don't eat pork). In the freezer case, you'll find frozen falafel. You can also pick up a CD from Lebanese pop singer Ragheb Alama or buy Muslim greeting cards.
Wal-Mart's Arab-American emporium provides a preview of the retail giant's latest strategy to boost business as it reaches the saturation point in its American expansion. Over the past two years, Wal-Mart has tested its "store of the community": it has stocked stores in Chicago and Atlanta with products aimed at African-Americans and set up a hitching post at an Ohio store near a large Amish community. The Dearborn store, though, is the most extreme example of the concept. Wal-Mart offers its standard fare, plus 550 items targeted at Middle Eastern shoppers. "In the past, Wal-Mart has been pretty cookie-cutter when it comes to merchandise," says Dearborn store manager Bill Bartell. "But this time, we really got to know the community. We're blazing a trail here."
Typically when Wal-Mart comes to town, it drops its big-box store on the community with a thud. Then it rolls out rock-bottom prices that undercut local merchants, who often wither and die. That Bigfooting has led to passionate community opposition in many markets, including suburban Detroit, where it opened its first supercenter just a year ago to protests over plans to stay open 24 hours (Wal-Mart backed down to 18 hours a day).
To fit into this bastion of ethnic tradition, Wal-Mart started two years ago to meet with imams and moms, conducting focus groups at Middle Eastern restaurants. Wal-Mart learned the community wasn't as concerned about seeing Arabic-language signs as they were with dealing with Arabic-speaking staff. So Bartell hired about 35 Arabic speakers, including Suehaila Amen, a local middle-school teacher who is providing ethnic-sensitivity training to the 650 employees. He also learned not to bother stocking traditional Muslim clothing, like the headscarf, or hijab, Amen wears. "The community told us, 'I would not feel comfortable coming to Wal-Mart to buy my hijab'," says assistant store manager Jordan Berke. "We're not here to overstep our bounds."
Despite the sensitive sell, local shopkeepers still worry about Wal-Mart. "There is a fear factor in the business community," says Osama Siblani, publisher of Dearborn's Arab American News. To allay those fears, Wal-Mart is making an extraordinary promise: it will not undercut the prices of the small local merchants (though it will still go after Kroger). The insular company even agreed to be scrutinized by a "community advisory board" made up of local Arab-American leaders to ensure it isn't harming the mom-and-pop shops. One example: Wal-Mart agreed to charge one dime more than local grocers for a six-pack of pita bread.
Arwa Hamad says her devotion to Dearborn's Muslim merchants doesn't simply rest on one thin dime. After all, when her husband goes to their Arab butcher, he buys in bulk. "It's hard to get half a lamb at Wal-Mart," she says. And yet, the more she wanders the aisles, the more she likes. There are the Turkish sweets and dried dates her kids love, and the Nescafé coffee she adores. "This brings back memories from home," she says. "I'll never forget Mustafa's corner store, but as soon as this place opens, I'm coming here with my checkbook." Going native just might be the next way Wal-Mart wins.
1.3.08
Funny True Story
100% true and it happened to me.
As Reserve Police Officer I'm not allowed to drive the patrol cruiser and as a result I'm always in the passenger seat when I work the road. I prefer it this way, as I responsible for grabbing the spike sticks, shotgun or rifle as I jump out of the car on a call!
I prefer working the midnight to 8a.m. shift, due to other commitments but also due to the increase in the action, so of course when it comes to lunch, that drastically limits our choices to, either packing one from home or the 24-Hour Drive-Thru at McDonalds.
One night, after working three consecutive midnight shifts and eating the same fast-food fare, the cashier noticed the fact that even though I was always with a different partner, I was always in the passenger seat.
So as she leaned out to gave us our order, looking at me she said, "Why don't they ever let you drive?"
Without skipping a beat, I responded, "Because my license is suspended...to many traffic citations!"
As Reserve Police Officer I'm not allowed to drive the patrol cruiser and as a result I'm always in the passenger seat when I work the road. I prefer it this way, as I responsible for grabbing the spike sticks, shotgun or rifle as I jump out of the car on a call!
I prefer working the midnight to 8a.m. shift, due to other commitments but also due to the increase in the action, so of course when it comes to lunch, that drastically limits our choices to, either packing one from home or the 24-Hour Drive-Thru at McDonalds.
One night, after working three consecutive midnight shifts and eating the same fast-food fare, the cashier noticed the fact that even though I was always with a different partner, I was always in the passenger seat.
So as she leaned out to gave us our order, looking at me she said, "Why don't they ever let you drive?"
Without skipping a beat, I responded, "Because my license is suspended...to many traffic citations!"
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