I mean really, get your mind out of the gutter (you’re blocking my view).
Took my granddaughters to Chuck E Cheese today. Scored some major papa points.
I mean really, get your mind out of the gutter (you’re blocking my view).
Took my granddaughters to Chuck E Cheese today. Scored some major papa points.
Yes, another traffic rant. Sorry, not sorry. For any newcomers to the blog, feel free to search for the other traffic rants, there are several.
Here is a video that sums up most of my feelings. But it’s not the video I wanted of Gallagher. He has a short routine about that subject, which we’ll discuss after the video. This is from 1988, so some of the references are a bit dated, but the thoughts are still spot on.
What I want to talk about this time, is what to do when you’re in a left turn lane but can’t make the turn yet. Gallagher has a very nice routine about it, but I couldn’t find just a clip of it.
This is the way I was taught, and I know many of my family members were taught this way as well. Hell, even my mother knew this was the way to do it.
When you’re the first one in the left turn lane your supposed to get your ass out into the middle of the intersection. You have a green light, therefore you have a right to be in the intersection. This will accomplish several things, first it allows the car behind you to also get his/her ass out into the intersection, and second, it allows car #3 to get their front wheels up and over the stop bar. This way when the light turns yellow, all three cars can make the left. You really need to see the routine, as Gallagher’s physical mannerisms make it so funny.
I hope this is a lesson you can take with you. Because if I have one more moron stopped at the stop bar and not even trying to turn left when there’s a break in traffic… Well, let’s just say it won’t be pretty.
(In case you are not aware of what a “phish” is, in broad terms, it is an email designed to make you click on a link, or open an infected attachment. Once the link is clicked or that infected attachment opened, your machine (and this works on Windows, Apple, and Linux) will become a “host” for a variety of nefarious activities.)
This information came from one of the vendors we use at the city, KnowBe4. We use the tools they provide to send simulated phishing attacks to all our employees. It’s one of the fun aspects of my job. Here is a very specific phish threat they sent a notice about. I felt it important enough to pass along.
I was alerted by a customer about a really difficult scenario that’s becoming all the more frequent. While there’s probably little that can be done in terms of tuning your spam filters and endpoint security tools, new-school security awareness training can make a difference. Here is the story:
“Over the past few months, we have been hit with increasing frequency with an attack that follows this 5-step pattern;
- A known vendor or customer falls victim to a phishing attack. Their email credentials are compromised, and the “bad guy” gets access to their email account.
- They start by changing the password, so that the victim no longer has control.
- They then comb through past email correspondence, and using the victim’s account, signature, and logo, send out targeted emails crafted to closely resemble legit correspondence they have had with our company in the past.
- Depending on the “bad guy’s” dedication to his craft, these could be fairly generic, or extremely specific. We’ve received one with an inquiry that referenced a specific real invoice # for that individual.
- The email always includes a spreadsheet or PDF. The name can be generic, or can be really specific. We’ve received one titled with a specific real invoice # for that individual.
Because these emails are coming from a real email account for a real business partner, they are very hard to identify, and in some cases they are literally impossible to detect, as they are carefully crafted copies of past legitimate emails. Naturally, there are a few that cast a wide net, so they are more generic and often contain corrupted grammar or spelling, but others are indistinguishable from real emails.”
What To Do About This Threat
Granted, this is a frustrating and dangerous situation, as the majority of the red flags users have been trained to watch for simply aren’t present if the scammer uses a highly targeted approach like this.
However, there is one cardinal rule that you need to stress with your users to protect against a scenario like this: DID THEY ASK FOR THE ATTACHMENT?
If they did not, before the attachment is opened, it’s a very good idea to double check using an out-of-band channel like the phone to call and ask if they sent this and why it was sent . There is little else that can be done.
Yes, that is a little more work. But also, better safe than sorry. You have to constantly work on and reinforce your security culture, anywhere in the world.
As you can see, this is very scary. Especially in a corporate environment. The biggest thing to take away from this is if you get an email with an attachment THAT YOU DIDN’T REQUEST, DO NOT OPEN THE ATTACHMENT! This holds true even if you recognize the sender. The sender field on an email can be spoofed very easily.
So, as I’ve said before, keep your antivirus/antimalware up-to-date, and scan your machine on a regular basis. One of the catchphrases of KnowBe4 is “Think Before You Click”. Wise words to live by.
Happy and safe interneting my friends.
But on 25 May 2021, I will turn the magic age of 62 1/2 years old. Provided ol’ 45 doesn’t change the retirement age, on Friday 28 May 2021 I am retiring (told the boss I’d finish out the week just to be nice). I’ve already done my 20 years in the Army, and quite frankly, I’m done. Stick a fork in me.
The current countdown (give or take a few seconds since I took the snip)..
But like I said, I’m not counting down or anything.
P.S. Yes I know it’s a long way off, but these “Stupid End Users” I deal with day in and day out required me to put the countdown on my PC so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
P.P.S. I’m always worried when I click the spell check button on the WP editor and it says “No writing errors found”. I think it’s just fucking with my mind…
Yes, that was a lifetime ago. I’ll bet some of you reading this were not alive. There may even a possibility that your parents weren’t around then.
My best friend from my junior year of high school, even until now, is Maurice (I’ll leave the last names out to protect the guilty). Maurice and I, or Mo as he goes by now (which is funny since I have a niece named Melissa that also goes by Mo – guess it’s a unisex thing), used to sit and dream big dreams. And we were very seldom under the influence of anything other than, to quote Zonker Harris of “Doonesbury”, “Just getting high on life and America”. Oh, you probably don’t know anything of “Doonesbury”, here’s a quick tutorial.
One of our dreams was to open a gym in Austin Texas. Mo was very much into bodybuilding, me not so much. When I left for basic training, October of 1976, I stood 5′ 10″ tall and weighed 119 lbs provided I had eaten a large meal beforehand. Mo, on the other hand, stood about 6′ 2″, and had to weigh about 225, maybe 250. And it was all solid muscle. My niece’s little girlfriends (we’re talking 8th graders here, and we are both around 20), loved it when Mo came to the house to visit. Much fawning and adoration went his way.
But to get back to the story. We made up a corporation “The Body Shop” that would be the parent company of all our other businesses. He would have his gym, and I would have my music recording studio and publishing company. Of course, none of this ever happened, nor did we really expect it too. It was just a way to waste time during the day before going out to drink.
Our only other pastime was “The Great Search For The Blue Nehi”. But that’ll be another post. (And Frodo has nothing on our search).
This weekend, instead of going to the St. Augustine Celtic Music Festival like we had planned, instead Wifey® and I cleaned out the closet of what used to my home office. It’s now the bedroom our granddaughter-the-younger. She is 6 years old, so I guess it’s about time we cleaned it out so she has a place to hang her dresses. Of course, my Awia quadrophonic reel-to-reel tape deck, my dual cassette dubbing deck, my turntable and my 4 channel mixing board are still in the closet, simply because I have no other place to put them. I still need to find a place for all my old music books.
I’m sure you’re asking “just where is this story going”? Well, this something I found while cleaning out the closest, buried in the middle of my music books as well.
Some notes: Mo has always liked to try out different names. In this note, he uses “Hezikiah”. He once tried to set up a “New Persona” using the name Merlyn Cully Cross, which he found in a book and was rather taken with. I think he only managed to get a library card with that name. I have had the nickname “Skeeter” for as long as I can remember. Also, there should be a “G Clef” (for you music people between the “Skeet” and “Music”, but apparently this WordPress editor doesn’t have that).
Recorded by “The Foolish Brothers Band” on the “Would You Believe This?” album: “Late For My Own Funeral”.
(c) 1977 SkeetMusic, rights for the world administered by S&H Music, Austin, Tx.
(P) 1977 S&H Music, a division of The Body Shop, Inc., Austin, Tx.
Note: Although this has been copyrighted in July of 1977 and recorded in August of 1977, as of August of 1979 it has not been released due to the fact that “The Foolish Brothers Band” cannot get a major recording company to finance their “Would You Believe This?” label.
The Foolish Brothers Band is (are);
Skeeter: Lead Vocals; Lead & Rhythm Electric Guitars; Acoustic 6 & 12 string guitars; Acoustic guitar body; Various & sundry things lying around the room that make noise; foul words.
Hezikiah: Background Vocals; Lead & Rhythm electic guitars; Acoustic 6 & 2 string guitars; Acoustic guitar body; Anything else lying about the room that makes noises; Dirty language
R.M; D.M; P.B; M.W; K.W; T.W; A.S; L.S; (“The Get Outtahere Choir”); funny little noises in the background
So there you have. A little piece of nostalgia from my misspent youth. Hope you enjoyed this. I know finding this little scrap of paper gave me great joy, and hopefully, you got a kick out of it too.
And Mo, we definitely need to get together again real soon. Love ya man!
Thursday night I didn’t feel like reading, I watch very little TV, and my favorite show, The X-Files Wifey® will not watch. But that’s okay, as I don’t like most of the shows she watches. So on nights like this, I usually put in my ear buds and blast my 60’s or 70’s music one level below “make your ears bleed”. After years of playing bands, being a DJ, and all the Army days with lots of explosions and such, my ears are pretty much goners.
I was also very fond of the old JBL poster, “Blown Away”.
But, I digress as usual. I was deep into about my 5th beer that night when one of my favorite songs of Bob Seger came on. Main Street. It reminded me of days long past when I used to frequent a little strip club. My best friend and I would go, have some beer, and watch the girls. I was so jealous that he could start up a conversation with any of the dancers, while I just drank my beer and said next to nothing. There really wasn’t any one girl in particular that caught my eye. I found them all very attractive, or maybe seductive would be a better word. We rarely stayed until closing time, so there was no standing and watching them leave like the song says. But the feeling is very close. And there was no way I could have asked any of the ladies “out on a date”, hell I could barely look them in the eye when they came around the table.Well, that’s my story.
Don’t know why I’m putting this out there, other than to play the video for the song again. So here it is.
(With apologies to Jimmy Buffett)
If my body is indeed a temple, it’s much like this;
Or really, more like this;
In ruins, ignored except by a group of feces slinging monkeys. Even though I pray this prayer almost every night;
Guess I’m not doing it right, which is nothing new. For me anyway…
Today the 77th annual Daytona Beach Bike Week starts. Originally this event was nothing more than a small dirt bike race. It has now ballooned into a 10-day event (I hesitate to call it a festival) that floods our local streets with upwards of 250,000 motorcycle “enthusiasts”. We get everything from the rich doctors and lawyers riding their $100,000 custom bikes (which only come out of the garage for this event – they’re not even ridden into town, the bikes are usually in a toy-hauler to protect them from the elements – or they just rent them), to some very serious biker types (not exactly Hell’s Angels or Outlaws, or at least if they are gang members they’re smart enough to remove their colors before coming into town). Usually, the majority of the bikers are your everyday rider that goes out on weekends and when the weather is nice kind of folks.
But that doesn’t make them your regular tourist. Remember, Daytona is tourist income based town. We have four major events every year that keep the revenue up. Two bike events, and two NASCAR race events. Everybody that I know that works in the hospitality or food industry (both of my sons, one ex-daughter-in-law, and one current girlfriend) will tell you that they’d rather have bikers over race fans any day.
Race fans, which will number in the 75,000 to 100,000 range depending on which race week we’re talking about, don’t seem to understand that a small town like Daytona cannot handle that many people at the same time. Our restaurants will have waiting times of two hours or more, run out of certain high demand items (i.e. snow crabs), and just generally be a miserable place to be. Us locals tend to stay at home during these times.
Bikers, on the other hand, have no problem waiting for a place to eat. They just go grab a beer a hang out in the parking lots when there’s no room anywhere else. Most restaurants will have one or more “Beer Tubs” in the parking lot with pretty girls in short shorts and crop tops selling beer (usually at the same price as usual – quantity is king).
When we first came to Daytona (1997), most the bike week festivities took place just a mile or two up the street from our apartment. So other than the Harley’s gunning up and down the road outside the windows making it impossible to listen to the TV, it was no big deal to walk up to the “party area” have some fun and walk home.
But then Daytona did it’s usual (got greedy and/or stupid). They had already driven the Spring Break TV shows away, we still do get some college kids, but not like it used to be when MTV would be here every year. Now they set their sights on Bike Week. Daytona Harley Davidson (the area where everything happened just up the road from us) used to rent the big grassy area across from the Harley shop really cheap. I’ve heard anything from $1000 to as cheap as $1, so I don’t know for sure. But I do know that city raised the “rent” to $10,000. So, the guy that owned the Harley dealership closed that shop and moved north to an unincorporated area of the county. He built a huge complex. Not only his new Harley Shop but a hotel, restaurants, a truck shop, even a motorcycle mechanic school. The area is called Destination Daytona (even though it’s not within the city limits). There is also a nice covered open-air concert pavilion.
One other area that the bikers still go is Main Street. Yes, Daytona really has a Main Street, although it’s only on the beachside, once you cross the bridge it’s Fairview Ave. The city engineers loved to play with street names back in the day. This place gets packed. It’s lined with bars and clubs on both sides. You’ll see every type of motorcycle you can think of parked along the road, all nice and neatly backed in. The crowds are worse than Disney on the 4th of July (and I’ve been to Disney on the 4th, it’s freaking crazy). About every 100 feet you’ll find a “Beer Tub” as I describe above, except the prices are a bit higher on Main Street.
And the people! You’ll see so much leather you think the Village People are performing. Men and women in chaps (and there’s no telling what some of the women are or aren’t wearing under the chaps). Leather jackets or vests all over the place. It’s a bit scary to see what appears to be a gynecologist or a real estate broker wearing all leather, drinking a Mich Ultra, while talking to the tax accountant, also wearing leather chaps, a leather vest with a very clean Harley patch (only worn once a year) and also drinking a Mich Ultra, probably raspberry flavored. While their rented Harley’s sit out at the curb. Best patch I’ve ever seen during a bike week event said: “$10,000 and 10,000 miles doesn’t make you a biker!”
Standing right next to them will be the Euro bikers. We get many from Europe that come over for this event. They will have the BMWs and Triumphs parked out front. They are easy to recognize, as they will be considerably younger, and have the Kevlar padded road suits instead of leather. Oh, they’ll be drinking Grolsch or Stella Artois (which I think is Belgium for Budweiser).
The official website for the event is: http://officialbikeweek.com/ (Not real original is it?). Sometimes a location will have a webcam streaming, so look for those if you’d like.
And in case you’re wondering, no I do not ride. Like most things in life, I’m simply a voyeur. I’ve only been on a motorcycle once in my entire life when I was about 8. Just doesn’t appeal to me, nor do jet skis, four-wheelers or any of that ilk. Oh well.
And I’m not complaining about the events or the bikers. I thoroughly enjoy bike week. The weather is usually beautiful (but, it does tend to rain the first weekend – very odd that’s it’s always that one weekend). I get to see some beautiful bikes as I go to and from work and sometimes so very attractive ladies on those bikes. I no longer attend any of the free concerts or other events, but we do not hesitate to go out for dinner during bike week like we do on race weeks. The bikers are much more fun.
“I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The sinners are much more fun.” ~ Billy Joel – Only The Good Die Young
P.S. If you do a Google Image search for “Daytona Bike Week” you *may* want to turn “safe search” on depending on who may be looking over your shoulder (children/boss/small furry animals/etc…). You’ve been warned.
Today we honor women internationally? Why do we only have one day for this? I feel we should honor everybody every day, not just one day a year. But since I’m not the King, I’ll go with the flow. So in no particular order (other than my own faulty memory)…
First, of course, has to be Wifey®. Why she is still with me after all these years is a mystery. Every day when I turn the corner and see our house I look to see if her car is there (she works much closer to home than I do and get there before me). I fully expect it not to be there one day. Mainly because I’m such as ass to live with. Love ya, Babe!
Ladies that have passed on;
“Nanny”. Josephine “Josie” Bodle Campbell. My dad’s mother. Since my mom worked when I was young, Nanny lived with us and was the strongest guiding force of my childhood. She did her best to instill “Christian values”, although I’m not sure they all took hold. But she did teach me to respect others and to love everything as best I could.
My mother-in-law, Cornelia Greene Moore. We got along much better than I did with my own mother. I’ll admit, she had her doubts about me in the beginning (and who could blame her?). But it didn’t take long until I became like one of her sons. She showed me exactly how to accept others despite differences and find a common ground.
Ladies that are still with me;
Rev. Sonja Phillips. Even though I don’t think the mantle of “Christian” ever fit me, she allowed me to ask my faith questions without judging me. She taught me more about grace in one comment than 50 years of sermons ever did.
Melissa Cargile (who should have a “Rev” in front of her name as well). Nobody gave me the faith to get out and play my music like she did. Because of her, I had to learn more about the craft of playing my guitar and singing than ever. Especially when she would spring a new song on the band at practice and tell me I’m singing lead. No pressure or anything.
I’ll also add Wifey’s® “breakfast group” of ladies. I won’t list them individually because I’m sure I’d leave someone out, but I thank them for giving Wifey® a place to speak her mind (and bitch about me I’m sure). Everybody needs a group of friends, and I thank these ladies for being that for her.
Ladies I’ve met but interact with on Social Media a lot;
Kaitlin Curtice. Author, Patawommi Native. Another Christian that has allowed this agnostic to ask questions, and even argue at times, and never “fought” back. Just kindness and grace in return.
Kiersten (sorry don’t know her last name – like I said, its Social Media). Her courage in talking openly about her Eating Disorder (or Ed as she calls it like it has a real name – I like that, naming your problems) is astounding. Plus the books she reviews on her blog have given Wifey® and I a few new books to read (but she doesn’t read my theology/philosophy books, so it’s a one-way reference).
And before my family starts texting me asking why I left my own mother off this list, you have to remember I was an “unplanned” baby. As the joke goes, my parents went on a second honeymoon and brought me home. As such, I felt I was in the way more than my much older siblings. Mom worked even after I had left home and joined the military. She didn’t spend nearly as much time with me as Nanny did. And there’s not much worse for a little kid to overhear his parents saying “We can’t do that because of HIM…”
I could list lots more, but I’m at work, so my time is limited. Please add other names in a comment below. I’d love to hear about the ladies that inspired you.
(With apologies to Warren Zevon)
I have to admit that I don’t agree with Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part 2, Act IV, Scene 2;
“The first thing we do is kill all the lawyers”
I know several lawyers and even accountants that don’t deserve such a fate. Although many do. I think Dante had a level reserved just for those of that profession.
However, (yes another traffic rant is coming), there would be a special place in Hell, if I believed that such a place existed, for idiots that will never use a turn signal, jerks who think that using a turn signal automagically gives them right of way, and especially the asshats that refuse to drive the speed limit no matter in which lane they are blocking traffic.