Springtime in the Condo

I can tell it is spring time in the condo when the grow lite turns on... we grow our plants from seeds and then put them out on our little deck. Last year we started too early, especially since we barely had a summer at all. But we did great with jalapeno peppers our plants kicked off literally hundreds of peppers; we had 70 still in the freezer until recently.

Wrigley Field 2010

I went to my first Cub game of the season. I used to live near Wrigley in the 1990's and Dan used to visit a lot; the area has been immensely cleaned up and upgraded since then. While walking around before the game the whole neighborhood was as crazy as ever, and there are lots of new clubs, bars and restaurants.



The CTA has definitely upgraded the train lines recently. Last year I wrote about how they rebuilt stations and improved performance on the ancient brown line. They also have made a ton of progress on the red line, as far as slow spots are concerned; the ride from the loop to Wrigley was much faster than in prior years, when it actually seemed like you could get out and walk faster than the train.



There is a big Captain Morgan bar out front of Wrigley Field - you can go here even if you don't have a ticket to the game (this is good for tourists since they can get close even if the game is sold out).



The Sports Corner bar, which used to be a hole in the wall across the street from Wrigley, is now IMMENSE. It is multiple stories with the 3rd deck open for summertime drinking. It looks like something built in the Eastern bloc or something.



We had some great weather and got to sit right near Zambrano when he warmed up before coming out in the late innings as a reliever. It seemed like he threw 100 warmup pitches and he was pounding his bullpen catcher.

The most important innovation was that they put in shelves above the troughs in the men's washroom so that you can set your beer up there.

The Illini vs. Northwestern football game will be at Wrigley Field on November 20th. To have the opportunity to buy tickets you had to buy Northwestern season tickets; so now oddly enough I am the (?) proud owner of 4. Oh well guess I will go to the game in Illini colors and root against them, although I must admit that Northwestern sure is a well coached and good program, especially since their students likely aren't academic deadwood and leave-your-buddy-for-dead type athletes like we have at the good ol' U of I. That game will be quite an experience.

I Got One.

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Look what came in the mail yesterday, my own lifetime permit to carry personal protection. It’s valid in Indiana, Michigan and other reciprocating carry states.


Before last year Indiana required a renewal of the permit every four years. Being a state that honors the Constitution our legislators and Governor Mitch signed legislation allowing non-felons the right to carry for life (pun intended).

My last permit ran out in early March. I went in to my local P.D. in February to get the ball rolling. Fingerprints, FBI background check, State Police background check and a final approval by our Chief of Police. The process usually took one month and a money order but this time it was over two months.

Now I am legally exercising my Constitutional right again, unless I use it recklessly. How many gang bangers in Chicago go through all the jumps I did before choosing to carry a gun?

It always seemed odd to me that no photo is required on the permit, it’s a simple pink sheet with cut out lines. After copying it will be cut out and laminated later today. And I will be carrying. Just because I can.


Here in the free world known as Indiana our U.S. Constitution still means something. And that means a lot to me.
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Inside Dan's Fridge

Now I know what to get Dan, the guy who has everything... his own mini-keg of Miller Lite for his fridge!

Down Deep

Over at My Muay Thai, Nopstar has issued the 30 Second Challenge. This is something I can make a go at. The idea is to get in 50 GOOD kicks in 30 seconds on the pads. The rules are pretty easy, just no sissy taibo style cardio kicks. For those who don't know, a good thai kick means that you rotate on the ball of your support foot and clear your hips out so the kick can come through with maximum power. This drill is very exhausting - at the end you just want to die. I made it to 47 but if I trained for this drill I know I could make 50. But it is nasty - it hurts down deep in your lungs - so I will just be happy with 47.

Market Timing

In the past I, like many general investors, shied away from the concept of market timing. It was viewed as too difficult, and many investors left the markets when stocks went down and then missed the rally on the way up, essentially "buying high and selling low". Instead, investors were advised to "stay the course" and keep investing, assuming that, over time, the rising markets would reward continuous faith with high returns.

An article in Sunday's Chicago Tribune showed in a crystal clear fashion that, in fact, market timing is the ONLY issue for stocks, at least nowadays. This article shows stock performance for the top 50 stocks by market capitalization based in the Chicago region.

EVERY SINGLE STOCK is showing positive performance over the last 12 months! What are the odds of that, assuming that the stock market has its ebbs and flows? Very remote. The ONLY issue in the market over the last few years has been timing; everyone lost in late 2008 when the market cratered, and everyone who bought in at the trough made a lot of money. Likely to see this same article in late 2008 virtually 100% of the top 50 firms would be in negative territory over the prior year.

While I can't say for certain what is driving stock performance UP (now) or DOWN (2008), I can say that virtually the entire market is extremely correlated with this phenomenon, as indicated by the top 50 stocks all being in positive territory.

Recent articles I have seen point to returns as being closely tied to the P/E level; when you buy into a "cheap" P/E market, you do well; when you buy into an "expensive" P/E market, you do poorly. While no one can say for certain what cheap or expensive really means, that broad theory is one that might be crucial to stock investing post 2000. In modern history (the last 30 years) there hasn't been a long period where stocks traded in such a narrow range (around the Dow 10,000 level); but we need to decide how to weight the last few decades against the entire history of the stock market.

While I am not a professional stock adviser, the fact that 50 out of 50 of the top Chicago stocks (by market capitalization) are all up has to be a signal of some sort.

Cross posted at Chicago Boyz and Trust Funds for Kids

Utility Regulation & The Poor

When I first started getting into the utility business I remember that I was on an airplane traveling to a client in another city when I started talking with a woman yesterday who had a young son. She asked what I did for a living and I said that I worked with utilities. Her son piped up "Are you the man who turns off the power?" and that killed the conversation (mom was embarrassed and I learned to be careful about too much information).

One of the different elements about utilities is that they serve all customers. Since utilities are a "natural monopoly" (meaning that it doesn't make sense to have two companies stringing up electric poles side by side) the flip side of giving them monopoly rights is that they must provide for all the customers in their "service territory". While most of the readers of this blog probably never interact with the utility company unless they move or have an outage, utilities spend a significant amount of time and money on collections and turn-on, turn-off activities for poorer customers. Each of these events is preceded by multiple calls, collection attempts, and then physical visits, none of which make money for the utility.

While a lot of this made sense when utilities were regulated monopolies, now many regions have significantly "de-regulated", which mainly means that the generators of power are free to charge what they want and the local utility makes its money by passing on power costs and charging more for their profits. In the case of Illinois, where Exelon provides (most of) the power and then their fully-owned subsidiary Commonwealth Edison provides power to residents (and complains about the high cost of power that it passes on), no one is shedding tears for Exelon. However, in other areas where the generation and distribution companies are actually separate, you need to start thinking harder about the cost of poorer residents in your service territory.



This article describes the (sad) case of a disabled resident in Bronzeville (a less affluent area in Chicago) who is complaining to the Chicago Tribune that the local gas utility won't turn on the fuel in an article titled "Gas Shut-off Leaves Disabled Man in the Cold". In the article, the man hasn't paid his bill, so the utility comes and turns off his service in April, and the man is angry and complains to the newspaper.

In fact, this was my understanding of how it was supposed to work - the utility can't turn off your heat in the winter, so they wait until spring and demand repayment, and if you can't pay, your heat is turned off. In many instances people try to get around this by registering under another name, moving, etc... but this guy just complained to the paper and his gas was turned back on. From the article:

"It took them a long time", he said, "It was very clear to ma that the gas company couldn't care less. They just don't care."
He said he doesn't know where he'll get the money to pay his outstanding balance, but his heat is back on. And that's good enough for now.

In true lazy journalism style, the article ends there. But why didn't the journalist ask some deeper questions?

WHY are utilities forced to provide services to customers who 1) haven't paid 2) have made clear that they have no intention of paying?

Go to the poorer neighborhoods; there are no grocery stores, no local services, nothing, except liquor stores, convenience stores and gas stations. Why don't we force large retailers or grocery stores to do business in that area, with customers who are promising not to pay? Because it is absurd... you can't make a business go into an area where it is guaranteed to lose money, correct?

And yet for utilities, we still haven't fully grasped the "flip side" of deregulation; who is going to pay for the poor, and are we going to give services to those that can't pay (and burden everyone else's bills as a result) indefinitely? Is this a new "right", that can't be taken away? If so, we are going about this in a lousy manner - the same houses that the poor are likely to live in have poor insulation (ever hear of a landlord investing for the poor) and the utility has an expensive method of nagging and then sending someone to turn off the power, and then back on.

These aren't flippant questions, even though the journalist who wrote this article didn't understand that at all.

If one played this out to a logical conclusion, the local utility would want to "spin off" poorer neighborhoods that are less profitable unless they can pass these costs on to other customers (through rate regulation). In fact, it could make sense to PAY someone to take a service territory filled with poor customers off your hands.

Some day we will need to face up to these questions when utilities are fully deregulated and power is scarce and costly. For now, the reduced price of natural gas and a fall in demand caused by "the Great Recession" has limited our problems; but they will come back with a vengeance later.

Cross posted at Chicago Boyz

Cool Dude

Recently I was out near the old Rush Street bars (think Mothers) and I noticed this guy who looked like he was also hanging out here when "About Last Night" first was filmed. Cool, dude.

Monday Morning Blues

Auto Racing. For The Rest Of Us.

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Back here I wrote about my unintended acquaintance with the Sports Car Club of America or SCCA. Today I attended my first SCCA event held at the Majestic Star Casino parking lot on the Indiana Lake Michigan shoreline.


My intent was not to race but to see what this is all about. I like what I saw despite the intermittent rain showers. These guys race rain or shine.

It’s generically referred to as Autocross but as a ‘brand’ the SCCA calls it Solo because it is more or less a time trial since you race against the clock, not other autos.

These activities amount to organized do-it-yourself affordable auto racing events for the unwashed masses. Take a large slab of asphalt, design a course then mark it off with orange cones and chalk. They use laser-timing devices that measure to 100th of a second. Autos are placed in class categories depending on wheelbase, body style, seat arrangement, horsepower and degree of modification for the more serious types.

When I arrived there were cars ranging from a Porsche Cayman S to a 1964 VW Beetle gathered in a makeshift paddock area. One enthusiast had a large RV and a trailer containing a competition Corvette. Someone told me the guy was an original founding member of this local club. He also has deep pockets.

All were auto racing enthusiasts from many backgrounds who just want to race even if their ride is a four door Dodge Neon that was probably driven to the grocery store by the wife that morning.


After wandering around for some time I met up with Charlie, the guy I met a few weeks ago who talked me into checking this out. He’s my age and is also a Mazda owner so we have something in common. We walked the course in what is called a novice walk where a guy named Jeff explained how to read the cones that mark the course. At first glance there are cones haphazardly strewn about. Soon I learned the secret symbolism. A standing cone with another nearby on its side marks an apex, pointing the direction to turn. Multiple cones lying down pointing in one direction was another navigational aid. There were a lot of turns and two slalom sections but not much one would call a straightaway.


What I found odd is that nobody knew how long the course was. But they told me times would be anywhere in the 50-60 range. Most cars would not be going over 50 mph so we’ll just call it a mile. Another discovery, most drivers would not go beyond second gear. Each registered participant would get 6-8 runs and the fastest time would be their rank for the day.


Charlie told me to bring a helmet. All drivers and passengers must wear a full helmet. He came up to me at one point and asked if I wanted to ride with a participant for a lap. The car was a BMW and the driver’s name was John. He explained that having a passenger in an event like this was not a minus because of the additional weight but an asset due to better stability. John sure drove his car like he stole it. I swear my vision was a bit blurred during the ride. We came very close to spinning out a few times due to the wet pavement. He didn’t hit any cones surprisingly (a 1 sec. penalty) and definitely knew what he was doing. He did the course in 55 seconds.


Skidding out twice slowed him down enough to slow his overall time by at least two seconds. It was still a thrill for a newbie like me.

Next month I am going to give this a try for shits and giggles and hopefully there will be a dry pavement. The following event occurs one week before going to the Indy 500 so I should be more fired up to drive fast than usual.


Coming in last will not be disappointing. But if I get beat by that 60’s VW don’t expect a follow-up report.
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No Shillin’ Here, Nope. It’s Just A Humble Gun Review.

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But if you are in the market for a dependable, accurate, easy to maintain and competitively priced shotgun to take in the field take a look at the Benelli.



Always being a Browning guy my experience with the Benelli Nova 12 ga pump last week sure had my attention. I shot some clays and applied it to field-testing on wild turkeys as well. They also have a sexy website. Leave it to the Italians.

My Browning BPS has served me well. I wanted a 30” barrel chambered both for a 3” mag option to the standard 2.75” for waterfowl purposes. The screw-in choke tubes were new back then and are still highly recommended when purchasing a field gun. When I bought it almost thirty years ago there were no optional finishes, just glossy wood and blued metal. That caused me to handle it carefully to avoid eventual scratches and nicks. That’s hard to do when trudging to a muddy duck blind or walking through thickets. I tried using camo tape for protection but it always came undone making it awkward to handle and creating a potential hazard.

The Benelli Nova pump I shot last week was lightweight with a dull camo metal finish that is very resistant to scratches and camo polymer replacing the traditional wood. It shoulders well and swings easily. It’s designed recoil suppression system made it comfortable to shoot even when blasting 3.5” magnum loads. And the accuracy is damn good with the choke tubes allowing for short to distant ranges.

The guns I own are tools, not for display on a mantle or showing off to friends. When used they are subject to abuse. I don’t need some delicate jewelry when out in the woods I want a dependable tool.

The Benelli Super Nova 12 ga is now seriously on my wish list, but I will opt for the semi-auto without the pistol grip. If expert marksman Tom Knapp chooses Benelli it’s good enough for me.



Damn, and I thought I would never be buying another gun. Maybe a trade-in is in order.

UPDATE: Proof is in the results. Huntinbuddy just emailed a photo he took in the field of my turkey and me with his iphone. Not bad image quality at all. Jake by GFV. Killed with a Benelli Nova and 3.5" Remington turkey load.


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Benellis And Biscuits

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Huntinbuddy wrote to me last week inviting me to his farm in southwestern Illinois to, as he said, “kill a wild turkey”. While a yearly trip to his many nearby waterfowl haunts in autumn were always among the high points of my outdoor year he often spoke of bagging wild turkey in the springtime. Before last Tuesday it’s something I never tried. To me, spring always meant fishing for a boatload of delicious early crappie or perch out on the water, not hunting in the woods.

He owns a over a thousand or so acres of extremely fertile farmland on four different parcels southwest of Springfield that he leases as production land to local farmers. Each features rolling prairie bordered by meandering streams, creeks, tree-lined rich farmland loam, wooded windbreaks and dense hardwoods where the re-introduced eastern strain of wild turkey now thrive in the wild. His success at dancing with turkeys is locally famous and his harvest success ratio is legendary judging by the photo album he keeps.

Last weekend he emailed live mobile phone snapshots to me from his blind sitting along a tree line displaying large gobblers that were jousting in the background with young jakes. All were vying for the attention of fertile hens amongst his decoys. He sent text messages Sunday telling me to drop what I was doing and get down here now because they’re “really hot!”

After a phone call to confirm I packed up the camo along with extra underwear, a toothbrush, my Browning 12 ga. and left Monday afternoon for the springtime woods in the Land Of Lincoln.

Huntinbuddy lives in an updated old farmhouse with barns, sheds, outbuildings, some horses and a respectable pond. His homestead is on the far outskirts of a medium size Illinois farming community. It’s a hidden little piece of paradise I love to visit. It’s invisible from any road and accessible only by a one-lane quarter mile long uneven gravel easement path.

Upon arrival late in the evening he acquainted me with the quick basics of hunting wild turkey after a few get-together cocktails and snacks. First he told me to forget every outdoor cable show wild turkey video I ever watched, they make it look too complicated he claimed. His simple advice was to visually become part of a tree trunk on the tree line, keep a low profile and minimize my movement and noise. Position yourself for the most comfortable concealed shot and just wait he said. The rest was up to me.

We would be hunting his private and most productive combination agricultural and wild game property. We examined this property on google earth satellite images. He showed me where we would enter, where the larger flocks roosted and the location of our ground blind positions. Meet NASA, you turkeys.

At this point in the season he observed that due to the unseasonable early warmth hens were already mated and sitting on their nests, eliminating the need for mate calling, although he would use his box call sparingly just to get some attention.

We would depend on luring in a one-year old jake or better yet, a two to three year old tom turkey (hens are never in season) with decoys alone. He did not want to alarm any birds by over calling. Since I was only staying for three morning hunts he told me to take the first bird that closely approached my decoys and bag it even if it was the smaller jake. Another shot may not happen during my short time there and he wanted me to go home with some tasty turkey meat, a first for me. I agreed. Seeing them would be a thrill but getting them into the kill zone may not be easy.

Finally he told me that after a bird was hit and flopped around to stand up immediately, slowly approach the bird and then pump another round into the chamber. If the bird appeared to be recovering and about to flee another shot may be in order. Made sense. These are big, thick-skinned birds and the only way to put them down was a shot aimed just below the head. I don’t know about you but I like my breasts lead-free.

At 4 am on day one we enjoyed fresh ham, cheddar and chive biscuits and Cuban espresso.


He told me to leave my Browning behind and handed me one of his Benelli long barrel pump guns with a very handsome camouflage finish. It could handle 3 ½” turkey loads. Into turkeyland we went.

After traveling about twenty miles to where the four-lane turned into a two-lane that turned into a twisting maze of hilly one-lane roads we arrived before daybreak. Once on the property we rode the edges of freshly planted cornfields as they met the wooded tree line riding in his slick new Ford F-150 that was loaded with cool options.

Climbing out of the truck and into the inky darkness wearing my camo coverall I grabbed my strategically prepared fanny pack, shotgun and folding camo ground chair. His special turkey vest contained the foam decoys as we trekked down a hill, across a planted cornfield to the location I would sit. He placed long plastic stakes in the ground at twenty paces into the field from the tree I would call home for the next four hours. The decoys were placed on top of the stakes. He left for his spot at a place I could see where his shots would be at a ninety-degree angle from mine for visual coverage and safety. I nestled into the base of the tree after I gathered a few branches and tallgrass to act as a blind.

Gobbles came from the high roosts on a wooded hill behind us. As the daylight emerged so did many other sounds, some familiar and some not. The woods were slowly waking up and gave me chills. Owls hooting, quails chirping the classic “Bob White” quail calls, woodpeckers pecking and songbirds singing. There were no other sounds. No cars, semis, tractors or train whistles in the distance, none. All I heard was nature in all it's purity. In the creek behind me came a quick bloopbloop. I guess it was a frog on the surface, a sound that reminded me of artificial popping lures being tugged by my fishing rod. The noise was startling and curious as it continued intermittently. Mice scurried about under the thick emerging tallgrass around me. Snakes as well, I would be told later.

Once in position my left knee was bent upward acting as a rest for the Benelli with my right leg curled beside parallel to the ground in a low reclining position. My attempt was to be totally prepared for when a male turkey became interested enough in the two cheesey-looking foam decoys in front of me to get off a close shot. Quiet and concealment are a must. This was truly relaxing with anticipation acting as my caffeine.

Thus began a completely new spiritual outdoor experience for me. Instead of turning brown with dying leaves the trees were springing to life around me in a fresh hue of bright green. The gurgles, squaks, hoots, honks, gobbles, chirps and clucks continued to surround and rapture me as the sun peeked over the horizon to my rear. Groups of honkers flew by in pairs well within range and out of season as well. The earth itself was awakening with a vibrant new life, not the slow, slumbering death that is autumn. This was a true celebration of new life, not an autumn retirement party.

The next few hours provided me with a pleasurable and different outdoor experience if not for one small detail. Not one turkey would appear. At 9 am I watched as huntinbuddy left his blind to pull up his decoys, I did the same. The rest of the day I helped him with farm chores. I learned a great deal about the modern day agri-biz.

We retired to the farm house for some luscious biscuits and decadent gravy.


The following morning had no promise of bird activity since the weather was a carbon copy of the previous day. But turkeys do not behave as ducks, geese an deer and are as unpredictable in their own way. After a fine breakfast of coffee and biscuits we jumped in the pickup truck and ventured out into the dark fresh early morning air.


Settling into my spot on this morning I noticed the gobbles now came from all directions, not just one location as the day before. Each and every sound seemed louder on this day and the air was no longer as crisp, lacking even a breeze.

It was early and things can change. They did.

In early dim light I noticed a doe entering my field of view to the right. Using my eyes instead of turning my head I watched as the cautious doe approached. This would be a good test for my concealment effort. She sensed me, looking right at me about fifty yards away. Nervously nosing the ground for seed she was being followed by two smaller does. After coming as close as thirty yards she sensed the path we made walking across the field and quickly reversed course, the others followed. We were not concerned about scent since turkeys do not have a good nose. Then they stopped. At that moment two bucks (judging by their size, they had no racks) entered the scene. Oddly they were not as skittish as the does. They took the same path and had the same reaction. Only this time the bucks hit our trail scent and high-tailed away with does in pursuit. What a show but it was far from over. Not a minute or two later a jake turkey came into view on my left.

He was walking and pecking at about fifty yards making his way to the decoys. I slowly fine tuned my position to point directly between the two dekes. He was being sucked in and I was ready. If I passed on the shot huntinbuddy would later ask why I didn’t take the shot. If I shot and missed I would be open to days of ridicule. As these thoughts oscillated in my brain I beaded the jake and gently pulled the trigger. Bird down!

As instructed I stood, immediately left the blind, entered the field and reloaded approaching the flapping downed bird noticing two other jakes I had not seen taking flight. A mercy shot wasn’t necessary. The late, great jake flopped in the dirt with pellet holes perforating the neck and skull.

The loud and powerful 3 ½” magnum turkey load suddenly silenced nature’s chorus so I let out my own “first turkey” primal scream through a sh!t eating grin. Huntinbuddy was on his way. My watch said 6:55 am. His position did not allow him to witness the action but heard the shot.

After some chest bumping and high fives I looked at him and said, “now what do we do?”. He said, “get the hell out of my field and go home now, these bids are hot. "Go back to the house and wait for my call about 10 am, I will stay and try for a big tom” It was only 7 am and I would not wipe that grin off my face for hours.


He watched two toms in the field after my departure but failed at getting them within range. After years of turkey hunting he now passes on jakes and has the luxury of waiting out the big toms. In his words, “I believe they should all get laid at least once.” We left for the farmhouse to breast out my jake. He weighed thirteen pounds while the bigger toms can go up to thirty. I cut out the breasts, chopped off the tail and saved a wing which I will send to Johnny J for his fly tying jones.

Compared to all my woodland hunting trips this one was the most spiritual, the most enlightening and the most satisfyingly successful because it was my first time hunting wild turkey. What a unique and memorable experience it was.


Illinois has some beautiful country south of Springfield if one knows where to look. I will be back next April to wait out my first big tom. It will definitely be well worth the wait.
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It's a Boy!

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Last Saturday while I was in San Fran we had our first calf. Meet Arthur from Madison.

One of the reasons we settled upon the Scottish Highland breed was that they calve easily. We couldn't find the afterbirth and assumed that Annabelle ate it and we are probably correct. It is a natural instinct for many animals to do this to cover up the scent for any predators and for nutrition after giving birth. Since this was our first we had a vet stop by anyway just to check things out and everyone is fine.

So now we have five. In 2011 Ed and Earl get processed. Emma and Annabelle will continue to be breeding females for us. Arthurs fate is still up in the air. It sort of depends on what he turns out to look like as far as his confirmation and such. We can either raise him for beef, or sell him as a bull to another farm. We can't keep him on our farm as a bull since he is too closely related to our current line - it is recommended to go back at least three generations to not risk the things associated with line breeding like birth defects and things like that. Some people do line breeding to keep a certain color or trait in their cattle lines, but we are strictly against that.

Word has it that he is so cute he will be kept as a pet, blah blah but the reality is that he will eventually be a three quarter of a ton behemoth and those puppy feelings will quickly evaporate at that time.

But he is cute for now, that is for sure.

Monday Morning Blues

This is all I needed…

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...Autocross Racing. Ever hear of it?


It’s been almost two years since I sold the old Jeep Wrangler and bought a new roadster that was designed, engineered and built in the true spirit and tradition of late 50’s and early 60’s European sports cars. It is one style of automobile I never owned and always lusted for.

“Back in the day”’ {as the young moderns like to say) those autos oozed romance, performance, passion and charisma. Think Austin-Healy, MG, Sunbeam and Triumph, just to name just a few. My friends owned them. I rode in and drove them as well. I loved them. Today, I finally own one. But my new two-seat roadster is much more reliable than those old classics ever were.


Think about it. What guy doesn’t lust for owning a sporty car to stare at in the garage and run on the road when you feel the need for speed? Felix Sabates is said to have answered the following question.

Q: How does one make a small fortune in auto racing?

A: Start with a large fortune.

Frugality always wins me over.

I write this because on Friday, Yahoo news published a piece on this. It caught my attention because the image linking to the article was my newest auto purchase. Projecting wealth played no part in my purchase decision, not one bit.

My choice when buying the roadster was between the Pontiac Solstice and the Mazda MX5. I have no regrets.




Yesterday I was in Crown Point, IN leaving a restaurant going to my Mazda in the parking lot when some disheveled older-than-me-looking guy rushed toward me asking if “that” was me, pointing to my little Mazda. He had a long ZZ Topp-style gray beard and hair to match. His floppy bright white brimmed “boonie” hat caused my spidey senses to kick in.

What kind of oddball was this to approach me in such a way?

It turns out he was the president of the local chapter of the SCCA (Sports Car Club of America) who is also the owner of a 1991 first generation Mazda Miata, forerunner to the third generation Mazda MX5. His mission was to convince me to participate in a SCCA sanctioned event called Autocross. He handed me a glossy, folding business card imprinted with the local SCCA meeting information and competition event schedule for 2010.

Autocross events are usually held in large asphalt parking lots and aimed at regular folks to race their everyday sports cars in competition. This was news to me. These SCCA sanctioned events outline a road course on large asphalt lots outlined with orange cones and temporary paint. The object is to race against the clock to see who can mark the fastest time. The reward is a ranking within the club. They race at the local Majestic Star Casino lot. Bragging rights and thrills just may be mine.

There is no head-to-head competition with other vehicles at the same time on this type of course eliminating the need for special safety equipment (besides a full helmet) or illegal street performance enhancement, but having those features do not disqualify a car from entering. It’s all about skill and speed with minimal risk of damaging your vehicle.

He had me at skill.

We conversed for about thirty minutes. He told me that he beat top-performance Corvettes on these courses. His enthusiastic endorsement of the Mazda MX5 confirmed what I already knew. No other factory roadster is offered with such enhanced performance abilities built-in for the price than the same little Mazda I was about to stuff my large frame into.

The carefully engineered balance, the curve hugging ability (I have tried to flip mine on interstate cloverleaves, it’s nearly impossible) and gear ratio of the Mazda MX5 rivaled roadsters costing twice as much, in his words. But I already knew that. He asked if I drove fast with it and my answer was “only in the turns”. That got a huge grin from Mr. Beard. His response was, “have you ever blasted around the cloverleaf at the intersection of I-65 and US 30 a few times? “Man that is a roadster’s dream.”

That brought back memories. My old friend Dave and I blasted down I-65 and the older cloverleaves back in the early 70’s in his brother’s Sunbeam Tiger with it’s 350 cu.in. V-8 Chevy power plant reaching speeds of 150 MPH on that early concrete slab straight-away. What a rush it was.

Mr. Beard dude was loaded with energy and a lot of fun to speak with. I am seriously considering running the local SCCA sanctioned autocross course with my Mazda just for sh!ts and giggles. Their website is here.



If I don’t kill myself in a roll-over look for future updates.
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Road ID

Click any photo for larger.

We used to have "we shill for nobody" on the top of the blog since we typically don't - note the lack of advertising here. It keeps us honest and really, what would we do with the $.38 a day that this blog would generate anyway (maybe not even that much).

On occasion we do break that little rule to talk about a product or item that we like. This is one that I should have bought long ago. The Road ID.

In the summer months my typical bike ride is well over 50 miles and if I am doing a loop, I can really end up in the sticks. On a lot of the rural routes I bike I typically see more tractors than cars.

As is the case for any road cyclist, I have had some close calls. The usual scary ones are when you crest a hill and a car is coming each way. The car to the rear of you can't see you so hasn't made any room on the right for you. It can be a bit harrowing at times. I almost ate it on a bridge once as well. Last week I came about two inches away from being doored outside of the zoo here in Madison.

Now that I am distance running as well, there are times where I am quite a decent distance away from home, although not to the extreme as with biking.

I plan on going to France next year for 10 days to ride some Tour de France routes.

With all of this in mind, it was time for me to get a Road ID. It is simply a bracelet/anklet that you wear while exercising. On it your basic personal information is engraved, so the paramedic or whoever finds your broken and/or shattered body laying on the side of the road or in a ditch can contact your loved ones as they take you to the hospital or morgue.

It arrived in about a week in this pretty fancy package. At first I thought that the fancy packaging was wasted money, but after thinking about it it is OK as I can put the bracelet in it and it won't get lost in among all of my other bike gear.
The Road ID website was very easy to use and you can check it out here. You simply start typing your information as you want it to appear on your bracelet. They had two options - a cloth version for 19.95, or this plastic/rubber one for 29.95. I took the plastic/rubber one because I sweat more than most humans and thought that the cloth one might rot away over time.

It is a one size fits all, and you trim it to your wrist. This is a great idea for hunters too, or anyone else that may need help if a lot of people aren't around.

I will be wearing my Road ID whenever I run or bike from here on out.

White Sox 2010

I am a great contrarian investor. In other words, you should do the opposite of what I do. When I get a lot of White Sox tickets (like in 2007), they usually tank. When I don't get any, they make the playoffs.



Hopefully my luck is better this year. This is the view from the new Sox seats. They are great! Too bad we couldn't score on the Saturday game I watched and Rios made one of the most bone headed plays I have seen in years when he went from 2nd to 3rd on a routine fly ball that was caught and was out. I have no idea what he was thinking and we couldn't tell if it was the third base coach's fault or not. The Sox lost 2-1 burning a great outing from Garcia.


Here is a view of the skyline from Sox park. It is a great view and you can see the new Trump Tower in the middle.

Happy Tax Day To You Too!

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Attending the local tee party today at the downtown Valpo courthouse square was a rewarding experience. It felt good being among friendly, like-minded citizens who are fed up. I was told this event was planned on April 14 instead of April 15 because the local Young College Republicans had already obtained the permit for tomorrow.

It was small, probably about 500 attended. There was nothing to indicate what the media paints as an angry mob, just ordinary folks who are frightened and fed-up about what is happening to our Constitution.

There were no counter protesters or planted disrupters. No nazi or racist images to be seen anywhere, another myth. There were union teamsters and steelworkers in attendance who wore caps, pins and badges and seemed to ignore the direction of their leadership.

This was my favorite t-shirt.


Here was a gal who shouldered a real AR-15 with tea bags tied to the barrel. Nobody seemed to care. Only in Indiana : )


There were flags.


There were bikers.


There were hot babes and their hot moms as well!


All in all I was so proud to be a part of this and I will go again when one happens nearby. I may even go to Chicago if and when another is planned there.

So get with it. Join up, speak up or shut up.

And God Bless America!
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They're Having A Tee Party

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Yep, and I'm going. It probably won't be big since it is at the courthouse square here in Valpo, maybe a thousand or so. This will be my first and will take my camera to record any random acts of patriotism.

If you have not been to one of these I encourage you to go. Hell, I have never been part of any protest since the late 60's in Chicago and my reason for going back then was not to protest a war but to hear live music and see if I could pick up any hippie chicks who didn't stink and had enough respect for themselves to shave their armpits and legs. It was like finding a diamond in a dumpster.

Now I am going to be part of a resistance movement, little old me, who knew?. Heh. I am very pissed off. You should attend one as well if your stomach is churning daily as mine is. Be a face or a warm body in the crowd for those who underestimate the attendance and power of mainstream middle America. If you need motivation just watch this video (h/t to these guys)

WARNING: IT GETS BUTT UGLY AT THE 3:00 MARK!



Updates will follow.
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Interview With a Muay Thai Promoter

If you are interested in Muay Thai like I am, you need to make My Muay Thai one of your daily reads. They post fights and other things about MT like training tips, interviews and other MT related stuff.

Laura Del Farra is living the MT dream. She is a Canadian who has been living in Thailand for over a year now and is training at gyms there. She has been writing about her time over there - about things like the language barrier, the fight scene and other interesting topics. She is doing a fantastic job and her posts are very interesting - not only if you like MT, but interesting in general. I will go to Thailand to train someday.

Del Farra's latest post is an interview with the most famous of Muay Thai promoters. I find this man's take on the MT scene in Thailand interesting. He says that basically, it is going into the crapper and it doesn't look like too much is going to change. The interview is short, but it doesn't seem like he understands Del Farra's line of questioning when it comes to MMA. Here in the US and Canada, MMA is king right now. Maybe they didn't publish the whole interview, I don't know.

The truth is that MT as a stand alone sport in the US is practically DOA with no hope of revival. On a lot of MMA cards they will throw a fight or two in there that are pure MT rules, but in general it isn't going to happen. A couple of years ago I took Carl to a pure MT fight card that was put on by Duke Roufus in Milwaukee. There hasn't been one around here since. That event was pretty full, but the MMA cards take even larger venues now and bring in more people/fighters/money. I even scan Chicago for MT fights and can't find any.

Not to say that MT is completely dead. Any competent MMA fighter must have MT or he will lose the standup game. For MMA you need to have standup, transitions and ground - all three phases - or you will most likely lose.

And there are local hot spots for MT - our gym, in general, is doing great with the MT classes staying relatively full even in this economic downturn. The West Coast just had a spectacular MT show. Europe has a great MT scene now.

Anyway, the remarks of the promoter are interesting to me, so if you have an interest in MT, click on over and have a read.

Los Angeles Department of Water and Power

The Los Angeles Department of Water and Power (LADWP is the most common acronym) is a publicly-owned utility that serves the city of Los Angeles with water and power. LADWP is in the news right now because of a dispute with the city over a transfer that LADWP usually makes in the amount of 8% or so of its revenues. Since the city of Los Angeles is essentially broke (per the article, their reserve fund that should be in the $220M range will be down to $25M or $30M) this delay in transferring funds is putting the city close to the edge. This article is titled "Los Angeles Faces Threat of Insolvency" from the 4/9/10 WSJ.

Background on LADWP:

LADWP is the largest municipal utility in the country. According to their annual report for the year ended June 30, 2009 which can be found here(most municipal entities end their year in June, not December like publicly traded companies), the power entity (not water) had the following key facts:

- annual revenues of $2.8B / year
- $6.6 billion in utility plant assets (net of depreciation)
- approximately 7200 MW of useful capacity, of which the vast majority is coal, hydro, nuclear power, or natural gas (renewables are 270 MW, or about 4% of the total
- in 2009 they transferred $223M to the City of Los Angeles, or 8% of revenues (of $2.8B)
- their pension plan for employees is 70% funded when unrealized investment losses are taken into account (not great, but better than Illinois)
- LADWP acquired natural gas assets in Wyoming in 2005. After the collapse of the California power market (where LADWP performed relatively better than their investor owned peers) they decided to go and get their OWN gas supply - the article from 2005 is here. I find it interesting that a non-profit electrical utility owns their own natural gas supply, but it probably seemed to be a good idea when the cost of natural gas was spiking up to $14 / unit (it is now down nearer to $4 / unit with innovative new exploration techniques)
- LADWP has been "hedging" against the price of natural gas, to ensure that the utility has adequate funds available if there is a price rise. As of June 2008, the value of these hedges was $213M (favorable), and as of June 2009 the value of these hedges is ($168M) unfavorable. This is likely due LADWP "locking in" at the price of gas somewhere above its current price near $4 / unit... this method will result in continuing (unrealized) losses as long as the price of natural gas stays low, which it appears to be on track to do for some time

LADWP is in dispute with the city because LADWP wanted to raise rates. LADWP said it needed to raise electric rates to pay for the new renewable energy commitment for the city of Los Angeles. The city wants to have 20% of electricity from "renewable" resources (this must include hydro, because their "true" renewable level is much lower, although no one can site new hydro plants anywhere due to environmental rules) which will require a massive increase in investment in generation and transmission assets because 1) renewables have a high cost / MW to install 2) most of the renewable generation sites (geo-thermal, solar) are not where the grid goes to today, so costly enhancements to the transmission grid are needed.

Per the LADWP web site:

Eligible Renewable Resources - LADWP’s RPS includes the following types of renewable resources: small hydroelectric, biomass, biodiesel, digester gas, landfill gas, solar thermal, geothermal, photovoltaics, fuel cells with renewable fuels, ocean wave technologies, wind, municipal solid waste, and other renewables. Under the state legislation, only “small hydro” (30 megawatts or less) is an eligible renewable energy resource. However, to help mitigate the impact of the RPS on ratepayers, the City Council will allow the LADWP RPS to include all existing LADWP Aqueduct hydroelectric power plants.

According to this report (p13) commissioned to study the issue of the cost of moving to a 20% renewable standard:

DWP adherence to the RPS requirement is estimated to result in an incremental cost of service increase of approximately $284 million annually, with an aggregate cost needed to achieve the 20% RPS target requirement projected to exceed $2 billion.

In that same report (p11), they showed that the cost to build capacity of the actual renewable plants in use by LADWP was 82.2 cents / kWh while the cost of the "traditional" fossil fueled plants was 2.9 cents / kWh. Thus the "renewable" portfolio cost 28 TIMES as much as the non-renewable (traditional) portfolio for capacity; while the operating costs for the renewable facilities could be lower than the fossil fueled facilities, it would take a long time to make up this level of difference, especially after adjusting for reliability (which hits the renewable portfolio even harder).

None of this should be taken to say that LADWP is a badly run utility; they came out better than their peers when the energy market in California collapsed and they have a diversified energy portfolio. Their goal is to keep their rates 15% lower than their peers, which is a positive goal. However, the City of Los Angeles and the high bar for renewables is going to cause a massive rush of investment essentially to create a very modest amount of generating capacity, costing the rate payers a big rise in energy rates.

The City of Los Angeles rejected the rate increase, however, meaning that it is on hold for at least 3 months, per this article. This delay caused the utility to with hold their annual payment to the city, hence the article above.

Merger of Mirant and RRI

Mirant and RRI are merging to form one of the largest IPP (independent power producers) in the country. Here is a "fact sheet" about the newly announced merger.

It is interesting to point out the cost / MW for capacity for traditional fossil fuels vs. the cost for the renewable portfolio (including transmission). The market value (stock market, not debt) of the combined company is about $3B, and it has almost 25,000 MW of power.

To put it in perspective - the City of Los Angeles is pushing LADWP to move to 20% of its 7200 MW portfolio in renewables, or about 1440 MW. The cost of this (including transmission), is about $2B per the article above. However, they could have bought an entire fleet of working, reliable plants with 25,000 MW (about 17 times more) for only $3B on the open market. Now these aren't "apples to apples" comparisons but ironically a lot of the assets, over 3200 MW, are in Southern California, per the fact sheet. Thus these assets traded hands for a pittance and WILL BE USED TO POWER CALIFORNIA and yet to build these new renewables they are going to spend $2B to offset a portion of these costs.

Madness. Someday someone is going to look back on this as if we are all insane. We are spending billions to retire a tiny portion of capacity while we purchase more reliable assets already on the transmission grid and serving those same customers for comparatively pennies on the dollar.

Cross posted at Chicago Boyz

Monday Morning Blues

Foul Balls...

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By now you have probably seen the unfortunate “typo” on the jersey of a San Francisco Giants player. It’s all over the internets.

This is the jersey in question.


It’s easy to understand how some textile worker may screw up and transpose a letter on a jersey. Read more here.


Accidents happen, no big whoop.

But wait…there’s more.


Last night while watching the White Sox drop another one, this time to the Twins live at Cominsky Field on television it appeared to me there was another jersey “typo” mishap. Or was it?

Without hesitation Paulie Konerko would be my second favorite player on the White Sox.

Upon close inspection his jersey did not spell “Sox”. Or did it?


You be the judge.
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US Embassy in London

Recently I had the opportunity to visit London and I stopped by the US Embassy. The embassy was built in the 1960 and here is a link to a wikipedia article on the history of the embassy.



In front of the building there is a memorial to General (and later President) Eisenhower who led the D Day invasion.



On the roof of the embassy you can see the distinctive eagle and the US flag. If you read through the wikipedia link they discuss building a new US embassy elsewhere. However, my friends in London said it is very unlikely that they will get this done and if they do the expatriate community will be upset because the embassy is well located right now and the planned location is a bit off the beaten track, from what I'm told. In addition, the money would have to be appropriated by Congress and this seems less likely with our massive budget deficits.



On the back of the statue of Eisenhower is a summary of his speech to the troops prior to D Day.

Order of the Day June 6, 1944

Soldiers, sailors and airmen of the Allied Expeditionary forces! You are about to embark upon the great crusade... the hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you.

Who Is My Favorite White Sox Player?

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It’s no secret on the blog that I am a Chicago White Sox fan. See here or here.

Sox are now 1-1. Cubs are 0-2. Sure it’s way too early to tell but I would bet the Sox will finish with a better overall record.

If someone asked me who my favorite Sox player is I would not hesitate to say A.J. Pierzynski. Why? A.J.’s the smartest, most heads-up player on the field at any given time and handles pitchers as good as any other catcher. His arm may not be the best but he takes advantage of each and every situation to help the team win.

If someone asked me who my favorite Sox player was as a kid that would be easy. Nellie Fox. There was a big wad of ever present chaw in his cheek and he had a lot of hustle. My first glove was a classic Wilson A2000 like this one. Mine had a Nelson Fox signature burned into the small finger.

When the #1 Sox fan in D.C. was asked the same question which player do you think he picked?



Spit!
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OK, So I Did It…Now What?

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You can now find me on Facebook and link up if you wish. Why, I do not know. I’m Gerry Fromvalpo. If you're interested. But don't expect any tweets or twats or whatever those are.

After clicking around for a few hours Facebook doesn’t appear to have much flexibility for visual personalization besides adding personal information in the form of text such as age, sex, political affiliation, religion, etc.. Sure, it allows photo uploads but I can upload my illustrated stories right here or at photobucket or many other photo sharing options out there.

As far as I can tell Facebook is nothing but a way to show the world how many online ‘friends’ one can attract and connect with as if it is some form of popularity contest. Not for me. I will keep the page open for those out there who want another online friend to notch on the old bed post.

Beyond that it serves no useful purpose for me as far as I can tell. I’ll keep trying to figure it out for a few hours but won't waste too much of my free time with it. Maybe I AM too old and curmudgeonly to be connected online more than I already am. I’ll just hunker here in the country bunker. Please pass me another beer while I think about it.

Question: Why is it...every time a new online fad starts up...I am told I need to be a part of it?....Cmon, man....Funk ‘dat.



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Southern Comfort – The End

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Final thoughts on New Orleans food and music. Part five is way down dare.

Well before getting on the plane at Chicago Midway I did a lot of research on Louisiana restaurants. We planned to eat at out-of-the-way spots locals preferred and to to avoid nationally-famous haunts. There is a program on The Food Network called Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. They travel around the country filming the kind of spots we were looking for. I am not a fan of the host who I find annoying and overly conscious about his visual image but this isn’t about him as much as he would probably like it to be.

Performing a search on youtube it was easy to find clips of shows from New Orleans, one for Joey K’s on Magazine St. which was a cafe type place and one for Parasol, a few blocks off of Magazine St. Parasol was a very small corner bar in a residential neighborhood. It was easy to choose between the two and Parasol it would be.



In the clip the patrons raved about the Parasol roast beef po-boy. A po-boy in New Orleans is simply a sub sandwich using local favorites such as shrimp, fried oysters or crawfish on long crusty bread with lettuce, tomato and mayo.

Walking two blocks from our base camp we caught the St. Charles St. trolley that made it’s way through the garden district. It was an interesting ride southbound down the center parkway of St. Charles St. She made conversation with a passenger and told him of our destination. He was a big fan of Parasol and lived nearby. We got off at First St. and walked a few blocks to get there following the kid known as B.C.. I invited the kid in for a beer and he jumped on it.


Parasol was even better than I expected. It has a 15’x30’ bar with adjoining dining area and it felt very comfortable to me, like many places I have been to before. Every square inch of wall space of the Parasol back bar area was occupied by a sticker, beer sign or cheap trinket. The structure was old, and not very sanitary upon inspection. We avoided the dining room which was filthy and chose to eat at the bar where we had a seat in front of the tap handles where service is always better no matter what bar I'm in.

We enjoyed more than a few Abita Ambers on tap, my new favorite lager beer. The locals at the bar were more than friendly and it appeared that we were the only tourists. When she told one fellow sitting next to her at the bar we saw this joint on television he perked up and said he was the guy in the pink bow tie on the video. He was a regular who lived in the neighborhood and worked at a bank in the city. His buddy was an older guy who claimed his home was wiped out by the hurricane. They had lots of stories and gave us local info on places to eat and recommended Snug Harbor as the best place to hear live jazz but we were on our last day so that wasn't going to happen. No, they weren’t gay...NOT that there’s anything wrong with THAT!

We ordered what we came for, the roast beef po-boy and a big batch of fries. The sandwich lived up to it’s reputation. It wasn’t spicy hot at all and had a great beef flavor, texture, and was easier to eat than I thought. We planned onleaving before dark but lost track of time. Our pesonal experience there made it one of the classic neighborhood dives to me.

For breakfast on our final day we avoided Brennan’s, famous for the FQ Sunday brunch and made our way northeast of the FQ to an up-and-coming New Orleans neighborhood she found out about. The place was called Elisabeth’s. They served different things for breakfast like their duck waffle, a red, seasoned gravy with duck meat an vegetables poured on top of cornbread waffles. I stuck to the traditional egg and sausage plate but the sausage was Italian. The potatoes were red and fried in large chunks with peppers and onion, they were perfect. The eggs were fine. The sausage was very dry which told me it was homemade. Sausage making hobbyists like me know that additional fat must be added in order to deliver a juicy sausage.


She ordered the duck waffle and after tasting it I wish I had done the same. The gravy was hot and sweet and had a very unique flavor. Unknown to me, chicken and cornbread waffles are big in the south, the use of duck meat at Elisabeth’s was an unusual twist. I would go to Elisabeth’s again, even if the staff were under thirty, wearing large knit Jamaican style hats and festooned with tattoos and bolts sticking out of their eyebrows. It was run by a crew of counterculture hippie types for sure. There is a large hippie counterculture population in New Orleans as we discovered, more so than the last time I went there.

On our final night we wanted to go upscale for dinner. With so many options in town we debated it until the final night. We settled on a place called Mr. B’s Bistro, a short two blocks from base camp.


The Brennan family seems to own half of the fine dining establishments in the FQ and this is one of them. We chose this spot out of convenience and reputation. We were not disappointed at all. It was too late to make reservations and were told the wait could be up to an hour. Our plan was to give it a try and if we sat for over fifteen minutes we’d move on. We sat for no more than five before being seated, a cancellation they said.

The place reminded me of clubby mid-town Manhattan steak joints like Sparks or Dylan Prime. The décor, lighting and service tipped it in as a first-class joint.


I wrote about Pascal’s Manale being famous for New Orleans BBQ shrimp. I had heard Mr. B’s was better, far better. After sipping down two Bombay Sapphire Gin Gibson cocktails it was time to order my BBQ Shrimp. The bowl was delivered loaded with 6-8” whole gulf shrimp swimming in a rich, red sauce that beat Pascal’s in every way. It was heavily seasoned with a buttery delicious gravy when sopped up in the crispy crust bread. What a mess I made on the linen bib and tablecloth. But I was in heaven. We definitely saved the best for last.

One thing I regret about the trip was not enjoying live jazz music at a club. The reason is that most FQ clubs, along with other nearby venues offered nothing of interest, as far as we could tell during our short stay. Our time was short and my bedtime is ten pee em no mater where I park my soul these days. No problem. New Orleans street talent beats downtown Chicago street plastic pickle bucket pounders by far. These guys played each night at Canal and Bourbon. Their horns blasted great notes heard for blocks.


We enjoyed a short performance each evening. They were the real deal.

To conclude my Southern Comfort series, here are a few tunes that connect with me when it comes to a boozy night in New Orleans.

Walking down Bourbon St any club with live music could be heard since most establishments have their doors wide open. All we heard was bad rock, some blues and heavy metal. If we heard anything like this the cover charge would have been gladly paid and we would have spent time there.



Good old boozy jazz is not to be heard on Bourbon St. anymore as far as we could tell. Al Hurt and Pete Fountain are gone. Sacrificing tradition with revenue generating crap from time-poor young moderns has been substituted for real jazz. Business is business, I guess. Years ago Hurt, Fountain and many other jazz entertainers owned their own clubs in the FQ.

When I think of the New Orleans sound Dr. John Mac Rebennack is a living legend and on my list. While not traditional jazz and more of a fusion style, his music represents Louisiana and New Orleans to me. I would have paid big bucks to see this guy live. My favorite Mac tune is Mama Roux but a video is nowhere to be found so I settles me on Such A Night.



We'll definitely be back in a few years and I can't wait.
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