Not what I was thinking

The entry to trailerville. My beloved sheet metal home can be glimpsed beyond the riding arena.

I thought a ton of thoughts today. Boy was I gonna blog about stuff. Then everything else happened. Very briefly then:

Volebeats are my new super duper fave band. They've only been around for twenty years. It takes a while for things to reach me up here. More about them later.

RIP Philip Jose Farmer. He was a science fiction writer when you had to be nuts to write science fiction. I don't think about them much anymore, but the SF Philips, Jose Farmer and K. Dick, were huge influences on me. Sometime in the future, when we are having sex with giant sentient mollusks, we will have forgotten John Updike and John Cheever, but we will remember Philip K. Dick and Philip Jose Farmer.

And finally: Transportation workers care about you. We are safe and conscientious and occasionally heroic even when our bosses do not give a fuck. I knew a bus driver who managed to get his bus off the road and pull the parking brake while he was having a massive heart attack. The latter act required him to bend over and pull up on a handle with fifty pounds of resistance. He was dead before his bus stopped rolling, but no one else was hurt.

So it turns out that Chesley, "Sully" Sullenberger, the guy who landed his airplane in The Hudson with no loss of life, has had his pay cut by forty percent in the last few years. What's more, there's no pension waiting for him when he retires. His bosses needed that money for themselves. Remember all of those articles that mentioned that he also runs a consulting business? Between his two jobs, he's been working seven days a week for years, just to keep up.

Bastards.