My family used to tell me stories too. When I was a child an old, fat guy would come down our chimney and give me stuff. I really loved him. And whenever I lost a tooth, some flying chick would pay me a quarter for it. But when I stopped losing teeth and realized we didn’t even have a chimney, I learned the difference between truth and fairy tales. Pocahontas finally figures it out:
Do those offset each other?
I rape, pillage, plunder. I especially like killing babies. Born or unborn: they’re all the same. Don’t judge me. Don’t impose your morality on me. But I did something retarded 35 years ago when I was in college: I sincerely apologize. #abortion #BlackfaceDemocrats
I’ve never been a stranger to polarizing conversation whether it be politics, social issues, or religion. Today I rush in, however, where angels fear to tread, the most polarizing issue of all: Pickup Trucks. Recently I bought one: Ford F250, crew cab diesel, four-wheel drive. Silver if you must know. So you Ram and GM enthusiasts can get out your long knives.
I’m nearly sixty years old and I did something I’ve only done two other times: bought a new vehicle. Last time it was 2005. Time before that was 1987. I avoid buying new cars for two reasons: Dealerships are horrible and new vehicles are bad economics. I’ll leave the economics lesson for another day, but I am reminded why I’ve always choked on a dealer experience.
I did way more research than was financially justified. Somehow I thought if I trained enough I would be able to beat a dealership at what they do every day and what I have done now twice. I did learn a whole lot this time – last go-round the internet was not as user friendly as it is now – and I did get (I think) a pretty good deal. The two most useful tidbits that stick out in my mind now are 1) Never negotiate in person, do it over the phone or online; and, 2) Every single dealer – every single one – told me that they were losing money on that particular deal. That would explain their nice big buildings in prime locations.
Every dealer also told me that my best negotiation position would be my personal appearance at their dealership. That is a patently false statement. Your presence at the dealership benefits the dealership, not the customer. That’s why they want you to do it. It’s also why I refused to do it that way. And my persistence on this point saved me about 10% on my purchase. And, of course, the dealership lost money. I know this because they told me so. Yeah, right!
When I was zeroing in on the crew cab diesel the dealer salesman – a likeable and helpful chap – asked me what a lawyer needs with an F250. I told him an attorney buying a diesel truck is a lot like a car salesman buying a Bible. Both the truck and the book are highly under-utilized.
I have long been a fan of the Dodge/Ram Cummins diesel engine. But my fondness stops there. Ram trucks are poorly designed, not nearly as roomy, and are overwhelmingly . . . well . . . chintzy. I opted out of the Chevy for a very good reason: it’s a Chevy.
I shall perhaps be ridiculed for being a blind loyalists. My last pickup truck was a Ford Diesel, vintage 2007. If you know anything about that year, you know that it was in the middle of Ford’s Diesel Dark Ages. And my truck was no exception. In 2003 Ford abandoned the trusty 7.3 and embraced two versions: a 6.0 liter followed by an even worse 6.4. Head gaskets were blowing everywhere. The local dealership named a service bay in my honor. Happy when I bought that 2007. Even happier when I finally pushed it out of my driveway.
But the relatively new 6.7 liter has been around since 2011. Time and a few million collective miles, led me to try again. Vehicles change. Dealerships not so much.
The inside of the truck is cavernous. No one in my family, with the possible exception of a grandchild or two, is little. But there’s head room, leg room, and shoulder room a plenty. The stock truck has a mountain of ground clearance, quite a bit really. Even with my 36 inch inseam, I need the step bar to swing myself into the saddle.
I had test driven the gas version. It made far more economic sense than the nine grand upgrade for the diesel. Although the gasoline engine was adequate, it was both a heavy drinker (about 14 mpg in town; close to 19 on the highway) and seemingly anemic especially on the low end of the speedometer. The diesel, while only a little less thirsty, generates the torque one would expect from a manly-man’s truck. And this bad boy will roll for about 500 miles thanks to the 34 gallon fuel tank, which was a plus on my first road trip. I’m glad I forked over the bucks for the diesel.
I’m not a bells and whistles kind of guy. I don’t like paying for them. I really don’t like paying to fix them. And whatever luster they add fades faster than a Kardashian scandal. So I stayed close to the south side of the range of options, which can easily add twenty to thirty grand if you want heated back seats and a sunroof. But mine had a few trinkets that I have to admit were intriguing.
Visibility around this beast is by definition, limited. Previous editions of trucks that I’ve owned were equipped with backup sensors that beeped with an increasing tempo as your distance from an object decreased. Sadly, those relatively inexpensive, highly helpful little devices have been replaced by cameras. My driveway diva sports a total of five cameras: one under each mirror, two rear-facing, and one in the front grill. One of the cameras has a loose wire or something because the image tends to flicker from that spy-cam. I imagine it will be covered under warranty (it better!) I just haven’t had a chance to get back there yet.
You know those cameras that have famously caught images of Bigfoot, the Lochness Monster, and alien spacecraft. Well those cameras with all their legendary resolution are now being purchased by Ford.
Seriously, you can get high resolution, inexpensive mini-cameras at WalMart. What up with this garbage! The cameras are really only helpful in perfect lighting and in near perfect conditions. Night time? Not too much. Raining? Umm . . . no. Hey, Ford, if I wanted chintz, I would have bought a Dodge. In fairness, the one component of the camera set up that is nice (assuming decent weather and lighting) is the computer generated aerial image that shows this hoss in the parking spot. The truck is huge, parking spots are stingy. Getting to see the bird’s eye view is helps. But the back up sensors are more functional, less expensive, and less problematic. The only thing that rivals the cheapening impression of the cameras is the options “front license plate bracket” for $75. It’s a rectangular ring of plastic with the tensile strength of a picnic grade plastic fork.
My truck is also equipped with Ford Sync, which I think is supposed to be an equivalent to Android Auto or whatever that deal is for iPhone users. To sum it up, Sync is cumbersome, sometimes counter-intuitive, and doesn’t really live up to the hype. It has slightly less utility than I get out of my cheap blue tooth headset.
I’d be happier if they took the cameras and the Sync out and put the money for those things back in my wallet.
There is no ugly. It’s a great looking, great driving vehicle. It’s comfortable to me on the long haul and nimble enough around town. Besides the backup sensors, an option that I might add would be the remote start. That would be nice to get it warmed up on some of these brisker winter mornings.
If you’ve got a later model Ford diesel – or even if you’ve gone to the dark side of GM or Dodge – I’d like to hear what you like or don’t like.
At the heart of the smear campaign against a few young men from a Catholic School in Kentucky is Nathan Phillips. Mr. Phillips has recounted his heroism when he faced down a few teenagers, telling a fawning media how scared he was. It’s all a lie. The media was recklessly indifferent to the fact that it was a lie.
A few Catholic priests as well as some bishops jumped on the Catholic School bashing bandwagon and excoriated the young men. They, too, have been recklessly indifferent to the truth. Hirelings and cowards, that’s all. Pray for the those priests and bishops. Might start with Psalm 109.
But back to Nathan Phillips, The New York Times and CNN appear to be walking their original stories back, but they’ve never mentioned a few points about Phillips. For example:
1. He enlisted in the Marine Corps Reserves in 1972 . . . under the name Nathan Stanard.
2. He was discharged four years later . . . as a Private.
3. He entered the Marines in a real hotbed of conflict . . . in Topeka, KS.
4. His job in the military was . . . . “basic electrician.”
5. He did serve as a rifleman . . . for two days, after which he was transferred . . . to Lincoln, Nebraska.
6. Once in the war zone in Lincoln, his job was listed as a “Refr. Tech.” which, being translated means, he worked on base refrigeration units. I think that’s close to where Maytag’s headquarters used to be.
7. In 1975-76, he was transferred to El Toro, California. He went AWOL a couple of times while there. USMC doesn’t really appreciate it when you do that.
I just thought you might want to know.
Bloomberg ominously warns that “Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez Is the Darling of the Left, Nightmare of the Right.” Lions and tigers and bears. Oh, my! That warning is, of course, predicated on two assumptions: 1) that the “Right” is composed of every member of Congress with an (R) after their name; and, 2) that the lot of them have long since recovered from the emasculation surgery. So Bloomberg is not completely off base.
But for the fact that the United States has a bleak history of community organizers who appear from nowhere on the political scene, she’d should be roundly ignored. She possesses exactly zero qualifications for anything above – being generous – say, a filing clerk. I doubt the republic would survive her ascendance to high office. It certainly couldn’t recover from an electorate that would put her there.
To be fair, when she was a senior in high school, the International Astronomical Union named the asteroid 23238 Ocasio-Cortez after in recognition of her second-place finish in the 2007 Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. Ocasio-Cortez was named the 2017 National Hispanic Institute Person of the Year by Ernesto Nieto. This hyphenated, feminated, fem-gal has been a pain in the asteroid ever since.
She also earned a Bachelor’s degree in Economics and International Business from Boston University in 2011 (I have shoes older than she is) that undoubtedly helped her form her understanding of tax policy which includes confiscatory taxation. Or in her words, “Once you get to the tippy tops, on your 10 millionth dollar, sometimes you see tax rates as high as 60 or 70 percent.” I always get lost when economists use technical terms like “tippy tops“.
But rest assured she doesn’t want the Venezuela brand of socialism; oh, no! She wants to move the U.S. to more of a Swedish model. And who among us doesn’t want a Swedish model?
She is in all of her policy views, anti-conservative. That’s a badge she wears with pride. But she really owes her entire political existence to the man she loathes the most: President Donald Trump. President Trump makes Ocasio-Cortez possible. He tweets. She tweets. He’s polarizing. She’s polarizing. Trump doubles down when challenged. Ocasio-Cortez adopts this vapid, hair-twirling, teenage girl persona. It’s all an act, of course . . . except for the vapid part. Sure, CNN gives her press; but President Trump gave her life.
And I take issue with Bloomberg on their title. Whatever bad you want to say about President Trump, he has flushed the liberal quail out of the brush. Where’s Dick Cheney when you need him!
They are revealing more and more what they’ve always been and what they’ve always stood for. Ocasio-Cortez is a “nightmare” to the Right like Elizabeth Warren strikes terror in Trump’s heart by announcing her run for president. Does the movie line “We’re having fish tonight!” come to anyone else’s mind.
The Libs, on the other hand, ought to be quaking in their collective Louboutins. She is actually helping Trump in pulling back their thin veil of legitimacy. She – like the entitled little brats that follow her on Twitter – doesn’t play be the rules. She doesn’t follow orders. She doesn’t play as a team.
It’s the same reason so many Establishment Republicans hate Donald Trump. He’s the consummate anti-politician.
And Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is the anti-Trump.
No doubt, a tribute to superior parenting.
Hirsh Earns Pair of National Accolades from D3hoops.com & USBWA
ROME, Ga. — The honors continued to roll in for Elijah Hirsh of the Berry College men’s basketball team on Tuesday, as the senior earned his first career D3hoops.com Team of the Week and U.S. Basketball Writers Association (USBWA) Division III National Player of the Week honors.
The recognition follows his second Southern Athletic Association (SAA) Player of the Week award announced yesterday afternoon. Hirsh has been collecting recognition after leading the Vikings to a pair of huge SAA victories this weekend, pushing the Vikings to first place in the SAA standings under first-year head coach, Mitch Cole.
In two games, Hirsh averaged a double-double with 20.0 points per game and 11.0 rebounds. He also shot 52.2 percent from the field, 57.1 percent from three, passed 3.5 assists and earned 4.0 blocks per contest.
Berry entered the weekend tied for second place with several other teams, including Sewanee. In Friday night’s 69-64 overtime win against the Tigers, Hirsh scored 24.0 points on 9-for-15 shooting with 11 rebounds. He also earned four blocks including a huge stop against Sewanee’s Luke Smith (the league’s leading scorer) late in the OT period to secure the win.
Against Centre, Hirsh again posted a double-double with 16 points, 11 rebounds, five assists and four blocks. His performance helped the Vikings to their first regular-season win over the Colonels in program history, claiming first place in the SAA standings.
On the year, Hirsh is top five in the league with 16.4 points, 7.7 rebounds, 1.7 blocks per game and a 55.9 shooting percentage.