RICE QUIPS

The Day I Set Vietnam On Fire

2012-05-29T21:40:13Z

I didn't go to Vietnam until late in the war. Oh, that's right, it wasn't a war, it was a conflict. The military didn't have jurisdiction over accompanying civilians because it wasn't a war. I'll say this, it was a hell of a conflict.

I almost went to Vietnam in 1965. I was assigned to III Corps and Fort Hood, Texas. A secret message came down to Fort Hood directing that a corps headquarters be constituted and sent to Vietnam. I had just stepped forward to go Regular Army so I figured I was a lock to go. As it turned out, I was on orders to go to the Language School in Monterey, California. That secret message directed Fort Hood not to take anybody who was on orders for a school. So my JAG friends left without me. The Corps SJA, Colonel Joe Sullivan, was part of the corps headquarters arriving in Vietnam. As Colonel Sullivan got off the plane, he was advised that they had not requested a JAG full colonel. That's the Army we know and love. After wandering around for 60 days without a job, Colonel Sullivan convinced the powers that be that he was a fifth wheel at the headquarters and was shipped back to Fort Hood.

I ended up going to the language school (studying German) and then having a three-year assignment in Germany; and, also, spending a year at Northwestern University before I was shipped to Vietnam. I know it doesn't sound like the Army we know and love to actually have someone study German and then be assigned to Germany. The Army we know and love made up for it by sending me to Northwestern to get a Masters Degree in criminal law and then, never giving me another criminal law assignment.

I finally arrived in Vietnam in July 1970. I spent my birthday at the 90th Replacement Battalion. Their singular goal was to make life so miserable for new arrivals that they would jump at the chance to join their new units. They were very good at their job. They had a detachment that cut wood all night long using ban saws. What seemed strange to me is that the saws were silent during the daytime. By the end of three days, I was delighted to climb on a chopper and join the 1st Cav SJA Office at Phouc Vihn.

I think Phuoc Vihn was about 40 to 50 miles north of Saigon. We called our outer permitter the "Green Line." It was three and a half miles long. Inside the wire was the provincial capitol, a large air field and the Cav headquarters. Sometime prior to my arrival, Viet Cong snuck onto our base and did some damage. We remedied this by leveling everything outside the wire for a quarter of a mile and erecting ball park lights all along the Green Line (pointing out). No more sneak attacks.

The VC had no problem finding us and would fire a rocket or a few mortars or RPGs at us each night. We eventually caught the sneaky group and took out our vengeance. The JAG Office and our quarters (hooches) were not in danger. We were located quite a distance from the air field, headquarters and provincial capitol. In fact, we were located down close to the Green Line, surrounded by defoliated rubber trees. Periodically, during a storm, a rubber tree would fall over. But, they weren't very big and no one was hurt.

About six or seven months into my tour, we were instructed to do a "Spring Cleaning" around our area. Being the Deputy SJA, I was tagged to run the clean up. I had about 12 captains and about 15 enlisted men. But, the area we had covered about five acres. Our office, the courtroom and our hooches were in pretty good shape, but we had a large wooded area that was a complete mess. We had been instructed to clean out undergrowth. In the wooded area, the undergrowth was everywhere.

Then it came to me. We could burn the wooded area and be done in no time. I walked around it to make sure the fire would not spread. Between the roads and fields, we seemed to have natural boundaries to retain the fire. I checked the wind to ensure it would burn in the direction we planned. I was really proud of my idea.

We started three or four fires on one edge and the fire took off. It burned much more rapidly than I thought. The next thing I remember is it appeared the fire was totally out of control. And the noise. The roar of the fire was deafening. I could see branches on fire flying higher and higher, taking on a life of their own. I was scared to death. I saw my military career slipping through my fingers. I had been a prosecutor and a defense counsel in trials. Now, I feared I would be an accused. I would be charged with unmitigated stupidity!

After what seemed like hours, but was probably thirty minutes, things started to settle down. The deafening roar was gone. I began regular breathing again. The self-generated crises had passed. To this day, I have always wondered why no one outside of our JAG office reacted to the fire. We didn't see the fire marshal or an MP or a concerned operations guy. No one.

By the evening, everything had returned to normal, whatever that means in Vietnam. And, I guess I missed my 15 minutes of fame.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Thanks Bubba - You Da Man!

2012-05-01T21:40:32Z

My golf game has improved. It is not my imagination. The numbers don't lie. And, I owe it all to Bubba. That's right, Bubba Watson is my hero.

First of all, there is something about the name Bubba. Only in America. The name conjures up images for all of us. Years back, when I heard there was a golfer on the pro circuit named Bubba, I was amused. I guess that tells you what type of image it conjured up for me. I wondered if when he bent over to address the ball, his butt crack showed. He had to be somehow related to John Daly. After all, like Daly, he does have his own line of clothes ("Bubba Golf" -what else?).

I couldn't wait to see what Bubba looked like. I couldn't wait to see him play. Then, I saw he was swinging from the wrong side. But how can you not pull for a guy named Bubba. It also turned out that he was a nice guy. Bubba "Nice Guy" Watson. And, can he hit the ball! His longest drive on the PGA tour was 416 yards. I can't hit the ball that far after I have hit it twice. Bubba is leading the pro circuit with a driving average over 305 yards. He generates a ball speed of 194 miles per hour. Bubba is faster that a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive. That's right, Bubba is Superman!

And, he didn't just win the Masters; it was the way he won it. Bubba is a magician with his clubs. He probably has a boomerang shot where the ball comes back to him. This saves on retrieving practice balls. Anyway, as many of you know, he executed one of his impossible shots to win the Masters. Deep in the woods on the second playoff hole, from 164 yards away, he put 40 yards of hook on his 52 degree gap wedge shot to put the ball on to the green. The rest was history.

So, how has Bubba helped my game. He hits left handed, I hit right. He drives over 300 yards. I'm happy when I get it out there 175 yards. He's 6' 3", I'm 5' 7". I had been serving as a Army JAG officer for 16 years before Bubba was born. But, when I am going through my pre-shot routine, the last thing I say to myself is, "What would Bubba do with this shot?" That thought is so ridiculous that it causes me to smile and relax. When I smile and relax, the tension disappears. Without the tension the swing is smoother and just better. The ball has a greater chance of going where I intended it to go (and it also goes farther).

Thanks Bubba.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Frank, Frank Who?

2012-04-02T22:07:51Z

Coach Frank Haith of the University of Missouri was selected by the Associated Press as the 2011-12 college basketball Coach of the Year. Even though I thought he deserved it, I was totally surprised. Why? Because he wasn't even selected as the Big 12 Coach of the Year.

I don't know who selected the Big 12 Coach of the Year, but whoever it was, they had a tie between Coach Self from KU and Coach Hoiberg from Iowa State. I suspect Coach Haith ranked fairly high among those schools who were leaving the Big 12 to join other conferences. Would I accuse the Big 12 of considering that fact in making their decision? If I denied it, it would sound as hokey as the selection of Hoiberg and Self. So you can certainly see why I was surprised that some coach who wasn't good enough to be the Big 12 Coach of the Year would be the AP Coach of the Year for the entire nation.

Now, I'm not happy that MIZZOU is leaving the Big 12. After Nebraska left, I thought we had a pretty decent bunch of schools. But, it is all about money and I, quite frankly, am clueless. I have heard that Texas and Oklahoma were getting the lion share of the TV revenue and that is why Nebraska, Colorado and now, Texas A&M and MIZZOU have departed. If someone knows the truth of the matter, I would love to hear from them.

I wasn't real excited when Frank Haith was selected to be the basketball coach. He came from Miami where in seven years he had a record of 43 & 69 in conference play. Miami was being looked at by the NCAA. I think Miami ("The U") is always being looked at for NCAA violations. I think the NCAA has a desk devoted to the University of Miami ("The U Desk"). Anyway, who was this Frank and how would he fit in? Well, with only seven scholarship players and only one starter over 6'6", the team went 30 and 5 and was ranked third in the nation at the end of the regular season.

I think we'll keep Frank.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Bracketoology - Is It an Art or a Science?

2012-03-26T19:12:58Z

March Madness! You bet. What a great time for college basketball. And each year, the TV coverage gets better. This year, every game was on TV. Even in earlier years when the games were only on CBS, they made sure they would switch over and catch the exciting ending of every game. My son, Paul, even schedules his vacation days so he catches every minute of the fantastic first week. So what went wrong for me? I hope you have a few minutes.

First, I generally don't get into a pool. I hate losing. About the only exciting thing for me is filling out the brackets. After that, everything goes down hill. My main frustration is that I am terribly conflicted. It is my general rule that if I don't have a dog in the fight, I pull for the underdog (My dog/dog rule). However, when I filled out my brackets, I usually picked the favorite to win. So there I am cheering against myself. This has nothing to do with the glass being half empty. It's a zero sum game and if I win, I lose.

But this year, a friend of mine was running a sophisticated pool and I did have a dog in the fight. So I went against my better judgement and jumped into the pool. Splash. I even recorded a couple hours of ESPN bracketing. I'll never do that again. I got more out of the commercials. Would it surprise you that Digger Phelps likes Notre Dame's chances? Dick Vitale liked everybody, baby. Geez.

VCU was one of my underdog favorites. I liked their coach and they did well last year. But, in doing my "research," I discovered that a lot of "experts" liked Wichita State to go deep. Wichita State was a five seed and VCU was a 12. I had never seen Wichita State play, but all the buzz got me excited. So I scratched out VCU (who, of course, won) and went with Wichita State to not only beat VCU, but also Indiana. If I picked stock the same way I picked my brackets, I'd be broke. In fact, during the dot.com era, that's how I did pick my stocks and I lost my shirt. Some of the stocks I invested in can now only be found in time capsules.

Of course, my alma mater, MIZZOU, was a two seed and picked to go far in the tournament. I have previously written about what a great team they are and what fun the are to watch (see Fun Ball - MIZZOU B-ball). They lost in the first round to Norfolk State. State could do no wrong and we just couldn't find that spark. That was my personal disaster and dropped a shroud over the entire tournament. I looked at Kansas and said to myself, "We beat them." I looked at Baylor playing in the Elite Eight and said, "We beat them THREE times." It would have been so much fun to see how MIZZOU would have done against a Michigan State or a Louisville. But it was not to be. It is easier to say, "Get over it," than to do it.

My friend, Chet, who is running the bracket pool is so prolific. He sends out a report after every day's play. Charts, lists, diagrams, he does it all. And so almost every day, I am reminded that I didn't know and don't know what I am doing. Enough!

President Obama picked MIZZOU to be in the final four. Maybe that is what jinxed it. Having that guy on your side has got to be trouble. But with all the help he got, I suspect he did better than I did. In fact, I did so poorly in my predictions that a number of high level Republicans have approached me and requested that I predict that Obama will be re-elected.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

The Judge Says - Military Jurisdiction and Child Abuse

2012-03-06T19:24:31Z

February 16, 1981

There comes a time in every soldier's assignment where he can no longer say, "I'm sorry, I don't know. I haven't been here very long." I usually try to use that excuse for the better part of a year. But, as to this assignment, the excuse is long gone.

Shortly after I arrived here, certain concerned parents brought a very serious problem to my attention. The problem was child abuse and the inability on Fort Riley to remove a battered child from the home. It was believed that the state courts had no jurisdiction to act concerning matters on the post. We could remove the family from the post and then let the state wait for another incident, but that was not acceptable. The concerned parents explained to me that they expected my support, or they would have to assume that I beat my children. Their argument was not logical, but extremely persuasive. Seriously, it took some period of time before they could convince me that we even had a chance.

Eventually, we were all convinced we had a fighting chance of changing 30 years of Kansas law. We solicited the help of Steve Opat, Geary County Attorney and his assistant, David Platt (they are the ones who would be carrying the workload burden). Our sessions with them were fruitful. We then jointly posed the question to the Attorney General of Kansas, Robert T. Stephan.

In an opinion dated January 16, 1981, Mr. Stephan gave us exactly what we wanted. He concluded that when the Federal Government ignores an area of law (such as child abuse), then the state district court may "hear and adjudicate proceedings pursuant to the juvenile code, with respect to neglected, wayward or abused children, concerning incidents occurring on the Fort Riley Military Reservation."

This little victory doesn't solve the problem. However, it does give us one more tool to use in combating child abuse.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Obooma and Gas Prices

2012-02-27T19:15:11Z

Obooma says on gas prices, nothing can be done,
It's trouble in the Middle East, it's the position of the sun.
Maybe global warning, but that would be strange,
That's a tough thing to accept, so we'll call it climate change.
Gas prices just keep climbing, the situation seems quite grim,
But the environmentalists and Obooma, treat it like a hymn.

Obooma says on gas prices, nothing can be done,
What was the Keystone pipeline, just politics to be spun?
Obooma blames the Republicans for not giving him time,
Like waiting till after November, so he can hide his crime.
What about the Arctic Refuge, with a zilllion barrels of oil?
Can't our American know-how keep the Refuge free from spoil?

Obooma says on gas prices, he's working really hard,
When votes are at risk, he becomes quite the bard.
With sky-rocketing prices and fewer cars on the road,
It reduces our carbon footprint and helps the endangered toad.
(This will help the toad get across the road).

Obooma said three years into his term, things would be OK,
Well it's time for him to pack it up and move without delay.
He's truly Nero fiddling, while our country goes to hell,
But his voice is quite appealing and he bows exceedingly well.
Parties at the White House give him chances to get down,
But for the good of our nation, we need to get rid of this clown.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Fun Ball - MIZZOU B-Ball

2012-02-15T01:01:19Z

What a fun season. Fun, fun, fun. Watching the Missouri Tigers play basketball is really fun. The word "fun" when used with competitive sports usually sets me off. When I hear a coach say, "I just want my boys to go out and have fun." I say, "Oh yeh?" Fun is a code word for winning.

Think this through. Is it fun to lose? Is it fun to win? Be honest now. Well, there was the one coed volleyball game we lost in junior high. Nah, it sucked. If it is truly a competitive sport, how can anyone have fun while they are losing? I'll just mention in passing that during the three years I was in high school, we never lost a football game. Old East Side High. Fun.

So if MIZZOU is fun to watch, they must be winning. But it is so much more. It is all the things they do in the process of winning. First, in the era where seven footers are bumping into each other on the court, MIZZOU's starting line up is short. They play a four guard offense. The four guards range from 6' 6" to 5' 10". Ricardo Ratliffe is the only decent size player on the floor. He is 6' 8" and is leading the entire nation in field goal percentage. Sure, a lot of his baskets are from around the bucket, but all these seven footers are also scoring under the bucket. As soon as his hands touch the ball, it is in the basket. No bouncing the ball, no faking one way and then the other, just fast as a magic trick. Ratliffe was a two-year JUCO first team All American before he moved to Columbia.

Next, in an era when college basketball teams are permitted to have 13 players on scholorship, MIZZOU has seven. Laurence Bowers would have been number eight, but he tore his ACL before the season started. Well, I guess he is still #8, he just can't play. So in the course of the battle only two subs come off of the bench. Coach Frank Haith, in his first year at MIZZOU, has done a great job of shuffling players so as to keep them fresh.

So they are small and there aren't many of them, and right now, they are 23 and 2 and ranked 3rd in the nation! Talk about fun! On the one hand, they would have made great boy scouts because they are constantly helping others. Exceedingly unselfish. Then, on the other hand, they are a group of artful dodgers pilfering the ball with great skill AND turning in fast break points.

Michael Dixon started last year and has been relegated to "sixth man" this year. He could have bitched and moaned, but he has just accepted the roll and has played a key part in some of MIZZOU's victories. He has Bobby Knight's vote for the NCAA's sixth man. I didn't know there was such a thing. I wonder if there is a 7th man or an 8th man. Did I mention the Dixon and Marcus Denman shoot over 90% from the free throw line? Couple all that with the fact that we have five players who can hit a clutch 3-pointer (they average 8 per game and make close to 4 out of every 10) and you are beginning to see how much fun it can be to watch them.

Flip Pressey, our point guard, is leading the Big 12 in steals and second in assists. They are just an unselfish bunch. Kim English opted for the NBA draft two years ago and wasn't picked up. Last year, he was nothing special, but this year the senior has won games with every aspect of his skills.

What lies ahead? Well, teams lose and I expect MIZZOU will get upset somewhere down the line. That won't be fun. They have to play Kansas in Kansas in a couple of weeks. Then there's the Big 12 Championship and the NCAA finals. Regardless of what happens, it's been fun. MIZ-

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

The Cursed Costa Concordia Captain

2012-02-02T21:48:19Z

There is something almost mystical about sea captains. In the early days, they took their ships to places never seen before. What courage it took to take a ship over the horizon and into the unknown. Well, sea captains may no longer be as mystical. Perhaps it's because the unknown has shrunken so. They are still quite special and usually held in high esteem.

Then there's the Costa Concordia captain, Francesco Schettino. The only thing mystical about Captain Schettino is how he mystically ended up in a life boat while his 4200 passengers were still fighting for their lives on board the ship (some, of course, lost their lives). Should we give him the benefit of the doubt? I think not. He says he was helping others into the life boat when the ship lurched and he fell in. I guess he could have climbed back out. But, as luck would have it, it was the same life boat that his Moldavian girlfriend had climbed into. But most telling was when the port authority ordered him to return to his ship, Schettino mentioned that it was dark and cold out (and he didn't have his blankie).

Italy can't win for losing. They have an image problem. Listed under The World's Shortest Books and right before "The Amish Telephone Book" is "Famous Italian War Heros". Then along comes the activities of the cowardly Captain Schettino.

I guess by now most people know that the captain directed the ship off course so he could do a nautical "fly by" for a friend who lived close by. He planned to blast the horn in a form of a salute. The ship never got to the horn part. But his friend, a retired Costa admiral, will be able to look out toward the island of Giglio, perhaps for the next year, and see a reminder of the abortive salute. "All this for me?"

Follow this, the ship hit the reef at 9:45 PM on January 13 (Friday the 13th). Twenty minutes later (10:05 PM), the captain was contacted by the company and he told them he had a problem. At 10:25 PM, forty minutes after the gash was cut into the ship, the crew was instructing people that there was an electrical problem and they should go to their cabins. It wasn't until 11:00 PM that the captain directed the abandoning of the ship. And he really meant it, because that is exactly what he did.

One of my friends who knew that we liked to cruise inquired whether the Costa debacle would cause us to change our plans. Absolutely not. I can't think of a safer time to cruise. The recent experience will cause every ship captain to be a better Boy Scout, paying close attention to that which is important. They will save their stow away Moldavian women for deeper, calmer waters.

I have been told that Winston Churchill once was overheard saying how he preferred to cruise on Italian ships. He allegedly said, "First the cuisine is unsurpassed. Second, the service is superb. And then, in time of emergency, there's none of this nonsense about women and children first." The quote was probably not Churchill's. But on the Costa Concordia, it wouldn't be the women and children that would cause him delay, it would be the captain and his officers.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricwquips.com

The Judge Says - Judge is a Short-timer

2012-01-21T18:31:21Z

The United States Army is rich in tradition. Among others, the change of command is particularly impressive. All the troops standing on line and then marching in review. By the time you place an entire brigade on line your eyes will be really, really big.

Well, change of command requires a commander and we in the JAG Corps have very few. The last time I checked, The Judge Advocate General, the Commandant of the School and the Chief of the Claims Office were our only commanders. So staff judge advocates, in charge of offices on post had no change of command. This led me to write the following article back in 1982 as I was getting ready to deploy for my next assignment.

Judge is a Short-timer (April 9, 1982)

Guess what? I'm a two-digit midget. Yep, after three great years here at Fort Riley, I'm going to check out in the middle of July.

A couple of people have asked me if the Staff Judge Advocate has a change of command. I'm not a commander, so that means no parade, no band and no little munchies afterwards.

Now when the Adjutant General moved on, he had a change of stewardship (whatever that means). But, of course, he had the 1st AG company to stand tall. Maybe my last official act here will be to submit a suggestion to the Suggestion Awards Program recommending the creation of the 1st JAG Company.

Just because we don't command or know what stewardship means doesn't mean we won't have a ceremony. At my last assignment (in the Puzzle Palace), each chief in our office used a different colored ink. The division chief used green, the deputy used red and the branch chiefs used blue. The actions officers wrote their draft opinions in black. This was necessary when four attorneys were all correcting the same draft legal opinion. You only had to know which ink outranked which.

A poorly drafted opinion would come back to the drafter looking like a Christmas tree. Anyway, when I moved up from branch chief to deputy, the deputy bundled up all of his red government pens in a rubber band and presented them to me. I was moved.

The ceremony we have planned here at Fort Riley will be held in our crowded little law library. The entire office will attend, each bringing their own jelly donut in a small brown paper bag. We have selected 200 Supreme Court cases. The ceremony begins when I stand up and begin to read the first case. I will continue reading case after case until I become exhausted and collapse. At the time the new SJA takes over and it is done. Then everyone can eat their jelly donut

I forgot to mention that I am entitled to receive assistance from members of my office. While I am reading, should I begin to doze off, they can all rattle their paper bags to revive me. Whether they actually will assist me may depend upon how hungry they are.

This column should satisfy even the hard to convince that I have never let the absence of quality nor the lack of a topic stand in the way of meeting a deadline.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Why I Will Never Buy an Audi

2012-01-17T21:29:04Z

No, it's not the commercials. I like watching commercials, but I don't think I would stop drinking Coke because their commercial offended me. The old Snickers' commercial where a "Snickers deprived person" destroyed other people's property offended me, but I never stopped eating Snickers. Now, Snickers has a commercial where Roseanne Barr gets clobbered by a great big swinging log. I kind of like that one.

I don't care for the Audi commercials, but that's not my reason for not buying the car. I do, however, believe the commercials reflect the arrogance of the company. The commercial I'm thinking of depicts the owners of Mercedes, Lexus and BMW as mindless sheep following the pack. While the owners of Audis are superior people who are able to think and decide for themselves. I thought the arrogance of the commercial reflected the arrogance of the company.

Back in the mid-80s, the Audi 5000 received a lot of bad publicity when the owners claimed the cars were subject to suddenly accelerating for no good reason. I'm satisfied that the sudden acceleration wasn't Audi's fault. It was later determined by the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration that the cause of the problem was "pedal misapplication" (the drivers were stepping on the gas pedal and not the brake pedal - and guess what, the harder they pushed, the faster they went). Even though Audi did not feel responsible, they did move the gas pedal and the brake pedal a little farther apart. They were also one of the first companies to put in a brake interlock system, so that the driver could not shift out of park until he had his foot on the brake.

The problem with the sudden acceleration fiasco was that Audi wasn't quick enough to respond. It doesn't matter if you have an engineering masterpiece if no one is buying the car. Duh! Their arrogance kept them from being proactive.

I want to digress for a moment. Don't worry, I will tell you why I will never buy an Audi. But I want to mention something that keeps auto manufacturers from quickly improving safety features. It is product liability law suits. If the manufacturer is being sued over, let's say a stablility/rollover issue, then, if they widen their wheel base, the plaintiff's attorney will point to that change as proof that the earlier model was unsafe. Product liability law suits are like a game where fair play is off the table.

It was late in the year 2000 and I had just been hired by Bridgestone/Firestone to assist them in their major tire problem. The Firestone ATX and Wilderness tires were involved in accidents where the tread had separated from the tire. Since I was representing the company, they asked me to assist them in a small problem they were having with tires on the Audi TT.

The Audi TT was, and probably still is, a neat little sports car. Bridgestone provided the high performance tires for the TT (225/45R-17/91Y). They were quite wide, but the distance from the tread to the rim was only about three inches. This only became a problem when the driver sped through a deep pot hole. This could cause the sidewall to pinch the rim and cause a bubble or blister on the tire. In Europe, where the tires had been around for years, the driver would recognize that he had abused the tire and go out and purchase a new one. In the United States, the driver would return to the dealer and claim the tire was defective.

I think both Audi and Bridgestone knew there was nothing wrong with the tires, but Audi wanted to have a meeting to discuss the problem and, quite frankly, Bridgestone wanted to help their customer. The meeting was set up in Washington at 11:30 AM at the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center. I attended the meeting along with the account sales executive and a senior Bridgestone engineer.

When we arrived in Audi's reception area, we could see that another meeting was going on in the glass enclosed conference room. We got comfortable and waited. Around noon, the meeting was still proceeding and catering carts arrived from some eating establishment probably buried somewhere in the enormous building. I thought, hey, I may get a free lunch out of this. Free lunches are good. The meeting broke up about 12:30 PM. The Audi officials came out and greeted us and then disappeared for a few minutes. Lunch was wheeled into the conference room. Things were really looking up. Then, the Audi officials came back, proceeded into the conference room, closed the door and ate their lunch for the next 45 minutes. We got to watch. I would have settled for a slice of cheese. Hey, are you going to eat that pickle?

We started our meeting about 1:30 PM. The meeting went as expected. Everyone agreed there was nothing wrong with the tires and Bridgestone agreed to assist Audi in replacing damaged tires at no cost to the costumers. Of course, nothing was said about the shabby way we were treated. Because of their superior attitude, it probably never occurred to them that the peasants had to eat too.

It is hard to be politically correct when dealing with such jerks. I will just say that in the United States Army we make sure the troops are fed. And we have been pretty successful. Is that subtle enough? As I have grown older, I have mellowed. I now will agree to ride in the back seat of an Audi, as long as I am being chauffeured by an Audi executive.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Too Late for a New Year's Resolution?

2012-01-07T19:40:43Z

I'm not a big New Year's Resolution guy. This year, I didn't give it any thought at all. A couple down the street threw a New Year's Day reception. I told some neighbors present that I hadn't done anything about New Year's resolutions. A woman said, "It's not too late. You can make New Year's resolutions anytime."

This really got me thinking. I always thought you had to make them before the year started. I realized that I didn't know the rules for New Year's resolutions. I needed to find the rules and study them. Maybe it wasn't too late. In fact, the longer you wait in the year, the better your chances are at being successful.

So I Googled "New Year's Resolution Rules." Of course Google has something on everything. I found one article entitled the Seven Rules of New Year's Resolutions. Rule one and two were exactly the same. "Do not talk about New Year's resolutions." I think the idea was, if you don't talk about it, you won't have a "falsely inflated self image" (whatever that means). Sounds pretty hokey. I doubt if many people spend time bragging about New Year's resolutions. But, again, I'm not a NYR guy. Then, rules number 5 & 6 were "commit your New Year's resolution to a friend" and "have the friend hold you accountable." I am struggling with not talking about it but telling a friend. Wouldn't telling a friend falsely inflate something or other? I was grateful to learn that none of the rules demand penalties. That's because I think breaking New Year's resolutions is right up there with death and taxes.

WinSoft is holding a contest for people to submit (on their software) the most funny or crazy resolution. What's exciting about this is that the contest deadline is on January 16, 2012 at Midnight in Paris, France. This is exceedingly important because it proves that New Year's resolutions don't have to be made before the start of the year.

So I think I still have time. I'm having trouble coming up with a resolution. I would like to discover a full proof remedy for stopping hiccups or building an invisible teleprompter, but I'm not qualified. I thought about saying, "I resolve to be a better person this year." That sounds lofty. But better than what? Better than I was last year? Better than somebody else? That seems vain. There are some people that it would be impossible to be better than, like Superman. Faster that a speeding bullet, more powerful that a locomotive. Not bad for a mild mannered reporter. If I were better than President Obama, the media wouldn't tell you. Fox News might. You know - fair and balanced.

Speaking of politics, I could resolve to get my man elected. If I do everything I can and my man loses, where does that leave my resolution? I think there should be a Federal advisory board to answer such questions. We could call it the New Year's Resolution Resolution Board.

So where does that leave me? I clearly have until January 16th. I could pass or have a stealth resolution. Stealth resolutions are not subject to the Resolution Resolution Board. I think I will make a resolution to publish more blogs this year. It is obvious that I don't put much emphasis on substance. Go Daddy, my web meister, keeps all kind of stats for me. So far I publish .76 blogs per week. That comes to three and a third per month. I should be able to do better. When you write the junk I write about, you don't have to worry about writer's block. I think I will resolve to publish a blog a week. I have a few subjects lined up and think I can rock right along until late January!

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Christmas Commentary - 2011

2011-12-26T18:20:15Z

It's that time again for my Christmas Poem. Please enjoy.

Christmas Commentary - 2011

A year of good news and bad news I publish in haste,
The clock is running, I have no time to waste.
The Rices are well, a year older and wiser,
Carole in her robe and Jack in his visor.

It grieves me to report on the national level,

Everything seems to have gone straight to the Devil.

The wars in the Middle East have lasted too long,

Incompetence of our leaders is like a country song.

Solyndra and Fast and Furious, these things are criminal,

The corruption in Washington is truly seminal.

Fifteen trillion, I say, that’s quite large.

Fifteen trillion, I say, who’s in charge.

I think there’s a solution, but we have to be stout,

Do what’s best for our country and throw the bums out.

Christmas came early in 2011,

It happened in St. Louis, it seemed like Heaven.

Tony was so jolly, all dressed in red,

Yaddie, Albert and Carp all pulling the sled.

The miracle in St. Louis, it was hard to believe,

They pulled the win out of their sleeve.

To the top of the fence, then over the wall,

Freeze dashed away, dashed away, dashed away all.

Mary and Blanche are 96 and 94,

Their bodies aren’t that willing, but their spirits still soar.

Mary lives with daughter Karen, who supports every night,

Blanche has son Will close, who keeps everything right.

We overdosed on travel, but February was great,

Disney World, Ledbetter Golf and Missy at a pleasant rate.

But June thru August took its toll, our suitcases were never stored,

Myrtle Beach golf to RAJA in C’Ville, there was no time to get bored.

Then the family reunion in Branson, Missouri,

turned out to be a cool fit,

We ate and played, we laughed and shared,

and Silver Dollar City was a great hit.

So we made it to August, but no time to snooze,

We joined the Holdaways on an Alaskan cruise.

This was the best, mucho glaciers and whales,

Each time more exciting as we retell the tales.

A 55^th high school reunion finished the trek,

Three months of exhaustion, but what the heck.

We saw great friends and family, it was like a spell,

Too bad Jack’s golf game simply went to Hell.

Most grandchildren entered the college years,

We remember the fears, or was it the beers?

It’s Central Florida for Tyler and Kristin and Josh at Virginia Tech,

Brandon’s at Northern Arizona, the teachers must be a wreck.

Grant is working a computer gig, that’s tedious but provides a need,

Jack’s our only middle school child and he’s growing like a weed.

Thanksgiving in Roanoke with Paul and Sandy,

The feast was fantastic, the warm feelings just dandy.

Another Crystal Cruise before the end of the year,

The Mexican Riviera, I know that sounds queer.

But we’ll be home for Christmas, the tree’s already up,

We’ll be toasting our dear friends with an overflowing cup.

So to all our loved ones at this special time of year,

Have a blessed Merry Christmas and Happy New Year cheer.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Jack and Carole

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Redskins - One More Stinking Loss

2011-12-09T01:22:28Z

Monday's headline in the Washington Post sport's section read "For Redskins, Tough Losses." The article on the game's loss mentioned we gave up three touchdowns in the 4th quarter. The problem with the Redskins' game plan in the 4th quarter was that they weren't trying to win, they were trying not to lose.

At the end of three quarters the score was 13 - 13. With about 10 minutes and 30 seconds left, we pinned the Jets back on their 11-yard line. The defense held and after three plays, the Jets were punting from their own 20. Banks ran the punt back for the Redskins and guess what? We had the ball on the Jet's 31 yard line! Just 31 yards from a touchdown. But rather than try to score, we went into a shell. I said to my wife, "We aren't trying to score, we are just positioning ourselves for a field goal." We ran the ball three times, gaining very little and then kicked a 46- yard field goal. That gave us a three point lead.

I am satisfied that not going for a touchdown on that series destroyed our chances of winning. The Jets came right down the field and five plays later, we were behind. Then, our uphill battle went to hell in a hand basket.

My problem is who is in charge? Who decided that three points would do, when everybody watching knew we needed a touchdown. When you go for it, is there a chance that a pass will get intercepted? You bet. There is also a chance for a touchdown. In the words of the state lottery, you need to play to win!

I am a board certified, level 7, armchair quarterback and kibitzer. From my years of observing, I have determined that if you pass on running downs and run on passing downs, you will have more success than doing the obvious. Against Seattle, we did pass on running downs and we were quite successful, but I didn't see much of that against the Jets.

I think that the owner, Dan Snyder, is a big part of the problem. He has done some really stupid things like firing Marty Schottenheimer after one 8 and 8 season in which Marty won his last five games. And who did Snyder hire? He hired the "ball coach," Steve Spurrier (12-20), who is probably a decent college coach (probably also a good high school coach), but he turned out to be a rotten pro coach. Another disaster falling on the shoulders of Snyder is the hiring of Jim Zorn. Jim was a nice guy, but had no business being a head coach (12-20). After six games in his second season, Snyder stripped Zorn of his play calling duties. Snyder could have fired him rather than humiliating him. But that might have cost Snyder more money. If he could get Zorn to quit, he could save some money. Never mind what this stunt was doing to the football team. As long as Snyder is making money, I don't think we can get rid of him.

I am not a big Shanahan fan. He was 6 and 10 his first season and probably won't be any better this year. But firing the coach every two years doesn't seem to be the answer. Who knows, things can't get much worse. Give him a couple more years to put a team together.

Of course the headline regarding "tough losses," also referred to our two players (Trent Williams, starting left tackle and Fred Davis, starting tight end) who have been suspended for the rest of the season for smoking pot. They were tested three times over an extended period and failed the test each time. They both knew if they failed the third time they would be suspended, but they did their thing anyway. I love Thomas Boswell's line about it in the Post where he said, "Sometimes a drug test is really an IQ test."

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

A Typical Morning

2011-11-30T23:14:56Z

I remember when I was efficient. From the time the alarm clock went off, everything was planned and executed on time. I was a stream-lined efficiency machine. Now in retirement, there are less alarm clock settings. Setting the alarm at 8:30 hardly counts.

This morning was kind of typical, except Carole left early to go to the dentist for a teeth cleaning. That left me with no adult supervision. I let our sheltie, Nikki out in our fenced-in back yard, then ate and looked at the paper. The Washington Capitols changed coaches, but not the inability to make crisp passes, losing to the St. Louis Blues.

Then, I decided to do a little doggie pickup in the back yard. The back yard had had three to six inches of leaves everywhere until Monday. Now it was free of leaves and I would be able to ferret out what shouldn't be there. I put on a light jacket, even though it was cold, because this was going to be a quick trip. I had moderate success. I know what moderate means, even if Herman Cain doesn't know what "reassess" means. While I was wandering around favorite back-yard routes, I heard a really loud bird. I didn't recognize the call, so I stood still and tried to find it. It was a red-bellied woodpecker that feeds often in our yard. Maybe the bird was upset because my sunflower seed feeder was empty. I wandered out to the shed to fill the bird feeders. I thought I could still make this a quick back-yard trip. The shed was locked. I always leave the shed unlocked, but because we traveled over Thanksgiving, I had locked it.

I went into the house, grabbed the keys and headed out. There was one feeder I could reach without the ladder. The shed was now crowded with hose containers. In the winter I put them in the shed because the chipmunks like to hide in them and Nikki goes crazy. Nikki actually knocks the hose containers over, but with no luck. I filled the bird feeder and then tried to get to the ladder. While trying to step over a hose container, I knocked over the bird feeder. I hadn't secured the top and the bird seed went everywhere. Fortunately or unfortunately, this has happened before, so I was prepared. I had a dust pan and brush right there. My hands were now getting cold. I should have changed jackets when I got the keys.

Ten minutes later, I'm in the house. The feeders are filled, I'm sniffling and trying to remember what I was supposed to do today. I'm sure it wasn't writing this.

While I have been fumbling around, the red-bellied woodpecker has checked out. Damn fickle bird.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Senior Moments

2011-11-18T23:39:32Z

Yesterday caused me to pause and reflect. When you get to be "senior," everything that goes wrong is attributed to your seniorness. Well, I did something pretty dumb yesterday and it got me thinking. It's too easy and unfair to blame everything that goes wrong on being "senior."

This day had been a long one, but enjoyable. I had had a good round of golf, which has been happening less frequently. We turned the TV off at 11 o'clock and were starting the migration upstairs. As I walked into the kitchen, four little blue lights belonging to the dishwasher were glowing at me. We had forgotten to empty the dishwasher.

Carole came into the kitchen and started wiping off the water that gathers on the upside down glasses and cups. Then she started emptying the dishwasher, placing things on the counter. I would grab the dishes and glasses off of the counter and tuck them into their assigned places in the cabinets. Everything has its place.

I started with the glasses and cups. Sitting on the counter next to the clean glasses was Carole's ice water glass which was over half full. I grabbed it by its handle and turned it over to fit it into its spot. All hell broke loose. Water and ice hit the counter, the floor and me. I suspect I was holding the glass kind of high when I turned it over. The water went everywhere. Some of our corner cabinets come all the way down to the counter. I am told they are called garages. Well, I parked water and ice all over the inside of the garage. I'm glad she wasn't drinking a Dr. Pepper.

Fifteen minutes later everything was back to normal. While such situations require a grave apologetic mood, I couldn't help but be amused at such a stupid stunt. I really wanted to laugh, but, of course, you can't when you are seeking forgiveness.

Later, I started thinking how easy it is to blame such screw ups on being "senior." "He's an old fuddy-duddy." Well, I want you to know that I've been pulling stunts like this for years. It is unfair to blame mishaps on seniorities.

In my early twenties, I went to work without a belt on. I guess that's no big deal if you work for IBM or the telephone company, but I was in the Army. And with no belt, I was out of uniform. God bless the sergeant major who took me aside and told me so I could remedy the problem. The rest of the office was having a good time at my expense.

In law school, at an even earlier age, we lived about two miles south of the school. I would drop Carole off downtown where she worked and then pick her up at the end of the day. This particular day was in the dead of winter and the temperature was in the teens. When I came out of class the wind was blowing 20 to 30 miles per hour from the north. But I had a big parka with a fur hood. I just pointed myself south and let the wind pound on my back and blow me home. When it was time to pick up Carole, I grabbed my keys and started out to the car. No car. I had driven that day to school and the car was in the parking lot next to Tate Hall. The wind had not died down, nor changed direction as I started my two mile trek into the icy blast.

So I think it is unfair to blame screw ups on being "senior." I had a real good point to close with, but it escapes me right now. I will say that men of all ages, on occasion, forget to zip their fly. So I put no special meaning in the fact that while playing golf with my buddies the other day, it took me 12 holes to realize that my fly was unzipped. I am sure I would have recognized it sooner had it been colder or more windy.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Cardinals, Cardinals, Forever Cardinals

2011-11-06T16:00:32Z

There isn't much that most people agree on. But, most people agree that St. Louis is a great baseball town. The people of St Louis love the Cardinals. They also are great, knowledgeable fans. They respect the players and don't boo a botched play. They also applaud for an opposing player who makes a great play. That is the atmosphere I grew up in.

When I was a little kid, I used to go to bed each night listening to Harry Carey and Gabby Street broadcasting the Cardinal games. As soon as the team would get close to 500 ball, Harry would start figuring what we had to do to get into first place. Back then, there was no National League playoff. You either won the pennant or you went home. The Cardinals won their share in the Forties, not in the Fifties.

My dad had been a professional baseball player and in the early 50's was scouting for the Cardinals. In 1952, we were invited over to Sportsman's Park to see a new pitching phenom. The young pitcher was Stu Miller and the Cards were playing the Brooklyn Dodgers. We were sitting right behind home plate. Miller had a slow curve that swept from inside the plate to way outside. I still remember Miller striking out Roy Campanella. After the last strike, Campy leaned on one leg and the bat and stared out at Miller. It appeared he was thinking, "Where in the world did that pitch come from?"

In 1954, I was there the day that Stan the Man hit five home runs in a double header against the New York Giants. I guess I have made it quite clear that I grew up with the Cardinals as a main part of my childhood.

Through the years, we Redbird fans have had our ups and downs. After beating the Milwaukee Brewers (then in the American League) in 1982 to win the World Series for the 9th time, we took on Kansas City in 1985 for number 10. We were ahead 3 games to 2 and 1-0 in the 9th inning of game six. The first ball hit in the bottom of the ninth was to the Cardinal first baseman Jack Clark who tossed it to pitcher Todd Worrell. The runner was clearly out, but umpire Don Denkinger called the runner safe. Denkinger later admitted that he had blown the call. Things went down hill after that and we ended up losing 2-1. Game seven was a Cardinal debacle. KC was the world champs.

In 2006, the Cardinals finished the season the same way Boston and Atlanta did this year. With two weeks to play, the Cards had an 8 1/2 game lead over the Houston Astros. The Cards lost seven games in a row, including four to the Astros. Well, the Cards lost the last game of the season, but so did the Astros, causing the Cards to limp into the playoffs. I figured they would lose in the the first round of the playoffs, but at least they weren't humiliated by missing the playoffs completely.

It turned out we raced through San Diego and squeaked out a seven-game win over the New York Mets. Yadier Molina hit a home run in the top of the ninth to give the Cards a 2-1 lead. In the bottom of the ninth, rookie closer, Adam Wainwright, ended up with the bases loaded, two outs and Carlos Beltran at the plate. Beltran had destroyed the Cardinals for years as an Astro. But with two strikes on Beltran, Wainwright buckled Beltran's knees with a curve ball that caught the center of the plate.

After the playoff with the Mets, the World Series with Detroit was anti-climatic. We weren't supposed to beat San Diego or the Mets. We were a prohibitive underdog against the Tigers, but we beat them in five games. I guess that's why they play the game. We seem to make Las Vegas look bad.

But nothing, I mean nothing, in my life long love affair with the Cardinals prepared me for this years World Series against the Texas Rangers. We weren't supposed to be there. Duh. We weren't supposed to even make the playoffs. I guess you and I must have heard the next line regurgitated by announcers and commentators hundreds of times - "12 1/2 games out of the Wild Card on August 25th." You need help to make up that kind of distance and we got it. We made the playoff on the last day of the season. Of course we were the underdog against the Phillies and the Brewers. Does that sound familiar? We beat them both and guess what? Texas was the prohibitive favorite to win the World Series. Somewhere along the way, it would seem that at least some of these odds makers would scratch their head and wonder what is going on.

At the end of five games, Texas was ahead three games to two. Let me just mention that in most major sports, there is a clock. Working the clock is just another weapon the team that is ahead may use. My wife, Carole, would go crazy when North Carolina would go into their four corner offense. But baseball has no clock. You must get the last out to win the game

In the 9th inning, with two outs, the Cardinals were down by two runs with men on first and second. David Freeze was down to his last strike. I had my finger (really thumb) on the off button of the TV. And, somehow Freeze cracked one off the right field fence scoring two runs to tie the game. Thumb removed from TV button. There was life, there was hope. Then in the top of the 10th, Texas Ranger Josh Hamilton blasted a two-run homer. The air went out of Busch Stadium.

So here we go again. The first two cardinals, Daniel Descalso and John Jay got base hits. Pitcher Kyle Lohse pinch hit and hit a sacrifice bunt to move the runners into scoring position. Then Ryan Theriot grounded out to third scoring Descalso. Texas intentionally walked Albert Pujols. No one and I mean no one should question that decision. So with two outs, again, and two strike, again, and my thumb on the TV off button, again, Lance Bergman laces a single to centerfield scoring the tying run. This was better than Friday Night Lights - and it was for real!

In the 11th inning, after Texas failed to score, David Freeze hit a monster home run to the deepest part of center field. I was acting like a seven-year old. We had lived to play game seven.

Game seven was tense, but the Cardinals edge farther and farther ahead, winning the game 6-2. Chris Carpenter pitched six great innings giving up two early runs. Timely hitting by Freeze, Allen Craig and Molina was all that was needed.

Some will say that if it hadn't rained postponing game six, then Carpenter couldn't have pitched game seven and the Rangers would be World Champs. Anybody that talks like that doesn't believe in destiny. I remind you of August 25th and 12 1/2 games behind. Let's face it, the Force was with us.

There may have been teams that were better on paper than the Cardinals. But no team was better prepared than Tony LaRussa's team. And no team had the heart, guts and nevergiveupidness. Go Redbirds!

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Home Plate Collisions - Oh, Excuse Me

2011-10-19T01:36:32Z

OK, I admit it, I'm prejudice. It has a lot to do with how you are raised. It has a lot to do with what your parents thought. So because of my Dad, I didn't have much of a chance. My Dad was a catcher. My older brother was a catcher and, of course, I was a catcher. I still believe that being a catcher is one of the most important positions on the field.

So, I look at these collisions at home plate and I scratch my head. Other sports like football and hockey are making heroic efforts to protect their players against concussions. A player in a helpless position is entitled to protection. You can't use a wide receiver who had just missed a pass as a tackling dummy. If a player takes a cheap shot, it's 15 yards, an automatic first down and perhaps, an ejection from the game. Ejections seem to get a team's attention. But, exploding into a catcher, that seems to be "good old fashion hard ball."

Now I'm a reasonably smart guy and before I started this article, I decided to research the rules of baseball. I wanted to find out what it said on collisions at home plate. I studied all the rules, particulary concentrating on "interference" and "obstruction." I couldn't find anything that specifically addressed the crash. I found out what the rule was if the catcher pushes the batter out of the way on a squeeze play or if he grabs the bat, but nothing on the runner throwing an elbow into the catcher's chin.

My Dad taught me how to catch and how to tag a runner out at home plate (Dad played professional baseball for a number of years). The tag out procedure works great if you have time. You catch the ball, transfer it to your right fist and if the runner trys to run you down, you step out of the way and tag him with the mitt and the fisted ball. Balls pop out of mitts, but not out of fists. Always be to the front of the plate (the ball will get to you faster).

It is obstruction if the catcher blocks the plate without the ball and is not "in the act of fielding the ball." "In the act of fielding the ball" is not defined. I guess if the ball is on the way and the catcher is reaching out for it, he is in the act. In the 1970 All Star game, catcher Ray Fosse was standing next to home plate and Pete Rose ran him over and dislocated his shoulder. Fosse did not have the ball and didn't seem to me to be "in the act of fielding the ball." He also seemed defenseless. Rose clearly could have gotten into home plate without clobbering Fosse. If Fosse had hit Rose it would have been obstruction and Rose would have been awarded home plate. But, this is a swinging door that only swings in one direction.

If the catcher has the ball and has placed himself in such a position that there is no place for the runner to go, I can understand the collision. Sliding into a shin guard won't get you there. An impact intended to jar the ball loose seems appropriate. But not a forearm to the side of the head.

Assuming there is one young future catcher out there reading this, please stay on your feet when you make the tag. You can maneuver much better from your feet and if you have to dive to make the tag, you can cover more distance from your feet. Plus, your chance of getting you leg broken is much less. I've looked at Giant catcher, Buster Posey, on his knees just before the collision that broke his lower left leg. If he hadn't been on his knees, he would have been OK. I think the runner, Scott Cousins, could have slid around Posey, but under the present rules, there's no requirement. I love to say "good old fashion hard ball."

Did I have collisions at the plate? Of course. I weighed 150 pounds and never got hurt. Good old fashion hard ball doesn't require you to be stupid. My favorite play is the decoy. You stand at home plate looking like there is no play at all. Hand and glove are by your sides and you look annoyed. Then, just as the ball arrives you spring into action. You snatch the ball and pop the tag on the unsuspecting runner, who never even thought of sliding.

So what do I propose? My suggestion is very limited. First, I live in fear that someone out there who knows the rules is going to shoot me down by telling me what I am proposing is already covered. If that happens, at least we will all be enlightened. I suggest that something be added to the rules to protect the catcher's head. No shoulders or forearms to the head. That would, at least, be a start.

Requiring the catcher to show part of the plate to the runner and for the runner to go for that part of the plate would be great, but I suspect too much to ask. After all, we are talking about good old fashion hard ball.

Written be PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Consumer Advisory Report

2011-09-22T21:18:55Z

You probably don't realize it, but I have self appointed myself as your consumer advisor. I will look at products that have fortunately fallen into my hands and will report on them. Everybody would like to make a contribution to our society and this is mine.

The product I am evaluating today is Gillette Fusion ProSeries Thermal Face Scrub. I never buy that kind of stuff, so you can be sure that it came as a free sample when I bought the razor or some blades or something. I know it's a sample because it is such a tiny tube. It's so tiny that you can't read the directions on the tube. But who needs directions, especially when the name of the stuff is six words long. It's a face scrub and it deals with shaving and thermal means hot.

So I squirted a little on my hands. Part of it was solid and part of it was liquid (not good). I rubbed my hands together and it started getting hot. Strange (I wonder if a boy scout could start a fire with this stuff). Then I rubbed it on my face. Face felt warm. Good sign. I wasn't sure whether it was supposed to take the place of the shaving soap. I tried to shave. Not a good plan. I got out a magnifying glass and the directions said to rinse it off. Then shave as normal.

OK, I rinsed it off. Then I applied my shaving soap. The thermal scrub must have still been there, because as I was applying my shaving soap, something was killing my foam! I applied twice as much shaving soap and had one-tenth of the foam. I found out you can get by with one-tenth of the foam, but it still seemed crazy.

Then I decided that maybe my problem was that I wasn't using a Gillette shaving soap. I was using Medicated Noxema for sensitive skin in a red can. The can said, "THICK RICH LATHER." They had never seen what a thermal face scrub could do to their thick rich lather.

I finally decided that maybe this was some ingenious plan by Gillette to ensure the use of Gillette shaving gel. I am the proud owner of one can of Gillette Fusion Hydra Gel moisturizing shaving cream with Aloe and Cocoa Butter. I don't care for the gel, but the can was only $1.80 at the Commissary and Carole had a $2.00 coupon (We'll never get rich, but what the hell).

So in my ever-vigilant quest for knowledge, I applied the Gillette gel after applying the thermal face scrub. I am here to report that there are no devious chemists at Gillette. Gillette's shaving gel failed to make foam when confronted with the face scrub.

I decided to go on Google and Youtube to see if I was overlooking something by not reading the directions. I seemed to be using the product correctly. I watched a couple of guys on Youtube and they applied the thermal face scrub just like I did. Of course, I didn't see anyone apply shaving cream after the fact. So, I am giving the product a C- because it is a foam killer.

One of the things that frosts me is when a product I am using disappears or changes its appearance so that I can't find it. I use a Head and Shoulders shampoo. I think Head and Shoulders must have 40 different shampoos. Different names, different color containers. Sometime back, my particular shampoo went to purple writing on a white container. That was neat. All I had to do was scan through the H & S section until I found purple. I wonder if they have thought about their customers who are color blind.

The last time I looked, purple had disappeared. So I looked for the magic words. My magic H & S words are "extra volume." I looked at all the bottles for the magic words. No luck. Fortunately, I have one more bottle stashed away, so we are not in crises mode yet. But, I do need that extra volume!

I've used Old Spice stick deodorant forever. It too has gone through a number of iterations. I think I was around when stick deodorant first came on the market. I was a little kid and my eccentric Aunt Marie showed up at our house with a stick deodorant. She had me and my brother unbutton our shirts and she rubbed the stick deodorant on our chests. I thought it stunk. I was eight years old and I decided that Aunt Marie wasn't eccentric, she was crazy. She drove around in a big new Cadillac and her license plate was attached with chicken wire. She also was convinced that fluoride in the drinking water was a Communist plot. I thought it was stick deodorant.

Anyway, the last time I looked for my Old Spice High Endurance deodorant, they had changed the label. But, when I found what I thought was the right one, it said at the top of the container (I'm serious), "High Endurance. SAME STUFF! DIFFERENT LABEL." Now there's a company after my heart.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

The Judge Says - Cutting a Deal

2011-09-11T13:58:31Z

June 12, 1981

In 1969, Uncle Sam sent me to Chicago (Northwestern University) to further my education. Not a great time for an Army major to be on a university campus. I joined up with a bunch of graduate law students to take some courses that would prepare us to defend serious criminal law cases. Our professor was Bill Martin (he was the lead prosecutor in the Richard Speck case). Sure, you remember Speck. He was the one who killed all the Filipino nurses in Chicago. The jury was out for 32 minutes before coming in with a death sentence. Anyway, for two hours credit each semester, we defended indigent (no money) clients from the Cook County jail.

One of the things I learned how to do was "deal a case" - to cop a plea, to squeal for a deal, to "plead to a lesser and walk" (you think the Army has buzz words). What I am trying to say is that I learned how to enter into an agreement with the prosecution so that my client would plead guilty to something (my clients usually were guilty of something) and receive something in return. Sometimes my client would receive a lesser sentence or, perhaps, probation.

The way it worked in the civilian world (or at least in Chicago) was that the court didn't start until 10:00 AM, but the prosecutor would be there before nine. Defense counsels would wait their turn to see him. I would huddle with the prosecutor in a corner and I would tell him about my case and he would tell me what he had. We would look at my client's record and see if we could work out a deal. If my client had previously been clean, I could usually work something out. Then I go back to the cage (oh, I'm very sorry - back to the holding cell) and see what my client thought. If he bought it we were golden because the judge went along with whatever the prosecutor recommended. If he didn't the system wouldn't work.

Boy, I've taken a long time to get there. What I have been getting ready to say for three long paragraphs is we do the same thing in the Army. Only, I think we do it better.

First, why do we do it? If a soldier knows he is guilty and knows the prosecutor has the goods on him, why shouldn't he try to get something for a guilty plea? On the other hand, it costs time and sometimes big bucks to prosecute a case. If the Government can save time and money and still be assured a fair sentence for the crime, then what's the harm?

Here are some of the safeguards the Army has built into the system. First the offer must be submitted in writing by the accused and his counsel (no hashing it out in the corner of the room). Second, it has to be approved by the general court-martial convening authority. That's the commanding general. He will look over the offer and decide if it is fair to the Army. Then, if all agree, the military judge will look the deal over during the trial. But, he won't just rubber stamp it. The judge will satisfy himself that the accused is only pleading guilty to what he really did. The judge will also make sure that the accused fully understands the terms of the agreement. Only then will the judge accept the agreement.

So when you read somewhere that the accused pleaded guilty for no apparent reason, the answer most likely is that he had a deal.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Nikki - The Remarkable Creature

2011-09-05T22:57:55Z

We are dog people. So we have had the yappers and the chewers. Replacing furniture is no fun, especially when you are just starting out and money is tight. Then there was the time when the two leather straps on my briefcase disappeared. They were there when we went out to eat. Ah yes, the adolescent years.

We lost Holly, our lovable Sheltie, at the age of 12. She could identify a dozen of her toys and when I would ask her to go get a particular one, she would race to the hall closet and come back with the requested toy. She had all kinds of energy and when I would raise the weights on the grandfather clock, would come tearing to assist. The weights would end up with nose prints on them. They were brass and I would have to polish out the nose prints. We finally negotiated a deal where she could chew on the end of the chains, but hands (nose) off the weights.

Holly ended up with kidney problems and died in 2005. At that time we were over 65 and unwilling to replace our beloved Holly. With no children or pets at home, we were free to do something spontaneous (not that we ever did). But after about two years we weighed the pros and cons and decided to find another Sheltie. One of the cons was did we have the energy to keep up with a puppy, especially a Sheltie?

We located the woman up in Colesville, Maryland where we had purchased Holly, but she was no longer breeding dogs. She recommended a woman near Clifton, Virginia. The woman had one puppy that was going to be too big to show and she would sell it to us if we didn't mind an oversize Sheltie. It turned out that Holly had also been too big to show, so that was fine with us. We saw Nikki in the pen with her two sisters. She was already a lot bigger than them. A gigantic ball of fluff.

From the time we brought her home, she very seldom barked and never in the house. I'm not sure she had any accidents in the house, but that may be more to our credit than hers. There were certain rooms she was not permitted to enter. One time when I caught her in the living room, I shouted at her. She leaped sideways and then scampered out of the room. Shelties can leap sideways back and forth to control the direction of sheep. We have no sheep. She did it because she was startled, but she never returned to the living room.

One of the remarkable things about Nikki is her understanding of things around her. She is a quiet, friendly dog that is not demanding. When it is time for her meal or evening treat, she will appear and start staring at us. She usually starts 15 minutes early. Daylight savings time will screw her up for a short time. But she seems to understand that she has entered a subdued environment and does nothing to change it.

I like to putt on the family room rug, but I couldn't do it with Holly in the house. As soon as the white ball started rolling, Holly had it in her mouth. Nikki, however, understands that the ball in not one of her toys (it was never given to her with much ceremony). So she gets comfortable and watches me putt. I can putt with in an inch of her nose and she never moves it. I wish I didn't move my nose when I putt.

A few blogs back ("A Summer on the Road"), I mentioned that this summer was going to be an ordeal. We were traveling for 45 days in a three-month period. Well, it was even worse for Nikki. She was boarded five separate times for a total of 52 days. It never phased her. Each time when I picked her up and brought her home, she would come in the house, look around and then look around the fenced-in back yard. With that done, everything was back to normal. No pouting, no destructive gestures, like making my briefcase straps disappear. Just back to her comfortable routine.

Maybe other dogs do this, but this is our first. Nikki sleeps on her back with all four legs in the air. With her hind legs spread apart I would start humming, "Some day my prince with come." Carole would stare daggers at me.

I just reread this blog and I am not sure how convincing a case I have made that Nikki is so remarkable. I guess it is the day to day things like when I'm putting on my socks and she is putting the sock and my foot in her mouth. And doing it so gently that is doesn't cause any discomfort.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Cruising and Ranting

2011-08-21T17:34:03Z

For the last two weeks, we have been on a cruise of Alaska. I have felt like Nero fiddling. Here I am on a plush cruise liner and all I have to worry about is showing up for meals, whale watching tours and my ping pong competition. Yet, from what I'm getting from the TV, it seems like Western culture, as we know it, is sinking into the abyss.

First, we lose a chopper full of Navy Seals. What a disaster. Afghanistan keeps chugging along. Longest war in our Nation's history. I don't see an end. I'm not a "cut and run" guy, but I wish some smart people could figure out how to get us out of there. When I hear politicians talking about the importance of giving the Afghan tribesman a democratic system of government with free elections, I want to barf. Where's McNamara when we need someone to lie to us about the "light at the end of the tunnel." It is costing us billions each year to carry on the fight and when we leave, it will still cost the Afghan government those same billions. Once we pull out, the billions will not be forthcoming.

Also, while we were watching the Hubbard Glacier calve, the stock market was also calving. Crack, rumble, crash. No "oohs and ahs" on the market. The Hubbard Glacier, unlike our economy is growing. Don't tell Henny Penny Al Gore. Standard and Poors downgrades the US Treasury Bond. What a joke. S & P are the guys who gave the triple A rating to all the banks right before we had to bail them out. They are partially responsible for the problems in the first place. Then they downgrade the US government bonds.

Then there's the President. He seems to be a pleasant guy, but he is clearly out of his element. I am satisfied that he is clueless when it comes to running our government. However, he does know how to run a campaign and raise money. He has lots of strategists to help him get reelected and when I hear him talk about jobs, I am satisfied he is only interested in his own. No, that's not fair. I am sure he would like the unemployment numbers to come down, because that would help him save his job.

He seems to be constantly running for reelection. For the first two years of his presidency, he had large majorities in both houses of Congress (a fillerbuster proof Senate) and he couldn't even get a budget passed. He hasn't had a budget passed his entire time. Good grief! He may be the first president who never gets a budget passed. He is still a first term senator that is clueless. When one of his constituents complained to him about high gas prices, he told her to get a more fuel efficient car. We are going to be like a third world country with everyone driving around on a motor scooter.

I am not opposed to universal health care. After all, we are presently paying for the medical care bill of the poor. I believe we are capable of working something out. But the way the Democrats went about the health care bill was unconscionable. Something as significant as universal health care needs to be vetted and debated and bought into by both sides of the isle. I remember the Civil Rights Act during the Johnson Administration. Congress butted heads, but worked together on some equally difficult issues and found solutions. This time, however, we had midnight raiders who pushed through Obamacare, saying things like "you can read it after it is passed." The president who said he would insist on transparency in government and no more pork was just lying to us because it was expedient.

I'm satisfied that the Supreme Court will declare Obamacare unconstitutional and then we can start over. But, will we? I doubt it. Obama missed his chance, but that is consistent with being clueless. I generally try to put some humor in these blogs, but it's hard to do when you are ranting. I am definitely ranting.

Let's move on to Congress. I think most of them are pretty smart. There are a few Weiners, but on the whole they are conscientious people. But members of the House run for reelection every two years and so they are constantly running for reelection. The best way (unfortunately) to get reelected is to attack your opponent. It doesn't even have to be 100% true. It just has to pass the smell test. With everyone attacking everyone, nothing gets done. The word "statesman" has disappeared from the Washington vocabulary.

Obama has been in office for the better part of three years and his answer to everything on the economy is it's Bush's fault. Where is the "change" he kept talking about? I am convinced that Obama plans on putting out an economic recovery plan in September that he knows will be unacceptable to the Republicans. Then, when the Republicans reject it, he will use it as a key point in his reelection campaign. "I had a great plan to get the economy moving, but the Republicans shot it down. They are to blame." How does that help the American people?

I would like to keep ranting, but I have a ping pong match followed by high tea and dinner.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Baseball Stats Gone Wild

2011-08-03T16:16:12Z

Computers are wonderful. You can dump in a bunch of numbers and crunch them until you're dizzy. That is what is happening with baseball. I know the commentators need to fill dead air, but shouldn't there be some kind of regulator on the spigot.

"Bob, this is the 36th time that Wiffowitz has come to the plate with a man on first base and less than two outs. And, he has only advanced the runner seven times." I quickly grabbed my calculator and determined that good old Wiffo has only advanced the runner 22% of the time. What does that mean? Who cares? If Wiffo had bunted everytime, he would have advanced the runner probably over 80% and would be headed for Triple A ball.

I was watching a commercial for a smart phone and they were telling about how you could take all these photos and put them right on Facebook. Thankfully they ended the commercial by saying that just because the smart phone gives you the power to do things doesn't mean its a good idea. Unfortunately the commercial came too late for Anthony Weiner. But the message is not too late for baseball announcers. Fine, you have all these idiotic stats, but is it a good idea to numb us with them? "Jones is batting .317 in his last seven games" (I guarantee that he isn't hitting .317 in his last eight games, or for that matter, the season).

Every player has a batting average. That's nice to know. And it might be helpful to know his average against left handed pitchers and right handed pitchers. I would also like to know if his average goes up or down when runners are in scoring position. But please don't tell me what his batting average is when the count is two balls and one strike. Enough already!

I was listening to a commentator talk about our local team. He mentioned that if the team only walked three or less batters, their earned run average (ERA) was 2.9. But if the team walked four or more (9 is more than 4), then the ERA jumps to over 4.5. I thought about that. By the use of statistics, he had discovered that putting more men on base resulted in more men scoring. Heavy stuff.

They now keep track of a player's home run ratio. It tells us whether a player hits a home run every 15th time at bat (on average) or, perhaps, every 32nd time. I guess if Sluggo hits a home run every 15th time and he hasn't hit a home run in his last 27 times, then the announcer can let us know, "He's due." The truth is that Sluggo is probably in a slump. But home team announcers are reticent to say that. They will probably say, "He's due."

They have recently come up with a new stat. OPS stands for On Base plus Slugging. If you just think of a players on-base percentage (hits, walks, hit by pitch) divided by times at bat, you have half the formula. The slugging percentage is total bases divided by times at bat. You add the two stats together and you get OPS. It must be significant because the all time OPS leader is Babe Ruth. And they named a candy bar after him.

I'm for coming up with one more stat. Let's select the warning track power leader. This would go to the guy who hits the most balls that are caught on the warning track (OK, we need to count the balls that hit on the track and are not caught). To select the player with the best warning track power, we will have to deduct home runs from his total. A player with true warning track power doesn't hit home runs. This is a work in progress. I haven't ironed out all the issues. So far, I only have the abbreviation - WTP.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

The Branson Reunion

2011-07-24T16:01:33Z

Branson, Missouri? Sure, I know Branson. My parents took me there on vacation when I was a kid. It was 1948, 49 & 50. Sure, I know Branson.

The downtown area was one block long. It was just on one side of the street, because there was a miniature golf course on the other side of the street. What was really neat was that there were large speakers on the two end buildings and they broadcasted the St. Louis Cardinal baseball games. So you could be putting on the putt-putt course and listening to Harry Carey and Gabby Street. "Holy Cow, Gabby!"

It's all gone - the putt-putt course and, of course, Harry and Gabby. The Sammy Lane Resort where we stayed has vanished. They used to drain the pool every Monday and then fill it with ice cold spring water. You couldn't get in the pool until Wednesday. I'm sure that today there are health codes that prohibit water that cold.

Well, the woman at the Visitor's Center that said I didn't know Branson was correct. Nothing looked familiar. I had suggested Branson for our family reunion because it was centrally located. Everybody had to drive forever to get there!

Our three children, son-in-law and four grandchildren joined us. Two other grandchildren were tied up with college summer courses. What a different world we now live in. First, we found the place we stayed at on line. You say "Duh," but it was a first for us. It was a big house in a gated community that slept 16. So the 10 of us did well. Next, the house had to have Wi-Fi. Say what? I don't understand, but fortunately the house did have Wi-Fi and the kids and grandkids were busy on their computers and smart phones. Cowboys and indians have been captured by Angry Birds.

We were there over the 4th of July, so my son, Paul and grandson, Jack, ran in Branson's Firecracker 5000. I held the camera. Jack is not quite 12 years old and seemed to finish 1st or 2nd among kids his size. When the results were posed, he finished 8th in his group. It turned out that his group was ages 14 and under. And some of the 14 year olds were bigger than most adults. This was a good life lesson for Jack. What lesson you ask? That life is not always fair. Paul and Jack both had good times for them and Paul finished third in his age group (he didn't have to compete with those 14 year olds). I finished first in the grandpa bragging competition.

Silver Dollar City was right outside our gate. Most of the clan enjoyed the ruckus - many for two days. That is where the Flying Wallendas were performing; at least the ones who are still around. I'll bet they have trouble getting life insurance. "And what do you do for a living Mr. Wallenda?" "Did you say, no net?"

Paul, Terry and I played golf on the Ledgestone Country Club course. I may have been only 12 when I was last in the Ozarks, but it didn't take long to remember that nothing is flat. Well, Legdestone is in the Ozarks. Ergo, the damn course was hilly! We had the option of using golf carts or mountain goats. The goats were cheaper, but they didn't come with GPS. The course was beautiful and exciting and a good time was (eventually) had by all.

Paul and I spent two hours looking for a Super WalMart that was 15 minutes from our house. My MapQuest had sent me in the wrong direction and Paul's TomTom wasn't sending up the right smoke signals. Being two macho male guys, we refused to ask for directions. The only good thing that MapQuest did was provide me with was a phone number. I must not have been the first who couldn't find them. The little gal on the phone gave me great directions. After we found it, we realized it was visible from the main drag. Not our brightest hour.

The reunion served its purpose. It got the family together. When families are spread out over many far reaching states, it's a little bit of a struggle to all of a sudden becoming one again - probably impossible. When the clock struck twelve and the reunion was over, we all eagerly headed home to return to our normal lives. But, as time passes, the fond memories will be there.

Writted by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

A Summer on the Road

2011-06-26T12:00:00Z

I'm too old for this. This is the summer from Hell. Everytime we turn around we are packing or unpacking. The retirement years are supposed to be relaxing. But it seems like all the good times are somewhere we have to travel to.

Early this month we went to Myrtle Beach so I could participate in the Retired Military Golf Classic. This was my first time. It's been going on for many years and limits itself to 800 men and 200 women. That constitutes a gaggle. Four days of golf on a different course each day with three new partners.

Before I started I distinctly marked four balls; one for each day (Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday). On my first shot on my first day, I hit Wednesday's ball into a lake on the 8th hole at Long Bay (Shotgun start). Thursday's ball only lasted for about six more holes. As a matter of principle, I refused to play Friday's ball on Wednesday. I dug out an old, well-used ball and played the rest of the day with it. In fact, I started the next day with the same old ball.

In a scramble, once the team decides which ball they are playing, we pick up the rest of the balls. Consequently, my team mates would pick up my ball. Because of its shabby condition and 18 carefully located black dots, the ball became known as "Black Death." I refused to take a hint. But halfway through the round, Black Death took a bath. One of my partners, Tom, offered to fish it out of the lake, but I told him to forget about it.

Shortly after that, Tom came up to me and handed me a ball marked just like mine. Same brand, same style and markings. It was my ball! Finally I said, "Tom, this is my ball. Where did you find it?" He told me he had fished it out of the lake on the 8th hole at Long Bay yesterday. Wednesday's ball had arisen from its watery grave.

The tournament gave out prizes to the top 50 in each flight, but my total score was quite a bit short of being unremarkable.

We got home from Myrtle Beach, unpacked, picked up our dog, Nikki, and washed our clothes. Then we packed, dropped off Nikki and headed for Charlottesville, Virginia. The Retired Army Judge Advocates were holding their annual reunion in Charlottesville, "The Home of the Army Lawyer." Our JAG School is located on the grounds of the University of Virginia.

What a crowd. We had about 250 people attending. That's 100 more than we have ever had before. And the Rice theory on RAJA is that once we get JAGs to attend the reunion, they will have such a great time, they will return. So if my theory is correct, we should have a big crowd next year in Fort Worth, Texas. Howdy partner.

Every living former Army Judge Advocate General was in attendance. We actually held our business meeting in one of the School's classrooms. Then, after the meeting, they took a picture of all the TJAGs. Tim Naccarato called their names for the picture, just in case, because of their senior age they might have forgotten they were the TJAG. They also took a picture of all the former Commandants of the School. There were 11 of us.

We got home, unpacked, picked up Nikki and now we are packing for a family reunion in Branson, Missouri. Nikki is standing around staring at us. She gets that look every time the suitcases come out. This summer, they never get put away. I am getting tired just writing about this.

After Branson comes a 14 day cruise to Kodiak, Alaska with Ron and Judy Holdaway. We have been trying to get together for about four years. This year it worked out.

Then, my double-nickel (55th) high school class reunion get pushed from September to the end of August. We can do it, but it is going to be tight. We may just leave Nikki in the kennel. But don't tell her. She's just getting over Charlottesville.

In June, July and August, we will be traveling 45 days. That's cruel and unusual. My golf team is putting me on probation. The only good news is I don't have to buy camera film and there's no luau.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Golf - Mind vs. Mindless

2011-06-15T21:58:00Z

I've always loved golf and for the first 50 years of my life, I was clueless and horrible. I was a fairly good athlete in baseball, football, soccer, volleyball, ping pong - you name it. But the things that made me good in those sports didn't seem to help in golf. Being a ball of aggressive energy ready to attack doesn't help the golf swing.

About 10 years ago, I started going to golf schools in Florida, and little by little, I have learned about the golf swing. On many occasions, I can actually make it work. I no longer feel hopelessly frightened standing over the ball. That's important!

I am still grasping to find the "secret" to improve my game. I subscribe to golf magazines. They have articles that promise 20 extra yards on my drive and that I will never three putt again (that can be accomplished by always missing the third putt). I have a closet full of swing devices that are supposed to solve all my problems. The only one I don't have is the club with the hinge in the middle of the shaft. A pro told me not to buy it, because he was afraid I would hurt myself.

I also have a wide range of how-to-play-golf books. I know some of them are really good, but you can't learn to play the violin by reading a book. When Carole and I go to our favorite used book store, I migrate over to the sports/golf section. Two weeks ago, I found a book that I thought might help. It was entitled, "Golf - The Mind Factor." It was written by Darren Clarke and a sport's psychologist, Dr. Karl Morris.

Clarke is from Northern Ireland and the first two chapters seemed devoted to how great it was for the Europeans to beat the Americans in the Ryder Cup. If I had been smart I would have stopped right there. But I was looking for that little gem that would help my game. There was a chapter entitled, "The master key: Correct breathing." The next time I went out, I took a deep breath before each shot. I must not have been doing it right. At the very end of the book, they mentioned that taking a couple deep breaths to get rid of negativity and reduce the emotional charge "is completely ineffective." It's not the breathing in that's important, it's the breathing out. I thought they kind of went together.

This book was written in 2005 before Tiger Woods wrecked any SUVs. They thought Tiger personified confidence. They liked the way he walked down the fairway. The message was if I walked down the fairway like Tiger Woods, then I would play better. I'm not buying it. Of course, I watched the press conference.

They asked me to reflect on my most embarrassing experience on a golf course. The message was to forget the bad experiences and remember the good ones. Most people do exactly the opposite. My most embarrassing was down at Walt Disney World many years back. I took a lesson right before I played. The pro noticed I was dipping my front knee on my back swing. This lead to a reverse pivot and to me falling backwards as I was hitting the ball. To solve the problem, the pro had me start my swing with most of my weight on my back foot. When I got to the golf course, I tried his approach with a fairway wood. I swung over the ball and smacked it with the bottom of the club. The ball went straight up into the air. I had to step smartly out of the way to keep from being hit. After that, I decided to forget about the lesson until I had a chance to practice.

I'm giving the book one star out of five. I'd have given it a star and a half if they hadn't slammed the American Ryder Cup team. The only thing about the book that excites me is that I am pretty sure that I can sell it back to the used book store for half price.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Addendums, Corrections and Modifications

2011-05-23T21:48:11Z

I have written a couple of articles that need to be corrected, modified or just added on to. No, it's not about Tiger Woods not winning a major this year. That is written in stone and won't need modification. And, it won't be about Chad Ochocinco's $10,000 bull riding experience. That was over as soon as it started. Ochocinco, the premier self promoter, stayed on a bull named Deja Blu for 1.5 seconds. It would have been shorter, but he flew in the air for a little while before he hit the ground.

I need to update you on my Infiniti with the dead battery. The one that had my golf clubs imprisoned in the trunk. I talked to my service guy (the one who had previously talked me into using $12 a quart oil - I'm an idiot) and he told me that he thought the back seat folded down. Well, I got out my owner's manual and discovered that that little trick only works with the coupe, not my sedan. So much for that plan.

I had decided to jerry-rig my trunk so that a dead battery and no key would not stop me. I knew that the government (NHTSA) required all new cars to have a trunk release inside the trunk. This will help little Johnny when he locks himself in the trunk. The interest in saving lives outweighed the cost to all of us car buyers and the argument about upgrading the gene pool.

I figured out that I could tie a cord to the trunk release handle (which glows in the dark!) and slide the other end out through the hatch leading to my back seat. Then, if the battery went dead, I could slide into the back seat, pop open the hatch and yank on the cord opening the trunk. I wasn't sure how the cord would look in the back seat, but I was committed to function over appearance.

I popped the trunk to locate the release handle. It was in the center of the lid towards the back of the trunk. I studied the location. If I got in the back seat and stuck my arm through the hole, could I reach the handle? I knew that Plastic Man and even Spider Man could reach it, but I wasn't sure about myself. Only one thing to do and that was try.

I got in the back seat, popped open the hatch and stuck in my left arm. I couldn't feel anything. I have a foot-long back scratcher with a little plastic hand on the end. If my real hand couldn't reach it, I'll bet my little plastic hand could. Then, my hand came to the end of something. It was underneath the back window. I hadn't gotten to the trunk lid yet. So I stretched deeper and there it was, the handle. I popped the trunk. No need for an unsightly cord. No need to swap my sedan for a coupe. There may be another problem out there, but I don't want to think about it.

On another matter, a while back I compared Gillette razors. I compared the new Fusion Proglide Power with the Mach3 Turbo and the existing Fusion Power. I stated that the Proglide was the only one with a light. I was wrong.

I still use all three razors (constantly comparing). The other day while shaving with the Fusion Power, I noticed a light on the handle blinking. I have had that razor for four years and this is the first time I had seen it blinking. How could I have missed it? As I am growing older, are my skills of observation growing stronger?

Pleased with myself, I tried to finish shaving. But, the battery went dead. I put a new triple A battery in the handle of my Fusion Power and guess what, the blinking light disappeared. I am going to give this matter some additional thought (using my enhanced skills of observation) and report back

Writter by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

The Judge Says - Judge Seeks 'Respect'

2011-05-20T20:42:00Z

Below is another article written while I was the Staff Judge Advocate at Fort Riley, Kansas in the early 1980's.

May 2, 1982.

Rodney Dangerfield (I wonder if that is his real name. I would never name a child Rodney) says he don't get no respect. The way he throws a bowling ball, he don't deserve no respect. If he thinks things are bad now, he should try being a JAG Officer.

I went over to the Officers Club last Friday night for Happy Hour. The place was so empty there was an echo. Come back. There is no truth that there are MP's roaming the halls with breathalyzers.

You don't have to get drunk to have a good time and Friday night, after a long week, is a good time to relax. They also have free chow on Friday night. It's a little overpriced, but the heartburn is also free. You have to eat the meatballs with a toothpick, because the sauce had been dissolving the plastic forks.

Again, back to the plight of the poor JAG. I'm standing in the chow line with my last two Tums clutched tightly in my left fist. There are two officers in the front of the line and one of them has a black lunch pail. After they fill up their plates and the pail, they head out of the club. One officer in line said, "I didn't know we were providing carry out." Then a lieutenant behind me in line announces in a loud voice, "they are probably JAGs."

It didn't take the lieutenant long to find out that they weren't, but that I was. I think he also lost his appetite. The whole thing really gets me. It was a cheap shot. So, if we seem a little defensive at times, humor us.

Once in a while we do good work. My legal assistance attorneys are really hotshots when it comes to protecting the consumer rights of our soldiers. They have a zeal that is really exciting.

They found out about a gas station downtown which was charging $10 per bad check, plus $1 per day until the check is redeemed. Now nobody wants the GI bouncing a bad check, but fair is fair and that ain't.

One GI bounced three checks for a total of 28 bucks and he ended up paying $70 in service charges. The Soldier didn't have the money for the service charge so he had to wait till payday, and each day cost him another buck.

We took our best shot at the gas station trying to convince them to change their policy. They seemed concerned and were willing to make some token offer in this one case, but they refused to change their policy.

So my legal assistance office has now brought in the horsepower of the Consumer Protection Division of the Attorney General's Office. And we have every reason to believe that the gas station policy will be struck down because it is unconscionable (that's a fifty-cent word meaning it stinks).

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

My Day Stunk, But It Was Better Than Tiger's

2011-05-13T22:32:00Z

Thursdays are match days. We at Fort Belvoir are members of the Northern Virginia Retired Mens Golf Association. So almost every Thursday starting in late March and running through September, we play a golf match with one of the Northern Virginia country clubs.

I start getting ready on Wednesday. I assemble all my gear (clubs, bag, shoes, etc.) and put it in the trunk of my car. Two years ago, I arrived at the golf club without my clubs. So now, I do it on Wednesday.

This Wednesday was out of sync. We had a crew spring cleaning our yard. I had both cars parked in the street so they could dump mulch in the driveway. The clean up went well, but as they were leaving, I went down the back steps to make sure the gates were closed. I didn't make it. I was pretty close to the bottom when I started falling. This may sound stupid, but I believe there is an art in falling and not getting hurt. I consider myself a master.

On this occasion, I was out of control. But still I was twisting and turning. When I finally bottomed out, I had scraped my head, shoulder, elbow, knee and butt; not necessarily in that order. I lay there for about a minute gathering myself. When I finally got up, I assumed my golfing stance and took a practice swing. I may have been hurting, but if I could swing a club, then all was well. All was well. Another bullet had been dodged. Following orders, I dutifully sprayed Bactine all over my body.

The next morning at 7:30, I marched out of my house for my 9:00 match. My car would not start. The battery was dead as a door nail. I raced back upstairs. Carole was getting a permanent at noon time, but she told me I could take her car. She would hitch a ride with a neighbor. I went back to the garage to move my clubs from my car to hers. Then I realized that with my keyless 2009 Infiniti, if the battery is dead, you can't open the trunk. My clubs, my shoes, my golfing glasses were locked in the trunk. I climbed into the backseat with a flashlight. I knew there was a hole about the center arm rest. I found the hole, but could do nothing with it.

Carole suggested finding my starter cables and jump starting the car. Great idea. After searching for ten minutes, I concluded that my starter cables were in the trunk with my golf clubs.

Carole then reminded me that I had a lot of extra clubs in the basement. Another great idea. I called my team Captain, Peter Huhn, and told him I would miss the 8:00 check in time, but I would be there for the match.

In the basement I found my Ping G-2 driver and my Ping nickel ISI irons. I was happy with those clubs. The grips were a little slick, but who cares. I had three putters and selected two of them. Then, I decided to take only one so as to be decisive. I selected an old reliable Acushnet Bulls-Eye putter. My problem was fairway woods. As I bought new fairway woods, I gave my old ones to my son, Paul. The only clubs I had were 1970 vintage. These were not metal woods, but wood woods with persimmon heads. The 3 and 5 wood heads looked tiny and the shafts were stiff as iron rods. But that was my fate.

I made it to the club with 35 minutes to spare. I saved time by not putting on golf shoes, or changing glasses because I had none. I raced out to the driving range to get accustomed to the clubs. The driver worked. Nothing else was comfortable. Then I went to the putting green and nothing worked. My regular putter is a Scotty Cameron mallet head and has some weight in it. The old Bulls-Eye was exactly the opposite. What a dummy!

I don't think you are up to a hole by hole accounting of my round. I would love to tell you I had a great round, but I didn't. I would have had a decent round if it hadn't have been for the putter. I missed at least six three to five foot putts. Toward the end, on a par 3, I had a straight three-foot putt for a par. I tried hitting it cross handed (I was desperate). I was on line, but left the three-foot putt short.

When the dust settled, Fort Belvoir had beaten the previously undefeated International Country Club 27-9. My partner, Art Brill, thanks to his great play, and I, defeated our opponents 2-1.

When you have a bad round, it is important to have an excuse. I had many. But if it hadn't been for this experience, I might never have learned how to hit a knock-down driver shot.

When I got home, I found out that Tiger Woods shot a 42 on the first nine of the Players Championship and then withdrew citing knee and Achilles injuries. Karma's a bitch.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Baseball's Enigma (The Nats)

2011-05-04T23:29:00Z

Yes, I'm a Washington National fan. Hey, I live here. I grew up in the St. Louis area, so the Cardinals are numero uno, but when the Nats are not playing the Cards, I'm a big time Nats fan.

I thought about entitling this article, "Nats Hit Like Gnats." But gnats can be pesky so I threw out that line. There may be a team in the league that hits worse than the Nats, but I'm too lazy to look it up. OK. OK. I looked it up and the Nats are the second worst. As a Team they are hitting .225 and the lowly San Diego Padres are hitting .217.

I wonder if San Diego has three starters batting below the Mendoza line? In last night's line up, we started Adam La Roche (.181) at first base, Jerry Hairston (.190) in centerfield and Brian Bixler (.100) at third base. Egads. Hairston was playing for Rick Ankiel (.221). Ankiel is a former Cardinal and a great centerfielder. I said that last night each time the Phillies hit the ball over Hairston's head.

In the outfield with Hairston were Jayson Werth (.226) and Mike Morse (.234). Morse strikes out 31% of the time. Sometimes he swings, sometimes he watches the last strike. Well, at 31%, he is well above the Adam Dunn line. Dunn struck out 199 times last season. I wonder if he was going for 200 and the ball got in the way of his bat. Dunn's on a 40% pace this year, so if he stays healthy, he should rocket past 200.

Who have I left out of the starting line up? Danny Espinosa (.219) at second base, Ian Desmond (.235) at shortstop and Pudge Rodriguez (.234) behind the plate. Opposing pitchers must love to see the Nats come to town.

The question I had is do the Nats have a batting coach? And, shouldn't somebody put him on a suicide watch? I looked him up and his name is Rick Eckstein. He never played big league ball, but his brother, David, did. So much for nepotism.

The announcers for the Nats never say anything bad about the team. Last year the color commentator, Ron Dibble, complained about some of the players and their bonehead moves and Dibble was fired. So now, when Morse takes a third strike, the announcer will say, "I think he had something in his eye."

Here is where the egnima comes in. The Nats have won about half of their games! I can't explain it. Timely hitting? Good base running? Great pitching? Smart defensive play? Getting rid of Nyger Morgan? Just lucky? Take your pick. But, somehow they have scratched out a number of wins.

Do the Nats have any good hitters? Yes, Ryan Zimmerman was hitting .357 before he tore an abdominal muscle sliding into a base and requiring surgery. Don't get me started on head-first slides. If God had wanted us to slide head first, he would have put spikes on our caps.

Then there is a super young catcher named Wilson Ramos (.351). He divides up the catching duties with Pudge. I don't blame Manager Jim Riggleman for playing both of them. Pudge is a future Hall of Famer and great for the morale of the team. It is just that Ramos is out hitting Pudge by 120 points and he is a hell of a player.

You want to know the up tick? Almost all our players have higher career batting averages than what they are hitting this year. Things have got to get better. LaRoche (.181) and Werth (.226) both have lifetime batting averages of .270. Maybe, just maybe, we are a warm weather team. I got that gem from our announcers.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com