All posts by pajarice

Golf – Mind vs. Mindless


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


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’


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


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)


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

Governor William Donald Schaefer (1921-2011)


The State of Maryland lost a real character last week.  Former Governor Schaefer died April 18, 2011.  He was Governor from 1987 to 1995.  Prior to that he had been the Mayor of Baltimore from 1971 to 1986.

As the Mayor of Baltimore he was responsible for turning the Baltimore Inner Harbor into an exciting tourist attraction.  When the National Aquarium of Baltimore opened in 1981, Schaefer showed up in a 1920’s bathing suit.

I only met him once.  We were holding a General Law Spring Conference of the ABA in Annapolis.  Schaefer hosted a small group of us for cocktails in the governor’s mansion.  He spoke to us for a short while.  I don’t remember anything he said, but I came away thinking that he was impressive and humorous.  He stood on the steps leading upstairs and we were gathered in a hallway below.  I remember him introducing a woman to us who was not his wife.  This confused me, but I confused easily.

I suspect Governor Schaefer didn’t know I was there.  Yet, it was only a few years later when he wrote to the Secretary of Transportation, Andy Card about me.  He advised Andy to keep a close eye on me because I was a troublemaker.  He probably didn’t realize that I had had the opportunity earlier to swipe his silver, but had left the mansion with only my bride.

The problem came up in June of 1992 when the Maryland legislature passed a gas guzzler tax.  New cars with terrible gas mileage (gas guzzlers) would pay a high tax when purchased.  New cars with excellent gas milage would pay a much smaller tax.

I was Chief Counsel for the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) and we were responsible for regulating Corporate Average Fuel Economy (CAFE) for the automobile industry.  When Congress gave us that authority, it also prohibited states from coming up with their own plans.  You can see how frustrating it would be for the auto industry if each state could set its own fuel economy standards.

So I wrote a letter to Maryland’s Attorney General, Joseph Curran, Jr. explaining that their gas guzzler tax flew in the face of the Congressional mandate that the Federal government would regulate fuel economy.  I realized that what Maryland had done was embarrassing, but I thought it was to their advantage to learn about their mistake as soon as possible.

Wow!  I soon learned that when politics is involved, nothing is clear.  From reading the Baltimore Sun, you would have thought that I was assembling troops just inside the DC border, getting ready to invade the State of Maryland.  Then State Senator Chris Van Hollen accused the Bush Administration of attempting to take away Maryland’s taxing authority (In a later life, Chris and I were partners at Arent Fox).  I was interviewed on National Public Radio (our tax dollars at work) wanting to know why the Federal government was prohibiting the sovereign State of Maryland from exercising their tax authority.  I got the feeling that Van Hollen had written the questions.  I explained that I had no problem with Maryland taxing whatever they wanted, as long as it didn’t, in fact, regulate fuel economy.

Attorney General Curran told the press that the law might have to be tweaked.  Give me a break.  The gas guzzler tax was dead on arrival.  It had run out of fuel.

Then Secretary Card received a letter from Governor Schaefer blasting me as a troublemaker.  Maybe I should have swiped his silver.  By that time I had adopted P. T. Barnum’s approach to notoriety, “I don’t care what you say.  Just spell my name right.”

This is how the bureaucracy works.  When the Secretary’s office received the letter from Governor Schaefer regarding a NHTSA matter, they send it to NHTSA to prepare a response for the Secretary’s signature.  When NHTSA sees that the letter involves a legal matter, they send it to the office of the Chief Counsel for a response.  So guess who got to answer Governor Schaefer’s letter?  Yours truly.  I know that you are not the least surprised that Secretary Card thought that Paul Jackson Rice was doing an outstanding job as Chief Counsel.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

The Judge Says – Guest Writer for “Plain Talk”


Back in the early Eighties, along with being the Staff Judge Advocate at Fort Riley, I was writing weekly articles for the Post newspaper and the Junction City Daily Union.  It is amazing how much you are wanted if you work for free.  The Officers’ Wives Club was publishing a monthly paper called Plain Talk, and they asked me to contribute an article.  Below is the first article I wrote for them.  I wrote three articles for them before I was fired by the Commanding General’s wife because I was a male.  I was disappointed that it took her so long to figure that out.

                    PLAIN TALK      December 1981

                    The Judge Doesn’t Say

You want some plain talk?  Well you’ve come to the right person.  I used to fly on the DC-3 when they didn’t have the movies.  I talked all the time because the magazines made me sick.

OK, are you ready for some plane talk?  “The houses really look small.”  “My ears just popped.”  “They tell me my luggage will be on the next flight.”  “Your bottom cushion is also a floating device” (They have seen you at the pool).  “It’s really easy  once you take the little brown bag away from your face.”

I could go on, but you’ll have to trust me.  Nancy O’Malley asked me to talk about something you ladies were interested in.  So I told her I would talk about Burt Reynolds shaving off his mustache on the Johnny Carson Show.

That wasn’t what she wanted.  I suggested expanding into railroad talk (“the houses really are zipping by” and  “are you sure this is a dry state?”), and boat talk (“gee, all the houses on the shore seem to be bobbing up and down”).

Well, here I am smack in the middle of this thing and I still haven’t figured out what to say.  So I asked Carole to let me see the previous issues of Plain Talk.  She had them all neatly filed in a three-ring notebook.  Don’t you just hate people who are so well organized that all they do is act as a bad reminder?

Well, I looked through the first four issues.  PT is really a neat publication!  I would have been happier if I had not read the article on men’s fashions.  The only good news is that my threads may come back in style in five or ten years.

I got a little tired of seeing Ro smiling at me [she was the wives club president].  I don’t know if you noticed, but in each issue Ro’s picture gets a little smaller.  I think by March there will be nothing but teeth.

OK, that’s it.  Now you know I had nothing to say and I said it.  I think your paper is great and if I ever have a good thought, I’ll send it to PT.


Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Will Tiger Woods Win a Major this Year?


According to CBS, there are only two monumental events left to occur this year.  The Royal Wedding and the Masters.  I’m not too concerned about the wedding, but the Masters signifies to those of us who live where there are four seasons that it is time to get our game together.

The Masters is also the first of the four major tournaments.  Tiger had won 14 majors.  Will he win number 15 this year?  I think not.

It’s all about Karma.  I didn’t know much about Karma until I started watching the TV show “My Name is Earl.”  It was a sitcom with a deep underlying message.  Earl won $100,000 in the lottery and in his excitement got hit by a car and lost the lottery ticket.  While laid up in the hospital, a nurse explained to him that he probably had bad Karma for all the bad things he had done in his lifetime.  He bought into that thesis (and so do I), and made himself a list of all the bad things he had done.  He spent the next four seasons trying to right all his wrongs.  I lost interest in season two, so I don’t know how it all turned out.  I think Earl and the audience were put out of their misery when the show was canceled.

Anyway, I think Tiger has bad Karma.  And when I remembered that Tiger’s father’s name was Earl, it all came together.  Tiger, Karma, Earl.   Earl, Karma, Tiger.  Just like Harry Bosch, I don’t believe in coincidences.

So Tiger needs to make a list.  I have no idea how long the list needs to be, but I don’t think he is going to be able to rectify all the bad Karma this year.  Let’s see, there would be his wife, Elin.  I don’t think that apology went too well (and he paid dearly).  Then there are all the sweet things to whom he whispered that he truly had feelings for them.  At least the porn stars will be easy to find.

I believe it was in 1997 when he was interviewed after winning a tournament that he told the interviewer and the world that he didn’t have his “A” game that week.  Put all the other players in the tournament on the list Tiger.  You basically said, “I can beat all of you with my “B” game.

Put me on the list too.  Tiger told the world that he didn’t  have anyone helping him.  He was the only one responsible for making these affairs happen.  I’m thinking, how stupid does he think we are?  He had to have facilitators to assist him, to cover for him.

When he apologized to the nation, he looked me right in the eye and said Elin hadn’t hit him with a 5 iron.  Well, even though they are now divorced, she is still the mother of his children and he would want to protect her.  Plus, I’m pretty sure it was a 9 iron.

It is unimaginable that Tiger has not returned to his winning ways.  But, we all know that golf is a head game and bad Karma or no, Tiger has a head problem.  It impacts all golfers at one time or another.  I’ll give you an example.  A player is having a great day – best ever.  Then, on the 8th green, he misses a three-foot putt.  All the great golf psychologists will tell you, “forget about it – you have been playing great – put that little putt out of your mind – concentrate on your next shot.”  But all golfers know what happens on the next tee box.  The poor schmuck doesn’t have a chance.  He should be pleased if he keeps the ball in bounds and finds it.

Well, Tiger has done a lot worse than missing a three-foot putt.  He lied and got caught.  He cheated on his wife and got caught.  And now, even worse, he has been caught spitting on a green!  Tiger, put the greens keeper on your list.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Bombing Libya – Then What?


I’m confused about us going to war with Libya.  You say war, what war?  Well, firing a hundred plus missiles into another country is an act of war.  I am certain that the leaders of this country know this.

During the Cuban Missile Crises, we imposed a quarantine around Cuba and not a blockade, because a blockade constituted an act of war.  But that was 50 years ago.  Now, we just cut loose.

I have no use for Mommar Gaddafi.  I think he is a tyrant and a murderer, and if he were blown in to 1,000 pieces, I would be pleased.  I might even go as low at 200 pieces.

What I see in Libya is an internal uprising.  I see a revolution against Gaddafi.  I support it, but I don’t understand where we have the right to fire missiles into another sovereign, albeit tyrannical, nation.  The justification is that Gaddafi is slaughtering his own people.  When you have a revolution and internal forces attempt to overthrow their miserable leader, I would expect the miserable leader to fight back.  He obviously has and very successfully.  And those people he is slaughtering are the people who are trying to overthrow him (and most likely execute him).  None of this startles me.

It’s great to have missiles and air superiority.  But, if Gaddafi has superior forces on the ground, he will probably put down this internal revolt.

Did President Obama think these things through before he committed our nation?  What I am hearing is the US is only taking charge for a little while and then we will turn it over to NATO forces.  What does that mean?  Does that mean that we will bow out or just step back.  I suspect NATO will enforce a no-fly zone while Gaddafi forces wipe out the opposition.  I wish our President would have consulted with Congress before authorizing this act of war.

Bill O’Reilly says it’s OK to do it because Gaddafi ordered the bombing of Pan Am 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland.  Maybe we should indict him – Gaddafi that is.   But the Administration says it’s to keep him from slaughtering his own people – “innocent civilians” (who are trying to overthrow him).

At this time I was going to quote Colin Powell on only going to war when you have overwhelming power, understand the objectives and definitely have an end game to close out the matter.  In looking Powell up on the internet so that I could make sure I had the quote correct, I read that Powell supported Obama for President.  He thought Obama would provide fresh eyes to look at the issues. 

After reading that, I no longer concerned myself with getting the quote right.  I’ll bet Powell is feeling pretty stupid right now.


Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com

Carole Jeanne Valentine


One thing for sure, if you are going to marry a gal named Valentine, you better take St. Valentine’s Day seriously.  I did and I do.

I guess we started dating way back in 1955.  We got married in 1959 and until this year, she could always count on a Valentine’s Day card from me.  Sometimes flowers, sometimes candy or dinner, but always a card.  That is until this year.

In early February, we were traveling in Florida.  By the 7th of February, we were at Disney World.  It was shortly after our arrival that I realized I had no card for Carole.  I started nosing around gift shops and refreshment areas, but there were no St. Valentine’s Day cards.  I spoke to our concierge – no luck (No, I don’t want a post card!).  If parents wanted to spend $500 on  their eight-year-old daughter making her into a princess, no problem.  But try to find a Valentine’s Day card.

I panicked.  I thought about making a card, but my talents don’t run in that direction.  I am more of a stick figure artist.  Would Carole have a card for me?  Oh yes.  She, in her maddeningly efficient way, probably picked it out in early January.

Then, I realized that I write a Christmas poem every year.  Why not write her a St. Valentine’s Day poem?  I did and it solved the problem.  The trick is to write from the heart.  Here is what I wrote:

    It’s Valentine’s Day and I want you to know,
    Having you with me makes everything go.

    You’ve captured my heart, and captured my soul,
    When you’re not close by, I don’t even feel whole.

    So, I love you so much and I just want to say,
    Have a Happy, Happy St. Valentine’s Day.

(This was done by a professional.  Please do not try this at home).


Written by PJ Rice on ricequips.com