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Author Topic: Member Interesting, Hair Raising, Humorous or Otherwise Unusual Experiences  (Read 2542 times)

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AGelbert

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Alas for me, I need to know how it works as well, but this is just a discussion and exchange of ideas, not argument I hope.

To Agelbert, I will describe two people to show what I believe in both grace and personal will, maybe even karma, without prayer or anything being miraculous.

About a month ago, I was stopped at a red light at a pedestrian crossing on a busy main road at 3.45pm. There was only one person crossing, an Indian schoolboy about 12 years old. He was slouched against the pole. I had been stopped for a while, about 5-10 seconds, when BANG!!! the car beside me had been hit from behind so hard it jumped right across the intersection. It was a very small and light car, an early 90s model ford, driven by immigrant collecting childten from school, but less than a ton.

The car that hit it must have not even slowed or braked, but stopped dead, a larger, modern car driven by a white middle age woman who was in a daze. I guess thats the physics of the impact.

But the amazing thing is that the boy had not crossed the road. I am sure I had been stopped long enough that the green walk signal should have been on. I was on the left lane and the car beside me that got hit was in the right lane, the length of time i was stopped being at least 5 seconds, the boy should have been in front of the car beside me at that moment.  Thats what I call Grace.

My anecdote to do with Will involves a motorcycle cop Ive known a long time. On about July last year at about 5am he also ran straight into the back of another vehicle without even braking, but this time the weight advantage was with the stopped Toyota pickup, not the police bike. I think unless you have constant regular work shift at that time, its very hard to be alert. Do a 12 hr shift at that time when your body clock is screaming for shutdown and here is what can happen. Head first, not good.

When I heard of the injuries, coma, brain damage, lost eye, half a head made of metal and leg still in a brace for now, I thought he was better off dead. Yet he has been positive and humerous throughout, now with a great trick of taking out the glass eye.

The numerous surgeons involved said he will not ride motorbikes again, his reply 'bullshit'. After I dont know how many tests of function and like a 17 year had to sit learners drivers test in a car. Now working towards motorcycle when the brace comes off. He refuses to take a desk job, but goes to the station and sits on the parked police bikes. I have no doubt now he WILL do it again, when i thought he was going to only drive a wheelchair with constant migraine, so i count it miraculous. No religion invoked at all, only Will. Karma? I don't know, except that he's spent a long time on suspension. Mean guy? No, opposite.  The outpouring of support from literally hundreds of people saying what a humbling inspiration this is, is testament to that.


I agree with you that the kid was saved by God's grace.

About the other fellow, I hear ya. People who just give up die pretty quick. It's good that he has not given up. The will does play a part in human interactions. I agree that is important.

But, I've had too much strange stuff happen to me when my will was working exactly backwards to credit the will above a certain level of cause and effect routine interaction.

The experience was coming back from a movie and stopped at a light (I previously wrote about it here about 5 years ago). There wasn't a car in sight. It was dark, quiet, and the light turned green. I'm not colorblind. I was young and a certified commercial pilot.

I just sat there, thinking nothing in particular. No, I wasn't thinking about the movie. I was pretty much in neutral, watching he green light and the surrounding street intersection darkness. Nobody was talking at the time. I had ZERO distractions. A few seconds went by and my brother in the back seat with his wife, who's will was working normally ;D, (my wife was in the front seat) said, "It isn't going to get any greener". I said, right, and immediately took my foot off the brake and moved it to the accelerator as a car without headlights streaked a few feet from the front of my car in the road I was about to cross at over 70 mph. Had I moved, we would have all been dead. We were in a 1966 White Toyota Corolla just like the one below:


I crept accross the intersection and drove home uneventfully.

We were all deathly quiet the rest of the way home. That car would not have protected us and we all knew it. It's hard to chit chat when your heart is in your throat. 😨

The strength of will was my enemy there. You can call it anything you want that saved four people's arses that night, but I call it God's grace. Mind you, I was an atheist at the time. The kid you observed got his will short circuited temporarily exactly the way mine was.

God or one of His messengers (angel means messenger) does this kind of thing routinely. Materialists have trouble handling it. As an atheist, I just could not figure it out. Eventually, I did.

It is impossible to understand these types of experiences from a mechanistic reductionist perspective which so limits the atheist when confronted with cause and effect anomalies that result in the saving of lives. As Palloy and some others here will probably do from reading this anecdote, I made up lots of excuses and tried to relegate the experience to a "coincidence". That was bullshit. It was no coincidence, but I won't get into a hair splitting back and forth with him or anybody else here who thinks I'm telling tall tales. If they think I'm full of baloney horse hockey, that's their problem, not mine.

The human strength of Will isn't always a plus. Sometimes it is extremely counterproductive.


Paul ain't got nuttin' on me. I am the CHIEF among sinners. So, I have a LOT to be grateful for by Jesus Christ coming into my life. I know how to fly the big jets too. I am confident that I will never use my dastardly skills to kill. But you never know. Being a Christian is a daily struggle, not for the feint of heart. I am NOT a nice guy. My good works behavior and willingness to forego revenge for the evil visited on me and many fellow humans for Christ is the result of God's grace, PERIOD.

These threads just wear me out, and I tend to give them a wide berth. But scanning this, AG's words resonated.

God's grace plus a big dose of humility born of self-reflection, IMO.

You do well to give credit to Grace, but sell yourself short, I think, for your walk.

But then whathtefuck do I know?


You know enough to honestly comment with your heart as well as your head. 

Nobody can ask for more. Thank you.
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

AGelbert

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As we older folks get on in years, our body does not make the same amount of melatonin. Sometimes people make the mistake of trying strong seep drugs, which they become addicted to and just make sleep harder, and costlier, to come by. 👎

All you need is 3 mg of melatonin a couple of hours before bed. You then sleep like you have always slept. 👍

Good to know.

I have found that I need much less sleep than I did when I was younger. Five-six hours seems to do it these days.

Although in my dotage, I have gained a fresh appreciation for a well-placed nap!


Needing less sleep as one ages seems to be the norm. In my case, that did not happen. I still need around 10 hours of sleep to feel rested. My dad, who never needed more than five hours or so, was always on my case about that when I was in my early 20's (and before I had a steady job ;)).

I am certain I would be more productive if I needed less sleep. But unfortunately, that isn't how I'm wired. In West Point (you NEVER got more that 6 hours there) I actually fell asleep after asking a question (while the computer software teacher was answering!).

In engineering graphics class I routinely had to join the small (two or three) group of cadets in the back that were allowed to stand (to avoid falling asleep). We would lean on the radiators back there. One rime I actually dozed off standing up, but did not fall over (sort of like a horse - lol). The radiator burning my arse woke me pretty quick, though. :D

When I was 26 or so, I was driving one saturday morning to an Air National Guard weekend warrior drill and fell asleep briefly. I know I fell asleep because I was starting a long curved to the left section of the road and suddenly the road was straight in front of me. Well, the adrenaline shot (either side of the curved road  was and 8 ft. embankement and a swamp the car and me would have been submerged in) was enough to keep me 👀 wide awake the rest of the day. 

Now, unlike when I was young, I do not sleep straight through the night. I wake up to urinate once (so far! ). C'est la vie.

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.”
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

Surly1

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Now, unlike when I was young, I do not sleep straight through the night. I wake up to urinate once (so far! ). C'est la vie.


Pretty common with age. Depending on how much liquid I've consumed I do the same thing, sometimes twice.

I read somewhere that back in the pre-electric days, it was common for people's sleep to be divided into two parts, with time for socializing (!) or other indoor sports between both sleep sessions.

Not any more.

AGelbert

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Now, unlike when I was young, I do not sleep straight through the night. I wake up to urinate once (so far! ). C'est la vie.


Pretty common with age. Depending on how much liquid I've consumed I do the same thing, sometimes twice.

I read somewhere that back in the pre-electric days, it was common for people's sleep to be divided into two parts, with time for socializing (!) or other indoor sports between both sleep sessions.

Not any more.

I didn't know about that two part sleeep time division from before electric lighting. It makes sense that they would do that because back then a lot of the work was physically demading, so they needed to stagger the rest periods with the socializing. 

Too much of what society considers "normal" does not make any sense any more. :(

By the way, how's the arrhythmia medication holding you up? My pacemaker still seems to be workin' okay, though I've skipped several six month checkups. ;D

My last doctor left Vermont after staying here less than two years. That's two doctors now. Perhaps it is my BO :D, but it's probably something unrelated to me personally. Doctors would go bankrupt if they had to rely on me going to frequent checkups. I do not DO the "repeat visit" business model of the modern "health" care bidness. If I ain't sick, I don't go. They don't like that. Too bad.   
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

Surly1

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Now, unlike when I was young, I do not sleep straight through the night. I wake up to urinate once (so far! ). C'est la vie.


Pretty common with age. Depending on how much liquid I've consumed I do the same thing, sometimes twice.

I read somewhere that back in the pre-electric days, it was common for people's sleep to be divided into two parts, with time for socializing (!) or other indoor sports between both sleep sessions.

Not any more.

I didn't know about that two part sleeep time division from before electric lighting. It makes sense that they would do that because back then a lot of the work was physically demading, so they needed to stagger the rest periods with the socializing. 

Too much of what society considers "normal" does not make any sense any more. :(

By the way, how's the arrhythmia medication holding you up? My pacemaker still seems to be workin' okay, though I've skipped several six month checkups. ;D

My last doctor left Vermont after staying here less than two years. That's two doctors now. Perhaps it is my BO :D, but it's probably something unrelated to me personally. Doctors would go bankrupt if they had to rely on me going to frequent checkups. I do not DO the "repeat visit" business model of the modern "health" care bidness. If I ain't sick, I don't go. They don't like that. Too bad. 

Regarding sleep, your observation about physical labor is a good one. I attributed it to early bedtimes in the lack of artificial lighting. Human cycles would have followed the sun's light. And farmers are early to bed, early to rise, generally up before daylight.

But what do I know?

In re my arrhythmia and the meds, so far so good.  No pacemaker yet, knock on wood. A friend of mine has one with no ill results.  Don't go too long without a service call, though.

AGelbert

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Quote
Posted by: Surly1
Regarding sleep, your observation about physical labor is a good one. I attributed it to early bedtimes in the lack of artificial lighting. Human cycles would have followed the sun's light. And farmers are early to bed, early to rise, generally up before daylight.

But what do I know?

In re my arrhythmia and the meds, so far so good.  No pacemaker yet, knock on wood. A friend of mine has one with no ill results.  Don't go too long without a service call, though.

Glad to see you are doing good. 
 
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

AGelbert

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The Racist Nextdoor

Money quote:

Quote
Neither Nextdoor nor Neighbors have responded to The Root’s request for comment. Ultimately, Nextdoor is just a piece of technology and a tool for communication that can be used for good or evil. These apps aren’t creating more discrimination. When someone burns a cross or sends a racist letter, it is not the fault of the tree that produced the paper or lumber.

“I mean, there’s racist people on Facebook, on Twitter, everywhere,” said Stinton. “It is like being a fly on the wall in a roomful of racists who all think they are invisible. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a person of color to have to see that.”

“I can,” said the invisible black man.

“It’s like living in America.”

Full article:
https://www.theroot.com/the-racist-nextdoor-1835939264

Thank you for posting the above story, Surly. 👍

I read the article with interest, since I have been on both ends of racism evil. Also, the question about choosing between being able to fly or being invisible resonated with me. I have often wished to be able to become invisible at will, but not so I can spy on people; my motivation is based on avoiding being on the receiving end of casual racism. This is why, here in Vermont, I have adopted a reclusive life style.

I have discussed the way it "works" here with you before, so I won't go into that, except to say that I read (several years ago now) about how popular with Vermonters some selectively local internet software (like "Neighbor") was. When I read that happy talk about how great it was to share important local info, I immediately knew that a significant percentage of that "important info" most Vermonters were sharing was casual racism, though the article did, of course, not imply that.


It was a source of sadness for me because I agree that said apps do knit a community closer together and do facilitate kindness and help in time of need. The problem is that too many Vermonters regard quick access to a timely warning, a kind word or a helping hand as a privilege not to be shared with "outsiders". Moreover, they are quite skilled at microaggressions (i.e. legal harrassment) for the purpose of letting "outsiders" know, in no uncertain terms, that they are not welcome to participate. :(

I am sure Vermont society is not unique in this regard. I actually admire how Vermonters stick together and care for their own. Their lack of trust and acceptance of "outsiders" is based on hard experience, so it is not an illogical or implicitly immoral modus vivendi.

Of course, the Devil always manages to get into the details. Overly provincial Vermonters are shooting themselves in the foot by arbitrarily accepting fellow Vermonters (some who will rob you blind with a smile on their face), while arbitrarily rejecting "outsiders" like me and my wife. It is, of course, our loss. But, I have no doubt that it is, even more so, their loss.

Some may read this and ask, "WHY don't you move?". "Because I like it here", is the first thing that comes into my head when I ask myself that question.

However, it is only partially accurate. I do like cold weather and marked seasonal changes, so that covers why the climate here is agreeable with me (and my wife too!).

My support of socialist politics has nothing to do with living in Vermont. If you think the majority of Vermonters are "Socialists", or that the State Government is "Socialist", you have never lived here AND have listened to a lot of hype from the media about "Liberal Socialist" Vermont.

Capitalism is prevalent here, unfortunately. There are some (rather paltry) heating assistance programs for the poor but, really, there is nothing Socialist about the Vermont State Government and the overwhelming majority of Vermonters.   

The best answer I can honestly provide is that I experienced complete and utter rejection at the hands of my friends and family due to my challenging my father and siblings in 2004, when they took me to court so I would accept a pittance for my inheritance due from my mother, who died in 1990. Said "agreement" would have stripped me of any right to an inheritance from my father when he died. Perhaps I should have agreed, since Christ did say that you should just let them take what they wanted when someone asked for something, even to the point of offering more than they wanted ( Luke 6:30 "Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back."  Matthew 5:40 "And if any man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also."

But, unlike my father and all my siblings, I am poor. I perceived their unprincipled behavior, not as that of one who begs, or one who takes out of simple aggressive avarice, but one who deliberately abuses a poor brother (But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? 1 John 3:17).

I stated they were unjust and, of course, lost even the roughly $46,000 (MINUS $7,500 in "legal" fees for the lawyer who happened to be Larry's new wife's son) they had offered in the process. Perhaps I was wrong to fight over money. Perhaps I am rationalizing my futile efforts to make two judges (one in 2004-2006 and another one in 2014-2016) provide inheritance justice, but that effort was key in exposing the ugly truth about who these "friends" and relatives were in their heart. If I had accepted their offer, they would have continued to prop up the illusion I had lived under my entire life, that they cared for me as much as I cared for them.

I still care for them and have, though it has been difficult to do, forgiven them for their sin. But I resolved, as far back as 2006, that until they repent of their sin, I will not feed their sick need by associating with them. All they have to do to make amends is write a letter admitting their wrong, apologizing for it, and making restitution. A sister called to say my father died in 2008. The same sister called to say her husband died in 2014. My oldest brother called a few times in 2014, just asking me to call him. Another brother called in 2016 with a message about a "motion" he was going to file (which he never filed - all those calls were about the last bit of highway robbery going on at the court on their behalf). The same sister that called in 2008 and 2014, the one who had been the "Christian" mouthpiece thoughout my siblings' attempt at manipulating me since the year 2000, called in 2017. I think that was to tell me about the death of my oldest brother at 77 (he had Parkinsons for nearly 20 years and colon cancer for over a decade).

I had picked up (I'm a bit slow) on this particular sister's (the other two are far more into abrasive mocking and cheap shots) practice, since 2006, of engaging in manipulative false compassion punctuated, when she figured my guard was down, with guilt trip psychology. Her last suggestion was that the best thing I could do is make out a an affidavit rejecting any and all claims to inheritance from my parents. I said I would do that right after she did and said goodbye. I stopped answering her calls after 2006.

I didn't learn of my oldest brother's death in 2017 until this month. I hope he made it, but his total loyalty to my brother Larry, the ringleader of the inheritance scam (who committed routine adultery with my first wife, and who I believe is the father of one or both of my "children", both who sided 100% with "Uncle" Larry on the inheritance "issue") with my father and all my other siblings, does not give me confidence.

When I confronted Larry about his 1971-1988 routine adultery many years later (over the phone in 2004 during the Larry's first inheritance lawsuit scam against me), he said, "She's not my type.". Now where have you heard that recently? Birds of a feather, and all that.

My present wife Carmen had always claimed I didn't have enough evidence that Larry was the possible father of one or both of my children, since I had never done any DNA testing to find out for sure. I agreed my suspicions were circumstantial but insisted, for many reasons of observed behavior I could not list completely even if I talked for several hours, that he had to be the father.

Over the phone (earlier in 2004), even before the "She's not my type" remark Larry made to me, Carmen had a conversation with Larry about how estranged my "children" were (and still are) from me (Ever so clever Larry was posing this as a ploy to convince Carmen to persuade me to grant an inheritance power of attorney to my "daughter"), Carmen stated that I could not trust said daughter and mentioned my paternity doubts to Larry without accusing Larry. Larry instantly said that was "ridiculous because of the blood tests".  Carmen had said nothing about "blood tests". Larry had that quicky answer too ready at hand. He didn't say I should check the DNA. Larry's prepared answer was exactly the thing you would expect if he and my ex-wife had conspired to respond this way in the event that the issue of dubious paternity came up. Someone who had never questioned said paternity would ask about blood tests or DNA, not claim the paternity issue had already been "settled by blood tests".

I don't recall ever discussing blood tests with Larry. I never bothered with blood test math when I learned the blood types of my "children" when they were born because it did not occur to me at the time that anyone but me could be the father! So, who, exactly, discussed those blood tests with Larry, if not my ex-wife? And, more importantly, WHY would my ex-wife discuss blood tests with my brother Larry who lived next door when both of my "children" were born?

When Carmen heard that, she began to take my doubts seriously, but was still not totally convinced.

As Trump did recently, the, "She's not my type" unstated (but BLATANT) message is that the ONLY reason to immorally do or not do whatever is whether said woman is a certain "type" or not. For Larry, the flippant remark directed at me was obviously a sneering bit of cruel mockery and disdain for any concept of morality whatsoever. IOW, the fact that he is my brother is, to him, irrelevant in deciding whether to commit adultery with my wife. This is the way sociopaths think.

After Larry's "She's not my type" remark to me, considering that his wife, since 2001 or so, is an olive skinned Puerto Rican lady that is very much (as opposed to his blonde and blue eyed ex-wife from Maine) the same "type" as my ex-wife, Carmen became convinced that my fingering Larry as the possible father of one or both of my "children" is reality based.

At any rate, even DNA lab work to establish paternity is a challenge when two brothers are the candidates. Blood tests, in these cases, are less than useless.

My subsequent disconnection from all these manipulators and hypocrites (some of them claim to be "Christians") has given me a great deal of peace. All of them share "greed is good" personality traits.

Which brings us back to why I do not move. You see, all of them mostly do not like Vermont or want to live here.

My wife and I will live out our days, whether they be the Last Days prophesied in the Bible or not, in Vermont.

The Czar's Blessing for my family and former "friends":
 
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

AGelbert

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Quote from: AG
As a Spanish speaker, I can tell you that the word "titere" (three syllables, accent on the first syllable, pronounced Tē-Tĕ-Rĕ) does not just mean "puppet"; it is used far more often as a pejorative label for people without scruples that will steal anything not attached when you are not looking. It fits.

I didn't know that. That is just perfect.

Glad to be of service. I didn't even know the "puppet" synonym meaning of the word "títĕrĕ" until I was a teenager. The correct Spanish word for "puppet", which I learned early on, as any child that watches puppet shows becomes familar with, is "Marioneta" (Marionĕta - accent on the short ĕ).

I learned the hard way in Puerto Rico how títĕrĕs operate. In that society, poor males are incorrectly all branded as Títeres (poor females are also incorrectly harshly judged across the board, but in the area of immorality, not larceny).

The middle and upper classes in Puerto Rico are as well represented by a significant portion of Títeres as the poor, but people pretend that is not the case. Of course, all those doing the pretending are mostly from the middle and upper classes. I know all about it. Mea culpa.

When you were a kid, did you have a lock for your bicycle? Well, that doesn't work in Puerto Rico unless that lock has some heavy duty chain and the chain is wrapped around a telephone pole or something like that. Also, the chain has to go through BOTH bike wheels and the frame or the part not chained will not be there when you come back.

My old man bought me a nice new Vespa scooter a long time ago when I was young and inexperienced in Puerto Rico. Having spent most of my early childhood in California (1 year), Washington State (1 year) and Kansas (7 years), I reached my teenage years without locked doors and locked bikes.

I had already become "acquainted" with how to properly lock bicycles in Puerto Rico. My new Vespa, looking almost exactly like the one below, was a lot heavier than a bicycle and had a good lock on the steering wheel so I thought no títere would try to steal it.


I went to see a new sci-fi movie with a buddy that lived up the street from me. I parked the Vespa right next to the ticket window under strong lighting by a well traveled street. It was not there when we came out of the theater. It was a long 4 mile walk home. >:(

I went to see the first Planet of the Apes movie and the Títeres made a 🐵 monkey out of me. That's when I began the dark path to become a Republican.

It took several decades for me to understand the truth that I avoided facing back then. Thanks totally to God's TRUTH, I faced the fact that the Upper Class Títeres were, and still are, the direct cause of the routine theft poor títere modus vivendi.

But that was later on. When I realized that, if they had taken the Vespa without busting the steering wheel lock, more than one person (i.e. a GANG of Títĕrĕs!) had worked together to carry off my Vespa, I could, and did, blame the poor living in the "arrabal" (ar-ra-bál = shanty town/slum) about a mile from that movie theater.

I don't know if I was right about who stole the Vespa, but I was right about the habits of many residents of that particular arrabal.

About 4 years later, I was a licensed flight instructor at a small flight school. A friendly, quiet fellow who took a few classes in instrument flight training (he already had a Private Pilot's license but did not have an instrument rating for flying in zero visibility weather) asked me to be the flight instructor on an "instrument cross-country" flight to Miami and back. He offered $5,000 for a trip that I would not charge, at the most, more than $300. 👀

I said it was a good deal, but what else was going to be in that rented aircraft on the way back? He said we would rent a flight school Cessna 172, fly to Opa Locka Airport (just north of Miami) in Florida, and just leave the aircraft parked at Opa Locka airport overnight. We would spend the night at a motel. He would pay, of course.

The "boys" would load the cargo secretly and call him when the plane was ready to go. I would never see or speak to any of them. These people were professionals. The plan was to fly to Puerto Rico, with one legal stop for fuel required at South Caicos, and one surreptitious illegal stop at an abandoned airstrip (Tortugeros - about 25 miles west of San Juan International Airport - our official legal destination because you have to go through customs when you stop outside the USA on the Opa Locka to San Juan trip). At Tortugeros the cargo would be swiftly unloaded and we would proceed to San Juan and go through customs like good 😇 little pilots.

The cargo was Cannabis. I told him I had no issues with Pot and thought it was ridiculous that it was illegal. I told him I could use the money but would have to think about it. He then invited me to "see something".

I followed him in my 1967 Chevy Impala to, of all places, THAT arrabal :o I spoke of above. As soon as I parked the car, at least five young men with the stereotype títere characteristic predatory shifty eyed look appeared out of nowhere. My short, unassuming companion immediately changed his demeanor. He strode up to the group and told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to touch my car for any reason. They all bowed their heads submissively and walked off.

We then walked into the arrabal. It was like walking into the middle ages, but worse. All the "buildings" were shacks made with mismatched plywood panels, coca-cola metal signs and cheap corrugated metal roofs. Electric wires, WITHOUT a meter in sight anywhere, were strung willy nilly among all the structures. We walked on a sort of boardwalk about a foot above the ground over rivulets of some dark liquid flowing under it that smelled of sewer water. That was their "plumbing" system.

I heard radios playing but people did not show themselves. I could not imagine people living that way. And who was this dude that commanded so much respect and knew his way around this arrabal so well, if not a gang leader of some sort? I was not worried because I knew he wanted my pilot skills. However, I was pretty sure that I would have difficulty getting out of there without injury if I didn't play nice with him.

With a little more than single file walking room, after meandering along the boardwalk through this arrabal mess for about 40 yards or so, he stopped. All the shacks along the way on either side were basically all leaning on each other this way and that, so it was hard to tell where one shack ended and another began except for the electric wires strung above them. My companion said I could take absolutely anything I wanted from what was inside this particular shack. I looked in and saw at least thirty or forty radios and TVs of all sorts. THEN I KNEW who had stolen my Vespa many years ago. This place was a poor títeres stronghold! I thanked him, but told him I needed no stereo or TV equipment.

My inner thought was to get the hell out of there. Another terrifying thought was that now that I had been shown what was obviously a treasure trove of stolen merchandise, what would they do to keep me from telling the police about it? I needed a ciggarette.

I tried to look relaxed and told him I was planning on getting married soon and could sure use that $5,000 (hoping to keep the fellow from getting angry), but needed to think about the trip more. I launched into a discussion of technical stuff like avoidiing radar, transponder operation, the procedure for landing at an unlighted field at night, and so on, to buy some time to get to my car.

All that said, I was not bullshitting him. I had actually thought about that stuff in a nuts and bolts type of way. In fact, I was no saint. If I thought I could get away with bringing in a load of Pot to Puerto Rico (my companion said it was from California -lol!- and to think people always thought drugs went only from South America north to the USA), I would have done it. Also, I mentioned the Vespa I had stolen from me years earlier and he said he would track down who had done it and make sure I was reimbursed. I said I would love to see that happen, as I was grounded for way too long without my Vespa.

I reached my car, thanked him again for the offer, and said I would ponder the plan and discuss options with him if I agreed to make the trip. I drove off, immensely relieved to be out of the arrabal and determined to never step foot in there again. And NO, I had no plans to tell the police about the stolen merchandise. The pollce down there are crooks too, but who operate with even more impunity than the petty theft títeres enjoy.

A few days later the fellow showed up at the flight school and asked me what I had decided. I told him that I would tell no one of him or his plans, wished him success, and repeated my belief that Marijuana should be legal. I carefully added that I was not concerned with the merchandise he showed me and would not discuss it with anyone. BUT, I had decided not to make the trip because I understood that I could not make just ONE trip. I said I knew they were serious dudes in this business and knew how their repeat business "business model" functioned. I did not want to be coerced into making many trips. I told him I was sure I could successfully make one trip, but making a habit out of it would land me in jail. I told him I did not want to go to jail.

He said that they were "Family", and they would never try to force me to do anything against my will. I remained quiet. He never got mad or lost his temper. For that reason, I figure I was dealing with a very tough customer. I'm sure he had me watched for a long time afterwards, and would have given me "the business" if I had talked about what I knew from him. I never saw him again.



Another pilot at Isla Grande Airport, where I was teaching flying at the time, entered the drug smuggling business around the time I was approached. A fellow who's last name was Zorniac owned and operated a small flight school. He had a light twin for teaching the multi-engine rating but he had something far more attractive to drug smugglers.

In addition to the flight school, he had an air taxi service with a short field aircraft that flew cargo instead of people. This specialized (i.e. STOL) plane can land and takeoff from a small parking lot or a short beach, so it is an ideal smuggler aircraft.


The offical peformance stats on this STOL (short take off and landing) aircraft are way too conservative. I've seen them take off and in less than 30 feet! True, fully loaded they would need more runway, but drugs are not heavy cargo, so the maximum load take off distance listed below does not apply to drugs and the very thick (the closer to sea level, the shorter the takeoff run for the same load) air common to South American and U.S. drug smuggling operations.

Quote
The PC-6 is noted for its Short Takeoff and Landing (STOL) performance on almost any type of terrain - it can take off within a distance of 640 feet (195 m) and land within a distance of 427 feet (130 m) while carrying a payload of 2,646 lbs (1,200 kg).

Since 1959, these planes have been made and sold hither and yon. They say they will produce the last one this year, 2019. Now you know why that particular plane had such a long production run. I guess the new "plan" for the drug smugglers is to use STOL drones. Why pay a pilot when 😈 you can smuggle drugs without one?

A few years later Zorniac was caught and sent to prison for smuggling drugs. I don't know if the dude that approached me was involved with Zorniac or not, but considering the cartelization and territoriality of crime bosses everywhere, I do not doubt it. I never saw a picture of the polite fellow who approached me in the paper on the Zorniac bust, so I guess he knew how to hide better than Zorniac did. 

Now that I look back on the folly of my youth, I realize that the blame for the habit of engaging in unprincipled behavior by humans who become títeres must be viewed in the proper perspective (i.e. the amount of larceny damage they do). The títeres doing most of the damage are those in the "upper" (SEE: Orwell) classes. The rest of them are just following the example of the títeres at the top.

I was raised to make a habit of lying to myself about who the real good people are and who the really bad people are. Virtually ALL of my blood relatives and in-laws think that's fine and dandy (the alleged "Christians" refuse to admit it - the others just grin - they are ALL birds of the exact same "feather").

God has taught me to stop that. I often pray that God rescues my blood relatives and in-laws from this soul destroying evil. People who lie to themselves are serving evil, and if they do not repent of serving evil, end up being evil.

“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.” -- Fyodor Dostoyevsky
« Last Edit: July 31, 2019, 05:56:54 pm by AGelbert »
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

AGelbert

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🍂 Autumn in Colchester Vermont 🧐
« Reply #83 on: September 07, 2019, 04:03:25 pm »
Agelbert NOTE: This isn't an unusual experience. I'm posting this video from 2012 that I ran into today (I don't know the person that made it) because it shows how pretty the foliage gets 🍁🍂 around here in October. The leaves scanned to produce the images below were all collected in my yard.


The fellow did not pass by my home, but the extensive tree 🌳🌲 coverage is the same all over this (now Resident Owned! ) manufactured home park. The new name for the Park is Westbury Homeowners Association. ENJOY!

October 🍁🍂 Drive In To Westbury Park, Colchester, VT, HD
793 views


Troy Simpkins
Published on Nov 17, 2012

Enjoying the beautiful autumn colors of the blazing maple trees as we drive in Westbury Park to our new home. This has to be the most beautiful mobile home park in the country!

Category Travel & Events
« Last Edit: September 07, 2019, 05:22:48 pm by AGelbert »
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

AGelbert

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👍 Good info on the CT scan for early Lung Cancer detection and prevention. I technically do not qualify because I never did smoke a pack a day. In fact, I would stop for a year or so, on three or four separate periods, during the 30 years I smoked more than half a pack a day.

It's been 12 years since I quit smoking. However, for the decade before that, I had been smoking  htree cancer sticks a day (or less). Carmen was always on my case to quite. I had worked my way all the way to one cancer stick a day in 2006.

On January 3, 2007, I experienced multiple syncopes. I got implanted with a dual chamber Medtronic pacemaker. I had a smoke after I left the hospital. :P

That night at around 3:00 A.M. I had to poop. I nearly passed out on the head. I managed to lay down on the floor. Carmen was asleep. It was another syncope. The pacemaker kicked in and the nausea and dizziness left me.


I have not smoked since then.

There is an old saying in Spanish: "A golpes aprende el perro." The rough translation, that applies more to people than dogs, is that physical blows teach the dog, It applies 100% to me. 
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou
hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Acts 8:20

 

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