Gypsies In The Palace

We went to the Pirate Festival today. You can get the gist of it from the website.

My favorite part was the little comedy/magic show we watched called “Bunnies in Peril”. Nothing funnier than watching some pirates trying to be funny, not being real successful, and not really caring. My favorite part was when they picked a hottie out of the crowd to be sawn in half (“you wore the dress, you pay the consequences”) and discovered that she was ticklish.

Low part was when Eli wanted to ride the sea dragon ride, but then pussed out at the last minute. I started to force him, but he started to scream like a sissy. This is the same boy who impressed us last year when he rode up in a bucket truck by himself. Aaron still wanted to go, so I took Sarah instead of Eli. After the ride started, he started to cry because he didn’t go. I think he was ashamed.

There was something very strange about the place that I couldn’t put my finger on. Of course there was the period clothing, but these folks looked a little too comfortable in it. Maybe it was the music they were playing, or the crafts and wares they were selling. Maybe it was the long hair and the tattoos, or the Asian guy with the blue eyes. This was similar to a traveling fair outfit, but something was definitely different.

It wasn’t until later that I realized what it was. These folks are gypsies.

Bad Neighbors

There was a shooting a couple miles from my house early Friday morning. Initial reports were that a guy shot three of his neighbors. I could empathize since I’ve had some tension with my neighbors before. Secondary reports were that the shooter-neighbor may be a bit of a nutjob. Now I’m on the other side since I’ve got a crazy neighbor that I’m mildly concerned about, too. Paper this morning tells a much more interesting story.

The guy is Jeffrey Devries, a retired USF campus sergeant, and apparently he does have a screw loose. He’s paranoid that his neighbors are out to get him. Once he claimed that his neighbors were using “transponders” to send the voice of Stephen King through his electrical wiring. Officers have been called to his house eight times this year, but have never found evidence to back up his claims.

So at 2am Friday morning he sees four people on his front doorstep with torches and he starts shooting through the door. He didn’t kill anybody, but he wounded Samantha Sipka, 16; Jason Biaso, 19; and Mark Hoover, 46. Miles Bailey, 23, was also with the group by was not injured. They claim they were on the street. No explanation was given for the torches.

Devries barricaded himself in his house when the police arrived and kept the local SWATties entertained for about 7 hours until he surrendered, whereupon he got shot with a Taser and some rubber bullets for his trouble.

In addition to the strange conglomeration of ages and last names (and who hasn’t carried a tiki torch at 2am?), the story takes a turn when police find physical evidence that these people were on his porch when Devries opened fire, and one of them confessed it when presented with the evidence.

So WTF was going on here? I guess just because you’re paranoid…

The best part is, I bet this guy doesn’t even get charged, at least not with the shooting. He’ll probably get a “resisting arrest” or something for the standoff, and maybe an “improper discharge of a firearm”, but my interpretation of a law recently passed in Florida is that a person is no longer required to flee, but can shoot first when threatened on his own property.

Teenage Jackass

I can see that the 14-year-old boy across the street is going to be a pain in the ass. The hippie parents are sorely in need of some backbone to whip this kid’s ass before it’s too late.

He had a couple buddies spend the night last night and they were outside being a nuisance until well after midnight. They must have snitched a couple bottles of Bud Light from somewhere because they put the empties out in the street for cars to run over. Jackasses. At one point I looked out the window and saw the neighbor kid walking from the corner of my house back out to the street. He was probably pissing in my bushes.

My wife wanted me to call the cops, but I’m a little hesitant to get that started. I’m sure they get an earful across the street when hell breaks loose in my house and the windows are open. Last thing I need is those hippies reporting us for child abuse. The local cops are good ole boys and I’m sure they’d understand, but I don’t even want to go there.

Next time I see the dad I’ll tell him to keep his boy from snooping around my house in the middle of the night. It isn’t good for his health.

The Crazy Neighbor

I was out of town a couple months ago and got a call from my wife late at night. She had been awakened by a loud banging sound. Eventually she located the source as a woman at the house behind us. There is a privacy fence between the houses, so she couldn’t see real well, but she could tell there was a woman pacing back and forth on the pool patio, had some sort of stick in her hand, and seemed to be muttering and banging the windows and sliding glass doors hard with the stick.

My wife watched this for a little while and wondered what to do. We’ve never met whoever lives behind us. Except for the occasional light on at night we have no evidence that anyone even lives there.

While my wife watched, the woman gave the kitchen pass-through window a particularly good whack and it broke. The woman stopped and picked the glass out of the window frame, the crawled up on countertop and into the kitchen. It was then that my wife realized that the woman was completely naked.

She called me to relay the story and ask what she should do. She was tempted to call the police. After getting all the details, I found the story amusing and convinced her that it wasn’t necessary. The woman probably went out for a midnight skinny dip and locked herself out. My sliders have mysteriously locked behind me before. Besides, how many naked female burglars can there be?

Asking around the next day, my wife learned that the woman behind us is named Nancy and she is a loon.

That was months ago. We’d never seen Nancy before and we haven’t seen her since. It doesn’t even appear that the window has been fixed. It’s nice to have such a quiet neighbor, but kinda creepy at the same time.

Good Teeth

After many years of secrets, deceit, and mistrust, our relationship has become shallow and contrived. We smile and make small talk, but there has always been tension just under the surface. There is a void that separates us, a thing that always has to be talked about, yet never can be resolved. We have sometimes drifted apart for several years, each going our separate ways, trying to forget, only to eventually reunite and awkwardly pretend that it had never happened. I thought it would go on this way forever. But yesterday she surprised me. Yesterday she did something that I never thought she would.

Yesterday, my dental hygienist admitted that I don't have to floss.

Pirates!

Big news recently about a cruise ship that was attacked by pirates off of Somalia. Really nothing new, Somalia is bad, South China Sea (Indonesia) is worse. The media is fickle and they seem to have latched onto this one for some reason.

The short version, best as I can tell, is that two small open boats, each with 4-5 Somalis, tried to commandeer a cruise ship about 100 miles offshore using automatic rifles and an RPG launcher. They hit the ship with at least one RPG (no word on how many were fired), no one was hurt, and the cruise ship increased speed and escaped with minor damage.

Apparently, the crusie was also equipped with a “sonic weapon”. A very vague reference, but having thought a good deal about pirate defense for my future boat, one that immediately got my attention. Official line is, “We don’t comment on weaponry” (awesome), but I found an article here that talks about it.

It’s made by American Technology Corp, weighs 45 lbs., costs $30k, and is designed to “deliver instruction or directions to faraway individuals as well as unpleasant blasts of sound”, the latter apparently with “remarkable results”. On their website this feature is described as an “attention-getting and highly irritating warning tone for behavior modification”.

What I want to know, is can I get this as a gun? Or better yet, as an attachment to a real gun? Like the one I’m going to be aiming and will start shooting if I don’t start seeing some behavior modification after about 30 seconds of warning tone.

My approach to the threat of piracy, as well as most threats in life, is superior firepower. A while back I told my friend Andy of my desire to obtain an RPG for my own boat’s “weaponry”. He aptly pointed out that I’d likely get killed or spend a significant amount of time in Central American prison for my efforts. So instead I’m focusing on more conventional and accessible weapons, like shotguns and full-auto AR-15s.

Piracy is born of that special combination of desperation, lawlessness, and stupidity most often found in 3rd world countries. With a few exceptions of specialized piracy where cargo ships have been targeted, generally they are looking for soft and high-value targets: unarmed cruise ships and yachts. I’m pretty sure a simple display of resistance like firing a weapon in the air (would need some tracers for a night-time display) would serve as an effective deterrent. If they did bring an RPG, I bet they’d have a real tough time hitting anything smaller than a cruise ship from a moving boat. I’d take my chances with a shotgun.

Of course there are legal considerations. Not the boatload of dead Somalis. Nobody is going to miss them. My biggest concern is about getting arrested or having the boat impounded for illegal “weaponry” in some civilized country that isn’t sensitive to my needs for self-defense. Like the United States.

Honey, where's the shotgun?

St. Pete Boat Show 2005

We took the kids to their first boat show in St. Pete yesterday.

We’ve been trying to get them used to the idea that we may one day live on a boat. They’re intrigued, but understandably are somewhat dubious. Their only prior on-board experience has been a tour on one of my race boats and an afternoon on a pocket cruiser in Maine.

So yesterday we took them on a 36 ft. catamaran. It was the Jaguar, a South African cat. They were at the same show last year, which I thought surprising. Most of the attendees at St. Pete are the Florida builders. Hunter, Catalina, Caliber, Island Packet, Manta...? I had gone to the show specifically to see the Manta, a 42-foot catamaran, but they weren’t there. I was a bit put out.

The boys however, had a ball. I was annoyed and a little stressed out, so I’m sure I dampened their fun, but they definitely got the idea that this boat thing was alright.



I gave them a little tour, pointed out the important parts. “These are called lifelines. They can save your life. Don’t trip on the hatch. See the boom? You should always hold onto something. One hand for you, and one for the boat.” Which technically is the rule for when you’re peeing over the side, but it sounded like a good rule in general and I was paranoid about somebody falling overboard. “This is the bow. These are called trampolines, but they’re not really for...” Too late.

I probably had nothing to worry about. Given my height and size, I am a lot more precarious than they are. The boat was so big, they were hardly aware of the water at all. At one point, Aaron peered through the netting of the tramp and exclaimed, “There’s water down there!” Still, I had visions of somebody taking a bad bounce and going right off the bow. They were oblivious to the danger. I should throw them in the pool fully clothed to make the point.

Still annoyed, I didn’t want to go on any other boats and was ready to head home. The boys were not. They wanted more boats. We found one more their size and the sales rep was very nice to let them play in it.



Afterward I had the treat of paying $28 for 3 hot dogs, a corn dog, a pile of French fries and a smoothie (later in the day I bought four very nice filets for $23). Still annoyed, I wandered off to browse the displays of anchors, life rafts, engines, and other nautical whatnot. My wife, having a fantastic ability to meet friendly people when I’m not around (go figure), strikes up a conversation with the guy playing kettle drums. It turns out that he and his wife are former charter boat captains. They came ashore to have their kids, now 1 and 3, and are ready to head back out to do the family cruising thing. I love how he describes his shoreside existence: “We have some stuff in Orlando”. It was good for her to have that interaction, talk to folks that share the same dream, and to top it off she scored some cool steel drum CDs.

After lunch, the boys still wanted more boats, but our policy is to “quit while you’re still having fun,” so we left. Although I didn’t get to see the boat that I was looking forward to, it was still a successful trip. The boys got an idea for what kind of boat we’re talking about and they left hungry for more. And a little tired, too.