The Need for Drama

Looking back over my efforts, I must say that they are nice bed time stories but by and large they lack drama. So how about a nice dog fight? You may not know it, but I am an accomplished dog fighter; I don't mean setting up matches between two dogs, I mean, in the blue corner a sometimes substantial dog and in the red corner, Khun Fred.

I was a letter carrier for two years long ago and that's where I served my apprenticeship. I was thirty and 0, with one draw, and one law suit after I TKO'd a standard poodle. I remain undefeated. Tomorrow I'll share with you my most recent exploits combating the canine race.

The Call of Old What’s-His-Name

My benefactor has a dog, a white dog, and darned if he doesn’t make me recall that loyal old what’s-his-name in “Call of the Wild.” He’s a lot more wild than tame too, that’s for sure. I can’t pronounce his name, but it’s Thai for “dirty dog.” He comes to me now whatever I call him because I am generous with chicken bones, after I am through with them that is, dogs are so easy.

He’s a healthy looking dog, a sturdy, muscular 45 pounds or so, with a powerful neck and jaws. He is a white dog, also like old what’s-his-name. I say healthy looking, healthy except for the fact that he has no balls.

I don’t mean to say that he lacks courage. He’ll charge even the largest chicken in the local field. He only shies away from the bulls, which after all is probably a good idea. I mean that, literally, he has no balls. He’s not fixed; they don’t do that here. He just got cheated, or maybe it’s like the English music hall song (if I may paraphrase), “and when they said testicles, he thought they’d said spectacles, and he said, oh! I’ll have none of those.”

I observed him during the recent dog mating interval, and his technique with female dogs was very simple: he ignored them completely. I saw a very attractive, young, good sized female come a’ calling one day. She stood about 15 yards away for a while, then slowly approached. He stood up and quietly stood still. She approached and it seemed to me like she smelled his breath, that was a new one on me. Then she moved along his body so they could get a snoot-full of each other. She moved away and smelled around his bowl; it was empty at the time. She did all this unmolested. She kept her dignity as she walked away but I’m sure that she was quite humiliated.

Our reticent champion prefers cavorting with other, even less dominant dogs. If they are sufficiently obsequious, or perhaps crippled in some way, he can be quite a bully.

No, old unpronounceable has either stunted testicles, or undeveloped testicles, or undescended testicles, but for whatever reason he just has a little flap of skin with nothing in it. He doesn’t seem to miss them. I suppose most men wouldn’t either if they’d never had them in the first place.

Guest Blogger: Peg Leg Lee

I love Khun Fred, he is respect like Thai man. Many Farang not respect, I not like too much. Khun Fred ask, want to help Lee, not ask, Lee help Khun Fred. Very help Lee, many time. Call me Khun Lung Lee, very respect, wai very good. I love Khun Fred.

The East is Red

It's so easy to generalize; you who know me well, though, know that I myself am loathe to generalize. But as I get around I see so many uncouth Chinese men and women that sometimes think, god, the Chinese are uncouth. More likely, of course, that the shear numbers of Chinese insure that there will be lots of the great uncouth among them. The place is so big that maybe there are whole huge backwaters that are full of them.

I'd hate to be judged by the behavior of a random sample of Americans traveling overseas, as in 'ooooooo-wwweeeee Earle!!! this here red stuff is Spicy!!!

Fact remains, however, there are lots of uncouth Chinese traveling around Asia. I've seen them in Thailand and I saw them recently in Kuala Lumpur too. Women eating like cowboys, or pirates; sitting way back from the table, legs wide open, elbows out, holding up big chunks of food on the tips of their forks and taking noisy bites; talking to people at their own table at the top of their lungs; laughing and shouting greetings to every friend they see, no matter how far away; wearing every cheap outfit imaginable; standing interminably in front of the coffee pots stirring their cups; taking little bites of tropical fruit, smacking their lips loudly and making a face like they were doing mathematics.

To be fair, I avoid the expensive hotels so I don't rub shoulders too often with the hoi-paloi of any country. Also, the Chinese haven't gotten out much recently, I mean in the last two thousand years, so maybe they just get over-excited.

Sh*t, I can be pretty uncouth myself, but I think (hope) that I am much better at hiding the fact.

Cool Website Alert! Version 2.0

That which I thought was lost appears below; let me know which one you prefer.

There are guys out there, you know who you are, guys with talents and abilities that make a mockery of the rest of us. Like the guy that, just for the hell of it, built, on his own milling machines, at his house, a fully functional one/fifth scale reproduction of a 1970’s Chrysler Hemi engine. It bears clarification: he started with the original blueprints, scaled every part down to the new spec’s, hand built every part, painted the thing factory colors, put it all together and it runs, with its own little just-like-the-original radiator for cooling, in fact it runs like it could pull a train, it torques on the mounts like it was ready for the drags.

Check it out: craftsmanshipmuseum.com

They have a little video clip of him starting it up, it’s spooky.

Cool Website Alert!

There are people out there, you know who you are, who have otherworldly talents. Like the guy who built, from solid billits of steel on his own mill and lathe, an exact replica of a 1970's Chrysler Hemi engine that is as big as a shoe box.

Don't take my word for it, go to: craftsmanshipmuseum.com. They have a little movie clip of him starting it up, you heard me, it runs. It even torques on the mounts like a muscle-car engine. It has it's own perfect scale radiator for water cooling. Every single part, valves, springs, everything, is reproduced in, what is it, one/fifth scale or something. Everything that is on the original blueprints.

These guys are nuts, but I mean that in a good way, not like there's anything wrong with it.

Swans and Magpies

There I was, sitting, watching Australian football, having a couple of pops, hanging out, having fun.

I can't help myself, I like Aussie football. The players look like huge, muscular soccer players; they need to run around pell-mell for long periods but they need to be able to absorb big impacts too. More often than not, some of them are bleeding at any given time. Lots of broken noses in evidence, lots of teeth missing, arms and legs scarred by errant spikes. And a powerful scent of bad attitude: is that all you've got Bruce? My auntie hits harder than you. Pirates looked like this; Viking raiders too. Mongol horsemen too, only shorter. Maybe Attila's boys.

I know that they talk about American football like the rugby players do, "those American boys in all them pads and helmets, bunch of Mommy's boys." I would love to take the Collinsworth Magpies, or the Sydney Swans, or the who-si-whats Bulldogs, give them ten weeks to get ready, and put them in a balls-to-the-wall American football game with the Steelers, that'd wipe the smiles off their faces. All the pads and helmets in the world won't save you when you get hit head on by a six foot four inches tall, two hundred, eighty pound man who can run the forty meters in nine seconds flat and bench press four hundred and fifty pounds. And I'd love to see any two of them try to move one of those plow-boys who play guard or tackle, that mountain's staying right where it is.

But these Australian boys are game, and their game is rough, no doubt. They take quite a beating in their shorts and tank tops. When all is said and done, though, and they retire from their game, I bet they are better off orthopaedically than their American cousins.