All Triskaidekaphobics and Friggatriskaidekaphobics Relax

Friday the 13th is nearly  finito. Only had one unconfirmed tornado spotted in the county, the dog is sick, and a god-squad broadast ministry out of California (where else?) guarantees the world is ending May 21. Whaddyagonnado….?

This is my last blog for quite some time, unless I can figure out how to work this software from the UP on a computer fueled by campfire wood. If not, I’ll check back sometime in late August, and remember, new hardback Woods Cop, Force of Blood and Death Roe (in softcover at same time) come out early September. First book signing will be in Marquette at Snowbound Books, Sept 3, 1-3 p.m. We should beat the snow. Let us depart with some interesting pix from CO Nightlinger in the UP, and another from Henry Kisor, author some great mysteries set in Porcupine County (you can figure out the real-world location. Henry has a cabin in that realm and knows the area well. Over.

Triple Trouble. The three kits will be moved to a remote location in the U.P. therein to live the remainder of their natural lives.
But, one cannot begin a journey until a free meal is devoured....
Succinct and to the point. Reminds me of all those people with no military service who are always yapping about what the military should and shouldn't, and can and cannot do. Hogwash.

Fishing Reports Starting to Come in

 

High-water trout from South Branch of the Paint River, Iron County.

My friend CO Dave Painter and son Brandon floated the South Branch of the Paint. Water high, operating canoe not easy, but they saw a lot of nice fish and managed the three in the photo. Also heard from friend Joe Guild up in Grayling the Au Sable river has been fishing pretty well, though yesterday a long streamer trip did not produce. So it goes. Over.

Mother’s Day Remembered

Photos here from our day on the Pere Marquette on Mother’s Day. Perfecto weather!

Get-in on Little South Branch of the Pere Marquette, place we call Two Chimneys.
Little South at Two Chimneys
Baltimore (Northern) Oriole at Two Chimneys (upper right center)
Jambe Longue put the stealth creep on this sandhill crane and got a nice closeup shot!
Two Chimneys
Ironwood on the banks of the Touhi Hunt Club. Looks like muscles rippling under the bark.
Little Asylum Lake, night before the PM trip, lots of wood ducks here and also an odd infrequently seen bird called a Sora.
Picnic shopping at La Mexicana, pre PM trip. All kinds of good stuff!
Stopped at Stop-N-Rob up north and saw these birds on bag of bird seed with a hole in it. I could hear them singing, "Should we?"
This guy mumbled, "Dudes, I'm all over it!"
Legendary Touhi Hunt Club
Ms. Doet Boersma contemplating the Little South at The Little Cabin in the Woods.
PM, Flies Only stretch, above Sessions
Ironwood at Miss Smiths, PM, Flies-Only.
Pere Marquette Palz.
Tick-time and we don't mean clocks. Be prepared. Long sleeves, you know the drill.
Strike Dog on the wall at the hacienda.
We got home and to our surprise found this beautiful cluster of forget-me-nots. I had a packet of seeds, years-old, and last spring dug a small hole and dropped them in, then forgot them. But they didn't let me for get them and never will. Gorgeous flowers!
Best way to look at forget-me-nots is close and personal!

Pere Marquette on Mother’s Day

What a day yesterday was!  Jambe Longue and I took our new friend Doet Boersma up to the PM yesterday so she could get some photos for her artwork. Bluebird sky, soft air, it was spectacular day. I’ll post photos when Lonnie gets them dumped into the ‘puter. We stopped to see friends Dick and Lu Schwikert on the Little South Branch of the PM and saw some late steelhead on gravel. Dick also told me he’s had two reports in the last week of coho salmon spawning with Steelhead. Ordinarily they spawn in fall with Kings, but Chinooks are mayhaps too much competition. Sizewise they match up better with steelies. Course not an established thing, but an interesting report by any standard. Also, I finally found an ironwood  tree! Was actually leaning on one when I realized what it was! Been looking for them for years. And we saw orioles and rosebreasted grosbeaks and lots of stuff. River is quite high still, though dropping. Shanny swam in just about every spot we stopped. Dick says the bears haven’t been spotted yet in the Baldwin area, but it shouldn’t be long before they come snooping for bird feeders! Spring is flexing its muscles — finally!

Meanwhile my friend Jack Schneider from Marquette sent photo of eagle he took Saturday on his way home from work. Gorgeous creature. And I lifted a couple of fox kit photos off CO Kellie Nightlinger’s Facebook site. Enjoy. Bay tomorrow with  pix from the PM trip.

Keeping the vigil.
Look at me!
Little one

Rockhunters Eat Your Hearts Out (Me included)

Jeff King of Pickford sent me the following photos of an agate he harvested in the White Fish Point area. Note the characteristic  “potatoey” look of the raw stone (far upper left). This is how they look before tumbling and polishing. It’s a beaut!

Rejigging my Crystal Ball: And Far More Important Things

Okay, so the Prez didn’t authorize issuance of the photos, but CBS showed two other dead men from the same night, holes and blood and all. I don’t get it. I predict the next rumor will be that the President wouldn’t authorize Bin Laden’s death photo because the President is a Muslim. Not true, but this might very well be the direction the conspiraloonies go next. We shall see. I think the photo should have been released, but who am I — just some schmuck in a rusted out Flyover state. Twill be interesting to see where the phone numbers sewed into Bin Laden ‘s clothing takes the hunt next. A Pakistani military or ISI contact? Stay tuned. Will be happy to get into the woods so I can ignore all this baloney and posturing by everyone. California used to be the land of Fruits and Nuts: Now it’s nearly the entire country.

My friend Mike Vairo’s mother Dorothy passed away this week, 95 years old, a fine, fine lady born in Mohawk, Michigan in the Keweenaw. She will be interred in St. Ignace in July to rest beside her late Husband Joe, himself a UP original. Vairos are related to the one-time owner of the bar under the Calumet Italian Hall where in 1913 there was a party for the children of striking miners on Christmas Eve, somebody yelled “Fire,” 60-70 people died and nobody was ever charged or  brought to justice.

 Some years ago Dorothy took vehement exception to my characterizing the UP as a wilderness. Got really mad!  She was something. Most recently she decided (months ago) she’d lived too long so she took up smoking to accelerate the process. Course she was told it would take years of smoking to bring about the desired end, she just harrumphed. When state put up billboards promoting the UP as a 5-Star Wilderness, she seethed.  Last summer she was with Mike and Family at the cottage on Upper Lake Michigan and Jambe Longue, Shanny,  and I stopped in and Mike said, “Joe Heywood’s here, ” and she barked, “He’s not Joe Heywood!” She sort of had a nascient grudge about me — stemming to my sometimes overly physical play in our high school basketball days when Mike and I used to go head to head Iggy vs. The Yard. (They never won.) She will be missed.

And my friend Roger Kullenberg also passed away earlier.  Of Benton Harbor and Michigan State  roots, he was a lifelong newspaperman with ink for blood, a brilliant wit, and seldom a cold word for anyone. Rog  passed on a few days before Dorothy.  Next week I’m going to play cards with the Kalamazoo Gazette “Geezers” (odd game called 99) and I am sure the night will be filled with Roger stories.

Tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo, a late portent? We’re gonna go to Azteka in the morning, and get some skull pastries just to mark the times. Then it will be off to find a en plein air easel and paint supply box for Jambe Longue who finally will have time to paint this summer.

On both a happy and mystical note, Jambe Longue’s sister Mary Miars and her famous singing twins Megan and Liz, relocated to Nashville to begin their professional singing careers. They arrived at the rental  house before the realtor got there, and walked across the street to an empty field to get a better look at the house; there they saw a bluebird land on the roof. Mary and Lonnie’s dad, Cam Miars, passed away a few years back and the family has always equated bluebirds with his spirit looking after them. Who is to say they’rewrong? Naturally they all wept and when Mary talked to Lonnie, then she joined in to.

Over.

Allerdyce Interview

A reporter I once met long agao sent me the following transcript of an interview he did recently with Limpy Allerdyce. The reporter’s name is Robin Goodfellow. He writes for a nature conservation website in England. They met at Allerdyce’s compound in southwest Marquette County. His plan was to publish a profile of the old violator on Goodfellow’s blog.

GOODFELLOW:  Thank you for hosting me at your home, Mr. Allerdyce.

ALLERDYCE:  Call me Limpy or Allerdyce.

GOODFELLOW:  Where does the name Limpy come from?

ALLERDYCE: Call me Allerdyce.

GOODFELLOW: Beautiful rustic home you have here. May I take photos?
ALLERDYCE:  Camp, not home. Take pitchers youse leave here with camera up youse’s ass.

GOODFELLOW: You are friends with the game warden, Mr. Service?

ALLERDYCE: (Holds up crossed fingers) Me, Sonnyboy, like dat.

GOODFELLOW: You’ve known him long?

ALLERDYCE: Since his mum spit’ im out and bit it.

GOODFELLOW: Bit what?

ALLERDYCE: Died. Back den womyns died havin’ dere kittles, eh.

GOODFELLOW: How old are you?

ALLERDYCE: How old you?

GOODFELLOW: I’m not writing about me.

ALLERDYCE: (Shrugs)

GOODFELLOW: Do you and the game warden see much of each other?

ALLERDYCE: We don’t shower together, that what youse mean.

GOODFELLOW:  I didn’t mean to imply.  But I have been led to believe that you assist him from time to time on the prosecution of some of his cases.

ALLERDYCE: Sonnyboy,  he don’t need no help.

GOODFELLOW: You knew his mother and father?

ALLERDYCE: His old man was pal. Old lady, not so much.

GOODFELLOW: Service’s job has changed some in recent years.

ALLERDYCE: Don’t pay no attention. His job. Not mine.

GOODFELLOW: So you don’t work with him?

ALLERDYCE: Sometimes.

GOODFELLOW: Sometimes you do, or sometimes you don’t?

ALLERDYCE: Yes.

GOODFELLOW: You have the reputation as one of the biggest poachers in the Upper Peninsula, so joining forces with a game warden seems to me, at least on the surface to be a bit unusual.

ALLERDYCE: Biggest poacher in hull state. But not no more.

GOODFELLOW: You’re telling me you’ve reformed?

ALLERDYCE: That what you call it?

GOODFELLOW: Yes, reformed. Changed.

ALLERDYCE: Youse say.

GOODFELLOW: On what kind of cases do you collaborate?

ALLERDYCE: Use English, youse.

GOODFELLOW: It is English. The Queen’s English.

ALLERDYCE: We only got Yooper English.

GOODFELLOW: But your local patois is unique.

ALLERDYCE: My panties is what?

GOODFELLOW: Patois, your way of speaking.

ALLERDYCE: English, not no panties. Don’t talk panties, less you talk ‘em off gal.

GOODFELLOW: Word is that you like the ladies. In fact you’re sort of a legend along those lines, I’m told.

ALLERDYCE: More like dey like me.

GOODFELLOW: Service has a girlfriend?

ALLERDYCE: Yah sure, he porks’ cute Troop dickateckative  lives down Marquette.

GOODFELLOW: Do you have a ladyfriend?

ALLERDYCE: When I feel like it, eh. Dey all over place up here, bar, church, eh.

GOODFELLOW: You attend church?

ALLERDYCE: Bar.

GOODFELLOW: Taverns are not churches.

ALLERDYCE: Mebbe where youse come from.

GOODFELLOW: Can we talk about your career as a poacher?

ALLERDYCE: Talk all youse want.

GOODFELLOW: Will you be candid?

ALLERDYCE: (Puffing up). I tole youse no cameras, no pitchers.

GOODFELLOW: What I meant to say is will you be open with me about poaching?

ALLERDYCE: Youse can ask. We’ll see, eh.

GOODFELLOW: Was it lucrative?

ALLERDYCE:  You call me Lucifer?

GOODFELLOW: Lucrative, from lucre. It’s a word for money.

ALLERDYCE:  You mean money, say it.  What wrong with youse?

GOODFELLOW: All right, was the work profitable?

ALLERDYCE: What work?

GOODFELLOW: Poaching

ALLERDYCE: Wunt know. I ain’t never violated.

GOODFELLOW: You revised my statement to make sure I knew you were the biggest poacher in the state, not just in the U.P.

ALLERDYCE: You got it on tape?

GOODFELLOW:  No sir. You said no recorders, no cameras.

ALLERDYCE: Good. Yer word against mine, bub.

GOODFELLOW: Have I offended you?

ALLERDYCE: Not sure. Have youse?

GOODFELLOW: I just want my readers to get a sense of the poaching life. We have poaching in England, but it seems sort of tame compared to here.

ALLERDYCE: What I care what youse got or don’t got?

GOODFELLOW: (Frustration growing) So when did you last see Mr. Service?

ALLERDYCE: Don’t keep no book.

GOODFELLOW: Would you describe your relationship as one of friendship?

ALLERDYCE: I might. Doubt he would.

GOODFELLOW: Does he trust you?

ALLERDYCE: Some, not all.

GOODFELLOW: Do you find that annoying, this lack of trust?

ALLERDYCE: His feeling, not mine.

GOODFELLOW: So you trust him?

ALLERDYCE: Some, not all.

GOODFELLOW: How did you and he meet?

ALLERDYCE: Shot Sonnyboy in leg.

GOODFELLOW: Shot him?

ALLERDYCE: Shotgun (Points to his own leg)

GOODFELLOW: An accident I presume?

ALLERDYCE: He try cuff me, o take me in. We sort of rassled, pow.

GOODFELLOW: And you went to prison?

ALLERDYCE: Seven years, Jacktown.

GOODFELLOW: What was that like?

ALLERDYCE: Place fulla butt-fuckers, earrings and tats, Queen English like youse talk.

GOODFELLOW:  Why was Service trying to arrest you?

ALLERDYCE: Don’t ‘member. Look ‘er up, youse.

GOODFELLOW: You ever see any cougars up here?

ALLERDYCE: Not for long.

GOODFELLOW: You mean you just catch glimpses.

ALLERDYCE: (Rubs belly). Not for long.

GOODFELLOW: But you do have eagles up here.

ALLERDYCE: Taste like shit. Eat too much rotted-out roadkill.

GOODFELLOW: You eat your national symbol?

ALLERDYCE: Govmint  eat us. What youse t’ink taxes is, eh?

GOODFELLOW: Why are you standing up?

ALLERDYCE: Tired talking youse.
GOOD FELLOW: You mean the interview is over?

ALLERDYCE: Your call. I ain’t talk no more.

GOODFELLOW: Will you be so kind to give me an escort back to my vehicle?

ALLERDYCE: You got hundred?

GOODFELLOW: Dollars?

ALLERDYCE: What you think?

GOODFELLOW: This is robbery!

ALLERDYCE: Robbery when I hold gun you, take money.

GOODFELLOW: This is at the very least extortion.

ALLERDYCE: Give Limpy hundred, call it what you like.

GOODFELLOW: And if I refuse?

ALLERDYCE: Don’t take no wrong turns on way out, eh.

GOODFELLOW: I’m not intimidated.

ALLERDYCE: Have nice walk. You see bear with scar on head, run.

GOODFELLOW: I was told one should never run from a bear because they’re too fast.

ALLERDYCE: True-dat.

GOODFELLOW: Why then did you advise me to run?

ALLERDYCE: Give you something think about till bear rip out your guts and eat youse head. Had camera youse woulda  had Kodiak moment, take pitcher of bear  just before he swallow your head.

Mr. Goodfellow advised in his note that he paid Allerdyce $100 at that moment, was shown the trail out to his rental, ran as fast as he could,  and did not look back on his way to Marquette. He says the interview will not be published and he will never again return to the Savagelands of America’s Rust Belt.

I called the reporter this morning in New York. “Lucky you didn’t bump into a Waheela on your way out,” I told him.

“A what?”

“Waheela, it’s sort of a wolf that runs mostly alone and takes off the heads of human victims.”

“Blimey, you Yanks are all balmy,” he muttered.

I was going to offer to give him a hundred bucks, but he  abruptly hung up.

Indeed we are a bit on the balmy side.

I didn’t tell him the white crows are out and about tonight, but they are. Over.

Bin Laden: Thoughts The Day After

I’m incredibly proud of our intelligence and military,  and especially SEAL Team 6 for getting bin Laden. Now for my rant: while I’m proud of the people who got bin Laden, at the same time I’m ashamed of fellow Americans calling into C-Span and other media outlets with the most abject and pathetic b.s. imaginable:

“We shot him in the face, so we can’t ID him.  Does government think we’re stupid?”

“I just ‘cawin’ to say US government is lying. “

“Obama released long birth certificate to confuse people, so can’t believe him. “

“The Israelis were behind 9/11, but we ain’t going to Tel Aviv.”

“Where is proof he’s dead?”

“Now there’s gonna be more legislature on our rights.”

“So they say he’s dead and I just want to remind everybody  this is a victory for Team Obama.”

“Can’t believe our Precedent…” (sic)

“How do we know he ain’t been dead for years and they just saying this now to make us think they got him?”

“He ain’t dead, they captured him and they’re interrogating and torturing him.”

“This is all a plot of the One World Government.”

“You’re probably gonna think I’m crazy, but everybody does anyway.”

“How’re we gonna solve world peace now?”

“Is it coincidence Ghadaffi’s  intelligence guy comes over and suddenly we find bin Laden?”

“Whenever I heard about this last night, I’m Christian and he was murdered by god who says people in the Bible get punished.”

“Why do we got to treat his body by Islams law and give him proper burial. People in New York didn’t get burials per se.”

 Americans have an opinion on everything even when they are clueless. After 9/11 we took exception to certain Muslims celebrating the events in New York City. Now we kill bin Laden and what do we do? Think about the stellar example of citizenhood  on TV last night, shirtless, with a Budweiser in hand cheering like his team just won a damn football game.

It’s not a game, and it’s not over. As a people we need to shut up and listen and politicians need to stop making one-minute speeches so they can get publicity. This is a time for a deep breath and contemplation.

From my own listening and reading, here’s what I believed happen and what will come next: SEAL Team 6 landed at the compound 35 miles north of Islamabad, and the fight began. Bin Laden’s compound was less than 100 meters from what amounts to the Pakistani War College, or Command and Staff School, or similar. A fight erupted immediately. At some point bin Laden was killed, as were others. It’s not clear if we killed him or if one of his security people did so, and it doesn’t  matter. Our SEALS got the body, did facial ID (bullet going in front of face doesn’t have to make major damage – going out usually does). We also took tissue samples from bin Laden and his son, who was also killed, chucked the corpse on a chopper and boogied. DNA takes time. I predict when DNA comes back toda or tomorrow the photos of the body will be released. Even then, some Americans will continue to develop all sorts of conspiracy theories. Dudes, what you people really need to worry about is the US government coming after  you, because they will, ya know, sayin’?

Part of our collective problem is our seeming inability to remember history. When the Soviets were driven out of Afghanistan, we cut off all support to the Kabul government and rebel groups —  and in that space the Taliban (created in part by Pakistani intelligence) moved into the void and took over the country and there in created a refuge for bin Laden. Lesson: Now that he’s dead, we can’t just walk away from Afghanistan or we may have to do this all over again down the road. We need to help them get control of their country.

Finally we seem to talk and mourn the thousands killed on 9/11 (and other attacks), but nobody mentions the numbers of soldiers killed and wounded trying to find this sonovabitch. According to the Washington Post site (not updated since Feb 20, the number of US military lost stood at 5,885 (4,424 in Iraq op and 1,461 in Afghanistan). These numbers are out of date, but we lost more people chasing this guy than we lost on 9/11 (and that’s counting the 4,000 plus killed in Iraq, where he at the time had no role.). It seems to me that when we talk numbers we ought to talk about all of the dead from this, not just the catalyst.

A lot of people will avoid speaking this, but here’s my take: the brutal opposition to Obama comes down to his being Black. People use all sorts of codes to refer to him, but they really mean they don’t like the color of his skin.

Question for youse — C-Span: Does that stand for Crazies-Call-in Span?

Following the blog entry is a sign from Upper Michigan expressing the same sort of antigovernment, conspiracy fears as the callers to C-Span. Read it. It’s real, not something I had to make up for a novel. “All earthly governments are rule by Satan?” Sheesh. It takes all kinds, I guess.

Of all the commentary today there was one that stood out as sound advice for the moment. A woman called in and said, ““My mama always told me talk good of the dead. He’s dead. Good.”

Amen and over.

Citizen Opinion.

Bin Laden Gets His

Goodbye to a barbaric animal ; may he rot in Hell or whatever other place the so-called man reserved for evil pieces of shit who purport to carry out god’s orders. Congratulations to our CIA, other intelligence agencies, our government, and most of all to the courageous special forces team that went into Pakistan and got him yesterday.  It usually seems wrong to celebrate a person’s death, but not this time.We should take the high road and treat his body with respect, but good riddance to a dog. Now, where is  al Zawahiri? You’re next, bub. Over.