Unfulfilled Wishes

I've always wanted to own a tank. 

If you've been reading this blog long enough, you may recall that I wrote about this back in April of 2008, when I noted with envy that a Michigan university student had built a 1/2 scale operational model of a World War II German panzer that cost about $2000 to build, had a three-cylinder diesel engine that produced a maximum speed of 20 mph, and was equipped with an air cannon that fired golf balls and empty Red Bull cans.

How cool is that?

If some genie popped out of a bottle and offered me a wish, I might ask for a German Leopard 2, which is pretty intimidating ...

Or, to be a Buy American patriot, I might ask for one of those M1A2 Abrams beasts used by the U.S. Army, at least until Secretary of Defense (not War) Pete Hegseth decides they have to be retooled to run on high-proof testosterone ...

Either one would do for a leisurely commute down the commuter hell of Interstate 95, or to contend for a prime parking place at Costco on a Saturday afternoon.

My current chariot is a 2022 Toyota Avalon hybrid, a fine machine to be sure, with marvelous gas mileage (no small thing nowadays) but not something with which to command respect (if not fear) in Northern Virginia traffic.

I thought about the whole tank thing again when I saw this recent post from the Babylon Bee ...

I'm at the age where the DMV is starting to suspiciously ask for things like proof I can actually see and react to external stimuli before renewing my driver's license. I'm not sure how they'd react if I'd ask for an endorsement to drive a tank, too.

I don't think I'll ever get my tank. Even the most die-hard Second Amendment crazies aren't pushing for tank ownership rights, although perhaps they'll get to it after they manage to convince the Supreme Court to approve personal ownership of flamethrowers, armed drones, artillery, and tactical nuclear weapons.  

I'll wait. Not patiently, but I'll wait.

Because I really want my tank.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

Cutting Remarks

As you probably know by now, Dear Readers, I love to cook. There's a huge element of satisfaction involved in turning a pile of ingredients into a delectable meal, especially when I know that a lot of my fellow men* are desperately challenged by the task of serving up a bowl of cream of boiled water soup.

But actually, the joy of putting a fine meal on the table is secondary in many respects to the joy of using a large, sharp knife to cut up the ingredients. This is my preferred method of taking out my suppressed aggression ... and it's perfectly safe, as long as you're not too close to the cutting board when I think about the latest stupid Facebook comment or Congressional buffoonery.

I have a collection of very good knives of which I'm very proud and very protective - they're from the German manufacturer Wüsthof, and the series is called Culinar**. They're stylish, very sharp, and nobody complains about the menu when I'm holding a 10-inch chef's knife.

Many people ask, though, why I need so many different knives. They all cut stuff, right? So why do you need all those different ones? Here's a handy chart I found online that helps to explain it for you:

The Culinar series doesn't have a cutlass, yet. But you can bet that as soon as it comes out, I'm getting it. How else can I chop vegetables and repel boarders at the same time?

I run a cutting-edge kitchen, dontcha know!

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* And, more and more, women.

** Here's a useful link, in case you're thinking about birthday or Christmas gifts for me already.