The Woodpecker saga

I guess it's been almost a month since I last wrote. Much has happened, most of which revolved around a smallish bird with an extra thick cranium. Our neighborhood was chosen by the woodpecker tribal council to be the mating/insect eating/hole drilling training grounds for the entire North American woodpecker population. We didn't know it until recently, each neighbor battled alone. Now, united we can begin to stand against them.

So my battle began on the internet, where I gathered my research data to learn how to fight them. What I learned is that you really can't, and most governing authorities will charge you upwards of $500 if you kill one. Back to the drawing board.

For many weeks, perhaps months, our method of attack was twofold: I would throw open the deck door, run out, and pelt the area being pecked with rocks while hissing like a cat that has just been turpentined, and my wife would throw open the blinds in the window and slam open and shut several times. (The primary pecking area was directly above our bedroom window, and the primary pecking hour was anytime before 7AM)

These attacks failed to impress the woodpecker, so I was forced to prepare myself to be separated from $500. I began to assemble my arsenal, sorting it in order of expected effectiveness. (See picture below)

Not pictured is the .177 caliber BBs that have been my primary weapon over the last few weeks. No, I wouldn't really use the .303 on a woodpecker, not because it would be inhumane, but because it would rip a hole in the side of my house the size of half a baseball. As it would turn out, the woodpecker would do that for me anyway.

My artillery was an exercise in frustration. Since the .303 was out of the question, my next choice was the blue tipped round you see, which is like a shotgun shell for a .22. As my luck would have it, there are apparently two different .22 calibers, and I have the smaller one. It wouldn't fit.

I briefly considered moving on to regular .22 rounds, but without the spray effect of the shot shells, I would have to be much more accurate. I didn't think it wise to pepper my house with bullets while I sighted my rifle in, so that was out.

Back to the BB guns. Many were the mornings I sat in my shed with my Red Ryder BB gun across my lap, and my CO2 BB handgun in my pocket. Since the rifle was pump action, I would take one well aimed shot with it, and then drop it as I whipped the handgun out and took several shots as the woodpecker flew away.

No luck. I am a terrible shot. Also, the woodpecker knew when I was out there and would just sit in the top of a nearby tree, heckling me.

So, I turned to my last resort. Frankly, this was the one I was most excited about, my paintball gun. When I thought about it, it is really the best option. I love to shoot it, I'm not endangering my house, it's occupants (my family), or my neighbors. Any hits scored are non-lethal, since I turned the speed down. And the paint washes away the next time it rains. All positives.

Did you know that the CO2 tanks for paintball guns expire? Let me tell you, if you ever have to live everything I have for the last few months, and then you get to the paintball store to have your tank filled, let me know if you can contain yourself when they tell you they can't fill it. And they're out of new tanks.

Fast forward a bit. I'm sitting in my shed again, this time with my paintball gun (all gassed up and ready to go) The stupid woodpecker is sitting in the top of his tree again. After waiting 30 minutes, I stand up, spray the side of my house in bright pink paint, and go inside.

He hasn't been back since.

So, in the end I didn't get the revenge I wanted, but I also haven't been arrested (nor have I harmed the bird) or fined $500. And I have a full tank of gas for my paintball gun ;D

And it's squirrel season.

-The Krunchy Krab

Had to laugh

This person has their priorities straight. I read this in the Upriver police blotter (all areas up the Skagit River from Mt. Vernon/Burlington WA)

2:30 p.m. A theft was reported in the 8200 block of Davis Lane, Lyman. The house was burglarized while the residents were gone. Stolen items include a camera, camcorder, 1/2 gallon of ice cream and the batteries to the TV remote. There are no suspects at this time.

Way to hit a guy while he's down - take his comfort food and then just when he thinks he can finally relax and take his mind off the burglary... he can't turn the TV on from the sofa.

It's sad to see such obvious genius so wasted...

-The Krunchy Krab

Give me a break people

This is really getting ridiculous. You remember the story in Boston where there were a bunch of lighted signs put up as an advertisement, and everyone thought they were bombs planted by terrorists? Yeah.
Here's a new one... from the same city.
This EE student, obviously afflicted only by bad taste in fashion, made a lighted design with LEDs and taped it to her sweatshirt. See below for the picture.

Now, maybe her only mistake was walking into an airport with this, but please people. I have probably 20 breadboards like this covered in much more bomblike circuitry. Am I going to be arrested now for being in possession of a "hoax device"? Everyone says that people need to be more aware, we all need to help look out for terrorists. Fine. How about people also need to be educated on the basics of what terrorist activities really look like?

Here are a few starters:
1) The circuitry involved to make a real bomb that runs on a 9 volt battery will be MUCH more complex than the one pictured above.
2) Terrorists don't scotch tape their bombs on the outside of their clothing.
3) There are a lot of gift shops in the Boston airport that sell cheesy light-up clothing that is scarier than her sweatshirt.

I would put these up on a readerboard somewhere for the general public to see, but I don't want to get arrested for planting a lighted bomb. Oh the irony!

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/22/us/22airport.html?ref=us

-The Krunchy Krab

I got to say it was a good day

Actually, it was a strange day. On my way to work today, I was detained twice, by two different police departments. No, I didn't do anything wrong. I was sitting, minding my own business, heading southbound in the left of three lanes on highway 99. On my right was a strip mall, with a parking lot entrance about 15 feet in front of me. Traffic was packed, and we were all stopped for a red light up ahead. The car directly in front of me (and the one directly to its right) had stopped short of the cars in front of them to make a gap to let a car in the oncoming turn lane make their turn into the shopping center parking lot while we were all stopped.

This turned out to be the bad idea that it always is, because there is no way to tell the cars in the right turn only lane that there is a car about to cross their lane. I could see the red car approaching somewhere near the speed limit (45 mph) and I saw the green car disappear in front of the cars in front of me. The next time I saw the cars, they were both spinning. Now, the damage to the car that was turning was amazing. Both rear wheels folded under the car, much like the Delorean's wheels on Back to the Future when it starts flying.

Anyway, I pulled into the parking lot and went over to make sure everyone was ok. Two other witnesses were there, one of whom was on the phone, calling the police. After helping the driver of the green car out, the driver of the red car began ranting at the witness on the phone, saying he should just go, everyone was alright and they could handle it without him. At the time, we couldn't figure out why she didn't ask myself or the other witness to leave... but that became apparent later on.

The Edmonds police came, and while we were waiting to give statements, we overheard the first officer ask for registration/license/insurance. It was immediately apparent why the woman didn't want the witness there who called the police, as she apparently had no insurance.

What compels people to drive without insurance? Sorry, I just think that's dumb.

So, I gave my statement, and drove away. Continuing down highway 99, I again pulled into the left lane, and crossed out of Edmonds into Shoreline. 2.5 miles later, I was again stopped at a light next to a shopping center. Again, the car in front of me had left room for someone to turn while we were stopped. To my utter amazement, I again witnessed a car zooming down the right turn only lane, and again saw cars spinning after a collision. Again, I pulled over, and got there as another witness was calling police.

What are the odds? I read something years ago that claimed there was a 1 in 4 trillion chance of anything happening. By anything, it meant things like a cow randomly falling on your lilac bush every time you eat corn muffins. I suspect the chances of this are somewhat higher.

My statement given, I continued on to work. La-de-dah. Shoo-be-doop. The day was strange as well - La-de-dah = my co-worker got a call from his wife that she had passed out and needed him to come home. Shoo-be-doop = our admin assistant got a call from her father that he had fallen and couldn't get up, so she had to go. Weird. The day ended, and I began to head home.

So, I'm heading north on I-5, this time in the second lane from the right. I guess I figured that my being in the left lane was bad luck for the other drivers. Traffic was once again heavy, and I began to slow down. In the lane next to me, a large truck decided that it should test how quickly it could stop. Unfortunately, the cars behind him couldn't see through or around him, to know that the cars ahead of him were stopped and he was testing his brakes. Amazingly, the car directly behind him managed to stop about 6 inches short of his rear bumper. The car behind that was not so lucky. As traffic pulled away, all I could see what a red hood folded in half and steam rising.

I guess I'm just bad luck in general. I think I'll ride the bus tomorrow.

-The Krunchy Krab