Our annual hunting trip begins. It is 1:24 a.m. on October 15, 2014. I can't sleep... more on that in a moment. Each year for the past 6 years, I find myself traveling to the Montana-North Dakota border for our annual pheasant hunting trip. The first two years were rather easy. I simply got in my car, set the cruise control on 80 and arrived in one day- about twelve hours by high speed Frankenmobile. Then a couple of things happened which changed the course of human events. My father moved back to Idaho from North Dakota which unbeknownst to me initially and later knownst to me each year thereafter- meant that my father and I would be traveling back together to hunt each year. This is moderately tolerable given the fact that my father travels 10 MPH under the speed limit come hell or high water. At no time in his life has the thought ever occurred to my father that his son once picked up a driver's license around 1976 and then logged something north of a million miles in

10/14/14. This is a four year old piece from the FG archives. I thought I'd repost it because it's just as good today as it was back then. It received a whopping 75 views. The background music was nice. Brian Well today ends my disco week marathon. Thinking rockin' country week next week. So while all you people were doing useful things, like swilling beer, practicing self love, and sleeping...I was putting this gem together. As a career cop, nothing pisses me off more than the Transportation and Safety Administration. Months after the 9/11 attacks, these termites infiltrated my ski resort home town. I tried to play nice with these guys. Let me tell you how they select the TSA hierarchy. Potential candidates for upper level jobs are asked to undergo a CAT scan. If they see any evidence of common sense as demonstrated by electrical activity in the frontal lobe- you are summarily disqualified, your transfer is denied, and you are sent back to your job at the post off