“The U.S. Food and Drug Administration is warning consumers about the risk of ultraviolet radiation overdose with the Tootsie Tanner portable foot tanning device.
“Use of the tanning device can lead to an overdose of ultraviolet radiation because its labeling recommends an improper duration of exposure to radiation and the device has an inadequate timer. The labeled exposure schedule indicates that the device may be used for 30 minutes, and the timer control permits 30 minutes exposure. Based on FDA testing, the maximum exposure time for this device is 20 minutes.
“The device fails to provide prominent warnings about the need for protective eyewear. Use of this product according to the labeling could result in an overdose of ultraviolet radiation, which may cause immediate and delayed serious eye and skin injuries.”

This raises a host of questions.

Why would a person want to only tan their tootsies? This raises the image of a pair of well-tanned feet going directly up into pasty-white ankles.

Are there other devices out there intended to tan other body parts? And if there are, do we really want to know about them?

Why would you need eye protection if you are tanning your tootsies?

If you toast your toes with a Tootsie Tanner and file a lawsuit, would it be called the Tootsie Tanner toasty toes tort?
And, finally, this is the portable Tootsie Tanner. Are there people out there with permanently-mounted Tootsie Tanners?

The FDA press release doesn’t even begin to address these questions and I’m not sure anyone else will either. But they are fun to ponder on a later summer day.

It’s not every day you see teachers, guns and public records access all tied together.

The comments following the piece make for pretty good reading as well.

My take is that public records are just that, open to the public, meaning you, me and every other citizen. If there are exceptions (and I agree some information should be restricted) it’s the job the legislature to define what those exceptions are. But that’s just my opinion.

It obviously wasn’t the regular Horizon flight. It also looked to be Air Force gray, but with its swept wings and four engines, it definitely wasn’t one of the big air cargo jobs from McChord AFB who occasionally use our airport for practice approaches.

So I called the airport manager, Jennifer Skoglund, and she was able to solve the mystery in a hurry.

“It was a KC-135,” she said. “They’ve been down here quite a bit. We’ve been working closely with Fairchild (AFB) and we’ve been getting about two to three a week.”

Jennifer was happy about this because, even if the planes don’t touch down, the airport can still count the approaches in their traffic count. Every bit helps.

If you want to see what one of these guys looks like, just click here.

Just think of this the next time you start complaining about the heat. At least in August you don’t have to worry about the car turning into a 2,000 lb. hockey puck.

Obscure American holidays are often overlooked, but are often the best excuses for a great theme party! National Root Beer Float Day is August 6^th. So gather your friends, grab the flavored vodka and ice cream, and spike your sodas for some frozen adult fun!

Three Olives Vodka recently released the world’s first Root Beer flavored vodka, perfect for celebrating the little known holiday! Over a century ago, Root Beer was introduced as an alcoholic beverage, and Three Olives is thrilled to be the first to put the booze back into this all-American classic.

Please find our recipes below for the Three-O Root Beer Float and the Root Beer Floatini to use on this delicious day, and feel free to contact me for hi-res images or any more info.

Cheers!

Three-O Root Beer Float

2 oz. Three Olives Root Beer Vodka

4 oz. root beer

Float 1 scoop vanilla ice cream on top

Root Beer Floatini

1.5 oz. Three Olives Root Beer Vodka

.5 oz. Amaretto liqueur

Shake hard over ice & strain into glass

Float a melon-ball size scoop of vanilla ice cream in center

It also flies by when you are extremely busy, which is what I’ve been since getting back from Area 1 a couple weeks ago.

But today the decks are clear and we can turn our attention to press releases, especially the one about “a unique new product called the Rock Box Propane Tank Cover that helps solve a common problem in yards across the nation.”

Now I’ve never thought of propane tanks as things of beauty. But I don’t think they’re ugly either. “Utilitarian” is the word that comes to mind. Maybe at best they look like a giant Tylenol capsule, being painted white and all.

But somebody thought they should be disguised and thus we have the Rock Box Propane Tank Cover.

Or, to quote from the press release:

“It’s an innovative new product that provides homeowners with an aesthetic and permanent solution to the problem of unsightly above-ground propane tanks. The (cover) is a faux-rock cover that fits over standard 250-gallon propane tanks. (It) was conceived when the inventor was looking for a way to conceal an ugly tank from view in his front yard.”

All well and good, until you go to to this web site and see what the thing looks like.

I’m not sure what other people might call the Rock Box Propane Tank Cover, but “aesthetic” doesn’t come to mind (or at least to my mind anyway). Actually, the words “really ugly stone coffin propped up on bricks” were my first reaction. The second was “naked propane tanks really aren’t that bad after all.”

But maybe I’m being uncharitable. Perhaps the landscaper was just having a bad day when they set this thing up. Or maybe the lawn gnomes and pink flamingos hadn’t arrived yet. Yeah, that’s it. I’ll bet the Rock Box really rocks once a few gnomes and plastic flamingos surround its rugged faux-rock exterior. And just think, shove the lid back and prop the upper half of a papier-mache mummy in there and you’ll have a great Halloween decoration!

The Rock Box people can thank me later…

This is an annual tournament for United States Practical Pistol Shooting Association members who live in Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Alaska, Nevada, Colorado, Montana and Wyoming. This is the fourth one of these events I’ve gone to since 2006 when I attended my first one in Sherwood, Ore.

(For the record, the USPSA divides the country into eight areas, each of which has its own area match. There’s also national and international tournaments.)

Going to an Area 1 match has always been something I go face with a little apprehension. Club matches are one thing. It’s quite another to be in the mix with 300 other shooters, some of who are among the top practical shots in the U.S. This can be a bit intimidating.

And then there’s the infamous Polish Plate Rack.

This is a moving target designed by the Antichrist. It showed up at last year’s Area 1 and again this year. It consists of eight steel plates mounted on a cross-beam that starts spinning when you knock the first plate off. (To see one in action, go here.) There are a lot of words to describe trying to shoot one, none of which are printable.

But this year I did OK, even against the PPR. There were a few factors that helped. The weather in Idaho Falls (where this year’s match was held) stayed cool. And thanks to a lot of practice I went in feeling better prepared than ever. A bunch of shooters who should have shot better than I apparently didn’t and, finally, I cheated.

Well, sort of cheated. Usually when a course of fire has a moving target, it’s standard practice for the instructions to say “all moving targets MUST BE ACTIVATED before being engaged,” meaning you can’t shoot the beggar until you shoot the trigger that gets it going.

But, for whatever reason, the course featuring the PPR didn’t have those magic words in the instructions. Which means that shooters (including me) who didn’t feel confident trying to bust steel plates whizzing around in a 360-degree circle could just shoot the darn thing while it was stationary, THEN knock out the prop holding it steady.

It’s nice to know that after all these years of shooting practical, I have finally learned how to do something right. Such as when you can game a stage, do it.

The N.Y. Daily News started a three-part series Sunday on “Guns of New York,” which is about “New York’s struggle against illegal weapons.” (You can read the first part of the series here.)

It is no surprise New York City has a lot of illegal guns. The city is famous (or infamous) for its strict gun control laws, especially in regards to pistols. Since these are highly desired by a certain segment of the city’s population, this fuels a a flourishing trade in weapons acquired elsewhere (legally or by other means) and brought in for sale at a nice markup.

This is, of course, illegal. But as Al Capone (a well-known Chicago businessman) once observed, anytime you have a commodity you can buy at one place and sell for a hefty profit somewhere else “this is a proposition that’s gonna attract a lot of bright boys.”

What was surprising (to me anyway) was the accompanying chart of the guns “recovered” (presumably meaning seized) most often by the NYPD last year.

Just at a guess, I would have said the “most-recovered” gun would be the ever-popular Glock,  favored by cops, gangsters and at least one ex-NFL running back.

But, no.

According to the NYPD the number one illegal gun seized in the city was the good, old-fashioned snub-nosed Smith & Wesson .38 revolver (225 total). The Glock didn’t even come close, clocking in at number 7 in the NYPD’s hit parade with 94 seized.

And when I say “old-fashioned” I mean it. Smith & Wesson brought out the .38 Special in 1899. OK, granted, the 9mm wasn’t far behind, developed in 1902, but the first Glocks, all the rage these days as being the cutting-edge polymer pistol (never mind the H&K VP70), didn’t come on the market until 1983 or thereabouts.

(A minor quibble. The chart was specific about the pistol in question being a S&W .38 snub-nose wheelgun, but I question if all 225 of those were actually trademarked S&W revolvers or just handguns chambered for the .38 S&W Special cartridge, of which there are more than plenty.)

Number two (at 157 pieces seized) was the Hi Point 9mm, a pistol which has a low price and, in my understanding, an equally low reputation in the gun world. You get what you pay for.

So, if this is correct, despite the fame attached to Mr. Glock’s product, the top pick on the big city’s mean streets is a century-plus old design firing an equally old-school cartridge.

Like I said, interesting (in a gun geek sort of way).

Everyone has heard about the six-story statue of Jesus in Ohio, right?

You know, the one that was known as the “Touchdown Jesus” because it had both arms raised like a referee signaling a score?

And you know that was struck by lightning and burned to the ground the other day?
(If you didn’t, you can read about it here.)
So Barbara Metzger, a former U-B reporter, went on her Facebook page and offered a prize to any of her friends who could come up with the best comment. A co-worker passed them along and if you think I’m not going share some of the better ones, think again.

So, here we go:
“Score! Touchdown!”
“The lead in the Washington Post was pretty good: `It appears God has sacrificed his only son. Again.’”
“So will they rebuild the statue or just wait three days for it to rise again?”
“I said burning bush, not burning bust!”
“Drop kick me Jesus/Through the goalposts of life.”
“Holy Me, Dad, what did you do!?” “Sorry, son, I was aiming for the rest of Ohio.”
“Mama said there would be days like this.”
“Burnt offerings.”
“JESUS CHRIST, I told you to keep your arms down! You look like a lightning rod!”
“And God said, `I wasn’t kidding when I said no other gods before me.’”
“This is my final answer, `Sure beats crucifiction.’”
Now excuse me, I think it’s time to duck into the bunker.

It is hard to describe the joy of listening to brain cells die during extended discussions of budget amendments, longitudinal cracks in asphalt, root intrusions into sewer mains, concerns over transitional funding for developmental disability students and projected stormwater assessment fees.

That really isn’t too bad. What can drive a person round the bend are the discussions which veer off the track and into the infield, then veer into the outfield and then wind up in the stands or maybe even the parking lot.

At these times, I often fantasize about how things went back in the Old West when journalists such as Doc Holliday or John Wesley Hardin had to cover meetings and somebody got too long-winded.

 I visualize Dr. H or JWH dragging out a trusty “Hawg Leg” and, after laying it on the press table with an attention-getting thump, saying “Gentlemen, Mr. Colt here is getting rather impatient. He would suggest in the strongest terms you move along with alacrity.”

(Well, OK, neither to my knowledge never covered any government meetings. But I said this was a fantasy, didn’t I?)

Anyway, here’s the quotes of the day from various officials, who shall remain nameless:

“I just take my lumps and pass them on.”

“”We’ve operated this system by years of neglect.”

“This is one of the better chances we have for cloud computation.”

“Anytime you have something that makes a living by shaking itself, it’s not going to last too long.”

That last was in reference to the purchase of a new vibratory roller, which despite the suggestive name is in fact a large piece of road maintenance equipment.

Who said covering government meetings wasn’t sexy?