[Boatanchors] Possible HCI Net On Sunday

[Duane Fischer, W8DBF]

All vintage gear is always welcome - modern too, just lie about the
manufacturer! 	
	
I was rudely awakened at 1:30 AM EDT by a horrendous racket that sounded like a
herd of Elephants tap dancing on my kitchen linoleum floor. I did not smell any
peanuts in the air, so I knew it had to be something else. I listened by the
back door and heard something banging on my metal and plastic trash can lids.
Then I remembered the Opossum that had been seen there several weeks back. I
switched on the back yard floodlights, opened the door and shouted at the rhythm
deprived creature to get out of Dodge. I slammed the steel door rather violently
and went back to the recliner.	
	
I had no more than fallen asleep and the Opossum decided to dance some more jigs
on the lids in the hope of charming them off for a snack. Stupid thing did not
know the trash truck had already come and taken the garbage away. So up I got
again, grabbed a .22 caliber semi-automatic and charged out the back door like I
was headed up Pork Chop Hill. I emptied the clip in the direction of the
Opossum. Did not know if I hit him/her or not, but definitely knew I now owned
thirty gallon metal trash cans with drainage holes in them! Twang!   Shut the
door and went back to the recliner. It was now 2:29 AM.	
	
Crash! Bang! Darn near had to change my Fruit of The Loom briefs as I leaped out
of the recliner like a Kangaroo that got goosed with an electric cattle prod!
The Opossum had climbed up my forty foot tower for the six meter vertical, which
is five feet farther east than the trash cans. It kept climbing up and diving
down. Crash! Bang! Back up it went and back down it came. How stupid can one
Opossum possibly be? The blasted can was empty, other than rancid fumes from
dead food. It was determined to get that lid off. So I decided to help it.	
	
I got my Louisville Slugger, a pair of leather gloves and a piece of Italian
Salami. I took the metal lid off the can, as the Opossum growled angrily at me
from its perch on the tower over my head. Tossed the varmint attracting Salami
inside, left the lid off and stepped back a few steps. I was ready to hammer
that rodent into the left field seats as I waited for it to dive into the can
for its snack.    	
	
I did not have to wait long either. Down he/she went into the metal trash can.
Crash! Bang! I rushed forward and slammed the metal lid on and pulled the
locking handle into place. It would not suffocate, as I had already provided
plenty of breathing holes! I could hear it hissing and growling as I carried the
can over by the very old yellow Apple tree. Those neighbors do not yet speak
English and might just skin and grill this sucker for breakfast! I set the can
down, bid it a quick death and headed back to the house. The Opossum was not
happy, and not even Italian salami noted for giving people intestinal gas could
make it excited enough to scratch the sides of the metal trash can with its
claws with that kind of ferocity. At least I could now sleep, as it was far
enough away that I could not hear its temper tantrum.  	
	
Just about the time I got to the concrete sidewalk to go into the house, I 
discovered a thistle with the bare bottom of my left foot. I started to hop on
the right foot out of instinct, lost my balance, stumbled into the plant
watering collection bucket under the down spout, fell forward over the bicycle
my grandson insisted he had put in the shed and landed face down in the grass.
Was that the Opossum laughing?   	
	
This adventure in exercise had definitely done things to my lower back known
only to those who practice kinky sexual positions or a Circus contortionist. I
managed to crawl back into the house and into the recliner. It was now quiet and
I could sleep, if it were not for the pains shooting up and down my spinal
column like a barrage of misguided bottle rockets. 	
	
If I can get to the Ham Shack and pull myself up off the floor into the NCS
chair, there will be a Sunday HCI 20 meter Net. If not, and you like to eat
Opossum, I have one you can have for free! It is not in a  real good state of
mind, Italian Salami gives you breath that could kill a sewer Rat at a thousand
yards, intestinal gas that vaporizes underwear and makes you urinate like the
Mississippi overflowing her banks! So bring a tranquilizer dart to sedate it or
a sixteen ounce hammer to knock it senseless.	
	
Remember, the pre-Net starts at 12:45 PM EDT, (1645 UTC), the Net proper at 1:15
PM EDT, (1715 UTC) and the frequency is 14.293 Mhz usb +/- for key clicks, mike
splatter and the sound of an Opossum swearing in what sounds like Italian. No,
that is the new neighbors chattering excitedly about the fresh meat they just
found! Not sure what language that is, but I do believe I heard the English
phrase 'Taco Supreme'! 	
	
If I am not there, then one of you can be NCS. Enjoy! 	
	
Duane Fischer, W8DBF