"I'm so ugly I stuck my head out the window and got arrested for mooning." - Rodney Dangerfield

Consider the implications of this news from the State of Oregon:

• The state budget office estimated annual tax revenues for the current fiscal year from the sale of pot to be $8.4 million.
• They just revised that figure based on revenues for the first half of the fiscal year, now estimating that total revenue will be $35 million. Yes, four times the original amount.
• This increase comes despite the fact that the tax rate for pot dropped from 25% to 17%.
• Even that increased revenue won't do more than dent the current budget shortfall which stands at $1.8 billion. 

This is one screwed up state, and the inmates are running the assylum. (Yes, I know there's only one S in that word, but the misspelling seemed appropriate.) There is zero chance pot laws will be tightened, despite the fact traffic accidents due to pot impairment are up four times pre-legalization levels. Anything that brings in that kind of money to a legislature and governor committed to solving every social problem by writing a check will be protected regardless of its negative consequences. 

It's really nice to have sunrise coming earlier - now at 7 a.m. Not that we actually see the sunrise, 'cause it's overcast and almost always raining. 

I'm needing me some Vitamin D. I can feel the power of grump taking over. 

They say we may see the sun for a couple of hours Saturday. If it does emerge from the clouds I may go stand in the goat pen buck naked to soak up those rays. 

I learned at last Saturday's conference what I suspected all along: goats have really small brains. I'm convinced Stella is learning disabled even by goat standards, which in that world means she's pretty much as bright as a sack of hammers. And she's driving me crazy. 

On my way to bed last night I looked out and noticed that the Kia's parking lights were still on, 90 minutes after we'd come home from small group. I went out and tried every combination of actions I could think of to get them to go off, but without success. I finally got a 10 mm wrench and disconnected the battery. I do that each time I get somewhere, home or away, unless I know it's only for a minute or two. 

This is why I prefer old cars - none of those fancy "convenience" features that keep the lights on while you get into the house. They're not so convenient when the computer that makes them work goes on the fritz. You want the lights on in a '59 Chevy truck or a '66 Ford Mustang? Use the light switch. If you forget to turn them off you'll come back to a dead battery, but at least you'll know it was your fault, not Intel's. 

I have an 8:45 appointment at the KIA dealership tomorrow. Drat.

I continue to be baffled and bothered by the money and energy we spend exploring outer space, both with efforts like the space station and expensive and elaborate telescopes and the like. It's wonderful to learn new things about our universe and beyond, but I think of what those dollars could do here on terra firma. How many people could have clean water and the freedom from disease that comes with it if we used the millions (billions?) of dollars spent on the space station? Domestically we could sure make a difference in impoverished communities in places like Appalachia providing health care and better education.

You want to explore? Instead of finding new solar systems why not make work of learning more about our oceans, places that seemed to be filled with life forms we continue to stumble upon? There are remote ecosystems we know almost nothing about, both flora and fauna. 

If I got stopped for speeding in a sanctuary city I'd be pretty ticked about selective enforcement. 

The trucker and his wife/teammate might be employed slightly above their curve, but we got the Mustang here about 1 p.m. I'll spare you the details, but it required finding them (they got lost) and getting them to a church parking lot a couple miles from Baker Rd. where they could more easily unload it. Driving it from that point to our place was my first drive in it because it wasn't licensed or insured when I looked at it in WA. 

First impressions:

• The choke spring needs replacing, but we knew that and Rick already had one that's in the trunk ready for install. I'm also going to look into a conversion to a manual choke. 
• The battery needs replacing, but we knew that, too.
• The engine runs well, accelerates strongly, esp. for a 6 cyl., and sounds manly! thanks to the exhaust system Rick put on.
• I want to open up the brakes and take a look. There's a bit too much pedal travel for my taste, but that might be just a matter of adjustment.
• I'll take a good look at the steering system. I suspect it may need new tie rod ends and/or ball joints which would cause the loose (somewhat sloppy) handling. Both are very doable. 
  
• It's had at least one respray in something at least very close to the original, a color Ford called Candy Apple Red. The paint is cracked in some spots, faded everywhere, and there are a couple of minor dents. As you can see there's some damage up front that came from a teen driver's incident on an icy road. If all goes well I'll spend time this summer doing body work, including some replacement panels, and then get it sprayed by a paint shop in the original color.
• First up: get rid of that giant "Mustang" decal across the top of the windshield. It's the automotive equivalent of white sox with sandals - totally unacceptable. And I told Pam the wheels gotta go, too. There may have been a time when they were cool, but it was between 3:00 and 4:00 on a Monday afternoon in April 32 years ago. They'll get replaced by stock wheels and hubcaps. Classic look. 

I'll get some interior pics for tomorrow's post. But shortly after I took these it started to POUR and I hustled inside. I want to get the car completely done by next weekend, but that may be a bit unrealistic.