Hello everyone! This is Amy (from In the News) again,  with today's news bite. It left me so incredulous, I just had to "go live" on the blog. I feel safe sharing, since most people sit to use their computer. I don't anticipate too many injuries. 

Rob has received a  summons for jury duty.          Yes, really.
This falls under the categories of, "They can't realize who they've called",  and, "aren't computer generated picks ironic?"

Rob has done a LOT of fact-finding, detail-oriented questioning and investigative reporting in the last six months. And it's not over. He has become a self-educated journalist who has darn near been embedded in a war zone. Yes, I know there is no comparison between Dresden and Afghanistan.  It 's a war of a different caliber, pardon the pun. 

He may be one of the most thoroughly prepared jurors ever. He understands how to ask a question, where to look for reference material and what may or may not be a valid point. The guilty don't stand a chance.

 At the very least, he is more than positioned to write the modern day detective novel. He doesn't quite look like Erin Brokovich, but the mission is the same. (movie starring Julia Roberts released in 2000, based on a true story). 

I can already hear the private investigator's office phone in my head:
*Ring, Ring* "Ripple investigations, how can we make your day better?"
Anyone who has read Robert Parker can appreciate this. He's at the library if you're interested in a fun detective novel.

A life lived by a big river will give you some water wisdom and Rob says that if you mix clean water with dirty water, you don't end up with more clean water. I think the same goes with people.  Rob has been sorting wheat from chaff in the town for quite some time to get to that truth. I am a sci-fi X-files fan, and I believe in the show motto, "The Truth is Out There". The convoluted insidiousness of the self-aggrandized scheming that has been uncovered is staggering. Heck, I need bigger words to describe it clearly. The tendrils keep reaching out, to cover a fairly vast area of East Central Ohio. 

Stay tuned everyone. This party's just getting started. 
​Amy

The preceding explanation: I took a plea deal and one of the things that was stipulated was an  apology to Kurtis Rogers?!
There were no stipulations as to the content of the apology letter. I readily agreed. 

Forthwith:
For the past five months I have been interviewing people (probably about two dozen by now), who have
had exposure to officer Rogers on and off duty. I had a concern that he possibly suffered from some mental instability.

It is perhaps regrettable that I have made this belief public, thinking this should be a concern relating to the public safety. In retrospect, I probably should have continued to try to bring these concerns to the remaining village council members (three) that I had not talked to. 

While I stated my opinions were from a lay person, and I certainly am not qualified to make a professional judgment, the matter obviously should have been addressed by someone who is. 

While anyone who works in the public eye is subject to scrutiny, I understand that my being vocal about these concerns might have caused officer Rogers some emotional distress. This was not my intention and if this were the case, I am truly sorry. I certainly would not want to make any situation worse.

I hope officer Rogers has not suffered unduly from my public speculations. 

Robert K. Ripple

I wanted to pause from this whirlwind week and thank my self-organized campaign crew for all their diligent efforts brought to bear for my mayoral bid. Whether or not I end up with the office, I am proud to know each and every one of you. The signs were perfect!  Not just anyone would fish campaign signs out of a dumpster for a candidate.

I thank all the people who stopped to discuss issues on the street, at the Laundromat, or at the formal/informal town meetings that have happened. I hope I have given people something to think about.

I am giving my mother Lola Ripple,  a special thanks for her courage of being my first video interview. The support of my parents has been heart warming.
Thanks again,
Rob 

I had exchanged books with Allen, who owns the Inn in Dresden and somehow, due to the nature of what he was reading at the time, the subject of what you could hit with a service pistol came up. Allen had some little experience with a 1911 in the service and was not impressed with the possibilities. 
Thus having decided to add other topics to the website other than the dismal state of leadership in Dresden, I am going to take the suggestion of some of my friends and explore some of the things I have been teaching for years.
 I actually had a friend of mine, Jay Fritz, in mind when I designed this drill. Jay had asked me to a rifle match that had some service pistol stages, sort of a two gun match. It would appear that Jay and I were the only two non police people there. We also were the only two there with a military sling on our rifles, but that is another story. At any rate it became obvious that past 50 yards most of the people who carry a service pistol in uniform are not very likely to hit you anywhere. I designed what I call compulsory draws as a drill to establish what can be expected from a pro at extended ranges on man size targets with the common weapons of the time.

You will need the following: One 18 by 24 inch steel plate. Thirty rounds of ammo. And 100 yards to work in. The drill is shot on par time, which varies for range to target. You perform 6 draws from each of 5 ranges. Three facing the target, one pivot from 90 degrees to the right and one from the left, and one draw starting with your back to the target.
The par times are 2 ½ seconds at 20 yards, 3 from 40, 4 from 60, 5 from 80, and 6 seconds at 100 yards. Any shot after the par time is a loss hit or not. I designed this to be shot possible by a pro, actually to not just hit the target but shoot groups on it.
 Even a 45 shoots flat enough for this drill provided it is correctly zeroed, which beyond your ability to shoot up to the gun is one of the keys. My 1911 is zeroed with a 250 grain lead bullet at 800fps. It is 2 inches high at 15 yards, zeroed for elevation at about 60, and
8-10 inches low at 100. At high chest hold will take it all in clear to 100. The youtube video is titled compulsory draws with RK Ripple. We demonstrate the 60 yard stage to clarify how the drill is performed.
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I remember reading a short story in my not so misspent youth, about a guy who went out one day to buy a couch and came home with a Les Paul guitar. In much the same manner, once upon a time, I was invited to a poker game, and when I came home I owned an MG Midget.

If you are the sort who counts amongst your likes, (obsessions?), small British sports cars, this will all make sense .

Spridgets have been an obsession of mine from an early age. When I was in my early teens I had three different paper routes. On my morning route I had a customer who had a daughter who owned a chrome bumper Midget. The daughter was a real live adult who had an actual job and lived away. When she was home visiting, the little MG would be parked directly in front of the house in the quiet residential area her mom lived in. It looked very smart at O dark O’clock under the street lamp. That incredibly soft light an hour or so before dawn, the hour of the pearl, as Steinbeck called it. It was refrigerator white in stark contrast to its black top, and was the first MG of any kind I had ever laid eyes on. It was altogether the coolest vehicle ever. I would look furtively up and down the street, and pondering the utter stillness of the house the Midget belonged to, I would slip into the driver’s seat. I marveled at the Smith’s gauges with the chrome bezels, which were prominent and rich looking even in that light. I think I stopped short of making engine noises. I am sure I did not stop short of wondering what kind of incredible and unattainable female would own such a device. Oh my God, the possibilities. Such are the machinations in the mind of a thirteen year old male.

You could say that years before that fateful full house, I had it bad, and that ain’t good. The poker Midget was a ‘66, and was fairly complete, but something of a project. It was a pretty rough one at that. It served a great purpose by rekindling my interest in Midgets and educating me about them at the same time. I made it run again. The rebuilding of the carbs was the biggest part of the labor investment. After static timing was adjusted and valve clearances checked, it fired right up and fogged all the mosquitoes in the neighborhood into submission. After two or three hot / cold running cycles, the rings somewhat seated and it did not smoke so badly. It showed a white hot 20 lbs. of oil pressure at idle. It was tired. It had no brakes, so I drove it around in the yard to see if the rest of the drive train was working. It was all great fun, and seemed to amaze and entertain the neighbors.

Ultimately, I realized the tub was rusted beyond reason, and parted it out. This, of course, taught me even more. Later, I acquired another bare tub. It was a ‘73 round arch car, and I now had enough parts to build a Midget from scratch. I am clueless as to how this happens, but other fanatics have told me they have experienced the same phenomenon. Parts cars mysteriously find the way to your garage, Spridget bits rain on your backyard like manna from heaven. People like me, who are building one nice Midget, often end up with two or three parts cars. This makes their backyard look like a very small junkyard for very small cars. Parts of my house have been decorated in early British car parts. It improves the ambience of the place and gives you things to gaze at and dream about while you nurse a Guinness in the evening.

Eventually, reality set in, and I decided while I was prioritizing my various car and motorcycle projects, I wanted a Midget to drive. A runner that you can work on and improve while you are actually driving it perhaps makes more sense for a lot of folks. So this time around the dance floor I bought a car in, “documented running condition”. My present Midget is a ’72, and is in use as a (nearly) daily driver. During the two years I have had this one I have put about 15,000 miles on it. I drive it year ‘round, only avoiding winter roads with snow and /or salt on them. Believe me, if you own a Midget with a clean tub, you want to keep it that way.

This car had been in a flood, and I was able to purchase it very reasonably. Mechanically, it was in excellent shape. The main aftermath of the flood was that I had to redo the interior. It lived far away, which of course led to another adventure. My good friend Gary and I retrieved it with his truck and a car dolly. At one point, the horn had a loose wire and came on while we were towing it down the freeway. I think with its new-found speed and ambition, it wanted to pass us. So, from this perspective, I would like to tell you what it is like to buy and own a Midget, in the event you have thoughts of contracting this particular illness.

Working on Midgets / Sprites; a Midget by any other name is still an MG, but a Midget by any other name could be, well, your Dad’s (Granddad’s?) Rambler America…really. About the only substantial differences are the fact the Midget is a Roadster and it only weighs 1600 pounds. Almost any American compact or intermediate sedan my generation grew up in and crawling around under follows the same basic architecture. Forget about how quirky these things are supposed to be. Once you get past opening the hood, (oops, the bonnet), so you can turn the little valve that lets hot water get to where it will do some good, what you have is a tractor layout. It is a front engine, rear wheel drive car with leaf springs and a live axle in the rear. Any farm kid who has replaced the starter on the F-150 can easily figure out a Midget. If you have a complete set of American and metric wrenches you will not need a Whitworth anything.

Buying a Midget; Midgets are easy to buy, and to get parts for. They made a lot of them which came to this country for a lot of years. Anybody with a job can afford to buy some kind of runner, they were not terrible expensive cars to begin with, but they were not cheap. By that I mean although they were built to a price the materials used throughout were not shoddy by the standards of their day. The chassis is a very efficient monocoque (pronounced “Monaco”), which is the best and worst thing about them. They are very light and very stiff. They do not respond well to 40 years of neglect and rust. Unless you are good with sheet metal and know what you are doing I would steer clear of an example with a lot of rot. There are a lot of good examples out there, no need to take on a rust bucket.

Even the most rusted out car will have major suspension components or body parts that are useful. . Such cars have a very important role in this world. We call them organ donors. So overall, Midgets are cheap to acquire, decent runners, and generally vary in price between $2000 and $5000 dollars. Parts availability is simply not an issue, starting with the magazine you are presently holding in your hands.

And then we come to the end use, actually driving one. I hate to say this but the word that comes to mind is just delightful. Considering the vintage of car we are dealing with, one cannot find a lot of fault here. These cars were built in England as actual transportation and as such, they really are. The suspension actually suspends, the brakes actually brake, the 1275 A series engines in particular are very willing, and the transmissions snick through the gears like a proper box. Also, I myself am 6 feet tall and 210 pounds, and I fit in one just fine. Getting in and out is a mildly athletic event, but being in one is no problem unless you are somewhat bigger than I am. My 56” girlfriend tells me that long legs help with reaching the pedals.

Then of course, there is the issue of being seen in one. Everyone will want a ride, and seemingly half of the population of the earth will stop and look at your car when parked and proceed to tell you they owned one, knew somebody who did , or always wanted one . But the absolute over the top thing about owning a Midget is the small children, which will automatically wander aimlessly in the direction of any parked Spridget with the parents either trailing or being towed behind. From my years of observing this phenomenon, the little persons see this as a step up from the Barbie Ferrari, a real sports car that is (almost) my size. Maybe I could actually drive this thing…better than Disneyworld.

Really, no foolin’, wait until you let someone’s munchkin sit in the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel, grinning so hard you’re afraid their cheeks might crack. And then some of them, not all you know, but some of them, sometimes, they start making engine noises.

Such can be a life around Midgets. / R. K. Ripple