New Year's Eve

The Sneedlets were playing a spirited game of Candyland this morning when one Sneedlet was so stunned by an unexpected move, that he toppled over backward.



This morning Older Son Sneed and family came over for a visit. Son Sneed bought a new fancy convertible car and wanted to show it off. It is really nice and the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I took it for a quick spin around the neighborhood, with the top down. Moments like these make me think about getting a new car, but the old Sneed Family Junkster, still runs well and after six years of service has only 49,000 miles on it. Let's face it, I am just too cheap to buy a new car.

Sneedlet 1 and I spent some time this morning digging up some unwanted fountain grass in front of the house. It technically was on the neighbor's property and she was always talking about ripping it out, so Sneedlet and I dug it up so that I could include it in my trip to the dump.

For reason that only Sneedlet understood, he thought it was his job to use his tiny shovel to take tiny shovelfuls of dirt and dump them in the trash can. Since the can is much taller than he, the dirt wound up in the proximity of the can, rather than in it. He was none-the-less quite satisfied with his work. Sneedlets parents picked him up and I went to the dump to dispose of the junk. In all, it was a good day.

Just a few more hours and we can close the books on 2006, at least in our part of the world. Perhaps 2007 has already arrived where you are. The lovely Mrs. Sneed and I will pass the time quietly. She has a paper that she is working on for her school, so that will occupy her time. I plan to watch television, surf the internet and maybe read a book that I found in our cleaning yesterday.

This past year has been good to us on balance. My hope for each new year is that it will be just slightly better than the last. I have to say that 2006 met that criterion.

Our Sneedlets and their parents enjoyed good health, as did the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I. Younger Son Sneed's chronic health problems continued, but at least didn't get worse. In fact he made considerable progress toward completing another phase of his education, which is a big step for him. He is working toward becoming independent and free of the need to rely on his folks.

Financially we are doing well. Our jobs are steady and we have money to spend, save and give away. Years of saving and hard work are paying dividends for us, not giant dividends, but good ones.

This past year I made a personal decision to let the world take care of itself. I gave up TV news and political talk radio. It is liberating to not have to hold a political opinion. I have to tip my hat to the good folks at Apple for inventing the Ipod. It has really changed my life for the better by giving me access to material that I would never have found otherwise.

I made a commitment to blog each day and I mostly did so, even when people begged me to stop or left comments intimating that I am an idiot. I suppose it is not strictly an intimation when the comment begins, Hey idiot! Undeterred, I blogged on.

Anyway, tomorrow's another year and we will see how that works out for us.

Merle.















Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

What Goes Around, Comes Around

I hear Saddam Hussein is at the end of his rope with these endless legal proceedings. Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. Have you heard that there is a new Iraqi TV show called, Hanging with Hussein? Someone stop me. I thought he might get away, but they got the drop on him. I'm out of control. Enough already, I have a point here besides making tasteless jokes. I generally try to steer clear of these political things, but Saddam's execution has got me to thinking about his life and death and my feelings about capital punishment in general. Saddam Hussein was a member of an elite group of history's mass-murders, who had both the willingness and the resources to kill at a whim and in unimaginably large numbers. Like all serial killers, he deluded himself into the belief that his humanity ranked above that of his victims, that he was empowered to decide who would live and who would die. Those in the free nations of the world who toss the words tyrant or dictator around in describing our free-elected leaders, would do well to study the life of an actual tyrant. In a tryant's realm, citizens don't camp at the gates of his home shouting insults and holding court for fawing media. They suffer in silence and fear or risk disappearing into eternity. I am opposed to capital punishment, in principle, in fact I try not to kill anything, even bugs. I can't make one, so I don't feel right about killing one. You may believe differently and I am certainly okay with that. I can only speak for me. The idea of capital punishment is relatively easy to get on board with and it is understandable that many people support it. After all, its the old eye-for-an-eye thing and there is a certain symmetry to it. Plus, we generally get kind of ticked off about murders, so revenge is on our minds. Practically speaking though, I can't see the point of killing some killer. If we can keep these knuckleheads locked up forever then I prefer that approach. Most of the time our system keeps murders around so long that by the time they are actually executed, the crime is a distant memory. Oh, and it really barbaric, in my opinion anyway. I guess, since the tyrant had killed or ordered the killing of several hundred thousand people and since there was a sizable minority of the Iraqi people who would love to see him come back, his execution was an imperative for the majority of Iraqis. Once and for all, Saddam and his mob of heinous killers have been eliminated, and if that closes his legacy, then I guess his execution is a good thing. His death is undeniably good, however the means. In happier news, Sneedlet 1 is here for the night. I picked him up this morning and he helped me clean the garage. Mostly, he helped by dragging stuff around and finding new uses for ordinary household items. He also fixed his grandma's car with his Bob The Builder tool kit. Thank goodness for that, she needs the car for work next week. I also tried to take a twin bed to the Goodwill Store this morning. Younger Son Sneed built the bed from oak and it was really nice and very sturdy. He no longer needs the bed and wanted to get rid of it. The guy at the Goodwill said that they couldn't take it because beds don't sell well to thrift store shoppers. I think he was just too lazy to deal with it, because only thrift store shoppers buy used beds. When I got home a neighbor asked me if I bought a new bed. When I explained the situation, she asked if she could have it. We carried it into her house and all ended well. My truck is now loaded with the latest batch of crap that we just had to have and it will get dropped at the dump tomorrow since it is not salvagable. I hope we got our money's worth out of all that stuff. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Welcome and Not So Welcome Visitors

At 3:43 pm local time yesterday, the MerleSneed blog welcomed its 2000th visitor, our good friend from the continent of Australia. As always, my humble thanks to each of the several people who regularly check in, as well to the occasional or accidental visitor. When I first started blogging, I wondered if anyone ever read my inconsequential ramblings. When I discovered that I could add a site meter, I confirmed my suspicion that no one did. Each Monday the site meter people sent me an email, showing visits by date and time. It was always zeroes, not a visitor. Anyway, times have changed and now I can proudly boast about 8 to 10 visitors a day, not counting the lovely Mrs. Sneed or Daughter Sneed. The Sons Sneed are totally disinterested. Evidently, they have heard it all before, at least that's their story. So people are asking, "Merle, what's next?" The obvious answer, of course, is reaching our 3000th visitor. My strategy? One visitor at a time. That's how we dooz it here at the Sneed blog. I mean that's how we roll. Ya feel me? Gotta love the hip-hop. Man, I crack myself up. On a more serious front, I was checking my bank account online yesterday and I discovered a mystery debit withdrawal of $12.95 made by Icon Design Concepts in Orange City, Florida, on Christmas Day. Since I neither was in Orange City, nor made a purchase on that day, I was suspicious and my suspicions proved accurate. Icon Design Concepts of Orange City, Florida, USA, is a front for a thieving crook or thieving crooks in beautiful New Zealand. I called my bank and they said it was an electronic withdrawal, using my debit card number. Since it was processed as a charge, the aforementioned thieving crook or crooks apparently don't know the pin number. The bank gave me the phone number that was used as a reference for the transaction. When I called the number, it was an answering machine. The message said that no operators were available and to leave a message or contact them at support@iconconcepts.com. I left a message that I can't really post, and my email to them was returned as undeliverable by an internet carrier in New Zealand. The way this scheme works is that these people send nominal transactions through a bank account, as though they are real merchant, to see if it processes. If so, they hit you with a bigger one. I was lucky that I caught it and the bank stopped a possible larger transaction. The crooks also set up a bogus phone number connected to an answering machine, to lend credibility to their phony business front. The email address is to give credence to the chronically unanswered phone line. My bank was upfront in telling me that if I filed a police report and filled out a claim form with them they would replace the money. Since it is only $12.95, its not worth the bother of contacting the police and then picking up a report. If it was $1295 rest assured that I would be all over it. The bank has also shutdown my debit card for additional transactions, so I will be without a debit card for 7 to 10 days. That's a hassle. I guess I will need to pull my credit report too. Normally, I would be hopping mad about this, but what's the point? These are faceless scum that no one has the wherewithal, nor the inclination to catch. The loss here is only mine, because I choose to make it mine, rather than jumping through hoops for a buck or twelve. I suppose that eventually the banking industry will figure better ways to stop this sort of stuff from happening. I could dial 1-386-955-4388 and leave nasty voice mails, but no one at Icon Design Concepts of Orange City, Florida will hear it anyway, since they are probably in New Zealand, collecting their ill-gotten booty. I can tell you that the Orange City police aren't interested in checking out the phone number. Anyway, another good reason to have online banking and to check the activity each day, despite those who might think it is an obsessive practice. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

A Milestone Day, Perhaps

The MerleSneed blog world headquarters

(yes dear, it would have been nice to clean up my junk before I took the picture)


The excitement is building here at the MerleSneed blog headquarters. Sometime soon, possibly as early as today, the site will welcome its two thousandth visitor. I had an array of lovely gifts for the lucky visitor, but I accidentally ate them.

Today also begins the second five-day session of my vacation. The schedule, in case you have forgotten it, is vacation day, vacation day, vacation day, vacation day, vacation day, Kendall made me show up for work day, vacation day, vacation day, vacation day, vacation day, vacation day. Just to be real clear here, four of the days were technically weekend days and three were holidays, leaving only three actual vacation days, but you get the idea. Besides, any day away from the office is a vacation.

For those of you saying, "Shut up about the vacation already and get to the weather, will you?", there's this. It is raining and cold here. Late December is one of our traditionally wet weather periods. The damned global warming has jumbled the pattern lately, but for today, it is raining like a sum-of-a-bit**...you get the idea. Did I mention that it is also cold?

Yesterday, I went out an bought an new computer for the lovely Mrs. Sneed's new office. She has labored with a piece of crap Dell for a couple of years now and needed something that actually worked.

You might be saying, "Hey Merle, weren't you the guy who said a mere two days ago that he was troubled by all the copious consumption around your place?" Well, Mrs. Sneed made the same observation.

To that, I say this. Yes, that was me, but I was troubled by all the stuff that we bought and received that we didn't really need. We really, really needed the computer. See the difference? Jeez.

Anyway, since it is raining, I plan to move the printer and other assorted stuff affixed to the piece of crap Dell computer to the new office, so that Her Loveliness can compute in luxurious surroundings.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm a hell of a guy.

Merle.



Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

It Seemed Cool At The Time

In the midst of what should have been eleven consecutive days off, I found myself headed to work this morning. Due to an unexpected event a couple of weeks ago, my eleven days off became ten days off with a workday stuck in the middle. As you might recall, I tried to convince the boss to let me take an extra day off without pay, but he wouldn't go for it. My boss doesn't like to vary from the book. So I sat at my desk and worked on some stuff until about 2:30 pm today, when I bugged out. I was headed to the office this morning and when I was stopped at a light, a woman pulled up next to me in a fancy-schmancy new BMW. I was admiring the car and I got to thinking about how transient things are. The new is soon old and the rapid advance of technology makes the new old much sooner than it used to. A hundred years ago, more or less, the Wright brothers had the cutting edge technology in aviation. Now their creation is just a primitive artifact. People will someday see a picture of that fine automobile with the same thoughts that we have about the Wright brothers' plane. Even the aircraft of my boyhood half a century ago are relics now. I was born in 1950. There was a time when I was usually the youngest person in the room. Since the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I got married at 19 and daughter sneed was born when we were 20, our kids had parents who were younger than most. What happened? Now I am the oldest person in most situations. Times have changed. How much you might ask? Until I was about eight most families didn't have a TV. When we finally got one, it was black and white and I was the remote control. My old man would bellow, "See what's on 4", and up I would jump. We only had three channels and they went off the air after the ten o'clock news, but it was a marvel to us. My dad bought the first generation Polaroid camera in the late 1950's. It took instant pictures, if by instant you mean about 5 minutes of developing time. But this was a major leap from sending pictures out to be developed at the drugstore. Truly instant photos were decades away for the average Joe. My mom never drove a car or worked outside the home. My father never made more than $35,000 in a year in his life. When the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I got married, our rent was $65 per month and combined we made $129 per week, before taxes. My siblings and I stood in line to get polio shots and later oral vaccine. The eradication of polio stands as one of the great medical achievements of all time. A childhood killer tamed in a mighty swoop. Antibiotics were administered via a shot in the arm or the butt. I got strep throat and had to go to the doctor everyday for about a week to get a shot of penicillin. In 1963 I remember my dad predicting someone would invent a device to record TV so that it could be watched later. Fifteen years later, the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I got our first VCR. A couple of years later we got a microwave oven. And it wasn't because I was too cheap to get them sooner, I know what you're thinking. That's when they hit the market. In 1969 I worked for a major grocery store chain and the cashiers had to ring up every single item on a manual cash register. The stock guys had to stamp a price on every item in the store. Once a week we did price changes, where we had to erase all those prices and stamp new ones on items whose price had changed. Bar codes and scanners later made all that unnecessary. Now they are making cashiers unnecessary. Credit cards for the average shopper didn't exist until the 1970's. We couldn't imagine that anyone would charge things like groceries with a charge card. Everyone wrote checks and most people dealt in cash a lot. I know you think I'm kidding. In 1974 I bought a four-function, handheld calculator for about $100. Today it would sell for two or three bucks, but it changed the life of a guy taking freshman accounting and was a giant leap forward from a device called the ten-key adder. In the early 1970's eight-track tape players were all the rage, soon to be made obsolete by the cassette player, which in turn fell victim to the CD. The phonograph record went the way of the dodo bird. About that same time we got the first fax machine at work. It was called an LDX and it could only receive. The transmitter was a different unit and the bosses said we didn't need to send stuff anyway, so we didn't get one. It was about the same size as a refrigerator. I'm not making that up. I got my first personal computer in 1982. It was made by Timex and you had to write programs in the Basic language to make it do anything. It was a useless piece of crap, but seemed miraculous to me. About 1985 we got cable television here in our fair city and broke the stranglehold of the big three networks. The Bell system was dismantled and it unleashed the revolution in telecommunications. In the mid-1980's I got my first desktop computer. It had no hard-drive and everything had to be stored floppy disks. The monitor was available in black and white, black and green or black and orange. Color monitors were a thing of the future. The first modem that I ever used operated at 1200 baud. The really cool techies at work had 2400 baud modems. How slow is that? Think of a 56K dial-up modem and then slow it down to 5 percent of that speed. That's really slow, so slow in fact you couldn't use it for anything today, other than as a museum piece. Until the 1980's there was a strong answering service lobby that kept voice messaging service off your telephone. Pagers became the rage in the 1990's and the first cellphones, the size of bricks appeared in the middle 90's. Ten years later they are antiques. In about 1980 a fellow confidently told me that by 1985 all cars would come with CB radios as standard equipment. CBs died a quick death for the most part. Five years ago we bought a digital camera with a printer dock that let you print pictures at home. That was cutting-edge for about 3 or 4 months, before it became inefficient to do it that way, replaced by 5 better ideas. Anyway, I suppose sometime soon some older guy will explain to his kids that "back in the day" we listened to music on something called an Ipod, and poor folks didn't even have HDTV. Of course, back in the day, gets closer all the time. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Awash In A Sea Of Stuff

This is what I am talking about.




Man, I'm I glad that's over. The totality of Christmas kind of sneaks up behind me and punches me in the stomach, usually toward midnight Christmas Eve. All of the spending, shopping, wrapping and eating hits me.

I was sitting Christmas Eve as we opened our gifts from one another, thinking this is a bunch of stuff we could have lived without, bought with money that might have found better uses and was more than most people on the planet will ever have. It seemed way over the top, stuff-wise.

As an aside, the best Christmas of my growing-up life was 1966, when we lived in California. My folks had no cash to speak of and no ability to borrow any. I got some underwear, socks and a pair of jeans. Plus I got a box of chocolate-cover cherries. I remember my mother apologizing for the meagerness of our Christmas, but my folks were sober for the only Christmas I recall, that is, until they gave up drinking in the late 1970's. Sobriety beats stuff anyday.

Back to now. There is also the matter of the leftovers. It is a tradition at Casa Sneed that the lovely Mrs. Sneed goes overboard on the desserts. Consequently, we have a half of a big tiramisu, an entire giant pumpkin pie from Costco, a bunch of coconut macaroons, candy, eclairs and some other stuff clogging up the refrigerator. While I am trying my best to clear it out, I may not be up to the job, plus my vows to myself to lay off the food have proven worthless thus far.

Another item lurking around after Christmas is cardboard, lots of cardboard. We have mandatory recycling here in our fair city, at least as near mandatory as they can make it. Actually, the mandatory part is that you must pay for recycling pickup whether you use it or not. My recycling bin is overflowing and I have a giant box sitting in the front room, waiting for me to find a place for it. The garbage container is stuffed full, even fuller than me, and there are bags on the ground. This is insane. Not to minimize natural disasters, but it feels like we are digging out from a really bad storm.

None of this is to say that Christmas is empty or meaningless or even that it is lacking anything, quite the contrary. It is full of joy , seeing our children and grandchildren happy and sharing time together. Gifts and food are good, but they accentuate the day, they don't make it. Sometimes the former gets trod upon by the latter.

It seems to me that the purpose of life is to do the best you can with the life you have. For a couple of hicks from the wrong side of the tracks, the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I have done okay. Christmas is a good time to take stock of that.


Merle.





Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Christmas Day

Last evening we had a party with all of the children and their families. We ate terrific food from a place called El Charro Cafe, exchanged some gifts and had fun. About mid-week I started getting calls from Cletus, our wayward son, that he was going to drop by. In typical Cletus fashion, he repeatedly failed to show up. Then last night, just before our little get-together, he arrived with another man in tow. The second fellow, a middle-aged guy, has taken Cletus under his care, in an attempt to straighten him out. Kind of like the father he always wished he had. Cletus was clear-eyed and drug-free as nearly as we could tell. I wish him the best, I mean that. They stayed for a little bit, we chatted and then they were off. It was refreshing the neither the lovely Mrs. Sneed nor I had to yell at Cletus. The three remaining Sneed children and their families arrived and we spent some time chatting and reminiscing of Christmas's past. Some fun was poked at Merle Sneed, I have to say, especially when Older Son Sneed was asked to uncork some wine that his mother purchased for the occasion. It is important to understand that I don't drink alcohol, as a personal decision. Many a holiday was scarred by booze when I was a child, so I abstain. Son Sneed, despite being nearly 34 year-old was reluctant to open the wine for fear that his old man might be offended or critical. I asked him what sort of a judgemental a-hole he thought I was? His response was to ask if we could record the conversation for future reference. Daughter Sneed is one of these annoying people who remembers every little detail and bit of every conversation she ever hears. She can also recall what she was wearing when she heard it, but that's another story. As a result she is the champion gift-giver of the Sneed family. Everyone who opens a gift from her, asks how she knew to get that one thing. she answers with, "Last June you said to....and I thought...so I saw this and I had to buy it. Simple." We are pretty close to just giving her our money in January and telling her to get Christmas together for all of us. At least nothing would ever have to be returned or exchanged that way. The Sneedlets opened their gifts from their extended families and then retired to our bed to enjoy some new videos that they got. One hooligan or the other spilled his juice on my side of the bed, leaving me the option of (a) sleeping on the very edge of the bed or (b) sleeping on the couch. I chose (a). The Sneedlet's response? Sorry Grandpa. What can you do? This morning we are headed to Daughter Sneed's house to watch Sneedlet 1 open his gifts from Santa. Later they are coming here for dinner. Older Son Sneed has other family commitments with his in-laws. Today is developing as another day of stuffing myself and wishing I hadn't. Best Wishes. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

There's No Saint Merle, But There Ought To Be

The Sneedlet is staying with us until this evening. His dad is putting together something that he can't see just yet. He is shown here enjoying a cold juice box and watching 'kid's shows' from the comfort of his Thomas the Tank Engine bed.



This is the last of what I think we all hope will be my two-part (so far) rant about religious superstition. I wasn't intending for there to be a second part, after yesterday's rant, but it was forced upon me by lunacy, that I just can't ignore.

Here's a question. Which of the following statements is an actual superstitious practice, accepted by reasonably intelligent people, who can bath and feed themselves and hold regular jobs?

1. Clothes worn inside out will bring good luck.
2. A statute of St. Joseph buried upside down in your yard, accompanied by a prayer will cause your house to sell faster.

In our fair city, there are presently something like 9200 homes listed with the multiple listing service for sale. How bad is that you might ask? Well, there have never been even as many as 7000 homes listed prior to the current run up. In addition, the days that the average home remains for sale has increased to 60, another record.

The problem is that many people bought homes they couldn't afford, figuring that they could make a quick profit. Now they are desperate to sell. Plus, investor-types are dumping houses that they had hoped would bring them riches. Now that the market has slumped, they just want to get rid of them and are flooding the market.

So, what is the beleaguered homeowner to do? Fix up the house, cut the price, offer incentives? Sure, that all makes good sense. But what can a seller do to get that little extra push in their quest to sell? Why bury a statue of Saint Joseph, upside down in the yard, of course. Its just common sense. In fact, it makes so much sense that The Our Fair City Association of Realtors, is selling the statues for $5.75. Isn't there some constitutional separation of church and real estate? If not, its time.

Anyway, this is the drill, as quoted from an article in The Arizona Daily Star, Sunday edition, by it's writer, Joseph Barrios.

To help sell houses, agents and owners are buying statues of St. Joseph, and burying them upside down in the front yard. If you do that, the belief goes, and if you recite a prayer to the patron saint of carpenters and families, you will find a buyer for your home.

For those of you who doubt the validity of this practice, I offer what passes for proof of its effectiveness, to the gullible at least.

From a veteran real estate agent, "...in a market like this, you do what you have to. Paint the outside. Install new carpet. Pay half of closing costs.
But maybe that little plastic statue will be just the something extra you need," said Agent X, a Realtor with Tierra Antigua Realty. So, St. Joe will put you over the top, just don't try to get him on board with a dump. Fix that sucker up before you try to sell. After all, old St. Joe has a rep to protect.

Another agent added an important strategic point. "I wait until they're really, really, really distressed and not moving. In a market like this, it's too tempting to use it too early," said Agent Y, with Long Realty. Is he kidding me?

Later Agent Y added, "You can't go out and sell a $200,000 home for $300,000 and expect it to sell," Trudeau said. "The ones that I did it with, they were not bad locations. They weren't backed up to a big manufacturing company with big smokestacks sticking out. They weren't bad houses, they just weren't moving." So, important point two is St. Joe isn't up for jacking-up-the price and laying it on him to fix.

How, you might wonder, does our local Catholic church feel about this practice? A spokesman for the diocese pointed out that there is a fine line between spirituality and superstition. Candles, medal, pictures, while not holy, connect the faithful to their religion. He isn't really buying the old St. Joe in the real estate biz. I guess I don't get why lighting a candle for an intention is materially different than burying a hunk of plastic in your yard. I may be a cynic, but I'm betting that if the church had a real estate sales division, this would be viewed with a more sympathetic eye.

A deacon at a local church, also called St. Joseph's, said that while he wouldn't do it (bury the statue), anything that connects people to God, is a good thing. I would add, if you can sell a house in the process, so much the better.

I have to say that I remain unconvinced. The tried and true formula for selling a house has three components, location, condition and price. St. Joe can't help with any of them, not that I am conceding the existence of Saint Anybody.

So, back to the question. Which superstition is believed by otherwise reasonable people? Of course, both are. It is just that if you go out wearing clothes inside out, people will think you are crazy. Bury a religious statue? People will say, "It's not my belief, but it may work for them." Religion gives cover to a lot of nonsense.

Crazy is crazy.

Merle.

All quotes in this post were reported by Joseph Barrios and are property of the Arizona Daily Star. Merle Sneed sincerely hopes this doesn't violate some copyright deal.






Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Want Soup With That Sandwich?

Diane Duyser holding her miracle grilled cheese sandwich. She credits the sandwich, which she says has the image of the Virgin Mary on it, with bringing her good luck at a casino. What else would the Virgin Mary want for the faithful but good luck gambling? Although I have never seen a photo of her, I rather think it looks like Emily Bronte, judging from illustrations of the day.

You'll have to judge for yourself.

Additionally, Mrs. Duyer, says the sandwich has remained intact for ten years with no preservation measures. The most miraculous part of the story is that some lunkheads gave her $28,000 for it.

Maybe its just me, but I think if you are hustling religious icons, the black lipstick, blond fright wig is not the best look. Or perhaps it is.

I wonder why it is our nature to believe in supernatural stuff? Some people are very invested in the idea of UFOs, ghosts and all sorts of paranormal stuff. Some folks are convinced that exotic sounding Chinese herbs can cure what modern medicine can't. Many people have religious superstitions. Lots of us prefer to believe the fantastic over the simple.

I was reading this morning about a Virgin Mary sighting in Las Vegas. This happens all the time, as you no doubt know. It seems a fellow noticed a stain on a retaining wall at his house that looked to him like an image of Mary, or at least what he thought Mary looks like based upon historical works of art. Isn't it amazing that the apparitions always look like those depicted by Renaissance artists?

As is the custom in these cases, the faithful swear its her, the skeptics are skeptical and some people are on the fence. In this case, the homeowner and rational investigators have pronounced it salt leaching from the blocks used to construct the wall. True believers are quick to point out that the Queen of Heaven could appear in any fashion, even salt residue and are unmoved by the finding. Oh, well.

The commonality of the Virgin Mary sightings is that they invariably fall into one of two categories. They are either the uncorroborated eye witness testimony of a single person, such as in the purported appearances at Lourdes and Guadalupe, or they are images that could be seen as the Virgin Mary if you believe they are and stand at the right angle, in the right light. Neither is proof of anything.

I always ask myself why wouldn't a supernatural being, if such a thing existed, leave some proof, if it were trying to make itself known? Appear to a bunch of folks or appear where you can be taped, if you want to be taken seriously. Of course the answer is that these things are the product of what we wish to be true.

For example, the parents of funny looking kids don't see them as funny looking. They see them as beautiful. I look in the mirror and see a guy who looks pretty good for his age, others might have a more realistic view. We look for confirming evidence of what we want to be true or already believe.

There was a case in Texas recently where water began to shoot from a tree like a water fountain. Many people thought it was a miracle and lined up to pray, gives thanks or merely gawk. Some filled bottles with this "holy water". Close investigation found a broken line water beneath the tree. Water had found a channel in the trunk of the tree, acting as a natural water pipe. It also turned out that the water coming from the tree had a high level of contaminants, so bottling the water was a bad idea.

In the history of mankind there has been no scientifically verified supernatural event, so I would hold off on jumping to belief in these things. But that's just me.

In other news, the lovely Mrs. Sneed, Sneddlet and I had to go to the mall this afternoon. It was mayhem. Sneedlet is a little sick with a cold, so while Mrs. Sneed was in a store, we sat on the floor leaning against the wall. In that position I get a butt-level view of the world passing by. That's not the angle you want to have, believe you me.

Merle.







Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

I took this picture on my way to Hootenany Holler today. I think the cave looks interesting.


Sadie the Wonder Mutt is at her new home. Its a farm in Iowa, where she will have other dogs to play with, room to run free and children that will love her. Wait, that's where my mother said she took my German Shepard, Missy, when she really took her to the pound to be euthanized. I get confused.

No, Sadie is at one of my favorites places. Its a little place I like to think of as somewhere else. Actually, my coworker took her. She had two beagles and her 10 year-old dog died, leaving a grieving companion. Sadie will be its new pal. I didn't so much rid my self of a lot of bother, as I contributed to the cause of animal welfare. I'm a hell of a guy, come to think of it.

The lovely Mrs. Sneed and I have an unfortuate situation, grandchild speaking. Our adopted son, Cletus, is a bum. His girlfriend is also a bum, just not quite so much as Cletus. Together they have three little girls that we rarely see. In fact we haven't seen the older two since last Christmas I think, and I have never seen the one year-old, that I recall. Mrs. Sneed saw her because she was born at the same hospital where the lovely Mrs. Sneed works.

The children live with their maternal grandparents not exactly in the middle of nowhere, but you can definitely see the middle of nowhere from their house. Since we really don't know the maternal grandparents, we couldn't really come knocking at their door, even if we were inclined to. The little girls are more like the children of a former neighbor that you might send a card to on special occasions than grandchildren. Plus it is not wise to become attached to them because they might vanish at any moment and we have had our share of heartache already. So we keep our distance. Even when they lived with mom and dad we rarely saw them, except when the parents used them as bait to get money from us.

This morning the lovely Mrs. Sneed gathered up the gifts for the girls from us and their aunt and uncle and I set out to deliver them to their home out in the desert somewhere. I called last evening to see if today would be okay for the delivery today and I was assured that it was. Be here all day, not a problem, come on out anytime.

Needless to say, in typical Sneed fashion, there was no one home. This isn't a place where you can just head home and come back later. It is an hour or so from here, down the interstate, turn left, turn left, go straight for 15 miles, turn left on the dirt road, right on the next one, third trailer on the left.

I rang their bell about ten times, called their number and I could hear the phone ring, but no one answered. So I left the gifts in their shed and hoped it would work out. Throughout the day I called a dozen times with no answer. So much for the home all day story.

I just got off the phone with the grandfather and they just got home. No explanation, on apology, no we forgot, no nothing. Perhaps you see why we have this arm's-length relationship.

Merle.





Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Giving

I was thinking about giving today for a couple of reasons and the holiday season wasn't really either of them. Specifically, I was thinking about the strings we attach to our giving to others. My friend at work was pissed off because a guy in front of the WalMart approached her with a story about a pregnant wife and no food and no job and loads of trouble. He asked her if she could help him out. She dug around in her purse and gave him a ten, in the spirit of Christmas. She felt pretty good about it, that is until she ran into Herbert, the WalMart greeter. Herbert asked her if she had given that guy money and when she said yes, he told her the guy was a con man, probably a druggie too. She came back to the office fuming that the guy lied to her and vowing to never give a panhandler any money ever again. That seems like an overreaction to me and makes me suspect that she has more going on than being angy that a panhandler got over on her. Whatever the motive of the needy fellow, her intention in giving remains pure and completely intact, unless she wasn't giving as much as buying some power over someone else. What occurs to me and something I've always tried to practice, is the understanding that if I make the decision to give someone money, it is out of my control once the money leaves my hand. I made the decision to give. What they do with it is on them. All I can do is hope that it finds a good use and it does me no good to be angry about it if it doesn't, Also, I was listening to the Dave Ramsey show and he was having a "theme hour" where he only took calls about people's giving experiences. People called in to share how they gave to others. One woman handed out cash to strangers who looked as though they needed some. Another woman paid for someone's gasoline. Someone else took flowers to people in nursing homes. These were all fine acts of kindness by decent people. It also creeped me out. I really get uneasy when someone who does something nice or gives money to others feels like they have to tell people about it. This is just one of my many quirks. I think giving ought to be done without fanfare and without expecting recognition for it. Is this giving or is it buying the right to impress others with your generousity? Hmm. Years ago I remember reading in the newspaper about a good-works type group at a church, here in our fair city, that called themselves, Those Who Care. Perhaps that makes the rest of us Those Who Don't. It rubbed me wrong to hear that and I would have been embarrassed to belong to their group. Perhaps that is my ego trip, who knows? Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

A Day Off Fell From The Heavens

I consider myself to be the world's foremost expert on an important work-related topic. I am the man to see for avoiding work and work-avoidance related matters. Imagine my surprise today to learn that I missed something important. I was sitting in my cubicle this morning and one of the contract employees came in to see me. She wanted to know if I would be coming into the office on Friday. The contract employees are not allowed to work in the office unless there is a regular employee present. Evidently, someone thinks they might steal the furniture unless someone has a eye on them. As an aside, I would be the last guy to put in charge of watching the contractors, because I basically trust everyone, so they could carry out my desk and I would never suspect them. I might not notice the missing desk until I leaned back and put my feet up, only to find them in mid-air. Anyway, I told this person that I would be in Friday, because I'm down to three days off for this year and I have them scheduled for next week. She looked at kind of puzzled and said, "Friday's a holiday." To which I confidently replied, "Are you nuts?" Well it turns out that Friday is a holiday for us because Christmas Eve falls on the weekend. I was delighted and flabbergasted at the same time. This is the greatest Christmas gift I can imagine. It is disconcerting to me though, because me missing a holiday from work is like the pilot of your flight asking over the PA system if anyone knows how to start the plane, or your surgeon looking down at you on the operating table and asking which implement is a scalpel. It just doesn't happen. I was also thinking today about how I used to feel about Christmas when I was a kid. When I was young I would look forward to Christmas and two weeks off school. Then I would have a big letdown when it was over. I still feel this way. Once the holiday season is over, the tedium of the work routine will resume in earnest. I dread returning after the first of the year. From Thanksgiving through the New Year's holiday, the opportunities to screw off both at work and away from work are plentiful. Many of my customers take extended time off, so I don't get many phone calls. I have errands to run and things to do. Plus, the way our time off policy works I always have a bunch of time off remaining that has to be taken. My company doesn't let us accrue time off, so it is use it or lose it. So I use it. I may have posted this before, but several years ago, I had a boss who really took the job seriously. She felt as though she made a real difference. I got to November with all of my time off allotment remaining because of a project that I had been working on all year. I called her to tell her that I would be off from Thanksgiving through the New Year. She intimated that I give back some of the time because she always gives back two weeks a year. Isn't that special? Anyway,this is truly the most wonderful time of the year, work-avoidance speaking anyway. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

A Bunch Of Disconnected Thoughts

The lovley Mrs. Sneed loves to have an Amaryllis at Christmas. This is this year's model. Pretty nice, if you ask me.






I confess that I ate enough candy today to satisfy 10 normal people for a month. There must be a 12-step program for fools like me. Hello, I'm Merle and I like candy. I need a higher power to dope-slap me and make me stop. If only I believed in a higher power (other than the lovely Mrs. Sneed, of course). But regretfully its up to me to rein me in and after 56 years, I still haven't mastered that skill.

And then there's this. I've posted this before but road to financial stagnation, seems to include trips to WalMart in a taxicab. I have seen many people who take a cab to WalMart, but I saw a new variation on the theme today. This seemingly working-poor couple pulled up to the WalMart as I passed by this afternoon, got out, told the cabbie to wait and went inside to shop. The cabbie was still waiting when I went past again about 15 minutes later. What could they need at WalMart that would warrant having a cab standing by? No wonder the he little man can't get ahead, the little man is a dope.

Perhaps this seems obvious to you, but it is well established that the frequency of smoking is inversely related to income. So, everytime we up the cigarette tax, it increases the tax burden of the poor. This is why the government doesn't outlaw smokes, the tax revenue is too high. I figure it conservatively costs a person $1800 per year to smoke a pack a day. That would go a long way toward lifting them out of poverty.

I'm also reminded about a story in this morning's paper about how poor parents in our state can't afford daycare, since the state hasn't raised their subsidies to keep up with inflation. Some people pay as little as a dollar a day per kid and are complaining to the newspaper that they can't pay any more, including one woman who just can't go that extra buck a day she is faced with since her daycare center raised their rates. Wanna bet she that has a cell phone? I don't know how to respond to that line of thinking. There is no shortage of people telling us taxpayers that we need to do better.

Different subject. I asked my boss Kendall to let me take a day off next week without pay. He said no, which surprised me. My coworker is still off without pay to attend to her son, so I don't know why he would say no, but he did. Probably because he can. I have three days of time off remaining and next week has four workdays in it. I really hate to drive in to work for just one day. As a matter of fact the only things worse than driving in for one day, is driving in for two.

But wait, there's more! This evening the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I went to Target to pick up some stuff. We noticed that the grocery store next door was to be surrounded by cop cars. Of course I had to go over to see if I could help. People were walking in and out of the store like nothing was wrong, so I went in too.

The bank inside the store was wrapped in yellow crime scene tape and was being attended to by 10 cops. The employees of the bank were trapped behind the counters and milling around, looking bored. I wandered over to a grocery store employee standing 4 feet from the tape and asked her what was up. She said she didn't know. Sure. I know it was a robbery, but I need details, do you hear me, details!

At last, the end is here. Sadie the Wonder Mutt is going to a new home. She was supposed to be a companion dog for younger son Sneed, but that didn't work out and her care and attending has fallen to yours truly. I frankly don't have the interest or the time to properly care for a dog, especially one as active as Sadie. My friend has Beagles and would like to have her, so sometime between now and the weekend I will be dropping her off at her new home where she will enjoy the company of another of her breed.

The lovely Mrs. Sneed has proclaimed Casa Sneed to be a pet-free zone. Here's hoping it remains that way for year's to come.

Merle


Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Best Buy, ugh!

Best Buy, the giant retailer, is engaged in a program to stop customers from figuring out how to beat the system and score good stuff cheap and to focus on what they have identified as ideal customers. What they have done is put draconian procedures in place sure to piss me off. The lovely Mrs. Sneed has been wishing for a flat panel TV for the bedroom, one that can be mounted on the wall. This would eliminate a giant piece of furniture that hold the current TV. The current TV is a huge black box, weighing so much that it could anchor a large ship. I nearly maimed myself hauling it to Goodwill yesterday. Being the terrific fellow that I am, I hustled to the Best Buy store near my work and bought a 40" Samsung HD LCD set. The salesperson who sold it to me was knowledgeable and very attentive, ushering me from place to place with a dazzling array of stuff that I need to fully appreciate my soon-to-be new set. She was oh so helpful, that is, until I paid. Only then did I learn that she had a short-term memory problem, at least with respect to me. She told me that she was going back to the warehouse to tag a set with my name so that I could come back after work to pick it up. She also said that she had just been back there for another customer and there were 5 units of the model I needed. After work I went back to get it. As I walked into the store, my salesperson came out. I greeted her and said, "I'm comng for my TV set." She look at me, trying to figure out ho I was and finally asked me what set I was getting. When I reminded her, she said that she was just going to call me, because all three of the sets that they had on hand had been sold and that mine would not be in the store until Saturday, the 16th. What happened to the story about five sets? On Saturday I called the store to confirm that my set was in. It was, so the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I went over after lunch. After some discussion we decided that the 40" set was too big, so I went and found the same salesperson who sold it to me to so that we could change to a smaller version. She had no recollection of having sold it to me, or the discussion we had in front of the store about when it would be in. She did concede that my face looked familiar, but she chuckled, I see a lot of customers. We decided on a smaller set, she got it from the back room but when they tried to cancel the old order and ring up the new, the system told them that I had already picked it up. The cashier, the saleperson and the manager all asked me if I was sure I didn't have the set. I was pretty sure. This necessitated a box-to-box search of the warehouse to find the box with my name on it. This was the only way that they would believe that I hadn't already picked up the set. These darn shifty eyes always do me in. Included in our purchase was a high definition DirecTV receiver, which was to be shipped to our house by the 18th, today. When I got home tonight, the UPS man had left a box on the porch. Rather than being the receiver, it was another TV set. Not the really good flat panel set that I had purchased, but another set none the less. I must admit that at this point, had it been the same as the one I bought, I would have kept it and my mouth shut. But since it was a cheap set, I figured I better call them. I called the 800 number on my order form and was told that they could have UPS pick it up, but that it would result in an internal investigation as to how the TV was shipped rather than the DirecTV box and that this would hold up the order for some time. Their advice was to take the TV to the store and let them figure it out. Tonight my younger son and I did just that. This resulted in the return clerk, the head return clerk, the operations lead (whatever that is) and the store manager all standing around scratching their collective heads and trying to figure out what to do. Eventually, they said they reordered the receiver and they took the errant TV set, but I'm sure they will screw up again before this is done. I will soon be at the store trying to prove to them that I didn't get my receiver. Jackasses, the bane of my existence. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Sunday, how about a little preaching?

Okay, here's something really annoying, at least to me. Credit is a big industry. How's that for pointing out the obvious? As a matter of fact, credit is often times the major product being sold by a store. Dave Ramsey says that Sears makes more profit on credit cards than on merchandise. They are really just a big loan company with some stuff for sale too. Since Sears sold off its Discover Card business, this may no longer be true, but you get the idea. I was reading this morning about how the three major credit reporting agencies have started their own credit score to compete with the FICO score that we've all become accustomed to. When you buy a report showing your credit score, it seems that you get their score, not the FICO. Plus what you get is inflated because they use a maximum score of 990, while FICO uses 850 as their maximum. I get irritated by these articles for a couple of reasons. One, I resent the idea that credit is a consumer product at all. The article pointed out that having a low credit score means that you have to pay higher rates on your credit cards. Well, no you don't, if you don't carry a balance. I haven't paid interest to a credit card company for years and years and the next time I do will be never. The second thing that irritated me was the contention that a lower credit score means that you might have to pay higher interest for a mortgage. My take is that if someone tried to sell me that bill of goods I would walk away. But what about borrowers with less than good credit, shouldn't they pay higher rates? I guess in theory they should, but the reality as I see it, is that they shouldn't be getting a mortgage if their credit is bad, and the mortgage idiots shouldn't be taking advantage of them by sticking them with high rate loans. This may be old fashioned, but what happened to the idea that if you were bad at paying your bills on time, people wouldn't loan you money? What happened is they got the ability to charge very high interest rates, so a little extra risk is no big deal. How sad is it to drag your butt to work each day, so that the creepy credit sharks can take your hard-earned money? When you're old and grey and feeble, you're also broke. Really sad. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Saturday

I never got around to my post yesterday because I was attending to the every beck and call of Mr. Sneedlet 1.

His mother, as you may recall from previous episodes, is recovering from surgery and is unable to attend to him at the moment. The giant plastic collar that they put around her neck and secured with a padlock, to keep her from scratching her ears, is so big that she can't see the floor, making navigation perilous. Picture a doberman that has had its ears cropped, only the collar is much bigger because of Daughter Sneed's inordinately long, monkey-like arms (hardy-har). So Sneedlet is with us until at least Sunday.

Disclaimer: The preceding paragraph is mostly a work of the imagination of the author. I sincerely apologize for any offense taken, real or imagined, by any persons living or fictious.

Yesterday we took a nature hike to the cafe a few blocks from here. It didn't start out to be a nature hike, it just turned out that way. As you can see from the picture, Sneedlet was able to find some dried sticks. They proved useful for drumming on things, shooting at stuff and prodding an older guy when he was trying to "rest his eyes".

Sneedlet lives kind of a sheltered life because his mom works from home and there are no other kids his age around. Yesterday as we walked to the cafe he discovered that his shoes leave footprints in the dirt where he steps. This has been a major point of discussion ever since. This morning he wanted to go out and make some footprints. Go figure.

We normally make a lap around the cul-de-sac when we go outside. Sneedlet has a regular array of attractions that we have to visit. We have to stop at the house next door because they have some big rocks a guy has to climb on. The house three houses down has steps, so he has to climb on their porch and then jump down the steps. We stop to look in the retention basin so that he can run up and down the hill and then conclude our trip by looking through the lights.

The lights are actually reflectors on a stick that the old lady at the end of the cul-de-sac has by her driveway to help her find it in the dark. Apparently, there are magical worlds that can be seen through the reflectors, but only by three year-olds.

I also had to take Daughter Sneed's car to get an oil change where I had the experience of the guy telling me that the oil change is $32.65 or $20 if I paid cash. There is probably something fishy going on, don't you think?

Sneedlet was very interested in the whole oil change idea and when we got home he got a coke can and declared it his oil can. Periodically, he rides up to me on his tricycle and asks me to change his oil. That tricycle sure needs a lot of maintenance.

Anyway, I was too busy yesterday to find annoying things to complain about. I will try and do better tomorrow.

Merle.








Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Tube or Argyle?

I have a couple of housekeeping things to take care of here.

Someone, and he knows who he is, abruptly stopped posting and may be in witness protection. He claims to be in jail, but I'm not buying it. Come back now!

Thanks to Frugalrosie for pointing me to the link about the guy who sued Dell over a bad repair job. He served the papers on them at their kiosk in a mall and then won a default judgement in small claims court when they didn't respond. How great is that?

Dell, like most companies, doesn't let their employees actually solve customer service problems, because they can save money by making the customers jump through hoops to get what they pay for. Many give up and just go away. The management of major corporations are mostly weasels in case you wondered.

Take Circuit City...please. They always have mail-in rebates rather than just discounting prices. The reason is that they can give the illusion of lower prices while secure in the knowledge that most people don't ever send in the the rebates forms. It bumps up sales and puts the burden on the customer.

At my company this month, we are very concerned with SOX, the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002. It is also known as the Public Company Accounting Reform and Investor Protection Act of 2002. If you are unfamiliar with the SOX and want to read more, be my guest. Don't say I didn't warn you though.

Allow me to give you my version of the story. The guys running Enron, Worldcom, Arthur Anderson and a bunch of other major US companies were thieving crooks. They stole from their investors and laid waste to the retirement plans of their workers, leaving them broke and working at McDonald's.

These sacks of human debris are now mostly in jail, cooperating with the authorities to avoid or minimize their incarceration, or in the case of Ken Lay, quite dead. To that I say, good riddance, one and all.

Anyway, Sarbanes and Oxley, a couple of US legislators, cooked up legislation to insure that these sort of hijinks don't happen again. The bill basically says that you have to record financial transactions accurately and stealing from the corporation is frowned upon. I thought we all understood that, but apparently not. I have no confidence that this will deter the thieving bastards one whit, but it does put a major burden on the honest corporate citizens and their powerless lackeys, like me.

At my company we are receiving serious, in-depth training on complying with the SOX law. We were told that the training was mandatory and failure to pass the test would result in our dismissal. We got to spend several hours memorizing crap that has nothing whatever to do with our jobs. Plus, since guys like me can't spend one cent of the companies money anyway, the chances of me scoring big at the company treasury are slim, even if I was so inclined.

My favorite part of the training was when the 100th person pointed out that a lot of what they were teaching us was about stuff we don't have anything to to with. The trainer earnestly explained that upper-management thought it quite important that we know all the material. Hey, did you understand the question? You guys got us into this mess to begin with.

So, I took the training, took the test and got my certificate. Now I can forget the whole business until next year and get back to my job, because you see, I am not a crook and I got the paper to prove it.

Isn't this the way it always works? The bigshots get caught cooking the books and we all have to get religion. Can I get an amen?

Merle.




Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Wednesday

A big Mary Poppins fan

This is a bunch of random stuff, unlike my usual posts, which, come to think of it, are a bunch of random stuff. Never mind.

The picture here is Sneedlet sitting in his Thomas the Tank Engine bed, watching a video and evidently expecting rain.

Daughter Sneed had a surgical procedure today, so Sneedlet spent the night with us. He is a delight, but man does he have a lot of energy.

Isn't modern medicine amazing? Who knew that butt-reduction surgery could be done on an out-patient basis? I can just hear Daughter Sneed saying "Hardy-har", right now. Of course, I'm kidding, it was ear-reduction surgery. The big downside to the surgery is that now she has to pay for Directv. The surgery went well, so we are thankful for that.

My day began with a chance meeting with a guy in the parking lot at work. He works for another company in my building as a software developer or something. He used to work as a contractor for my company, so I know him some. He was telling me that he is flying to California tomorrow to interview for a new job, an executive job, that pays over $600,000 thousand per year. How do you respond to that? He makes maybe $50,000 now, working for the same company.

That story is just slightly more likely than his being able to flap his arms and fly to California under his own power. I'm not sure why people say things that are ludicrous on their face. Maybe they actually believe them, who knows?

I gave him the old ya-ya, assured him that I was available to be a cabin boy on the good ship Lollipop, should it come in and hustled off before I said something stupid.

We had a bake sale at work today to help the coworker I posted about yesterday. In addition, we circulated two envelopes for donations. The idea was two envelopes would travel faster than one. Someone stole one of them. Nice. Man, I wish I believed in Karma.

Also, the boss threw a little holiday luncheon today for all the troops. You know how I feel about these free lunches, so I went to Subway. Free lunches rank right up there with UFOs and Bigfoot. Ain't no such thing.

There wasn't enough food for all of us anyway and the boneheads in the office were lined up like he was handing out rations to the starving. The way these things work at our place is that the first people in line get the good stuff and it gets progressively more meager as the line progresses. By the end, some poor schmuck is scraping the bottom of the pan in hopes of finding edible chunks. Plus, the boss was regaling everyone with his wit and wisdom and who needs that?

Anyway, I off to bowling and if anything develops you will be among the first to know.

Merle.




Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Merry Christmas to Most

Sometimes you see a crazy person do something that is funny and you have to laugh. Some people, dare I say most people, think it is wrong to laugh at what a crazy person does because they can't help themselves. But I'm not some people. Funny is funny. I appreciate that being crazy is no laughing matter, but I think it is possible to find humor without belittling a person, so I am going to go ahead and tell you a story.

This morning I had to go to the dermatologist's office to have my leprosy checked out. I don't really have leprosy, but my real condition is hard to remember, so I go with Hansen's disease (leprosy).

On the way back to work, I realized that I hadn't eaten yet today and since I am always vigilant for signs of hypoglycemia or other food deficiency-related matters, I stopped at a supermarket, to get a snack. Okay, that was a load, but I was hungry.

My snack became a meal, but that's another story. As I waited to pay I noticed that the manager of the store was a giant of a man, maybe 6 foot 10 or taller. Or as medical professionals say, really tall. Since there aren't that many giants around, I figured that I better go over and read his name tag to see if he was formerly famous or anything.

I approached him and from a discreet distance tried to make out the name on his tag. I squinted my best and as I did, a fellow dressed like Elmer Fudd hunting ducks, barrelled up and started asking if the giant was the manager. When he affirmed that he was, the guy launched into a rant, the crux of which was that there was a man talking to him outside the store who wouldn't stop. Plus, he added, the guy was wishing him a Merry Christmas. The monster! He went on to say that he had asked an employee of the store earlier to make the guy stop, but the fellow persisted. The guy in question was the Salvation Army bell-ringer. The incident ended when the manager went out and told the bell-ringer not to talk to the guy. The poor bell-ringer seemed confused, but promised to go forth and greet no more, at least with respect to this guy.

In other news the son of a coworker had a brain aneurysm a couple of weeks ago. He is just 25 years-old. He has been in a brain injury hospital in another city for the last couple of weeks and will have a long period of recovery. My coworker has had to be with him because it has been touch and go.

This morning I had to go see the boss and when I walked into his office, he was talking to her on the phone. He was in the middle of explaining to her that she had used all her vacation and was not being paid for the time off. This adds insult to injury, if you ask me. If the poor woman was at her desk she would be paid, so what is the difference? Some of us will have to cover her work anyway. Twenty years working for the company and she get zero consideration when she needs it. Ain't corporate America grand?

Since I overheard the conversation, my boss felt the need to tell me that as much as he would like to pay her, he just can't, we have rules afterall. That is crappola. All he has to do is to fill out her timesheet and no one will be any the wiser at headquarters.

There are leaders and then there are bosses. It is the rare person that is both.

Merle.






Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Who Knew?

One of the things that I am amazed by is how immigrants can come to the United States and figure out how to make a living, by doing things that would never occur to me, in ways that I wouldn't try.

When we had our kitchen remodeled the plumber was a Bulgarian guy who taught school back in Bulgaria and had a degree in Bulgarian history. He said that he couldn't qualify to teach in American and no one was hiring Bulgarian historians, so he learned plumbing. The decision to come to the United States turned out to be a good one for him, as he saw it.

For our trip these past few days, we made reservations on the Super Shuttle to get from the airport in Los Angeles to the hotel in Anaheim and back to the airport. The fare was $24 per person round-trip. Normal fare is $30 but we had a coupon.

The fellow who picked us up last evening at the hotel was an immigrant from somewhere in the middle east. The ten-passenger van that he picked us up in, had nine passengers booked, including our party, so being the largest I quickly called shotgun, and I got the seat next to the driver.

As an aside the World's Foremost Expert on (fill in the blank), sitting in the middle of the first row of seats behind me and the driver, bitched about the tightness of the quarters. With the passenger to her left pressed tight against the window and the passenger to her right hanging on to the edge of the bench with one butt-cheek suspended in air, she loudly announced, "This is ridiculuous. I know I'm big, but I'm not that big." I beg to differ, sis.

As we drove along I was trying to figure out how the whole Super Shuttle process works. I asked the driver where he parks the van at night. To my surprise he answered, "At my house, this is my van, I bought it."

I had assumed that our driver was an employee and that the van belonged to the company, but it turns out that the each Super Shuttle van is an individual franchise. This guy bought the van, ordered in the distinctive Super Shuttle blue, paid to have all the logo stuff put on and presto he was in business for himself.

In exchange for franchising with Super Shuttle, he pays them $625 per week plus 25% of his fares, about $34 per trip to or from the airport. Assuming he has a full van, he gets about $100 per trip for himself, out of which he pays the van payment and all expenses, except insurance. They provide him with liability insurance, passengers, access to the airport and administrative support.

Whenever he wants to work, he logs into the Super Shuttle system to see what is available and is assigned a pickup. At the airport he has to wait in line with the other drivers to get a load. A wait that can be as little as 15 minutes or two to three hours, depending on the season. Sometimes Super Shuttle will call him if they need a driver to make a pickup right away.

He told me that he would never want to be an employee, so this was great for him. The downside is that he works long hours to make a living, but it is worth it because he can make his own schedule and doesn't have a boss telling him what to do. He enjoys the flexibility.

I'm pretty sure that if you plunked me down in a foreign country tomorrow, with little money and no job, I would quickly become just another homeless guy. These immigrant guys seem to land on their feet. They have dream, and I guess that trumps fear by a lot.

Merle.
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Saturday

What sort of parallel universe is it where a 30ish guy wears an Old Guys Rule shirt?
I tried to turn on my laptop this morning and nothing happened. This is the second time that I've had this experience. Just like the first time, it finally started up like normal. Very strange.

I spent my fourth and final day at Dinsneyland. Thank goodness that's over. Sneedlet and I had a great time today by ourselves. Our son and his family left for home this morning and called this evening to say that they had arrived safely. We are grateful for that.

Yesterday, as I pushed Sneedlet into the park a woman sidled up next to me ands said, "I guess you're never too old for Disneyland." I was flabergasted. I'm only 56 for cripes sake. I've seen plenty of much older people than me, why did she pick me out? If that was some sort of come on, she definitely needs work on her technique.

Disneyland may be the last great demilitarized zone. In Disneyland you see plenty of scary guys. Guys with prison tattoos, guys who look like they kill for a living and really freaky-scary guys, you know, the one's who have mom's head in the freezer? Only at Disneyland will you see a guy that you know has done hard time, wearing a Goofy hat or or A Donald Duck hat with the bill as, well a bill. Even the hardened criminal element and the Hell's Angel's love the Magic Kingdom. Go figure.

When we were leaving the park tonight, it was raining hard and was cold. Whoever wrote, It never rains in southern California, was either lying or had never spent time here.

As we waited in the rain for the hotel shuttle, with the sleeping Sneedlet bundled up in his stroller, a gaggle of inconsiderate jackasses raced up to where we were standing and pushed their way on the bus. Only the driver's assurance that another bus was right behind him averted an international incident and my incarceration for attempted homicide. My advice to people would be, if you come from a country where people don't line up for their turn, then I would appreciate it if you would stay there. I'm not saying I mean the Germans, but if die Schuhwaren fit, wear them.

Merle



Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

The Forced March to Hell..er..Disneyland Day Two

If you can find two cuter guys, buy em!


Another day at Disneyland. Got there at 9 am and stayed until 6 pm or so. I met Older son Sneed and his family for the day. The Sneedlets and I spent some time on the little kid's rides so that mom and dad could do the more adventurous stuff.

Sneedlet One and I went on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and he was scared. We won't be doing that again. This was before the other arrived. Sneedlet Two flatly refuses to consider the possibility.

Disneyland gives a guy the chance to observe a people in large groups. Let me tell you that there a a lot of weirdos wandering around. There was a family on the shuttle from the hotel this morning, husband, wife, boy and girl. They looked perfectly average, but for some reason the mom kept staying loudly, Zoe kicked Darth Vader's butt. Zoe was the 4 or 5 year old daughter. What's the point? Why not just wear a sign saying you are a hick?

Lot's of family have reunions at Disneyland and some have tee-shirts made to celebrate the occasion. You know something like The Smith's Disneyland Family Reunion 2006 ? You see about 20 or 30 people wearing the shirts. My favorite in this category was a scary looking guy with prison tattoos covering the visible parts of is body. He had ripped the sleeves out of his tee-shirt which made him look even scarier. Hey, kids Uncle Lester made bail and came to the reunion.

Some folks take the lines and proper line etiquette very seriously. A lady at the Winnie the Pooh ride today took offense that I was taking a picture of the Sneedlets when I was supposed to be getting into the car for the ride. She yoohooed me and finally told me flat out that I was supposed to get in.

I also nearly knocked out a Disneyland worker. Sneedlet One dropped something a when I turned to get it I somehow connected dead on her nose with my elbow. I don't know what the penalty is for maiming an employee of the Happiest Place On Earth, but I'm sure it isn't pretty.

We went to Outback Steakhouse this evening for dinner and it was a treat to eat something besides Disney food. I even had broccoli and it was so good.

I apologize for the suckiness of these posts but I don't have much to work with here.

Merle.






Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Disneyland, Day 1

I here at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Garden Grove, California, where Daughter Sneed and the lovely Mrs. Sneed are attending a conference put on by the Milton H. Erickson Foundation The purpose of the foundation is to train mental health professionals and this conference is an annual event. Fortunately for Sneedlet and me, Disneyland is a mile up the road, so we have plenty to do. Coincidently, our son, Dr. Older Son Sneed, PharmD, had to give a talk at the meeting of the American Society of Hospital Pharmacists, at the Anaheim Convention Center, this week so he, Daughter-in-law Sneed and Sneedlet II are also here. Today we met up with them at Disneyland at 4pm and spent 4 hours in the park. It was great fun and the little boys loved it. Tommorrow, while the lovely Mrs. Sneed and Daughter Sneed are busy, Sneedlet and I are meeting the others to spend the day with them. Perhaps I can relieve them a bit from having to spend every moment with their Sneedlet. We will see. I signed up for a weeklong internet deal with the Hyatt, so I will be boring you all with the details as they develop. After our one hour flight today and the corresponding one hour time change, I'm pretty sure that I have a touch of the jet-lag. I need to go to sleep. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky. Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

I'm Thinking of a Number...

I was buying my lunch at Subway today and the guy in front of me asked the cashier about a copper bracelet that he was wearing. The cashier said that he used to be skeptical about the alleged benefits of copper bracelets for pain management, but since he started wearing one, he had become a believer. I would bet you that almost everyone knows someone who believes that copper is beneficial for pain relief. In fact, you may believe it yourself. The problem is that there is no actual scientific research to support these claims and I for one, think its all crap. The problem with assessing claims of pain relief from copper bracelets or anything else outside the bounds of real medicine, for that matter, is that they are so subjective. It is difficult to measure pain objectively anyway; minor pain to you, might be excruciating pain to me. It follows that the level of improvement is also subjective and hard to guage. We can't slap a bracelet on someone and find out via scientific measurement that the pain that was a ten, is now a five. That is not how it works. Adherents report gradual improvement and reports of the benefits of these type of devices are exclusively anecdotal. It is more about what we believe works than what actually works. Here's a major clue, regular doctors rarely recommend copper bracelets, or as Bill Engvall would say, "Here's your sign." Without question, the dumbest purchase that I ever made involved another bit of psuedo-scientific quackery, magnets. Magnets are reputed and touted to be useful in curing a number of physical and practical problems. In my case it was practical. During the 1980's, when I was younger and more gullible, I wasted $300 on a magnetic water conditioner. The lovely Mrs. Sneed noticed that the dishes had a white film on them after being washed. Our assumption was that our water was of low quality. The braintrust running our fair city's water department had switched over to Colorado River water and there had been a lot of trouble over water quality. It seemed perfectly reasonable. At the same time I heard a guy on a local radio program touting his revolutionary water treatment device based on magnets. This was no yokel, or so it seemed, but a real scientist, at least he said he was. So I called him. This bozo showed up while I was at work and strapped a cheesey magnet to the water pipe coming into the house. Then he went in turned on the water and he and his assistant stared at the flow for a minute, before exclaiming, "Did you see it change?" The lovely Mrs. Sneed looks at this guy and saying something to the effect of, "You're a freaking crook." then she calls me at work to tell me that he is a crook. The guy beats feet, fearing for his safety. The funny thing was that in the hasty retreat he lost his day planner book and called me at work to ask if I would call her at home to see if it was there. He freely admitted that he was too scared to call himself. Unfortunately, we were out $300 because I wanted this device to work. Another important factor in falling for quackery is wanting something to be true. As it turned out the problem was that the dishwasher was broken and didn't rinse correctly. The film was soap residue. So not only did we own a useless water device, we got to buy a dishwasher. Dave Ramsey calls this stupid tax. This is an important lesson that I once heard from a doctor. When you hear hoof beats think of horses, not zebras, or said another way, common things are common. In science and logic this is called Occam's razor. The simplest explanation is more likely to be right that a complicated one. Another thing happened to me today that shows how easily we delude ourselves. We are going to California tomorrow so that the lovely Mrs. Sneed and Daughter Sneed can attend a conference. We had a plan for Daughter Sneed to meet us at the airport. I thought to myself, What if she has car trouble and we miss the flight? Maybe we should pick her up. Well, tonight on the way to come to our house to drop off Sneedlet so that she could attend a meeting, her car died. Some people would tell themselves that they had a premonition. I would except there is no such thing as a premonition. The real explanation is that I always think of the worst case, so it is natural that when the worst case occurred, I had predicted it. I always predict it. Go figure. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor