I went next door to ask my neighbor and would-be girlfriend Tracey a question and noticed that a mouse was building a nest in one of her bushes.

















As much as I would have liked to be at work today, I wasn't. I took a day off. The Sea Food King, Sea Food, Jr., Some Guy Named Bob and I played golf this morning. It was pleasant enough, but hot at times. My golf is improving, I have moved up from total embarrassment to a mere embarrassment. Incremental improvement. If I live to be ninety and my body holds up, I hope to achieve mediocrity.

This being a man of leisure has a lot to recommend it, I have to say. We had a leisurely lunch after golf and I came home and took a nap.

Late this afternoon we had a family meeting with Son Sneed and a psychologist from the hospital. They are working on an outpatient treatment plan to deal with his chronic depression. He may be released tomorrow afternoon.

One of my favorite things happened today. The pergola that we bought Saturday was marked down another $100 today. The Lovely Mrs. Sneed happened to be in the Costco store this evening and noticed the reduction. We dug up the receipt and hustled back to collect our $100 refund. Since I will soon be on a fixed income every dollar helps.

When we were in Las Vegas over the weekend we took in the Las Vegas version of The Producers at the Paris Hotel. We have not seen The Producers either on Broadway or with the national tour, so we have nothing to compare this version to. It is only 90 minute in length, without intermission, as opposed to the Broadway production, which is 2 hours and 50 minutes long including an intermission. It was enjoyable none-the-less. Productions in Las Vegas are always shortened up, but the prices are not.

Tomorrow is back to work. Only twenty one work days left. Yipee.


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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Rumors Of My Replacement Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be a nice guy. As I said in an earlier post, had I gone with my instincts, this Friday, June 1, would have been my last day at Tedious Systems and I would have been a happy guy. Instead, I tripped over my tendency toward a cooperative spirit and allowed Randall Bing, my boss, to play upon my good nature to keep me on the job an extra thirty days. Just to facilitate getting a replacement on the job and up to speed, you understand. I overheard one of my coworkers ranting today about the possibility that my departure might cause my work to fall on his shoulders. When the ranting stopped and he went back to his desk, I wandered over and asked what the problem was. He is frustrated that Randall has no plan, at least not one he is sharing with the little people. The "not knowing" is getting to my friend. I told him I didn't know what the plan was either and that I would just go and confront Randall about the progress he was making in securing my replacement. Predictably, he has accomplished nothing in the three weeks since I gave my notice. He said that his bosses' boss is refusing to approve any replacements, so he is working on a backup plan. Apparently, woefully understaffed isn't quite enough in the belt-tightening department. I am such a schmuck for staying an extra month. If you think Tedious systems is screwed up, you should have to deal with our mental health services here in our fair city. Young Sneed remains hospitalized. Yesterday he called his mother and reported that the attending doctor had informed him that he would be staying in the hospital indefinitely, even if it meant getting a court order to force him to. Bright and early this morning I got a call from a psychologist at the hospital to set up a family meeting tomorrow about his discharge. Go figure. The poor guy doesn't want to be locked up any longer and we certainly don't want that either, but he has demonstrated that he is a danger to himself, so we need a plan to address that. Sending him home and hoping for the best is not a plan. A complicating factor is that he will say anything and agree to any condition in order to get his release. He is very poor at following up on these promises and conditions. Poor Sneed is presently unable to cope with the smallest problem. Right now his legal woes have him in a state of complete despair. He cannot see past them, which has left him hopeless and in his mind, with no reason to live. Living with a chronically ill child is very stressful, but it is nothing in comparison to living with one who is also suicidal. Mental illness is so cruel. 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 judgmental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

It Whitens, But Doesn't Explode

The lovely Mrs. Sneed and I were detained today at the Gate C security screening area of McCarran International Airport. My people are working furiously behind the scenes to insure that this matter doesn't become public. After the mess Brittney and Lindsay found themselves in, I don't want publicity, that's for sure.

As we passed our carry-on bags through the x-ray gizmo, the eagle-eyed TSA guy in charge of staring at your underwear, shouted out "Bag check", which sent one of the security staff sprinting toward him. The conveyor belt ground to a halt and the two of them stared intently at something through their high tech x-ray scope. That something turned out to be my bag.

The special agent on duty, Delores, grabbed the bag and yelled, "who owns this?", holding my bag up. I admitted that it was me. She demanded to know what I had in the bag and did it include anything sharp? I was inclined to offer that they should know since they spent a minute staring at it through the x-ray machine, but I didn't. Delores took us to a secluded area, where she pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves and announced that she was going to search my belongings.

I offered that the bag only contained my dirty clothes and the lovely Mrs. Sneed added that Delores might want to double-glove for this job. Delores wasn't amused. She tore into the bag and pulled out a ziplock bag of cosmetic items. She removed the large tube of Colgate toothpaste and said it was not legal to carry on. It seems that there is a 3.9 oz size limitation on toothpaste carried on a plane. My tube was a whopping 8.2 oz.

Evidently, someone at Homeland Security has figured out that a 3.9 oz toothpaste tube cannot be repacked with enough explosives to bring down an airplane. Anything over 3.9 oz might be lethal, including my 8.2 oz behemoth. I wonder if I can carry on 2 3.9 oz tubes? Isn't that the same thing more or less? I resisted the urge to ask.

I have had this tube for a couple of years, and I always take it along on vacation. It has enough miles on it to qualify for its own frequent flier card. No one has ever challenged it before, including on the trip to Las Vegas on Sunday. Today, it met its match in Delores.

Delores said that I would have to take it downstairs and check it, if I wished to keep it. I don't think you can really check a tube of toothpaste, so I told her to toss it out. Anyway, the friendly skies remain safe, thanks to Delores and the dedicated men and women of the Transportation Security Administration.


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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Saturday

Ched wonders why Sneedlet One is prohibited from riding in the Sneed Family Junkster, pictured above. It is not because the truck is inherently unsafe, but rather because Sneedlet's older brother, Christian, died as a result of a motor vehicle accident. We are very cautious with the Sneedlets as a result. The Junkster is too small to provide adequate protection in the event of an accident.

Golf today was fun, but hot. Some Guy Named Bob arranged two foursomes, but two players didn't show up. I played in a group with Larry the Dentist and Tony the Cash Register Guy. As usual, I continue to suck at golf, but slightly less so than previously reported.

We bought a pergola today for the back patio. Costco Warehouse was clearing the remaining stock out at half-price and I think everyone knows how much I like the half-price sale. Our backyard has a western exposure, so it is very hot in the late afternoon. Hopefully, we will be able to get some shade. I think we can train one of the trumpet vines to grow on it. We'll see, I guess.

We also just came back from visiting Son Sneed at the hospital. As usual with someone regulating his meds, he thinks he is fit and able to come home. Hopefully the hospital staff will disagree with him. Last month's premature discharge proved disastrous. Son Sneed is complaining about the tedium of the hospital. When he is at home he rarely leaves his room. It really comes down to the quality of the television available and his computer. Given those two things he would be happy to stay for a long time.

Sneedlet is still with us and his welcome has worn thin. If I hear, "you're not my friend anymore", another time I may snap. His mom is picking him up at 8:30 in the morning and whisking him away. The Lovely Mrs. Sneed and I will be whisking ourselves to the airport and off to Las Vegas.

Everyone have a swell three-day weekend.






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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

I Am Not A Crook

Something that I need to clarify, lest you think I am a crook or something. Generally speaking, when I speak of leaving work early or rolling in late, I have used my accumulated time off entitlement to cover the hours not worked.

Having said that, I took off at mid-morning today and picked up Sneedlet One. He is staying with the lovely Mrs. Sneed and me this evening and tomorrow, a day earlier than normal, because we might be going to Las Vegas on Sunday. By "might" I mean we are. We will be gone Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and we are staying at the Mirage. We have never stayed there before, but I am guessing it is not too different from the other Strip hotels. Some people go to the mountains or to the seashore for Memorial Day. We seek out the only place hotter than our fair city.

Someone asked me today if we were driving to Las Vegas. I know people who drive to Las Vegas from Southern Arizona. You may have heard of them, they are called idiots.

We are flying on Southwest Airlines for $138 each round trip. It will cost us $20 to park at our airport and $20 each way for cab to and from the airport. Our transportation cost for this trip is $335. Counting driving time to the airport, flying time and travel to the hotel in Las Vegas, we will invest 6 to 7 hours getting there and back home.

People who drive to Las Vegas think they are saving money. I am not buying it. The round trip mileage to Las Vegas from our city is about 850 miles. the cost to operate a car is between 40.5 cents (IRS) and 56 cents (AAA) per mile. Using the lower figure, the cost to drive to Las Vegas is .405 x 850 or $344.25. But the clincher for me is that the drive to Las Vegas is 7 hours each way. No thanks. I know plenty of people who can't figure this out, though.

In other news, the Seafood King is out of town this week, so we didn't play golf yesterday. Some Guy Named Bob called and he and I are playing in the morning with some guys I don't know. Should be fun.

In still more news, Younger Son Sneed is back in the hospital for an indefinite stay. We went to his doctor yesterday and he and the doctor agreed that he needed some in patient care to stabilize his situation. In particular he needs someone to regulate his medicines and keep him on a schedule. His mom was doing it, but he insisted on taking over for himself again and this past week has been a disaster as a result. This is a huge problem with people that are mentally ill. There is often no reasoning with them.

We went to visit him tonight and he was in good spirits. He says that confinement suits him at the moment, because he needs the structure. It will be nice not to have to worry about him while we are out of town over the holiday weekend.

And then there is this. The Lovely Mrs. Sneed thinks car maintenance is for chumps, so from time to time I have to commandeer her car and take it in. I took her car to work today because I needed to pick up Sneedlet and he isn't allowed to ride in my truck. Sneedlet and I used this opportunity to take it to our Honda mechanic because it needed an oil change. Mrs. Sneed doesn't drive many miles so we change the oil based upon months instead of miles driven.

When we got to the repair shop, Rod, our Honda guy, told me that we needed the 15,000 mile service done, so the $30 oil change became $165. We plan on driving the Honda for many years, so I don't mind spending a few bucks to keep it fit. I am forever amazed by people who buy a new car and then don't do proper maintenance. Penny wise and pound foolish, as they say.

This guy Rod has a nice little business working Hondas and Acuras. He has been in business for 12 years, after having been a mechanic at a Honda dealership. You can trust Rod to tell you what needs to be done and nothing more. If something can wait he will tell you that too. An honest mechanic is worth his weight in gold. Rod's shop is always busy because he is not a crook.







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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Not to brag or anything but I used my powerful connections to get this swell new garbage can from the city. She's a beaut, huh?

I went to take the trash to the curb this morning and noticed that the lid of the can had rotted through. A quick call the city and they put their best people on the job. The can was exchanged by the time I got home.

In another sign that something is dreadfully wrong in the universe I heard Bob Dylan's Like A Rolling Stone on my father's oldie station today. My dad used to like this station because they played Sinatra, Bennett, the Dorsey's, Glenn Miller. Today while I was on my way to a meeting I put it on and heard Bob. That's not right. Bob has come a long way and we have all gotten older since the days when my friend Eugene's dad would shout, "turn that sh*t off!", when we played the 45 of Rolling Stone for the zillionth time. Bob Dylan should not be on the station that brags that it has the greatest hits from the 40s, 50s and 60s.

This will seem a bit preachy, but what can I say?

Our local yokels in the press are having a cow over the gas prices. I personally don't think that rising gas prices are necessarily bad in the long run. It is time we got past our love affair with the automobile, or at least gasoline.

Low gasoline prices killed small town America as surely as WalMart does. The passion to drive, resulted in bigger and bigger highways that passed by the small towns that served as stopping off points for travelers. Cars allowed urban areas to sprawl and killed public transportation, including passenger trains, although that was helped along by air travel.

Low gas prices begat bigger and faster cars, poor fuel economy and global pollution. The Big Three American automakers rode the public's passion for big cars to their own ruin, because they built their business on the assumption that gasoline would remain plentiful and cheap. Hundreds of thousands of auto workers lost their jobs in the process. Much of the industrial Midwest lies in economic ruin because of our lust for big, inefficient cars.

Part of the angst high gas prices cause results from the lack of available substitutes, I get that, but that is our fault too. Persistently high prices in much of the remainder of the world has made them much less dependent. Cries for the government to mandate lower prices is misguided. When prices are too low supplies shrink.

Gas prices are high because we continue to demand gasoline. If we each committed to using ten percent less gas, prices would plummet, but we won't. It is a shame that many people think that gasoline is exempt from the law of supply and demand, or ought to be. It is really unfortunate that many public servants don't get it either. Just my opinion.




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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Son Sneed is slightly improved today, but still kind of disoriented. The poor guy is trying to get his medical records for the events surrounding his DUI arrest, but the boneheads at Carondelet St. Joseph's Hospital are refusing to let him have them because they don't want him using the information in a court case. I have a call in to the administration of the hospital so that I can read them their own Patient's Bill of Rights, which says he has a right to a copy. They don't know what a pain-in-the -ass I can be. My young friend at work got his new car today and he is very happy about it. He was telling me that he got a major deal, because the car that he agreed to buy turned out to have been previously spoken for, so the dealer gave him different car, with free floor mats and tinted windows. I take back what I said about this being a dopey deal. Speaking of dopey ideas, American Express has teamed up with a couple of mortgage lenders to allow borrowers to pay their mortgages, using their American Express cards. For a $395 one-time fee borrowers at American Home Mortgage Investment Corp and IndyMac Bankcorp can use their cards to pay the mortgage and earn airline miles or cash back. I have to believe that American Express is counting on people not paying off that balance every month. I guess the mortgage companies figure the fee they pay to American Express to process the payments will be made up in additional business. I wouldn't do it. This program is chock full of traps for the borrower. Not paying it off in full each month subjects the payment to a far higher interest rate than a mortgage carries. A sudden change in the interest rate could spell disaster. Most credit card lenders have a universal default provision that says if you pay any bill late, they have the right to charge their maximum allowable interest rate, regardless of whether you are late with them. Even slow mail, could trip you up. It is not worth the risk to me. 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 judgmental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Younger Son Sneed

These are a couple of bushes that are in the front of our house. You may be familiar with them, but since they are tropical, not everyone is. The pink flowering bush is Crapemyrtle. It blooms in May with these showy clumps of blooms. The lower picture is of Common Lantana. This bush froze to the ground over the winter but has come back nicely. Both are drought tolerant, making them excellent for our climate.







































Younger Son Sneed is having another episode from his mental illness. It is like the one that caused his legal problems last month. Mrs. Sneed awakened me at 3:30 am today to tell me that Younger Son Sneed was gone and that she was afraid for his safety. Fortunately, his car was in the garage. I found him a couple of blocks away wandering the street in search of an open store. He had no idea that it was three-thirty in the morning.

Our town is not like many big cities where one might find stores open at that hour. Circle K is open all night, but there isn't one nearby. The poor guy was more likely to get hurt than find an open store.

This whole episode resulted in a trip to the hospital, a six-hour stay in the coldest room ever and hearty good luck and goodbye. After being allowed to sleep in the cold room under a pile of blankets, Young Sneed told the hospital staff that he felt good and was anxious to get back home. Since he is an adult, my vote didn't count for anything. He is fine, if by fine you mean he can't recall what happened two minutes ago and doesn't know what day or time it is.

As days go, this hasn't been one of the better ones.

I was also just reading an article by some guy writing for Market Watch. According to a HBSC Bank survey, people making $250,000 or more per year are no better at saving than the rest of us. Ya think?

This is really the same conclusion that Stanley and Danko came to in their research for the book The Millionaire Next Door. Saving is a habit and is not a function of income. People who make more tend to...say it with me...spend more!

For better or worse, my strategy has always been to put something away before I spend my paycheck. We save, pay our bill and then spend. Believe me, when we were young there were plenty of times when my pay was gone on the day I got it, but we have never not paid a bill on time or saved a bit for our old age.

Anyway, that's my two cents on the matter.










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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Car Fever

I have a young guy who works on our floor that comes to me with his financial questions. I have posted about him before because no matter what I tell him, he does what he intended to do before he asked my advice. I don't really care because I don't have an emotional investment in the outcome.

What does bother me is that he thinks he is a savvy character and that keeps getting him into trouble.

His latest deal involves a new car. He had been driving a late model truck that he claimed was paid for. Technically, he refinanced the balance into his home loan when interest rates were low, but since he doesn't make a monthly payment, I guess it's close enough. Lately, the truck has been acting up a bit.

A few weeks ago he described the trouble he was having to me and asked me what I thought he should do. The latest engine problem was covered by a warranty, so there was no out-of-pocket cost to him. The warranty has just expired and he was worried that it will break again. My suggestion was to keep driving the truck until it died. It has at least another 100,000 miles of service life remaining.

He came back several days later to say that the truck was for sale and that he was buying a new car. Since he doesn't have enough money to pay cash, he is getting a loan. I think you can fix a lot of breakdowns for the cost of a new car and I told him so, but he wasn't really that receptive.

His second bonehead reason for the new car is that it will get much better mileage. I tried to explain this to him to no avail. If you drive 15,000 mile per year and get 15 mile per gallon you will spend around $2,700 on gas at $2.70 per gallon. If you improve mileage by fifty percent, you would save $900 per year. Spending $3,600 per year to save $900 isn't too smart, not to mention that my little friend's $20,000 new car will be worth $5,000 in five years.

Toady he popped in to say that he sold the truck and had ordered his new car. The proceeds of the truck are being used to pay off other debt and make a $3000 down payment on the new car. He is going to have a $300 monthly payment for the next six years. Oh my.

I am not sure why this fellow asks me for my advice and then discounts it, nor do I really care, as I said. What I do know is that if he drove his truck for 6 more years, deposited $300 per month in a saving account instead of a car payment, he would have over $22000 in the bank. If he let that grow for 20 years, until he was my age, without adding to it at all, it would grow to $103,000, assuming he earned a modest 8% return. Hope he likes the car.




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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

12 Angry Men

Yesterday's post about my favorite living male actors gave me reason to reflect on my favorite movies.

For my money the best picture ever made was 12 Angry Men. I mean of course the 1957 black and white film, not the dopey 1997 version. 12 Angry Men starred Henry Fonda and featured perhaps the greatest ensemble cast ever assembled. Lee J. Cobb, Ed Begley, John Fiedler, E.G. Marshall, Jack Warden, Ed Binns, Martin Balsam, Jack Klugman, George Voskovec, Robert Webber, and Joseph Sweeney. In the 1950s many of these men were established stars. Mr. Sweeney, who was in his seventies when the movie was released, was perhaps the most obscure member of the cast.

Joseph Sweeney play Mr. McArdle, known until the last scene in the movie simply as Juror 9. He and Henry Fonda introduce themselves to the other as they leave the courthouse.

Mr. Sweeney had an interesting career. He seems to have appeared in only seven movies including the Philadelphia Story and The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit. 12 Angry Men was his most substantial movie role. Mr. Sweeney worked in his first film in 1918 and then showed up again for one in the thirties, one in the forties and four movies in the fifties. Beginning in 1951, when he was sixty-seven years old he began a television career that was far more productive than his movie roles had been. He worked in television until his death in 1963, three days after President Kennedy was killed.

What makes this movie so great is that it relies completely on the skills of the actors. The are no gimmicks and no special effect, just the actors revealing the human flaws we all drag around.

Maybe you know the second greatest movie ever made.



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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Harry Dean Stanton

Harry Dean Stanton is one of my 5 favorite living male actors. Ched has a link to a video of HD playing guitar with BD. When I saw that I thought, Hey, I love Harry Dean.

Speaking of the movies, I took both of the Sneedlets to see Shrek the Third today. I liked it more than they did, I'm afraid. Like many kid's movies, the writers were trying to be a bit too cute for small kids. They did enjoy it though.

Both of the Sneedlets are at my house now. They are a rambunctious pair. They are at the age where they rough-house a lot. This usually ends in someone hurting the other, sending both crying to me. A moment ago they bumped heads, sending up caterwauls. The accusations flew about who did what to whom. Now they are back to playing.

As Art Linkletter observed, kids say the darnedest things. Sneedlet One and I were at Dillards department store today and he belted out, "Stronger whiskey and weaker women's what I say." a line from one of the cowboy songs he has memorized. Makes a grandfather proud.

Oh, and the four other actors I really like are, Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman, Robert Duvall, William Macy, Kevin Spacey, Al Pacino, Dennis Hopper, Michael Caine, James Earl Jones. Is that four yet?



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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Hello, Newman!

If you or a loved one are employed by the United States Postal Service, please stop reading now.

I had occasion to visit the post office today, an experience I would not encourage others to seek out. Normally, I avoid the post office, but since my retirement paperwork requires that it be sent certified mail, I had to make the trek.

The United States Postal Service is a dying business. Email, online banking and parcel delivery services have rendered it obsolete.

There are just two unofficial categories of mail; bills and junk. Online banking means that even the bill volume is dropping month by month, leaving the Postal Service with a growing dependence on junk advertising for its survival. A full 90% of the typical mail delivery to your box is junk mail. Spam in a can.

The first branch of the United States Postal Service I visited today had a line of about 20 customers and one postal clerk. People who go to the post office do so reluctantly because they have some mail dilemma or another, meaning that the line moves very slowly. Rather than devote an hour, I just left in search of greener pastures.

I got the bright idea to visit the main branch of our post office, figuring it would be well-staffed. I was wrong. In a city of over a million people, the flagship location of the United States Postal Service had two clerks on duty. The line stretched out the door, but I waited, figuring that this was a good as it was going to get.

There were lots of employees present, but only two devoted to attending to the patrons. Several milled around, including a guy named Julius, who looked like a serial killer. He wore blue USPS overalls and walked back and forth through the office, his postal service ball cap on backwards, and his bulging arms covered in what I would describe as prison tats. If trouble broke out, I was with Julius.

One clerk devoted nearly the entire time I was there, waiting on a single customer. There was a woman from a business who had a giant stack of envelops she was mailing. For reasons that I don't know, the postal clerk had to record the address from each envelope into a giant ledger. She did this all in longhand, letter by letter. I half expected the ghost of Abe Lincoln to walk in and offer to help by writing on a shovel.

A third clerk appeared shortly after I got in the door. She took up a position at one of the windows and shouted, "Anyone here for general delivery?" When no one spoke up she closed her window and disappeared into the back. She returned several more time to repeat the routine. During my thirty minute wait, she didn't handle a single transaction, despite the long line of waiting patrons. At one point she told one of the two clerks on duty that should anyone show up for general delivery, she would be taking her break. I'm guessing that the only way to tell if she is on break is whether she is sitting or standing.

There is a special office at the main branch to just sell stamps. They call it the....drumroll, please,...Stamp Office. During my wait I counted maybe 15 people who breezed in and went directly to the Stamp Office, only to be halted by a sign saying the occupant was on break and would return shortly.

They also had an old guy at an information desk by the door in case you had a question about the postal facility. I'm sure he was very helpful should you need someone to point out the line, which is pretty much what he did, except during the time he stopped Julius to tell him about some recent surgery.

The best thing about the whole affair was the red sign posted at every window, advising patrons that if they approach the window while talking on a cellphone, or should they answer the phone while at the window, they would be denied service. America needs more people to stand up to the cellphone addicts.

The government could save a lot of money if it would just sell the postal business to UPS, FedEx or any of a bunch of companies that actually make a profit. I don't think anyone really wants the whole mess though. Besides the real purpose of the postal service is to act as a jobs program for the government.

My postman, a guy named Keith, told me that he doesn't like the community mailboxes, serving several families from a single location, because it cuts down on the number of letter carriers needed. That tells me a lot.

All in all, I came away disillusioned by the whole business. Five times the staff and twice the cost. Government at its finest.







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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

A Going Forward Basis

St. Herb of Tarlek, patron saint of worthless salesman.



I rolled into work at noon today. The Sea Food King, Some Guy Named Bob, Sea Food, Jr. and I played golf early this morning. It was fun. We even had time for a leisurely lunch.

Some people find me to be a critical old crank. I prefer to think of myself as an observer of human behavior. I am fascinated by pomposity and the delusions of importance some folks harbor. Among the six or so billion of us humans, very few are as important to the continuance of life as we know it, as think.

My friend Frank called it the Hand in the Bucket of Water theory. Plunge your hand into a bucket of water and look at the hole you leave when you pull it out. That is pretty much the same with life.

For sure, being the Major Account Executive at Tedious Systems ain't all that. Which brings me to my point for the day, salespeople and the aggravation they cause me.

Professional salespeople are talented, respected and among the highest paid earners in America. Regretfully, like most professions, a true professional in the field of sales is the exception, not the rule.

Ten percent of salespeople are professionals, the other ninety percent are basically goof-balls looking for an easy buck. Car sales has a turnover rate of about 33% annually. A new real estate agent stands only a 45% chance of remaining in the business for three years. Many people think they can sell effectively, but few actually can. There are a million stories in the Naked City, this is one of them.

A few weeks ago I posted about a salesman at Tedious Systems, named F. Scott Fitzgerald. F. Scott apparently went to a meeting with a potential customer where he made some promises that our department would provide this potential customer a bunch of detailed information, based entirely on something that they might do someday. Not exactly the things we occupy our days with.

To use a football metaphor, salesmen tend to out-punt their coverage, when it comes to promising customers stuff they can't deliver. Through ignorance or zeal they manage to look like buffoons and annoy the troops.

One morning I got a voice mail from old F. Scott, in which he told me that he understood that I would be handling his ill-advised promise to his hypothetical customer. AS always, F. Scott was mistaken.

I tried the polite approach with F. Scott and told him that his request was something I could not do without way more information and that he needed to have Randall Bing's approval for me to do it anyway.

In response, F. Scott left me a message basically ordering me to snap to and to keep him up-to-speed on my progress. Since F. Scott is not my boss, I suggested that he buzz off. Undeterred, he began to bug my friend Pete, to see if he would pull a proposal out of his bu...uh, thin air.

Pete, being a more conscientious than me, actually called the potential customer to discuss his hypothetical project. According to Pete the conversation went like this.

Pete: I need some information to get your proposal together.
Guy: OK
Pete: What are you building?
Guy: Can't say, not ready to be made public.
Pete: When are you building?
Guy: Can't say.
Pete: How big.
Guy: Not final.

and on and on. Not the stuff dreams are built on.

I pretty much put the whole business out of my mind and moved on to really important stuff, like planning to be retired.

Imagine my surprise today when I received an email from Minnie Malarky who might be F. Scott Fitzgerald's boss or maybe just another blow-hard from sales. Wait, the two are not mutually exclusive. Her testy email was to both me and Pete (copied to my boss) telling us that we need to step up our efforts regarding this proposal. She said that the customer has been waiting since March, that our performance is unacceptable. She added, and I love this phrase, on a going-forward basis, we would need to keep her informed of our progress so that she can apprise the client. Going-forward basis is right out of the Empty Suit Handbook.

For about thirty seconds, I couldn't see because of the blood rushing to my eyeballs. I fired off an email to Randall Bing, my boss, asking him if we really wanted to waste our time on stupid promises made by stupid salespeople to hypothetical customers? He called me to his office to discuss my email.

Before heading over to see Randall, I fired off a reply to Minnie Malarky, telling her that I was sorry, but I wasn't really able to help her out with her problem and that on a going-forward basis I would appreciate her not sending snippy emails to my boss. I can't wait for the reply. You may recall that I am retiring so not only has Minnie picked on a guy who doesn't give a crap about her problems, she is powerless to do anything about it. If I was a religious man I would pray for her to have some actual clout which she could use to have me fired so that I don't have to wait until June 30 to retire.

Surprisingly, Randall Bing agreed with me about this exercise in ego inflation and wanted me to know that he had already called Minnie Malarky to tell her that we were occupied with approved projects. He told her that when she had an actual approved project for a genuine customer, we would be happy to snap to, provide full appraisal, go forward, etc. I was delighted. Randall stepped up.













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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

I hid under the Trumpet vines, trying to take pictures of birds at one of the feeders. All I got was this dopey sparrow.



Our Wednesday night bowling league ended tonight. It will be a relief to have some time away from bowling. I normally bowl two nights a week but during the summer months I am cutting back to one. I would cut back to zero, but the Sea Food King needs a partner for Wednesday nights this summer and he is so pathetic when he begs that I had to give in.

I also visited our financial planner today to discuss setting up an account to pay me some walking-around money when I no longer have a job. I think it will work out pretty good. The key is to not take too much, so as not to jeopardize our old age. Our financial plan should work if Mrs. Sneed works until she is 90. I need some one to break the news to her.






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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Tuesday Morning

I took this picture of our patio this morning.










I have some time this morning because I have to go to a training class and can leave home a bit later than normal.

It is so cool in the morning before the sun makes its way over the house. I was out in the back and the birds are busy eating the birdseed Sneedlet and I put out. When I open the back door, the birds scatter. The White-winged doves fly up on the patio wall and pace back and forth nervously, waiting for the intruder to go away.

These doves are comical birds. Many people think of them as pests, but I kind of like them. They have necks like the football players, thick things indistinguishable from their shoulders, with a tiny bulb-like head perched atop. Doves are the dunces of our bird population. Every desert-dwelling driver has struck a dove that was perched in the road and too dumb to get out of the way.





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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Don't Get Your Undies In A Bunch

From now until the end of June I suspect that my posts will center on the heat and my lack of interest in my job. It is far more difficult to maintain any interest in the job than I imagined it would be. I am being forced to attend an all-day training session tomorrow. Does it make sense to train a guy who is quitting anyway? I don't think so. The training is at an off-site location and is supposed to last until five. I'm guessing I won't make it that long. On the heat front, it is hot. I was out in the back a few moments ago and the plants are suffering. I will have to move the watering frequency to daily or they will perish. I stopped at the grocery store today on my way to the office to get some fruit. I went to pay and the only register open was manned (maybe it's womaned) by a beautiful young woman, maybe 23 or 24 years old. She was very friendly, asking me about how I liked the items that I was buying and that sort of thing. Really quite chatty, which an old guy like me appreciates. After I finished paying and she had bagged my purchase, she turned her back to me so that she could talk to a passing coworker. This left her well-proportioned behind a couple of feet in front of me. She reached behind herself, grabbed a handful of pants and pulled her underwear out of her crack. Very disconcerting and not the kind behavior a guy wants to see. If she realized I was still watching she never let on. 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 judgmental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor

Mother's Day

My mom as she looked in her early 20's. Mom died in 1988, she was just 63-years old.




















The lovely Mrs. Sneed received these lovely hydrangeas from our oldest son and daughter-in-law. they will have to be an indoor plant because our summer is just too hot, even in the shade.



We all went our for breakfast today to honor all the mother's in the Sneed clan. We sat outside on the patio and it was a tad warm, but not too much so.

Sneedlet One was a bit of a handful. He has been a little sick for the past few days and I think he was tired. I took the little boys for our traditional walk around the plaza where the restaurant is located. By the time we came back to the table, they both were red in the face from the heat.

I am doing what all sensible desert dwellers do in the heat of the day, which is to sit in whatever coolness you can find. The lovely Mrs. Sneed is taking a well-deserved nap.

Tomorrow is back to work. Thirty-five work days left, not that I am counting or anything.




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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Golfing

For second straight day, it was a hundred degrees F. At nine pm it is still ninety-one degrees. Spring, why have you forsaken us?

We played golf this morning at a place called Quail Creek, one of those master planned communities for the over-50 set. I continue to be not be such a good golfer. Luckily, I don't rely on my golf game to eat.

Quail Creek is a beautiful little community, complete with all the amenities the comfortably retired folks look for. They have the golf course, a big swimming complex, a tennis center, a community center, and a gate, with a security guard to keep guys like me out. Plus it is literally miles from nowhere.

I heard a real estate agent from Las Vegas explain that a master planned community isn't truly complete without a guard at the gate. A community with a remote-controlled gate is considered second-rate. The old guy in the booth makes all the difference in the perception of the development. Since the community is private, they also have a quasi-police outfit called the Quail Creek Patrol, a bunch of rent-a-cops in pickups, who drive around giving the residents the impression that they are safe within their enclave.

It seems to me that you do yourself a disservice if you surround yourself with people exactly like you, but to each his own.

There were 100 or so golfers in the tournament this morning and the members of the Quail Creek Country Club were none too happy with our presence. There was quite a bit of grumbling by the members that showed up in their cute little golf carts, only to find that the rabble had overrun their little domain.

One grumpy old man was heard to ask why they would hold the tournament on a Saturday? I wonder why he would care, since it is apparent that everyday is Saturday to the happy retirees at Quail Creek?

It is still not clear to me what organization benefited from the proceeds of the event, but judging from the fact that about 75% of the participants were Hispanic, I'm guessing it was a Hispanic organization. I'm not completely sure that the members of the country club had ever seen Hispanic golfers before. Quail Creek is about 95% Anglo during the day and 100% Anglo after dark when the help has gone home.

Without tournaments booking their course, the cost of membership would be higher, so we are really helping them out, while having a good time ourselves, although it doesn't seem as though they saw it that way.

Our foursome today included me, The Sea Food King, Some Guy Named Bob, and a dentist that I have never met before. The dentist was an interesting guy. He is seventy-one and plans to continue with his dental practice as long as he is able. He says he really likes being a dentist and can't imagine retiring. I admire someone who has found his calling.

Sneedlet One was waiting for me to come home and was as glad to see me, as I was to see him. Since it was hot we stayed inside this afternoon. We played a little game where we lay on the bed watching television. I try to get a quick nap and he pokes me periodically to make sure I don't.

He is presently torturing his grandmother, which works out well for me.

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 judgmental and cranky



Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Jennifer of the Flawed and Disorderly blog (Upper left in photo) poses with relatives upon her safe arrival in Oklahoma.


Many of your prominent bloggers have taken the weekend off to travel to visit their mothers, leaving us to fend for ourselves blog-wise.

Here at the Sneed blog, our motto is, Neither criticism, nor cajoling, nor threats, nor appeals to our last remaining shred of humanity, will keep us from our appointed rants. Our blogging will continue despite Mother's Day. Of course it doesn't hurt that Grandmother Sneed died in 1988, she being the last one who welcomed a visit from yours truly.

I officially notified Randall Bing that I would indeed be leaving on June 29. I cannot tell you how good it feels to have made that decision. Randall is really a pretty good guy and rather than discouraging me from retiring he has been supportive.

I have to get up early tomorrow because the Sea Food King is coming over at six am, so that we can pick up Some Guy Named Bob and go play golf in a fund-raising deal. I am sure it is a worthy cause, although I have no idea what it is. With my luck it will turn out to be to benefit some organization that makes my skin crawl, like the Friends of Our Lady of Guadalupe or something.

The tournament is being played in Green Valley, Arizona, which is an enclave of the elderly, most the well-to-do elderly. The golf courses there are first-rate, but it is a forty mile drive from my house, which I could live without.






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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Thursday

I was awarded this lovely trophy today at a special golf luncheon that was held in my honor. I defeated several famous golfers, whose names you might recognize. They asked that I not post their names because it might harm their careers.


Another day of playing golf with the Sea Food King, Sea Food, Jr. and some guy named Bob. I hit the ball much better today, but I still didn't score all that well.

The worst part of the day was that it was ninety-five degrees and Sea Food King insisted upon walking the course. I am too old for that and now I am pretty sure that I have heat stroke. I could have taken a cart, but it would seem weird following him slowly.

The best part of the day was in the office this morning when my coworker asked if I had changed my mind about this retirement business and I was able to answer with an emphatic no. Then I wandered around telling everyone I met that I am leaving. Priceless.

Now that the end is near for the old career at Tedious Systems, June 29th seems like it is a long way away. I will try not to burn bridges by being a total slacker, but it will be a challenge to do so. I have officially lost interest in my job.

Anyway, I have nothing to say, so I will stop saying it.






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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

I Quit

The trumpet vines are in bloom. I thought the photo of the developing buds was interesting.



A couple of things of note happened to me today. First and definitely least important, I bowled a 300 game tonight. It is the first time I have bowled a 300 game so it was exciting.

On to the bigger news. I marched into Randall Bing's office today and gave my notice. Unless I die or chicken out before June 29th, I am retiring.

Randall took it about like I expected that he would. He asked if I meant it, was I going to change my mind, etc.? Then he told me to take a week to really think it over and get back to him. I felt like I was in a Seinfeld episode, the one where George tries to break up with a woman and she won't allow it.

I am nervous about retiring because of the money. Mostly the money anyway. As Ched correctly guessed, I am turning the numbers over and over in my pea brain, thinking of various scenarios. The last thing I want to happen after 38 years of saving and sacrifice is to wind up at the senior center waiting for free cheese. Or worse.

I have thought about part time work that might interest me. I need a gig that allows me to be free Monday and Wednesday evenings for bowling, Thursday for golf, Saturday to spend the day with Sneedlet One and Sunday to spend time with the kids and both Sneedlets. Then I remember that I already have a job like that, the one I am quitting. Should I just stay? Fortunately, I am able to quickly summon up the million things that bug me about my job and thoughts of staying fly away.

I realistically think I will substitute teach when the school year starts up. I could do that on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays and still maintain my busy social schedule.

I will bore you with this subject for the next seven weeks. Stand by.



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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Our Day In Court

Pretenders to the title of Bestest Cat Around.













D. Chedwick Bryant, the smartest, hippest cat in the land, identified the flowers on my blog yesterday, as foxglove. Thanks Ched, is there anything you don't know?

Some folks wondered about yesterday's comment that I went to work intending to give Randall Bing my notice. Several wondered if that meant I was retiring. I wondered that myself. I think it does. Mrs. Sneed has been goading me to give the notice, mostly because she is weary of my incessant complaining about my crappy job.

As I sit here now, I fully intend to retire on June 30, 2007. However please understand that my decision to retire is like deciding to swim in a cold pool; it is a gradual process that is eased into rather than leaped into. Do not be surprised if I chicken out between then and now.

I can think of a lot of good reason to keep working, mostly centering on the money. On the other hand each unsatisfying day at work, is one I can't get back.

We went to court today, young Sneed and me. It was very stressful for him, but turned out to be a better experience than we thought.

We were in arraignment court. That is where people who have been ordered to appear for criminal traffic violations get to hear the charges and punishments they face, the deals the prosecutor is willing to offer and are given the chance to plead guilty or not, to the charges.

There were approximately 100 people in the courtroom, half defendants and half well-wishers. The first thing you notice about the people present is that they are overwhelmingly non-Anglo, young and poor. We live in a city that is one-third Hispanic, but easily ninety percent of those in the courtroom were Hispanic. This says a lot about our society.

The proceeding kicked off with a lawyer from the Public Defender's office telling all present what the drill would be. He told us that almost everyone present was there because they had committed a moving traffic violation, which lead to the discovery that they had either no license, registration or insurance or some combination of the three. There were three DUI defendants and one guy who was arrested for drag-racing.

The Public Defender called out each name and read the charges. He then explained what that defendant's options were. The most common infraction was no insurance. He told those people that they could plead guilty, get some insurance and the fine would be $108. If they plead not guilty to the charge and could not show proof of insurance within 90 days, they faced a fine of $588. The problem most of these folks face is that the fine is far cheaper than what insurance would cost them. If you are only nailed once a year, it is a deal.

After each person had heard the charges against them, the clerk of the court, called on each to plead. The "not guiltys" were given their next court date and sent home. The "guiltys" made arrangements to pay their fines and their cases were put on hold while they tried to drum up some insurance. The same was true for the no license defendants. Get a license and pay a small fine. No license, big fine.

When the Public Defender called on Son Sneed, he told him that the prosecutor could not offer a plea agreement because they were waiting on test results. We turned and looked at one another. It dawned on us that if they are waiting on test results that don't exist, they don't have a case. Son Sneed turned to me raised his hand and said, "high-five". He could have said it quieter.

We spoke to the public defender in the courtroom about young Sneed's medical issues, he talked to the judge and she assigned Sneed a court-appointed lawyer and sent his case to the court for mentally ill defendants. He will have to schedule an appointment with his lawyer to discuss the case. He has a pretrial conference on June 6, at which time I think they will have to drop the case against him. My very uninformed opinion.

This will leave only the hearing with the Department of Motor Vehicles to contend with. In Arizona if the cops ask you to take a urine or blood test and you refuse or don't complete it, you automatically lose your license for a year, regardless of the validity of the underlying charges.

What I learned in court today is that poor people tend not to have car insurance. That makes perfect sense I guess, given the cost of insurance.

This leads to being caught in a giant whirlpool of legal troubles that drag them down and down. Someone gets caught with no insurance and loses his license. Then he gets caught driving without a license or on a suspended one, with no insurance and it gets deeper and deeper. This is not to excuse the uninsured driver or the driver without a license. They are idiots. Desperate idiots, struggling idiots, but still idiots.

Where I do sympathize with these folks is that the cops tend to pile it on them when they catch them. Almost every defendant had some piss ant ticket for no light on the rear plate or a malfunctioning headlight, in addition to the other charges. This is just the cops being a-holes. When a guy is facing $700 in fines and the probability that he won't be insurable in this century, a citation for a burned out bulb seems excessive.

Anyway, young Sneed is feeling good about where he stands and that is important.

Important Clarification!

Mrs. Sneed just read my post and wants me to correct my assertion that she is tired of my bitching. She would like it known that her only concern is my happiness and that if the job has me down, I should bag it with her blessing.














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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

These flowers look like a beehive hanging from the tree. They are really growing on on a very sturdy stalk. I don't know what kind of flowers they are. Perhaps you do.




I'm late with my posting today. It has been a full day.

I have shared with some folks already that I called the city prosecutor's office today and found out that our town has a special court to handle the cases of people with mental illness. The court is presided over by the judge that convinced the city to implement court several years ago. I think this bodes well for son Sneed.

The poor fellow went to the psychiatrist today and they have adjusted his medications because he is complaining of hearing voices and seeing things. Hopefully, the prosecutor will see the folly in trying him for this dumb arrest. At the moment son Sneed is optimistic and in good spirits.

Son Sneed and I have to appear at his arraignment tomorrow at one-thirty. He has to plead not guilty and they are going to assign a public defender. We will see how that works out.

I went to work this morning with the intention of giving Randall Bing my notice. I spoke with him and he has asked me to give him ninety days notice. He says it will take that long to hire a competent replacement. I don't want to be unfair to him, but at the same time, it is not my fault that we are so short-staffed that there is no one to assume my duties.

Sneedlet One spent his first day in preschool today. This was a big day for him. Daughter Sneed said he walked in and made himself at home. No problems.









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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Gatatoes

I was just watching the golf tournament on television. Towards the end of play today, the camera caught Tiger Woods grimacing and grabbing at his knee after he hit a shot. The scyophantic announcers suggested that all the waiting around, due to slow play today, was hard on Tiger. The poor baby should have to play at a municipal course, behind a bunch of hackers sometime. That gives slow a new meaning. Tiger Woods is inarguably the greatest golfer ever, but I have a hard time loving him as much as these adoring TV guys.








This is a picture of Sneedlet One and my Merrill slip ons, which he refers to as our gatatoes, his variation of potatoes. No one is sure where he picked up calling them potatoes, but one day he just announced that he was putting my "gatatoes" in the closet for me.

I love my Merrill slip ons because men have gotten the short end of this shoelace business for too long. Anything I can put on my feet without tying is a-one by me.

I took Sneedlet to the mall to play yesterday and since I was too lazy to put his tennis shoes on him, I made him wear a pair of cheapo Old Navy flip-flops. He tried to tell me that they didn't fit, but I ignored him. They proved to be a disaster, a fact I discovered only after we were in the store. We had to backtrack to find a missing flip-flop about ten times. I hauled him to the kid's shoe department to find better flip-flops, ones with straps in the back. Once he laid eyes on toddler-sized gatatoes, it was a done deal.

My decision to not tie his tennis shoes was a forty-six dollar mistake in judgment. I proved again that it is the laziest man who does the most work and the cheapest man that spends the most.





I posted a picture of a desert willow yesterday that I took off the internet. I went next door this morning and got a real photo.








This is a picture of the desert willow blossoms blanketing Tracey's yard. It is interesting how the shadows play on the pink background.









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 judgmental and cranky



Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Desert Willow

This is a picture of a desert willow tree that I swiped from the Texas Agriculture Experiment Station website. It is like the one in my next door neighbor Tracey's yard. It is not a true willow tree, but is related to the bignonia species, which includes trumpet vine varieties. The "willow" in its name is from the willow-like leaves on this plant.













My best pal Sneedlet One and I spent a very busy day today. I had to pick him up early because his mother had an appointment at ten thirty this morning. It was at some fancy chick spa. I asked her what she was getting done and she gave me a prolonged sigh and some advice about not asking personal questions. Geez, I thought it was a hair, makeup, nail place. Now I am left wondering what sort of sordid business goes on there.

Speaking of businesses, sordid and otherwise, the way people figure out how to make a living fascinates me. Sneedlet One and I were at the mall today and we walked by a business that has sprung in one of the areas where pedestrians gather, right outside a department store. The business is about ten Asian-American persons giving massages. They have about ten of those massage chairs you sort of knell in. Who thought of that? Even though I am not the sort of fellow who gets massages, there are plenty of folks who do.

Someone is always finding a new angle on things. Unfortunately, that someone is never me.

Tom Peters the business expert and co-author of In Search of Excellence talks about the law of intended use. He says that when something is invented a use for the invention will spring up that no one anticipated. This always provides and opportunity for the innovators to find a niche. Peters uses the example of zip lock bags which started with food storage in mind, but now has a zillion other uses.

Take the carabiner as another example. In case you are not familiar with that term, a carabiner is a safety device used in rock and mountain climbing mostly. Unless you are a climber, you are most familiar with it as the things guys with lots of keys use to hook them to their belt loops. Makers of cellphone and camera cases, key rings and many other consumer goods have latched, onto the idea of the carabiner for other hanging-related needs. Brilliant.

Sneedlet and I also spent some time working in the back yard today, although we abandoned the idea sooner than we would have liked because it was very windy. It is also cooler than we would expect it to be at this time of the year, which is fantastic.

My neighbor Tracy, who you will remember a the lovely young woman next door who jilted me for some handsome young guy with aa Porsche, has a giant desert willow tree in her front yard. The tree is covered in pink flowers this time of the year. That, in combination with the high wind, has left our front yard with a pink blanket.

One important thing we did accomplish today was that we bought sunflower seeds to fill the bird feeder. Eddie has pestered me relentlessly to get some seeds, so now he will be satisfied. We got sunflower seeds that were already shelled and chopped to make it easy for the birds (and passing squirrels) to eat. I am just an old tree-hugger at heart.






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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Friday

Isn't this a nice flower?










This must be one of Ched's relatives. Kitty has taken up residence in our back yard. I sprayed it with the hose but it just came back. Kidding.


Here's another thing about human behavior that intrigues me. I listen to the Dave Ramsey show on my Ipod. Dave has a financial show where he teaches people about getting out of debt, changing their habits, and some other stuff.

Dave is forever taking calls from women (mostly), trying to help out their new boyfriend/husband with the debt problems that accrued during his last marriage. You know, the one where he was married to that "psycho bitch"? Everything was HER fault. They are full of excuses about why their new guy was just a darn victim. It's funny how hope springs eternal that the husband/boyfriend will be better at these financial and marriage things this time around. When they say love is blind, they mean it.

Younger Son Sneed and I went to see an attorney today about his bogus DUI charge. I got the lawyer's name from an internet referral site. Evidently I picked the most expensive guy in town. It will cost plenty to have him get poor Sneed out of this mess. He did say that he would help us find a good lawyer who works cheaper.

The attorney was cautiously optimistic about his chances of be vindicated, but poor Son Sneed only heard the pessimistic parts and is very depressed.



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 judgmental and cranky


Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor

Sickness Ain't All That

Perhaps you have been sick at one time or another. That is a joke that I will get back to in a minute. I am sick today. Did that stop me from playing golf with the Seafood King? No siree. I hiked eighteen holes, in the wind, feeling like crap. My mother always said I didn't have good sense. Plus rumors that the new clubs would improve my play are unfounded. Maybe this has happened to you. You get chummy with a couple and find that one person is perfectly lovely and the other, usually the husband, is insufferable. I can think of three couples we've been friends with that fit that description. When I say that we were friends with these couples, that is a stretch, because I am more willing to overlook the shortcomings of these folks than is the Lovely Mrs. Sneed. She might not classify us a friends because has more good sense than me. We met this couple, Mike and Barbara, back in the days when we were church types. Mrs. Sneed grew up in religious family and her upbringing carried on in our family for years, before dying out like the seed that fell on rocky soil. Anyway, that's how we met these folks. Mike and Barbara had been around church-wise. They had tried out many denominations and found nothing that suited them. They had some sort of void in their lives they were desperate to fill. The problems generally centered around Mike who was the pain in the equation. He had trouble staying out of trouble, job-wise, church-wise and every other-wise. Mike would say the most idiotic things just out of the blue. It would leave you staring at him trying to figure out if he was kidding. He once as asked us if we had ever had lemonade. Looked us right in the eye and asked. It was made doubly bizarre by the fact that Mrs. Sneed had mixed up the batch of lemonade that he was drinking. Another problem was that Mike lied about all things great and small. The all-time whopper was told when he applied for an overseas job and relocated to another state to undergo a year's training, prior to being posted. The job was assignment was in a location not suitable for children, so persons with kids were not eligible to be hired. Mike's solution? He lied about it figuring that at the end of the year the employer would be so impressed with him that they would waive the no-kid rule. He got 86ed. Anyway, when I opened this post with the question, have you ever been sick, I'm remembering old Mike and Barbara and wonder what became of them. A lasting part of Sneed lore includes the question, "Have you ever had lemonade?" So here's the question. Does "couple friends" work for you? 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 judgmental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor