Big Money Headed This Way

Regular readers may recall the top picture from earlier this month. The white car had become stranded in a wash (natural drainage area). My silver truck is parked at the bottom of the wash.
















This is a picture that I took this picture afternoon after a big storm. It is taken from the same spot where the white car was parked in the first photo.






I received this email today. It looks as if I will soon be coming into a large sum of money and I will be sharing it with all my blog friends. As a precaution, don't order the new cars and big screen television sets just yet. This fellow seems honest and sincere, but can you really ever be sure?

DEAR FRIEND,

I KNOW THAT THIS MESSAGE WILL COME TO YOU AS A SURPRISE. I AM THE BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER IN BANK OF AFRICA (BOA), OUAGADOUGOU BURKINA FASO. I HOPED THAT YOU WILL NOT EXPOSE OR BETRAY THIS TRUST AND CONFIDENT THAT I AM ABOUT TO REPOSE ON YOU FOR THE MUTUAL BENEFIT OF OUR FAMILIES. I NEED YOUR URGENT ASSISTANCE IN TRANSFERRING THE SUM OF (USD$25) MILLION TO YOUR ACCOUNT WITHIN 10 TO 14 BANKING DAYS. THIS MONEY HAS BEEN DORMANT FOR YEARS IN OUR BANK WITHOUT CLAIM. I WANT THE BANK TO RELEASE THE MONEY TO YOU AS THE NEAREST PERSON TO OUR DECEASED CUSTOMER (THE OWNER OF THE ACCOUNT) DIED ALONG WITH HIS SUPPOSED NEXT OF KIN IN AN AIR CRASH SINCE JULY, 2000. I DON'T WANT THE MONEY TO GO INTO OUR BANK TREASURER ACCOUNT AS AN ABANDONED FUND. SO THIS IS THE REASON WHY I CONTACTED YOU SO THAT THE BANK CAN RELEASE THE MONEY TO YOU AS THE NEXT OF KIN TO THE DECEASED CUSTOMER. PLEASE I WOULD LIKE YOU TO KEEP THIS PROPOSAL AS A TOP SECRET AND DELETE IT IF YOU ARE NOT INTERESTED. UPON RECEIPT OF YOUR REPLY, I WILL GIVE YOU FULL DETAILS ON HOW THE BUSINESS WILL BE EXECUTED AND ALSO NOTE THAT YOU WILL HAVE 30% OF THE ABOVE MENTIONED SUM IF YOU AGREE TO HANDLE THIS BUSINESS WITH ME? AND 10% WILL BE SET ASIDE FOR ANY EXPENSES THAT WARRANT ON THE PROCESS BEFORE THE FUND GET INTO YOUR BANK ACCOUNT SUCH AS TELEPHONE CALLS BILLS (ETC).

BEST REGARD.
YUSUF MUSA

As you can read it is important that we keep this among ourselves for the time being.

In other news, I went out at noon to play golf with my pal, the Seafood King. We got in nine holes before the skies opened up and they decided to close the course. We sat in the clubhouse for an hour waiting for it to stop raining. Now many of our street are flooded to the point of being impassable and many unlucky motorists are stranded in intersections. What a mess.










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

Ashley's Mom

Long time readers know that from time to time I can be kind of petty and sort of mean. This is about to be one of those times. I understand that many people try to look their best. I don't personally try that hard, but many people do. I happen to think that aging gracefully is part of looking your best. Some people don't agree, some people like say...Ashley's Mom. I encountered Ashley's Mom this morning in my travels to a major university located here in our fair city. Ashley seemed to me to be a woman in her early twenties. Ashley's Mom's age was not ascertainable by the layman. A trained archaeologist could have used carbon dating or something to get an exact fix. Now that's just mean and I'll edit that out later. I'm going to guess she was in her middle forties. She was desperately trying to look thirty, and a youthful thirty at that. Ashley's Mom breezed into the waiting area where I was, well, waiting. She was both preceded by and trailed by her giant mane of blond hair. When I say blond, I really mean a shade of blond that is created in a laboratory and not in nature. It swept back, with nary a hair out of place. She took a seat directly across from me, leaving me no choice but to gawk. Every time the poor woman glanced up we locked eyes. I couldn't stop staring. God knows I tried, but I'm only human. Ashley's Mom was wearing a tight black top from a famous designer label. It accentuated her boob job nicely. Wait, my lawyer says that I have to use the phrase, "alleged boob job". She carried the matching black Hoodie, in case of draft. Her pants were also black and very tight. Footwear was some type of expensive black sandals, with bangles. The entire ensemble was topped off by a black tote, I believe it was the Prada Leather Pocket Tote, $1595 retail. Then there was the face lift, uh, alleged face lift, which left her face allegedly unnaturally tight. She had a strange crease starting at one ear, running beneath her chin, to the other ear. Her lips had a permanent pursed look, possibly from collagen. These factors combined to give her voice an odd tone. Ashley's Mom passed her time reading, and I am not making this up, a catalog from a famous intimate apparel supplier and seemed delighted by its contents. It was all very curious. Speaking as a guy, when I see someone like Ashley's Mom, I'm just glad I don't have to pay the upkeep. She is probably a very nice woman, but someone should convince her that time waits for no man...or woman. Of course, if she is as mean as me she will have gone home and complained about the crusty old vagrant who kept staring at her like he had never seen class before. 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

The festivities surrounding Daughter Sneed's birthday continued today with a breakfast celebration. Of course two very handsome fellows were in attendance.









Long time readers know that a regular part of the birthday routine involves me walking the Sneedlets around the plaza where the restaurant is located. As they get older, it has become them running away and me hustling after them yelling stop.

At one end of the plaza there is a Honey Baked Ham Store. This poster was in the window, advertising some special deal. This is a very disturbing picture. Evidently, a ham can talk, or a least it has lips. Who knew? We left before it came through the window and attacked us.















As always, Cletus Sneed was absent, at least in body. He has absolutely no idea when his sibling's or parent's birthdays occur. He did call this morning, though.

Cletus is always in search of forty dollars, the amount needed to buy drugs, we figure. He used to ask for forty bucks outright, but since we told him we were on to him, he tries harder to disguise his requests.

Today his story was that his former girl friend and mother of his three children needed $100, but he only had $60. Therefore he want to "get"...wait for it...$40, that's right. He promised to do some work for me to pay it back. I don't have work that needs doing, even if I thought he would actually do it. I suggested that if the girl friend needed money and he only had sixty, it sounded as if she would get sixty. He hung up.

Other than Cletus, all the kids and their families were in attendance, so it was a really nice time.





















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

Today is Daughter Sneed's birthday, so happy birthday to her. We will all be going out after a bit to celebrate.

Daughter Sneed was born at 5:22 pm on July 28, 1970. I very nearly missed the entire affair because I was working and my boss didn't want to bother me with the news that the lovely Mrs. Sneed had called the office looking for me because she needed to go to the hospital. Rather than bothering me and taking me away from my important work, my boss dropped her at the hospital. When I say dropped her off, I mean he literally dropped her off.

When I couldn't reach her by phone in the afternoon, I drove home to discover that she was gone and the dog was in the house, a bad sign. I called my dispatcher and he told me what was up. I made it to the hospital with 20 minutes to spare.

We are having another torrential downpour this today. On the way home a minute ago, I passed an intersection that the fire department had blocked off because of high water. There was a Mercedes in the middle of the flood, with water at window level. Evidently, someone was stuck inside.



According to my makeshift rain gauge, we have had two and a half inches of rain today. This saucer was emptied at five last evening.

There was a horrific helicopter crash yesterday in Phoenix. Perhaps you saw it on the news. About five news helicopters were covering a police chase and two of them collided. Four news employees were killed. What the heck is so important about the police chasing a guy, that warrants five helicopters following it? An excess that turned tragic.

The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob, Another Guy Named Bob and I played in a fund-raising golf event this morning at one of the local country clubs. It was great fun and we finished playing just as the torrent began.

The tournament benefited the Boys and Girls Clubs, so there were some minor local celebs in attendance. We don't have any real celebrities here in our fair city since Linda Rondstat got pissed at us for being a bunch of small town hicks and moved to San Francisco, but we make do the best we can. Paul McCartney used to live here, but I don't know that he still does.

Our celebrity player was a local news anchor guy who works for the CBS affiliate. He was a genuinely nice guy and a lot of fun to be around. I asked him what he thought of the helicopter crash and he said that he knew two of the people personally. I think that if the news has to cover these high-speed chases, then maybe there should be one helicopter with a pool feed for all the stations. At least it would eliminate the congestion. Better yet, they could stop putting this stuff on the news altogether, but I suppose that once you invest in a helicopter, you have to use it for something.

So, I am off to the birthday celebration. We will be bringing Sneedlet One home with us, so it will be a busy evening around here.







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

We wouldn't let him drive home.















Thursday is golf day. The usual suspects were all present and accounted for. The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob, Charlie and I played at the oldest of our city courses. The weather was fair and we had a really good time. Even though I am not a really good golfer, I felt especially pleased about my play today. Can't ask for more than that.

I was listening to an old talk given by Alan Watts about our search for the purpose of our lives. I'm not nearly smart enough to explain Watts' ideas on the meaning of life, but I am smart enough to kind of know what he means.

Perhaps you've had this experience. You're reading a book or an article or even a blog and you are so anxious to get to the payoff, that you race through, skipping over the words, in search of the meaning. I do that all the time. We kind of live our lives that way. Rush, rush, rush, looking for something...else.

In my one month of retirement I'll bet that I have been asked 25 times how long I will be able to keep busy without a job. The assumption is that without a job, my life has no real meaning and that I will be bored. Some have even predicted that I have begun a slow slide toward...what was it again Kurt?

What I do know is that tomorrow morning Son Sneed and I will drive to his therapy appointment. I will get to sit and listen to my iPod for a couple of hours while I wait. Then I will go have lunch with my good friend Lonnie. When I get home I will do some housework, perhaps take a nap and wait for the lovely Mrs. Sneed to come home.

At the very least, the meaning of life is living life at the moment, so I'll go with that.













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

They Are Not My Fender Skirts

It seems that I just can't shake this car business. The questions keep pouring in.

Squirrel asks, "How come you bought a Honda anyway? Did you get a good deal on it? Did you buy it new? "

Let me answer those in order. (a) It is a Toyota. (b) It is not my car. (c) See previous answer.

Reader Squirrel asks, "Did you teach your pet monkey to golf or did he already know how to golf?"

Ah, Squirrel, Squirrel. It is a Chimp and not generally classified as a monkey, but a great ape. It is not my chimp and besides I can't even teach me to play golf, let alone a chimp.

Reader Squirrel asks, "Does your Honda get good gas mileage?"

Squirrel, if by my Honda, you mean the lovely Mrs. Sneed's Honda Pilot, then the answer is that it gets so-so mileage. If you mean our 1999 Honda Civic, then yes, it gets terrific mileage. If you mean the car in the photo, I would remind you that it is a Toyota and not my car.

Keep those questions coming folks. I do so enjoy answering them.

Speaking of cars, I am known for my disdain for the PT Cruiser, among the stupidest looking cars on the road. If you own a PT Cruiser, I both apologize for being offensive and sympathize with you about what ails you.

Chrysler intended for the PT Cruiser to be targeted at young males. I'm not sure who did their market research though, because the young male car buyer turned up his nose at this stink bomb. Fortunately, there was a market for the PT Cruiser, despite Chrysler's misguided marketing strategy.

PT Cruisers tend to be purchased by the late middle-aged and elderly drivers, perhaps as a throw back to their salad days. It has also enjoyed a better-than-expected reception from single women.

As garish as the PT Cruiser is in its unaltered state, some people try to customize it, with hilarious results. Not unlike lipstick on a pig.

















I spied this obscenity in the parking lot of the hospital this morning when I took Son Sneed for his treatment. It prominently displayed a handicapped placard, most likely proving my point about the elderly and the PT Cruiser.

Fender skirts?













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

Evening Update

Son Sneed and I went to the grocery store tonight just as a big storm hit our area. We arrived home to find our Desert Willow tree damaged by the high wind.





A few people have asked questions about the car parked at the front door of the doctor's office that I posted yesterday. I am going to take a minute to answer them now.


Q. Is that your car?
A. That is not my car.

Q. Weren't you worried about blocking handicapped access to the office?
A. That is not my car.

Q. Where is your back license plate?
A. That is not my car.

Q. Thanks for supporting the troops (not really a question).
A. That is not my car.

I hope this clears things 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

Clarification

Since insinuations have swirled this morning I would like to clear something up.




Not Mine.















Mine.


















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

More Monsoon Madness

This time of the year you're going to get posts about our monsoon storms.

We had a huge storm this afternoon that dropped a couple of inches of rain in about an hour. It was notable because of the size of the storm. Pretty much all areas of town got hit with a deluge.

I mentioned yesterday that there is a steady supply of imbeciles that don't understand that you can't drive a car through four foot deep water. That didn't stop this woman from trying.

Photo by Aaron J. Latham/Arizona Daily Star

















Downtown, in our fair city we have two underpasses that date to the early 1900s. They have inadequate drainage and fill with water to a depth of 8 feet when it rains like it did today. Invariably someone ignores the clearly marked depth indicator and get his or her car totally submerged. We had one of those today.

Son Sneed had a doctor's appointment this afternoon and when we left for it, the storm was really building. I took these pictures from our front yard.





























My favorite sight today was this guy, who decided that getting out of the car in the rain was for suckers. He drove right up the sidewalk at the doctor's office and parked on the porch.



























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

Monsoon

We are in the midst of our monsoon season. It is a wet monsoon because a shift in our winds brings moisture from the Gulf of Mexico to our region. The pattern of our storms is for them to develop in the late afternoon and to dump heavy rainfall, accompanied by high winds over a relatively short period of time. Our monsoon season lasts from early July into September. We get more than half our annual rainfall during this period.

Our monsoon storms are hit and miss. Some areas of town are hard hit and others, even those nearby, get missed. More rain falls closer to the mountains than down in our valley.

We had the first big storm of the year in our part of town last night. It started at about 7 pm and lasted a couple of hours. I think we got around an inch and a half of rain.

Heavy rainfall here in the desert fill the natural drainage ways quickly. They can create dangerous situations.












In fact, we have a law called the Stupid Motorist Law, that was named for the boneheads who try to drive through the flooded washes.



The owner of this car was caught in the Alamo Wash last evening. I don't know if this car was pulled out or made it this far before dying. I parked my truck, seen in the background, at the bottom of the wash. You can see how deep the water can get at this crossing.




Trees are among the casualties of the high winds. Non-native trees, like this California Pepper tree are more susceptible to wind damage than native plants.

People here plant the California Pepper tree because it tolerates drought and poor soil. The tree does well here, right up to the time that they succumb to the high winds. Then it becomes clear that planting this tree wasn't a great idea.

The tree has two big problems. First, its roots are shallow, because it has adapted to catch water quickly. Secondly, it doesn't drop its leaves in drought conditions. Instead its branches hollow out to minimize the need for water. Both adaptations contribute to the plant falling victim to the wind.

You can see the shallow roots in the picture. This tree snapped off at ground level.

The forecast was for more rain this afternoon, but it didn't materialize, at least in our neighborhood.






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

The Late Tammy Faye

This is going to seem really mean.

There is no one that I hold in more contempt than a televangelist phony (redundant?). There is something especially vile about these people because they violate the deepest trust people have to offer them. They present themselves as special emissaries of the deity and credulous people fork over their hard-earned cash to curry their favor and that of their god. It is disgusting.

Tammy Faye Bakker died today. A better person than me could think of something nice to say about her or a least muster a bit of sympathy for her loved ones, but I am not that nice.

Tammy Faye was just another garden variety charlatan running a religious scam. She and her creepy ex-husband enriched themselves on the backs of the desperate and the gullible. They lived the high life with their hand in the pockets of the poor and the elderly. They preyed upon people's deepest fear, the fear of mortality, to live like royalty.

Then, apparently not having learned her lesson with Jim Bakker, she married one of his crooked associates, also a jailbird. Until her health completely failed her Tammy Faye continued to hustle for a buck. The only marketable thing left of the mighty PTL empire she and Jim Bakker created was the parody of herself that she had become, so she sold that, right to the end.

On to other matters.

If you take a toddler...wait. The lovely Mrs. Sneed tells me that the Sneedlets are no longer toddlers, but have moved to the preschoolers category, so let me start again.

If you take a preschooler to any traditional barbershop in the known universe and tell any barber that you want a regular boy's haircut, he or she will know exactly what you mean. The only issues will be tapered or blocked in the back and how short you want it. Unfortunately, the same isn't true when you go to a "stylist' or a salon or a storefront chain haircutting joint.

I was tasked with taking Sneedlet One to get a haircut today. Unfortunately, he won't go to a real barbershop, because he is convinced that you can only get your hair cut at Supercuts.

So bright and early this morning, before the crowd showed up, we went to the Supercuts location near here. Luckily, there were no customers and we got right in.

At a real men's barbershop the barber is likely to be a middle-aged to older guy who has been cutting hair his entire life and looks like your Uncle Phil. At Supercuts, the stylist is going to be a thirty-year old woman, fifty pounds overweight, with crazy hair. Ours today had hair blacker than deep space, with raspberry streaks. She also had several giant tattoos and about twenty visible body piercings . I shudder to think about what wasn't visible. She also had kind of an, "I don't really want to cut this kid's hair" attitude. Uncle Phil, at the barbershop couldn't care less about whether or not the kid wants a haircut, he's getting it cut.

I guess my age is showing. Then next cut the kid gets is going to be in the barbershop, if I'm in charge.

I told her that he needed a regular boy's haircut and she informed me that she didn't know what that was. I suggested trimming up the sides and top and tapering the back. That she seemed to get.

I'm not happy with the result. She didn't ask if we parted his hair at all, so he has a kind of Moe Howard look in the front. Square bangs, kind of short. The lovely Mrs. Sneed pronounced it "so cute", so what do I know? I'll tell you, not much.

I also awoke this morning to the news that when the irrigation came on early this morning there was a geyser on the side of the house. This according to Son Sneed who couldn't sleep and was awake all night.

My drip irrigation comes on at four in the morning, so I don't see it in action. Evidently, one of the larger pipes in the system, cracked, gushing water everywhere. This explains why our water bill was unusually high last month. It has probably been leaking for weeks.

Our system is twelve years old, so these things are not unexpected. I replaced about ten feet of pipe to be sure that I got the weak section completely and when I turned the water on, it held beautifully. Unfortunately, another leak instantly became apparent, this one under the brick patio.

In an ideal world, the pipe should be buried two feet deep. Unfortunately, we hired an ex and future convict named Kenny to install this system. Kenny buried much of the pipe very shallow, which has lead to many cases of inadvertent damage to it. This time Kenny's laziness worked to my advantage. The new leak was only 4 inches under the bricks, so once I had removed the bricks it was easy to repair the leak.

I fixed it, turned on the water and held my breath. No leaks. Sneedlet and I had to go get some sand so that I could relay the bricks. So we are back in business.

At the moment we are having a torrential downpour so I can shut off the system for at least tomorrow. Anytime we can conserve a bit of water, it is a good thing.





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

Learn Surgery From Home

Stinking dial-up.
Copyright © 2007 The Regents of The University of California.










Perhaps you have had this experience. I received an email this morning from a fellow who wants to advertise on my blog. Since I only get 25 visitors per day to my blog, it seems unlikely that I am the sort of site that advertisers covet. This smells of a scam. There are other reasons not to pursue this enticing offer.

First of all, I have accrued a sweet $14.77 using Google AdSense, and I am closing in on the magic $100 figure. At one hundred bucks they pay me the money. It has taken two years to get to $14.77, so I'm not giving up now. Google will pull their ads if I sign up with a non-Google advertiser.

Secondly, a bit of internet research uncovered this guy and his company to be a shifty payday loan operation. These high interest, short-term loans people are the scum of the earth, and only an moron who has never read my blog would send the email in the first place. But, of course I don't flatter myself by thinking that this is anything other than a mass emailing. Plus, Sneed blog readers are financially sophisticated and would never fall prey to this skunk and his ilk.

Speaking of shifty offers, I must have a potential career waiting as (a) a nurse, (b) a teacher or (c) a tester of hotel quality, because each and everyday, without exception, I get an email offering me the chance to train for these jobs. I'm thinking it could be a trick to get my money. Can you become a nurse over the internet? Or a teacher? Seems fishy, but since I am afraid to open the emails, I guess I will never know..

Son Sneed is coming home from the hospital today. It will be nice to see the guy. He will be getting his ECT on an outpatient basis for the next couple of weeks, so we will be getting up really early to drive to the hospital.

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

You Pills Are Ready, Mr. Sneed

This





Not this.
Is it me or does customer service get worse by the day? The chief reason I left my job at Tedious Systems was I grew tired of dealing with customers who were pissed off from being mistreated by my coworkers, and a boss who was too ineffective to deal with them.

I posted a few days ago that the brain trust in the Tedious Systems benefit department wasted no time in 86ing me from the health insurance plan, but took their sweet time enrolling me in the retiree insurance group. There will be no lapse in coverage, but there have been headaches in the interim.

My doctor sent two prescriptions to my neighborhood Walgreens for me. I take a couple of drugs, one to make me age artificially, so that I don't look like a twenty-year old forever and a second to to tone down my massive physique, so that I can buy clothing in stores rather than having it custom made. I suffer from a rare genetic defect called Adonis Syndrome.

If you have seen my photo, you will immediately recognize that there has been some trouble getting the dosage right. Frankly, he has overdosed me and I look like an over-the-hill train wreck. He promises this latest "tweek" will restore my good looks and youthful figure. But I digress.

I spoke with the good folks at HealthNet, my HMO, yesterday and they assured me that I was back in their system and everything was peachy, coverage-wise. So I trotted down to Walgreens, where some pharmacy technician carefully explained that I had no coverage.

"But", I offered helpfully, "I just spoke to them."

"Nope, not in the system."

Today I was sitting in my chair carefully studying the backs of my eyelids when I received a call from the Walgreens pharmacy. The super voice response system told me that my prescriptions were ready for pick up. I hustled down there and was not the least bit surprised to learn that they needed my insurance information, since according to "the computer" I have no coverage. As we all know "the computer" has the final word in all matters.

This led to a whole discussion about why they called me if I have no coverage, but that remains unclear, but clearly my fault. I drove home and came in to a ringing phone. It was the pharmacy tech calling to tell me that the insurance was straightened out and that I could come back down. Brilliant. I'll do it another day.

Thursday, as all faithful readers know, is golf day with the Seafood King, and today was no exception.

Seafood, Some Guy Named Bob, Charlie and I played today. It was unseasonably cool but humid. By 11 am when we finished it was muggy and uncomfortable. But we had fun.

Seafood's father is in town for a few days from Texas and he is a really nice old guy. He woks at a WalMart in Texas doing maintenance of some type and he loves working for WalMart. He told me that WalMart loves guys "our" age because we are reliable.

Our age? The man is seventy-two and I am fifty-seven. The doctor needs to get my pills straightened out is all I can say. For cripes sake, Seafood is fifty-one. How the hell old do I look? Oh wait, I know the answer. Seventy-two. Geez Louise.

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

Days Of My Life

My life is a damn soap opera some days. It is a good thing I have such a sunny disposition to carry me though. I got a call from a former coworker today. She actually called yesterday and left me a message, but I don't ever think to check for messages. She is moving into my old cubicle and can't figure out how to unlock a couple of filing cabinets. They were locked when I got them and I just used them as tables, so I wasn't any help. Son Sneed has decided that he is going to relinquish his drivers license for awhile. The fallout from the whole disaster with his license is that the state of Arizona wants a letter from his psychiatrist saying that he is fit to drive. He has decided that he just can't deal with the whole business right now and rather than having the license suspended, he is going to voluntarily surrender it. One of the problems for the chronically mentally ill is that there are not enough resources available to provide the optimum treatment for them. When a patient is in a community-based program, he often doesn't get to see a psychiatrist. Instead he is likely to see a social worker or nurse practitioner. In Son Sneed's case he sees a nurse practitioner, who works with a medical doctor to manage his medicines. Getting a doctor to vouch for his fitness to drive is difficult. No doctor wants that sort of liability. Add insurance companies to my list of creepy enterprises. Son Sneed got a letter from his car insurance company yesterday, which I opened in case it was urgent or something. It was a notice that he had not made the second of two payments for the period of May 1 through October 31. First thing this morning I called his company to explain that he was in the hospital and to ask if I could make the payment over the phone for him. The helpful representative told me that she could not talk to me because of privacy policies. It's fricking car insurance, not bank records. Everyone is worried about the privacy. I asked to talk to her supervisor and the helpful representative smugly told me that the supervisor would tell me the same thing, so it would be a waste of time to speak to her. I finally demanded to talk to the supervisor, who actually was very helpful. It seems that despite the fact that the letter said payment must be made IMMEDIATELY, it is really not due until August 23rd. Her advice was not to sweat it. My advice is don't send out these annoying letters if you don't mean it. I also got a very interesting phone call this morning concerning the former girlfriend of Cletus Sneed. This woman is also the mother of the Sneed granddaughters and an all around bum. Caller left a message say that he needed to speak with her and asked for a call back. Thinking it was a bill collector, I called him back to ask that he not call me any more about Ms. Deadbeat. I don't want to know about or be involved in the drama of her life or Cletus's life, for that matter. As my brother once said, "I don't need any more people thinking I'm white trash." Amen. To my surprise, the caller was not a bill collector; He was a private investigator. It seems that the girl has gone missing with the kids in tow and someone, I suspect her folks, has hired a PI to find her. Mrs. Sneed always cautioned against becoming attached to the little girls for this very reason. She was right, of course. I feel so sad for these children. 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 read an article this morning about a survey done by the Pew Research Center concerning working mothers and their desire to work full time. Now don't get me wrong, I am in favor of women working, especially those with husbands sitting at home all day not earning a dime, like me. Poor Mrs. Sneed leaves home at 7:30 am most days, and does not return home until 10:00 pm. She works her nurse gig from 8 am to 5 pm or so and then hustles to her counseling deal. This is a level of industry that is foreign to me, but I digress. The survey showed that 60% of working mothers would like to work part time in an ideal world. This is one of my favorite topics, because many, many women who think that they have to work to help support their families, are just plain wrong. To be sure many mothers do have to work to help make ends meet, but too often they are working to support an SUV or some other toy. Toss in daycare cost for a kiddo or two and a bit of cash for other dependents such as Uncle Sam, buy some gas and insurance for the buggy and soon it is costing money to have the job, or at least not improving the family finances that much. While I'm talking finances, these mortgage lenders and credit card guys continue to surprise me with the depths to which they sink. They are basically all bottom feeders. I got an envelope in the mail today from my mortgage company, Chase Mortgage. The outside of the envelope said "New PIN Enclosed". I was immediately suspicious because I don't have anything with Chase that requires a PIN. When I opened it I was greeted by the following sentence; Based upon our review of the Pima County Mortgage Records and the latest loan programs, it appears your current mortgage payment no longer conforms with the Tucson area. That sentence is totally meaningless. Kind of a non-thought thought. First of all, there is no entity called Pima County Mortgage Records, although their use of capitalization would lead one to believe that there is. The letter is actually an offer to refinance the house. They would like to loan us money at 2.9%, amortized over 30 years, with the 2.9% rate fixed for five years, after which it adjusts. Since 2.9% is about four points below the current market, the loan has to have high fees or some other catch. Beyond that though, this is a sucker deal. The danger with any adjustable rate loan is that it is a good deal only if things work out exactly right. Many people take them with the idea that they will refinance again or sell the place before it adjust. Unfortunately life doesn't always work out that way. People lose their jobs or the housing market goes bust. I heard a caller on yesterday's Dave Ramsey show who owed $225,000 on a house in Stockton, California and was entertaining offers in the $160,000 range for its sale. Two years ago Stockton was among the hottest markets in the West. This fellow finds himself upside down in a house that was a "can't miss" deal just two years ago. He needs to sell at the most inopportune moment. Another problem with this type of mortgage is that people take a bigger loan because the interest rate is lower than what they currently pay. In the example in my offer today, I could reduce my house payment by $400 a month, according to Chase. Many people would look at that and figure they can get a lot of equity out of the house and still maintain their current payment. Something like 80% of people who roll credit card or other debt into a house, get right back into the debt. Debt consolidation almost never works because people don't change their behaviors. So anyway, I will be giving my friends at Chase a call to tell them that I think they are skunks. This strengthens my resolve to pay the bastiches off. Oh yeah, and the PIN enclosed turned out to be some bogus offer number that I was supposed to reference should I be interested in pursuing their offer. Did I mention that they are bastiches? Lastly, I went to see Son Sneed tonight and I think the Electro Convulsive Therapy is doing some good. He was the most normal that I have seen him in awhile. He says he is reconsidering whether he really wants to move out on his own. I don't know whether that is good or bad for him. I guess we'll see. 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

Am I a Keen Observer of the Human Condition or a Freak Magnet?

Rain!



























I had a doctor's appointment this morning. I have been going to the same doctor since we were both young. He continues to be amazed by my physical condition. He said that I have the body of a man half my age. Or was it twice my age? One or the other.

The doctor made me come in for something he called a medicine check. Apparently, when you are on long-term prescriptions drugs the doctor wants to check you out from time to time. Sounds like a scam to me.

I had a hassle with my insurance, too. Tedious Systems wasted no time in dropping me from my coverage as an active employee the moment I was off the premises. They were not as quick to show me as an eligible retired employee, though. The front desk person at the doctor's office told me I had no coverage and would have to pay up in cash. This led to a call to the insurance company and to the crack Tedious Systems benefits team.

In the end they both agreed that I would be covered retroactive to the 1st of July, but that it would take a few more days to sort it out. I hate dealing with insurance. The front desk person told me to ask the doctor what he wanted me to do about paying today. He was as perplexed by this request as I figured he would be. He told me to tell her to figure it out. Do I get a discount for this impromptu arbitration? Heck no.

I also went to get my haircut this morning and I ran into the most cynical man I have ever met. No it isn't me, it was the barber.

The shop I go to is probably the strangest barbershop in the world. It is a little hole in the wall, landlocked by a car lot and a strip mall. The car lot owner has been making this guy's life difficult for years in an attempt to get the building, but he refuses to close up. Apparently, it is the principle of the matter.

The cast of barbers changes constantly, I think because the shop doesn't have enough traffic to support more than one barber full time. There is a woman who has been there forever because she has a loyal following, but you just never know who the second barber will be. Today it was a guy who was pissed off at everyone.

When I arrived, my barber was sitting in his chair waiting for someone to come in. He was watching a policeman across the street who was investigating a large truck and flatbed trailer loaded with copper plates, that had been left in a vacant lot. The barber assured me that all cops are crooked and that there would soon be several other police cars over there. The copper plates, he confidently predicted, would wind up at the salvage yard, with the ill-gotten proceeds lining the pockets of the police.

A few minutes later the policeman left, having written the truck owner a ticket. All copper plates still safely on the trailer, but my guy was on to the next conspiracy.

His next ax to grind was with the courts, which he told me are full of scam artists. It seems he was caught driving with no license, insurance or valid license plates. He objected to paying fines in addition to the cost of getting a license, etc. The fines, he assured me, wind up being split between the police and court officials. That is why, he said, that the cop left a ticket on the truck across the way. He gets a cut of every ticket. I thought he was there to steal the copper, but maybe I missed something.

I was hoping he would ask what I do for a living so I could say that I am a policeman, but then again he might have cut my throat. You never know.

And speaking of driving, how about those gas prices, he asked? Big oil has plenty of gas on hand but won't bring it to market because they want to keep the price high, you may not know that. Just like the darn drug companies. They have cures that they are keeping off the market to keep us sick.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long to cut my hair and I escaped without any more conspiracies to mull over. Heaven knows, my head was already spinning with the food for thought he gave me.

Here's another thing. I hate it when I forget to do something because I will remember that I forgot at the most inopportune moment.

The Seafood King told me the other day that one of the credit card machines at the restaurant was still not working. When I went over to fix the phones and other telecommunications devices, there was one credit card machine that they didn't tell me they had. I told him that I would go back over and get it going. Then I promptly forgot to do it.

When I was leaving the barbershop it sprang into my brain. It is an easy thing to fix and only took a couple of minutes, but I had to drive across town to do it. Plus I showed up during the lunch rush and had to dodge frantic workers going back and forth.

I was able to toss a bunch of crap that I took out of the garage into his dumpster, so that was worth the trip.






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

Sunday

Son Sneed was transferred to a different mental health facility this past Thursday in order for him to be near the hospital where he is getting his Electro Convulsive Therapy.

The immediate downside to this change is that it is more difficult to visit him. The previous facility was .9 miles from our house and it took about 5 minutes to drive there. The new place is about 15 miles and it takes a good 40 minutes to drive there. The visiting hours are also radically different. At the former facility visiting was from 5:30 pm until 7:00 pm every day. The new place restricts visitors to 45 minutes on weekdays. Saturday and Sunday visitors are allowed from 2pm until 4:30pm. It is obvious that they want visitors just on the weekends, when the pace is slower.

We went to visit Son Sneed today and it was kind of a shock. He had warned us that unlike the homey facility he had been at, this place is more like the hospital in One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. After having been there, I would have to agree with him on that.

The new hospital handles a wider range of illnesses than the former one did. Son Sneed is afraid for his safety because some of the patients are violent. He expressed his concern for his welfare and was told not to worry because the patients mostly attack the staff, not other patients. He isn't reassured much.

Son Sneed has been told by the doctors that after he gets for or five Electro Convulsive Therapy treatments, he will be allowed to go home and finish the course of treatment as an outpatient. That will be very nice.

We also had some rain today. This is the beginning of our summer rainy season. Unlike most places where it is likely to rain most any day, the rain here in the desert is mostly confined to July into September and in late December though February. Outside of those time frames, there is little likelihood for rain. Given that we only get 12 inches of rain annually on average, any rain is welcome.



This little graph shows how our meager rainfall is distributed.




















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 very nearly got a bargain on some patio chairs this morning. If not for indifference of a young Target employee, I would have them on the patio now. I actually saw the chairs a few days ago among the bazillion boxes of outdoor furniture that was marked half off. Target is clearing out their summer stuff and getting ready for fall. Since my pal Sneedlet One is here today and the lovely Mrs. Sneed is messing with people's heads at the counseling center, I figured I would pop over to Target and look at the chairs again. There were exactly four remaining, but they still carried the original price tags. I hailed a passing Target employee and asked him if the chairs were included in the 50% off sale. He looked at me with a panicked expression, I sure trying to think up a response that would keep him from having to actually find out the answer to my question. He told me they weren't. So, I moved on, disappointed. There were some rose bushes marked 75% off, so I picked through them finding three good ones. I also bought a $4 Coleus and an ornamental pepper plant on sale. I got two hanging baskets at 50% off, metal with coconuts husk liners. I also picked up a large bag of potting soil. So the trip wasn't a bust. When I got into line there was only one cashier, the garden manger, a middle-aged Asian woman, who is very abrupt, kind of mean actually. As I waited, the same kid who told me the chairs were not on sale came and opened a second register. He told me to move to his register. He scanned the first rose bush and it rang up as $16. I told him that it was on sale and he said he didn't think so. Meanwhile the five people in line behind me let out a collective groan. Fortunately, the manager came over and started yelling at him that the roses were 75% off. When he couldn't fix the register, she pushed him aside and did it herself before returning to the customers in her line. After I paid and turned to leave, I noticed that the woman in line behind me had my four chairs stacked on a flat cart. This looked bad and I could feel resentment starting to build in me. "Nice chairs", I remarked. "Aren't they nice? They're half off." "You sure? This guy told me they weren't", motioning at the unhelpful kid cashier. "Yes, that guy over there scanned them for me", indicating a middle-aged guy stacking boxes nearby. In the words of Jenny Haha, "AaaaaaaaW! To make matters worse, as I was loading my stuff into the car, the meany manager came out to where I was parked and told me that the kid forgot to scan my potting soil. How the hell did she know that? A quick check of my receipt proved her right, so I had to trudge back in and pay for the soil. I'm sure that she thought I was trying to pull a fast one. What a pain. 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

Clarification

Sorry for the confusion in my explanation about paying off my house. Here's the deal. During the past four years I have saved some money in my 401K plan at my former job. A 401K plan allow you to save money before it is taxed. This is designed to allow people to accumulate money for retirement by postponing the taxes owed until the money withdrawn, instead of when the money was earned. The idea is that people will will have more money to sock away, if they don't get taxed until they withdraw their investment from the 401K plan. A 401k plan is called a 403B in the schools and nonprofits and the Thrift Savings Plan for government workers. They all work the same. When you leave a job you have three options for the money in your 401K account. (1) you can just leave the money with the old company until you need to withdraw it, (2) you can roll it over (transfer) to an IRA with a financial institution or another 401K at your next job, (3) you can just withdraw it and pay the taxes due. Normally, in option 3, if you withdraw money before you are 59 1/2 years-old there is an additional 10% penalty imposed by the government. However, if you leave a job after 55-years old, you can withdraw the money without the 10% penalty. This is an exception to the 59 1/2 year-old rule. Regardless of age, pretax investment in a 401K plan is taxable when you withdraw it. In my case I plan to withdraw my investment, pay the taxes due and pay off my house. In my situation, the taxes are 25% to the federal and about 5% to the state, meaning that I will collect about 70% of my money after the taxes are paid. This isn't as bad as it seems for a couple of reasons I will explain, should anyone really care to know. Tony asks about the mortgage interest deduction I will lose. A mortgage interest deduction allows you to exclude the amount of mortgage interest paid from your taxable income. For example, if your taxable income was $100,000 and your mortgage interest was $12,000, you could reduce your taxable income by $12,000. That's $12,000 you don't pay taxes on. If you are in the 25% tax, that will save $12,000 x 25%, or $3000 in federal taxes. However, you had to send the bank $12,000 to avoid sending the government $3,000. That is a bad reason to keep a mortgage. If you have a mortgage and you itemize on your federal taxes, you should definitely take advantage of the mortgage interest deduction, but getting a mortgage for the interest deduction is a stupid idea. Of course, in order to deduct the interest costs of a mortgage you have to itemize on your federal taxes and most people don't itemize anyway. Next year I will not have enough deductions to itemize, so the mortgage deduction doesn't apply to me anyway. Finally, Tony mentions using the money for a start-up business instead of paying off the house. That is a possibility of course, but not one I would do. I am risk-averse and paying off the house eliminates risk in my life. Should a business opportunity occur to me, I would have to start small, with minimal investment and work my way up. A business write off comes from spending money. Income minus expenses equals profit. the more you spend to get a write off the less the profits. It is not much different than a mortgage write off. You have to expend money to keep it from being taxed. Most write offs are not worth much because you are spending dollars to save quarters. As I said in my previous post, paying off the house makes good financial sense, but spending the money is a hard emotion decision for me. I hope this makes it more clear. 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

Money Thoughts

It's not much to look at and it needs some work, but by next Spring she's all ours.


This retirement gig of mine is a carefully orchestrated affair, at least financially. I kind of need things to go reasonably smoothly the next four years or I will have to get the dreaded part time job and you know how I feel about that.

My former employer, Tedious Systems, has thrown the first monkey wrench into my plans. I got a notice yesterday that my health insurance will be one third higher than I paid as an employee. No one told me that retirees pay more than employees, but it turns out to be the case.

Don't get me wrong here, I really appreciate having access to health insurance that is reasonably affordable, but my carefully crafted budget anticipated a lower cost. This development threatens to cut into my walking around money and I have a busy social schedule to keep.

I am also contemplating paying off Casa Sneed at the first of the year. I have stashed away enough money in the past four years, during my second stint with Tedious, to pay it off. I will have to pay taxes on the money, because it was in a 401K, but I am paying taxes on it sometime, so I might as well get it over and be free of the house payment. I don't have a penalty for taking the money out since I retired after 55 years of age. Also, because we no longer will have enough deductions to itemize on our taxes, the interest deduction the mortgage generates does not factor into the decision.

I can't think of a reason not to payoff the house. Our principal and interest on the house loan is about $690 and the savings that I plan to use to pay off the loan would only generate $400 per month if I left it in savings. It seems like a net $300 monthly savings to me.

I have an emotion reason that makes me hesitate. Like most emotion reasons, it makes no practical sense though. I simply like having that money and I don't like to spend it, even if it is the right thing to do in the long run. This always happens to me.

Mrs. Sneed refers to our savings as "the vault", because she claims we put money in but I never want to take it out. Maybe, maybe not.

I'm off to have lunch with my friend Lonnie. We have a new member of our lunch group. We used to see an old couple every week at our usual place and over time we became acquainted with them. The wife died a few weeks ago at 89 year old and the husband, Charlie, who is 90 has asked if we mind having him join us every Friday. He is a retire Army Colonel and has a million stories to tell. Since Lonnie and I have been having lunch every Friday for years and years now, we are glad to have someone interject a bit of life into our lunches. Plus Charlie is just a genuinely nice guy.

Have a great day.









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 was out bright and early this morning confirming once again that I am not so good at golf. The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob and I, were joined by a new guy named Charlie. Seafood Jr. has officially given up on golf because he can't bear the heat. Junior is a pretty rotund young fellow, so he really wears out quickly.

Speaking of rotundness, I see in the news that the English Food and Drink Federation is contemplating adding a 17.5% tax on the price of fatty, sugary and salty foods. The thinking is that the higher costs will cut consumption and save lives. I doubt it.

When I was a kid we didn't have money for things like doughnuts, so my mother would sometimes make a fried dough concoction that she called doughnuts. She would take a tube of those biscuits that you can bake at home, punch a hole in the middle, deep fry them and toss them into a paper bag with cinnamon and sugar. Instant fake doughnuts that we absolutely loved. She also used to make corn and apple fritters. In fact about everything we ate was fried. That explains a lot.

Son Sneed is being transferred today to a more longterm facility than the one he is at. He will be getting his Electro Convulsive Therapy there and we all hope it will do him some good. He talked to the agency that manages his care and they are going to find him an apartment in one of their buildings. He is real anxious to get out of our house and be on his own, more or less.

I was just cleaning the garage because the bug man is coming this afternoon. Son Sneed is a skilled woodworker and has a bunch of woodworking devices in our garage, basically taking up space. He developed an irrational fear of cutting off his fingers and has stopped his woodworking altogether.

I actually like it when he doesn't build stuff in the garage because he doesn't clean up after himself. There was sawdust in every nook and cranny of the garage. I had to move the shelves and all the stuff away from the walls so that the guy can spray. Everything that I moved unearthed an new pile of sawdust.











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

B-o-o-o-o-gus!

The only true Pope.


















The only true Blogger.



Today I declare myself to be the only true blogger. All other bloggers are defective or not true bloggers. Forgive me, sometimes I get a bit grandiose.

Well, Pope Benedict continued his "Piss 'em Off World Tour 2007" yesterday, by declaring that all religions, other than Roman Catholicism suck. Okay, he didn't say suck, he called them bogus, but we all know what he meant. Alright he actually said that they were defective or not real religions. Same thing.

The announcement sent up howls among the rest of Christianity, of course. The Pope is basically saying that during these last 40 years, while ministers from the major religions held conferences to discuss increasing ties among their faith traditions, the Catholic representatives had their fingers crossed.

Bewildered Catholic leaders around the world scrambled to put some kind of positive spin on the statement, but struggled because frankly how do you defend that? Besides he is the Pope and he is used to getting the last word.

Speaking off the record with yours truly via a teleconference hookup, the Pope had this explanation.

"Look, it's simple. You got God, then Jesus his Son, also God. Jesus tabbed Peter as the first Pope, then you have Pope, Pope, Pope......Pope, Pope, Pope....Pope, Pope, Pope, right down to me. Your Lutheran, Anglicans, Methodists, Presbyterians, Baptists, Jews, Muslims, the whole damn, uh, excuse my French, bunch of them don't get that I am in charge of this whole salvation business. Hey, I don't make the rules here, I just do what God tells me to do. So, I'm firing back. We'll see who has the last laugh here."

The Pope would not comment on the rumors that he is raising an Army for a sort of latter day crusades. According to sources though, he plans to attack the Quakers first, and work his way gradually through the more militant religions. I'll keep you posted.













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

Sputum, Sputum and More Sputum.

I'm thinking of changing the tag line on my blog from MerleSneed: Live on Less Than You Make, to MerleSneed: Sputumalious. What do you think?

Ah, another productive day being retired. I spent the entire day cleaning house. I cleaned one of the bathrooms, dusted the furniture, vacuumed and moped the floors. I also cleaned the cabinets doors in the kitchen. My biggest job was washing some of the many, many wood blinds that cover our windows. Mrs. Sneed likes wood blinds.

Living in the desert more or less assures that every inch of the house gets covered in a fine dust. I hate the dust. Mrs. Sneed says that I get to stay retired as long as the blinds remain dust-free. Keep them clean or get a maid and a job.

Wood blinds are a major pain in the ass to clean. The only thing worse would be the old venetian blinds, with the razor sharp edges. I have tried all sorts of ways to clean these blinds, but the only surefire method is a damp rag, wiping both sides of each slat. As I said, a pain in the ass,, but still preferable to Randall Bing.

In other news, I have gotten a couple of really good deals lately, and as everyone knows, I love the good deal.

When I retired from Tedious Systems, I lost my vision insurance. (Side note: This is where Kurt comments that Other People Exist doesn't provide vision insurance to its staff). In the couple of weeks prior to my retirement, both Mrs. Sneed and I got our eyes checked and ordered new glasses, before the window of opportunity closed.

Her glasses came in no problem, just as promised. Mine were delayed and my new sunglasses have yet to arrive. It has been nearly a month. My good friends at Costco called me the other day to apologize for the delay. Apparently there has been a mishap with some coating that gets applied to the lens to make them more scratch resistant and the arrival date for the sunglasses remains unknown.

The fine folks at my Costco arranged to give me a pair of sunglasses, in my prescription, but without the coating to hold me over until the real ones come in. It is an identical pair to the ones I'm expecting, except for the coating. When my new ones finally arrive, I get to keep the interim pair. Pretty nice deal. Many places would not think to try to do something to make up for the delay.

Lastly, I have been wearing flip-flops exclusively since I retired. One problem with extended flip-flop wearing is that a person's feet get to be kind of scary looking. I could wear shoes, but all of my shoes suitable for wearing with shorts have laces and there is no way a retired guy should have to tie his shoes. I have been looking for a pair of slip-on shoes that would look okay with shorts, the only pants I will be wearing until it gets cold again.

I was in a department store the other day and I saw some canvas Topsiders that I liked. Unfortunately, I have size 14 feet and Sperry doesn't make Topsiders in size 14. I searched the internet for any canvas slip-on in size 14, only to come up empty handed. None of the major mens shoes companies sell a mens canvas slip-on that big.

I finally found that Skecher sells this skater type shoe in a 14. It was more or less what I needed, a comfortable shoe that is acceptable with shorts and is easy to get on and off.



While I was ordering it on line from the Skecher site, I noticed a box that asked for a promotional code. That got me to wondering how one gets a promotional code. I Googled "Skecher and promotional code" and I found a bunch of pages listing these codes. I picked the best deal, 40% off any canvas shoe, and entered the code with my order. To my amazement, I got 40% off my order.

So that is my tip of the day. Look for a promotional code when buying online.










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

One of these people is a highly-paid newscaster who is easily confused by unfamiliar words. The other one is Ted Baxter.





Sneedlet finally went home yesterday after having spent four, count 'em, four nights with us. I love the little guy with all my heart but enough is enough. I've seen enough PBS Kids Sprout to last me a while. Daughter Sneed tried to explain living with him day in and day out was nerve-wracking, but I didn't believe her. Now I do.

Son Sneed is writing a diary while he is in the hospital and intends to publish it on his blog when he gets out. He has also hatched a scheme to move into an semi-independent residence, operated by one of our community mental health organizations. I think it's a swell idea. It will give him some autonomy and give us all some space.

I took advantage of my golf pass today. I went out at 9 am and was home by 1:30 pm. The weather here has been downright bearable today. I don't even think we got to a hundred, so it was a good day to play golf. Unfortunately, it wasn't a good day to play golf well, but that is probably not weather related.

You may have read that Katie Couric blew up and hit one of her lackeys for inserting the word sputum in the news copy. I'm thinking that if you're getting millions to read the damn news, no standard English word should be out of bounds, but that's just me. I'm also thinking that if you strike an underling, you should get fired, but again, me.

This flap is reminiscent of the old Mary Tyler Moore show. Murray Slaughter was forever writing copy with words that Ted Baxter couldn't say, just to screw with him. Apparently, the perky Katie has issues with the word sputum and has had it banned from the CBS Evening News. the bootlickers that surround her would have us believe that she just doesn't like saying sputum. Sure she doesn't.

Tomorrow's copy should have the sentence, "He coughed and got sputum on his scrotum." that would be great. Murray Slaughter, where are 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

He Ain't No Paris Hilton

You may or may not have heard the term "inmate phone". An inmate phone is a pay phone that prisoners can use to make calls to people who wish they wouldn't. The calls can only be made collect, assuming someone will accept the charges. The government may behave stupidly much of the time, but not stupidly enough to pay for inmate phone calls. Inmates and unfettered phone access is a recipe for trouble with a capital T.

I was watching a documentary program the other day and a young woman who was being profiled had run up a hefty phone bill by accepting collect calls from her inmate boyfriend. Unfortunately, it was her mother's phone and phone bill.

The reason that I bring this up is that I have become very familiar with the inmate phone system these past few days, because Cletus Sneed, our youngest son and failed adoption experiment, is in the slammer. It seems the knucklehead was riding his bike on the sidewalk and the police stopped him because in our fair city riding on the sidewalk is illegal. He might have gotten away with a warning had he not been in possession of pot and other drug paraphernalia.

His problems really began to mount when the police ran his identification and discovered that he has several outstanding warrants for his arrest for failing to appear at scheduled court dates for his many run ins with the law.

Since his first brush with the law in March of 1999 he has been cited for the following violations, mostly relating to driving illegally, but with some criminal activity sprinkled in.

Driving with no insurance - 7 times
Driving with no registration - 7 times
Failure to appear in court to answer charges - 7 times
Speeding - 6 times
Drug violations - 4 times
Driving on a suspended license - 3 times
Driving an unregistered vehicle - 2 times
Mandatory seatbelt violation - 2 times
Unsafe Lane change - 1 time
Driving in two lanes - 1 time
Stop sign violation - 1 time
Shoplifting - 1 time
Weapons violation - 1 time

That's 43 charges of one sort or another. I think 43 items on the old rap sheet should land a guy in jail for a while, but it never seems to. He's in and out in no time because the jail is full to the brim with criminal types of a more accomplished nature.

So, back to the inmate phone. The dumb SOB has been calling here at $2.40 a pop from jail. I have only accepted 2 calls thus far, although he has made at least ten.

He called the other night when he was arrested, to ask me to go to a convenience store not far from here to pick up his bike before it was stolen. I reluctantly went and got it.

This morning he called at about 8 and I declined to accept the charges. He called right back again and I accepted his call, which was a mistake of course. He said that his bond had been set at $75 dollars and wanted me to go down to the jail and pay it. Just until he got back to his flophouse you understand. It seems he has a stash of cash there and he promised he would repay me right away. If any of this were true, it would mark the first time in his life that he has repaid anything. That is the absolute truth.

I told him no and that set him off about how he couldn't miss work, blah, blah, blah, I suck as a father, he is much better than he used to be, trying his best and on and on. I finally just hung up.

It turns out that his bond is $750, not $75. The $75 is what has to be paid to secure the $750 bond. Of course, I would have to sign a promissory note for the whole $750, and should he fail to appear as he has on seven previous occasions, I would have to pony up the remainder or risk Dog the Bounty Hunter busting down my door. That is trouble I don't need, especially if he brings Beth and her giant boobs. Someone could be maimed or worse. As we used to say when I worked in an employment office, "The past is the best predictor of the future." I am heeding that wisdom.

He has called several other times today, evidently trying to plead his case. We didn't answer, but I'm sure I haven't heard the last of this.


























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