Rat-a-2-e

I decided not to count today as my first day of retirement. I'll save that for Monday, because today was no different than any other Saturday.

Sneedlet One spent the night last night and is doing the same tonight. Sneedlet Two's family is moving to the McMansion this weekend, so I took both little boys to the movies. We went to see Ratatouille, which turned out to be a bit beyond their understanding. With about fifteen minutes to go in the movie they decided that they had seen enough, so we left. Sneedlet Two's dad picked him up from the mall and they went home.

Ratatouille was disappointing from the grandfather perspective. It got good reviews generally, but it was too sophisticated and therefore hard to follow for younger moviegoers. I understand that Pixar and Disney are trying to widen the appeal of the movie as much as possible and that they have tread a fine line, entertaining the kids as well as the parents. In that respect they failed, I think.

Malcolm Gladwell discusses this idea in his book, The Tipping Point. He talks about how research has shown that kid's learn better by watching Blue's Clues, a show that will drive an adult to distraction, than from Sesame Street, which is written with much more sophisticated content, while still directed at preschoolers.

One of the things I remember from my days as an education student was not to use sarcasm with younger children because since they are concrete thinkers, they won't get it. The same is true with entertainment content. You have to keep their attention and when it gets too clever, they lose interest. But as I said, Pixar has to entertain the adults too.

The Sneedlets had "movie snacks" which is what they call the kid's pack, so they felt the day was a huge success. That's really all that matters.


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

Merle Sneed Has Left The Building

Tony the Tiger® Property of Kellogg

At 10:26 am the curtain came down on my long and storied career at Tedious Systems.

It wasn't always called Tedious Systems. Prior to the early 1980's we were owned by a much larger company. The company changed names three times and was spun off from our parent before we were acquired by Tedious in the late 1990s.

I worked for Tedious Systems for 13,295 days as an employee and for 543 days as a part time contract employee. It was during those 543 days that I had my sort-lived teaching career. Nixon was President when I came to work at Tedious. That was seven Presidents ago. Neil Armstrong walked on the moon a month after I was hired. Vietnam raged and I was drafted and failed my Army physical a few months later.

The first tank of gas that I bought to get to my job at Tedious cost 17.9 cents per gallon. My 1960 Volkswagen got 30 miles to the gallon and my $1.79 fill up lasted a couple of weeks.

I began my career making $96 per week and we thought we were rich. The lovely Mrs. Sneed was earning $65 per week. Together we were pulling in $8400 per year, big money. We bought our first house for $15,900 and worried that we couldn't make the $135 monthly payment, but we always did. For a couple of poor kids, we were living large.

The purchase of our company by Tedious was the beginning of the end of the business as I knew it. The management of Tedious raided the corporate finances, lied about the financial health of the company and stripped benefits from the employees. Their actions caused a collapse in the stock price, ruining the retirement plans of hundreds of employees, who suddenly found their nest eggs wiped out. In the end the crooks were forced out and some were convicted for their misdeeds. Some have been personally bankrupted which seems a fitting outcome, others are facing prison.

New leadership was hired and they righted the company and restored its financial health. Unfortunately it was too late for the little people that had their dreams stolen by greedy and self-serving management. Tedious lost me some time ago, today we just made it official.

I arrived at work this morning at the usual time. I half expected to find my work area decorated with a bunch of retirement decorations, but it wasn't. I glad. Two of my coworkers bought a large cake and some ice cream at their own expense and at about nine am we had a little get together for all of my work friends. Randall Bing felt it necessary to say a few words. Most people found it necessary to ignore him. I don't think it would ever occur to Randall to commemorate my departure, had not others stepped up and done it for him. Randall is not a bad guy, he just isn't socially adept and despite what he believes, he is an ineffective leader.

By nine fifteen, the festivities had wound down and I was back at the task of throwing away the last of the paperwork that I hadn't gone through or given away. At about ten I went to Randall's office to turn in my badge and access card for the building and sign my final paperwork. The paperwork mostly involves making sure that I promise that I am not stealing anything (no joke). Randall thanked me for my service to the company and to "his team". I also got a call from Randall's boss wishing me the best. He told me that I have done a great job and that I will be missed. I don't think he could pick me out of a lineup, but maybe I'm wrong.

I went around the office to say a final goodbye to my coworkers. There were a couple of people who seemed genuinely sad to see me go and a few that I am sad to say goodbye to. Mostly, they said that they envied me or wished me good luck. We promised to keep in touch, although we likely won't. My friend Tony help me carry a few things to my truck and at 10:26 am, I left Tedious once and for all.

Tedious and its predecessor companies have been very good to me financially. We have had a comfortable life and I hope that our retirement years will be the same. I wonder what I might have been had I not devoted so many years to one job. I might have had a calling and didn't even hear it, who knows? Maybe Tedious was my calling, that's a depressing thought. It is too late to worry about that now.

I know that I seem bitter, but I am not really. I'm sad that after 38 years, I feel so disconnected and like such an outsider.

Anyway, now it is time to move on. I guess I'll figure it out, I usually do. Maybe my calling has been patiently waiting all these years for me to be ready. For now, freedom feels "grreat!"





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

Dying For A Job

An unidentified Senator explains his vote to kill the comprehensive immigration reform bill.


I went to play golf this morning with the Seafood King and Some Guy Named Bob. Seafood Jr. begged off due to the heat.

Our start time was 7:15 and the temperature was a pleasant eighty nine degrees. Play was slow and by noon when we finished it was up to one hundred four degrees. Even though we rode carts today, I was drained. The forecasted high for late this afternoon is one hundred and six. It is supposed to reach one hundred and ten this weekend.

When I came home I laid down and took a nap, awaking feeling drained rather than refreshed. The heat just saps the strength.

This oppressive heat got me to thinking about the people out in the deserts of Southern Arizona who are dying trying escape the crushing poverty of Mexico. It kind of makes whining about the discomfort of a round of golf seem petty, doesn't it?

Many illegal border crossers take to the desert because it is easier to evade the Border Patrol away from the cities. Most take a plastic milk bottle or two filled with water for the trip. No matter how much water they carry, it is inadequate for the trip ahead. It is simply not possible to carry enough water to traverse 60 miles of desert on foot in the summer. The temperatures are brutal and the sun unrelenting.

The lucky ones will find water stations that volunteers place along routes known to be used by illegal crossers. Some will give up, beaten by the elements and just sit down somewhere in hopes of being found by the Border Patrol or volunteer searchers. The unlucky ones will die an agonizing death from heat and thirst. Their remains will be taken to the medical examiner's office and held until someone back in Mexico reports them missing. Maybe they will be identified or maybe not. Some will leave relatives guessing as to their fate.

Those who reach safety undetected, take jobs that pay low wages and require long hours. Jobs that pay many times what they can make in Mexico. This is what draws them here.

In a perfect world immigration would be orderly and safe, but this isn't a perfect world. It is a world of economic imbalances, so people will always seek to better their lives despite the risks to life and limb.

Mexico is glad to be rid of their poor, they have plenty. These workers send money back home to family left behind, boosting their local economy, a duty their own government has abdicated. U.S. employers are glad to have reliable workers who will work hard and in silence. Many American grumble about these uninvited guests fearing that their presence diminishes our prosperity and takes our jobs. Everyone has a dog in this fight.

Thirty years ago the lovely Mrs. Sneed and I were involved with the Vietnamese Resettlement Project. Thousands of Vietnamese piled into boats big and small, seaworthy and not, all dangerously overloaded and put out to sea in the hope of finding a better life. They endured pirates, lack of water, the elements and the risks of the sea. It is the same human spirit yearning to be free.

This situation is a sad failure of the governments of the United States and Mexico. They are equally culpable if you ask 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

I Heart Ace Hardware

Perhaps you are familiar with Rube Goldberg and his comically complex "Rube Goldberg Machines" to do simple tasks. Anymore Rube Goldberg has become synonymous with any makeshift repair.

I am a pretty handy guy and I can fix most things, except for electronic stuff, which pretty much no one can fix. Around the house we rarely call a repairman...at least until I have given it a try.

Yesterday I was vacuuming the living room and noticed that the floor lamp in the corner needed to be dusted. I got a dust rag but when I touched the lamp, the top one third, shade and all, flopped over and dangled by the wiring. A piece that connects the shade, bulbs and switches to the base broke in half. The base screws into the bottom of the broken connector and the socket and shade assemblies screw into the top.

I dragged the lamp out of its place and studied the situation. I disassembled the entire thing until I could remove the two halves of the broken connector. It seemed to me that I was going to have trouble finding another connector like the broken one.

This morning I went back to the lighting store where we bought the lamp to see if they could get me a new part. The woman that I spoke with said I would have to bring the lamp to the store so that their repairman could look at it. If the part could be obtained from the manufacturer, they would order it and fix the lamp. She thought it might cost about thirty or forty bucks. Or she offered to sell me a whole new lamp. Since I am soon to be on a fixed income the latter is out of the question.

My good friend Greg organized a lunch to celebrate my retirement today so I ran my dilemma by some other great thinkers in attendance. The consensus was that I might be able to use JB Weld, a super adhesive, to try to fuse the two halves together of the broken part together. I was skeptical.

I spent the afternoon turning the problem over in my head. I have spent the past 25 years working in the engineering field, so I have had plenty of experience figuring stuff out. I thought of several alternative fixes, all in the Rube Goldberg category, before settling on a brilliant solution. Just say it involves two nuts(the kind that go on bolts thank you) and some JB Weld.

I popped into my neighborhood Ace Hardware on the way home and wandered around trying to find what I needed. I always try to find things myself so I don't have to explain my plans, which usually sound loopy, even to me. Unfortunately, I got trapped by a woman who works in the store. She happens to know everything about hardware, a fact I have to keep relearning. She asked me what I needed and I launched into a long explanation about my plan fix my lamp.

She listened patiently and when I was done she said, "Or I could just sell you a 1/4" to 3/8" lamp connector." My irreplaceable part turns out to be a standard lamp part. The replacement looks a bit different than the original, but as she pointed out, when the shade is on you can't see it anyway.

Her parting words were, "Tell the cashier it is ninety-five cents and have a nice day." Smartypants.

Having the actual part seems like cheating, but I reassembled the lamp and it works perfectly. I love Ace Hardware.








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'm A Believer!

This logo is property of The Monkees or someone other than me and is protected under trademark law or something. I am not making any money off it, but I am paying tribute to a truly great pop group...or something.


I'm A Believer was a hit song for the group The Monkees, in the 1960's. They also had a very popular television show of the same name.

Most people who remember the Monkees and their television show, assume that the group inspired the show. Actually, it was just the opposite. The show created the group. (An important fact to remember is that there were no actual monkeys in the Monkees.) Before the program debuted, there was no The Monkees, although there were probably monkeys, just none who could play lead guitar or sing.

It is very much like when a television or movie screen play, results not just in a movie or television show, but inspires a book too. The inane book, The Secret was a film, before it was a book, same thing, but I digress.

I have always been intrigued by the human tenancy to want to believe in stuff. I have heard magicians explain that even when they tell people that they are being tricked, they often refuse to believe it. The same is true when a psychic is unmasked as a fraud. "But he knew someone in my family had blue eyes. There's no way in hell he could know that, without me tellin' him. That there is a gen-u-ine psychic and you ain't tellin' me different."

Sylvia Browne, the skeptics favorite whipping-psychic, is very often, very publicly, very wrong. She said the kid in Missouri was dead and that the miners in West Virginia were alive. Both wrong, but Montel Williams still thinks she is a real psychic. (Note to self, take Montel off the TIVO to-do list.)

How often do people accept something simply because it was on the television or in the paper or even because some bonehead with a blog said it? Well, no one would believe what some bloggers say, so forget that part

How many people believe something simply because people before them believed the same thing, even people thousands of years ago? Wait, that one always gets me in trouble.

This explains why myths persist though. People want to believe, whether in ghosts or spacemen or Big Foot or the Loch Ness monster, even when there is no real proof of their existence. In an age where everything is recorded by someone, no one has a credible recording of any of these things, but yet belief persists.

What got me to thinking about this was a television commercial I saw for a local car dealer. They were advertising that, for this weekend only, if you bring in your trade, within 20 minutes they will;

1. Make you an offer for your car toward the purchase of one of their new cars, or
2. Make you an offer for your car toward the purchase of one of their used cars, or
3. Let you walk away.

Aren't those pretty much the only possible outcomes all the time? They are basically admitting that they normally hold you hostage to try and force the deal upon you, but for this weekend only, they will let you go mostly unmolested if you don't want their car. It is an idiotic advertisement on its face, but folks will show up because they want to believe that they can one up the car sales guys, even though we all have experience to the contrary.

A local import car dealer, you know a Toyota, Honda, Nissan or TOYOTA DEALER, got into hot water for advertising something that was too good to be true and which turned out not to be true at all.

These guys advertised that they were selling new cars at 50% off the manufacturer's suggested retail price (MSRP). The credulous car buying public rushed down to this joint expecting to get the deal of a lifetime. They discovered that it was a just a big old lie. The deal wasn't really cars for half price, it was a garden variety lease. If you leased a $25,000 car for three years, with a sizable down payment, at the end of three years of payments, you could buy the car for $12,500.

Our state attorney general fined them $150,000 bucks for that scam. Besides, the world is full of three year old cars that can be had for half their original MSRP. Without making three years of lease payments for the privilege.

These cretins run misleading ads because they know that people want to believe they can get an unbelievable deal. Instead, the public should be asking themselves when was the last time a car dealer gave anyone an incredible deal? The answer would be never. Instead, the attorney general had to crackdown on the dealer, at least in part, because people believed the ad and rushed to the lot, only to be disappointed and outraged.

This same shady dealership runs what they call "Repo Joe" sales. Repo Joe is depicted as a jolly fat man in coveralls who happens to own a sh*tload of repossessed cars. Like all jolly fat men who are reputed to give us stuff, Joe is mythical.

The Repo Joe television ads show a line of car-carrier trucks screaming down the interstate bringing great repossessed vehicles to a dealership near you. They can be had for next to nothing because they are repos, and we all know you can get a repo cheap. Except that you generally can't. Repos are mostly sold at auction, to dealers. You can buy a repo from a bank or credit union, but they are not great deals, because the bank wants to get its money back, not let you have it.

Besides, Repo Joe is not a person or even a car selling business, it is a marketing firm. They are contracted by dealerships to come in and sell the dealer's used car inventory by pretending that they are repos. You can go to RepoJoe.com for proof. Read it carefully and you will see what I mean. The shocking fact is that Repo Joe doesn't travel the country with a fleet of car carriers. The RepoJoe outfit provides a bunch of advertising and marketing materials.

Anyway, that is my rant for today. By the way, today was t-minus 4 days and counting, if you are keeping track at home.

.




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 Couple of Things

I heard a couple of things today that really struck a chord with me.

Scientific American has reported that the number of smokers in the New York City boroughs has declined by an average of 25% since the taxes went way up and smoking was banned in most public places. Only 17% of NYC adults smoke. That is a far cry from the 1950s when the percentage was 50. This got me to thinking about developments in our our fair city and state.

In our state May 1st marked the beginning of the end of life as we know it, at least according to bar owners. May 1st was the day that the smoking ban voted in by the people last fall, went into effect. The business owners in our state, having waited what they think is an appropriate length of time, are now unleashing stories about how the ban has caused a 10 to 15% decline in their business. In the short term smokers may being going home to drink rather than hitting the bars. I don't believe it, but then I don't hang in bars too much. That not withstanding, I think these stories are a crock.

May marks the exodus of the students at our local colleges, along with anyone affluent enough to flee the heat, so maybe May and June is not the best sample period to measure the effects of the ban. And never mind that the Centers for Disease Control has studied these bans all over the country and report that they don't cause the loss of business for bars and restaurants. When the news is about fairness and feeling, facts just get in the way of the story.

One fellow in our city was interviewed by the newspaper to illustrate the hardship that the smoking ban was creating for bar owners. His business was way down, no one showing up, blah, blah, blah. Almost as an aside this fellow also mentioned that the franchiser of his business and the city had ordered him to spend 100K to bring his building up to code or shut down. Could be a factor.

My blog friends who live in NYC can correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think the bars and restaurants have all closed there, and I'm sure we will survive this just fine.

This is anecdotal, but I have noticed that the number of smokers behind our building is way down since the ban took effect. I think a lot of people figured it wasn't worth the trouble anymore and are kicking the habit, which is good for them and us.

Here's the other thing. When I was in high school I had two friends, John and Gary, from Dothan, Alabama. I didn't know anything about Dothan, except that it was somewhere in Alabama and these two guys both claimed it as home.

Gary's father was a closet racist. He was nice enough in public, but in the confines of his home he was quick to use the N-word or to ascribe human failings to race. Gary would say odd things that belied what he believed about African-Americans, but he wasn't openly offensive. He once regaled us with his recollection of seeing tar paper shacks with Cadillacs parked in front of them in the black neighborhoods of Dothan. If you are not old enough to recall, one of the stereotypes of black men in the 50s and 60s is that they wanted a Caddy more than anything, even decent housing.

When I was listening to The Story radio program today, there was a story about two guys, one black and one white, who were trying to organize a 30th-year reunion for their high school class...an integrated reunion. It seems that the class of 1977 from Dothan High has had separate reunions, one for whites and one for blacks, every 5 years since 1977. It isn't so much that the whites didn't like the blacks or visa versa, they were more like two neighbors who had a fight years ago and neither side would take the first step toward reconciliation.

What I learned today was that until about 1972, Dothan High School was not integrated. That is unbelievable. I don't mean to sound preachy, but how is that possible? Brown vs The Board of Education was decided in 1954 for goodness sake. I graduated from high school in 1968 and I thought all schools had been integrated by then.

My friends John and Gary and I grew up as the children of military men. The military is segregated on the basis of rank, not race, so we never experienced racial segregation in the way many of our contemporaries in the civilian world did. I guess we were sheltered in that respect. The high school in central California where I knew Gary and John was predominantly African American and we didn't give that fact much thought really. Racism seems to me to be like a genetic defect that parents pass on to their kids.

Anyway, Dick Gordon's story about the Dothan High class of 1977 was an eye-opener 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

Sunday Evening Update

When I mentioned that you might notice that my blog has a crisper look, I guess I was wrong. No one noticed, so I guess I will have to point out the differences.

Previously, the text often ran into the sidebar on the right. Plus, the links and archives had the lines crammed together and the text was too small. It was very messy. The new blog template has fixed all of those items.

I don't know why I bother. You people wouldn't care if my blog was a pigsty. No one appreciates how hard I try. Wait, that was my sainted mother channeling through me.

In breaking news that matters, Lacey the Dog has learned to use the dog door. I took off the flap for a few days so that she would get the idea that she could go in and out. When I put it on today, she went through like she had been doing it her whole life. I love it when one of my schemes works out. Kudos to the mutt.

















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

New Look

Perhaps you have noticed that the Sneed Blog has a crisper look. This is thanks to the good folks at Google who introduced their new version of Blogger awhile back. I decided to upgrade to the new Blogger yesterday, seeing as how my amateur (there's that word again) HTML skills had really mucked up my blog's appearance.

I have also decided to hijack the picture of the chimp playing golf as my new logo. I don't know who owns the picture and it has no copyright info so until the cease and desist order arrives, I'm using it.

There is a Chuck E. Cheese location about two blocks from our house and every time I drive by it with one or more Sneedlets in tow, it sets off a chorus of "Grandpa, take us to Chuck E. Cheese. Pleeeze..."

Yesterday was the day. Sneedlet One and I picked up Sneedlet 2 and off we went for a couple of hours of toddler fun. If you google Chuck E Cheese, the web is full of people trying to be cute by comparing the joint to hell or describing the experience in excruciating detail. I'll spare you. Suffice to say that is fun for the under 8 crowd and those who like really, really bad pizza. That, of course, describes my Sneedlets to a tee, so I'm sure there are more visits in my future. The things I do for those hyenas.



The Sneedlets wanted to play the game where you roll the ball up a ramp and try to get it into circles of various sizes. Neither Sneedlet is strong enough to reach the circles pitching underhanded, so they resorted to throwing overhand, and shouting "I did it", every time they hit anything, including bystanders.












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

Back Away From That Keyboard Chuckles!

Sneed takes a well-deserved break from destroying western culture.


It seems some guy named Andrew Keen has his undies in a bunch over the little people daring to write things on the internet, where occasionally someone else reads them.
Evidently, Keen believes that this is leading to the decline and fall of western civilization and he has written a just-published book, The Cult Of The Amateur, to make that case. Keen likens bloggers to the T.H Huxley theorem that given enough monkeys and enough typewriters, blah, blah blah.

The situation, as I understand Keen's argument, is that bad writing, specifically blogs, dry up the market for quality writing. This leaves professional creatives without an outlet for their work. Geez, I thought I was just ranting about my life. I didn't know that I was killing literature in the process. I encourage my four regular visitors to buy and read a book or something. Kurt, you may wish to buy a used book at the flea market.

In the meantime, if anyone is going to the grocery, don't forget my bananas.


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

T Minus 7 Days And Counting

The drama continues to build toward my grand farewell to Tedious Systems.

I am sure that there are big, big plans underway to throw me a huge bon voyage gala. So far, the conspirators in the super-secret planning have kept it totally under wraps. Not even a hint of the scope and nature of the party. It should be something.

My coworker did ask me this morning if I would be here next Friday because he was "thinking" of getting a cake. Sure he was. No doubt the committee asked him to do reconnaissance work. I'm no fool.

Many years ago, in the early 1970s, a coworker of mine died on the way to his own retirement party. I always figured it was the sudden stop that got to him. You know, you work all day everyday for about 40 years and then one day you just stop and drop. It's 9-1-1 time, the old dirt nap. Your body can't handle the sudden deceleration.

So, I have taken precautions against that happening to me by easing into this retirement gig. I invented this little thing I like to call undertime. It is really a simple concept. Instead of staying late, I leave early.

About two years ago I made a commitment that no matter what, I was leaving at 4 pm sharp. My starting time is inconsequential. The expectation at Tedious Systems is that the salaried employees will put in 9 to 10 hours a day. My typical day began at 7:30-ish and I worked straight through to 4:00 pm, with no lunch hour. That's 8.5 hours, more or less at work and if that isn't good enough for the brain-trust at Tedious then, oh well.

When I gave my notice, 4 pm became 3 pm, then 2 pm and now about 1 pm. You have to ease out, no sudden stops. Next week, it may be noon. The funny thing is that no one even noticed. Am I that good or that useless? And does it really 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

The Summer Solstice

Here I am accepting congratulations on my excellent showing in the Sir Nigel Watson-Highmiller Memorial Golf Tournament. I won the "Golfer with the most Inappropriate Outfit" award. One of the well-wishers insisted that I arm wrestle him.


It turns out that today is the summer solstice. Who knew? The summer solstice, of course, marks the hottest day of the year. It is the day on which we turn the thermometers back ten degrees. In late December they will be dialed forward. It is an energy saving idea that was enacted during the Second Boer War.

While fighting in what is now South Jersey City, NJ, Sir Nigel Watson-Highmiller, noticed that his troops were perspiring heavily in the hot and humid New Jersey summer. Being British, they perspire, not sweat. He ordered the thermometers altered to make the temperature 10 degrees cooler. The troops were immediately refreshed and the Boers were vanquished and sent packing back to Boerville, where they remain to this day.

The grateful citizens of New Jersey petitioned American President Thomas Edison to recognized the Summer Solstice as an official annual event. Edison, issued a proclamation and in 1976, the summer solstice became law. A little known fact is that in 2009 Father's Day and the summer solstice occur on the same date.

I observed the summer solstice by playing golf with the Seafood King and Some Guy Named Bob. Seafood Jr. cannot bear the heat and stayed home. In honor of Sir Nigel and his brave troops, we perspired heavily. In fact, you might say we sweat. The current temperature here in our fair city is a blistering one hundred and eight degrees, that's 108F/42.2C, which will cause perspiration in even the most sudoriferously challenged person. Out here in the middle of the desert we call it effing hot.

My golf ability continues to disappoint one and all. Well, it disappoints me, everyone else is just embarrassed. I give new meaning to the word hacker.

Surprisingly, the course was crowded despite the high temps. Early this morning there was a tournament at the course held by the octogenarians of our fair city, their wives having ordered them out of the house, no doubt. We teed off after they had all teed off, so we were behind their last group and they were really s-l-o-w. We played behind a foursome made up of a guy named Stupid, one called Jackass, a guy named Slowpoke and the fourth was Moron in the Yellow Shirt. I didn't know them, but the Seafood King seemed to, or at least he knew their names.

Following a quick lunch in the clubhouse, I came home. I misted the plants on the patio and took a well-deserved nap. And Kurt worries that I can't lead a fulfilling and busy life without a job, ha!



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

Roses

I just love roses, what can I say?



I buy my cut roses at Costco Warehouse. In fact most things that I buy come from Costco.

There has been some controversy about the roses from places like Costco or Sam's Clubs. Critics claim that imported roses from Ecuador and Colombia have been treated with pesticides that are banned in this country and may be hazardous to your health. Since 85% of the roses sold in the US are imports, what can you do?

I buy Roses on price, quality being relatively equal. Hearing this would make my local florist unhappy, but given the option of $14.95 per dozen at Costco or twice that or more at the corner flower shop, it is an easy choice for me. At $14.95 I can buy them with some regularity and brighten up my life a bit. Besides there are plenty of starry-eyed, love sick knuckleheads out there keeping the florists in business.

The florists and their lobby are not thrilled with the wholesaling of cut flowers because it makes it tougher for them to make a living. This is the same argument that we can make about most thing. It is the old WalMart argument. The giant killing the little guy. I don't buy it, because it is not the job of the consumer to keep businesses viable by paying too much for goods and services. Besides not everyone buys everything on price.

Home Depot and Lowe's should have killed Ace Hardware, but they didn't. Ace has a nice little niche, by providing the lowest price they can, while offering a personal touch. Many people, me included, will pay extra for hardware if we get fast and knowledgeable service.

We buy our car insurance from Hartford online. I had a local Allstate agent tell me that I needed a local agent, not some 800 number. If that is so, it is up to him to prove it to me, in order for me to pay a higher premium for the service. After seven years with Hartford I am not seeing it.

I may have mentioned that I am retiring in nine days. About everyone I work with has asked me the same question. What are you going to do after you retire? I suppose it is a fair enough question.

The questioners that get me though are the ones who assure me that I will be bored to tears in no time flat. That may or may not turn out to be the case, but why do they feel the need to tell me. Spoilsports.

The fact is that for the last thirty eight years I have trudged off to work each morning and I am sick of it. So starting on June 30th I am getting out of bed in the morning a free man. If that proves boring, I will come up with a different plan. What I won't do is go to a job that I hate anymore.





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

Remodelers Needed Inquire Within

Important announcement! Son Sneed has grown weary of my posts about him, some of which he thinks may have been a tad inaccurate. He has decided to start his own blog to set the record straight. I have linked to his blog on my sidebar, please take a look, he is an interesting guy.


Back on April 4th of this year, I posted this picture of a fast food joint near Casa Sneed that burned down as the result of an unfortunate fryer mishap.




















In the ensuing two plus months they have hauled away the fire debris and put up this cool sign. Someone should have told them it wasn't necessary to burn the place down in order to remodel.


















Son Sneed and I bought this very lovely dog door for Lacey.


















Lacey treats the dog door like it is the door to hell.This is a shot through the door. I am trying to coax her in, but she is having none of 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

The Master Plan

I'm not sure that this picture will make sense, but the wet trail was left by our dog Lacey, who likes to sit in the fountain. Then she traipses all over with her wet body. You have to be careful letting her in. Son Sneed wants to get a dog door but I am not sure how we will keep her from making an unholy mess. (click to enlarge)


Mr. Randall Bing has at last unveiled his super plan to replace yours truly. It has two components. One, the work will be dumped upon the suckers left laboring at Tedious Systems. Those who thought that they were already working at full capacity were evidently mistaken. Part two involves yours truly writing down everything he knows about his job and giving it to Randall for distribution to the chumps left under his command. Sounds like a swell plan to me. How could it fail?

Randall will be out of town all this week, which is always a nice change of pace for the little folks. I plan on doing the very best job I can in his absence because he would expect no less.

Son Sneed evidently was at the Department of Motor Vehicles when the doors opened this morning. I received a call from him shortly after ten a.m. letting me know that he was in possession of his new license. Very nice.

Ched and I were exchanging some thoughts on dealing with painful holiday reminders. We share some heartache about Father's Day. She suggested that paying tribute to a lonely father would be a good way to overcome the bad memories. What a good idea.

As you know, I play golf with the Seafood King and Some Guy Named Bob. Bob is a widower who lives alone and the Seafood King involves Bob in many of his family celebrations. I don't think about how many lonely people there are in the world who would appreciate some attention, even if it was for the day.

Anyway, I am off to bowling this evening. Nine days left at work. 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

Father's Day

This has not been a typical Sneed Father's Day. Normally we would have all met for breakfast and the giving of loot to old man Sneed. Older Son Sneed and family only arrived home from their vacation cruise last evening, so they had to beg off. Daughter Sneed took Sneedlet to a water park with her friend and his family. The plan is to have an extravaganza at Daughter Sneed's home next weekend. We will celebrate Father's Day and my retirement in sort of a combo affair. I am not a big fan of the combo celebration, because it cuts the loot potential in half. Kind of like having your birthday on Christmas. Just kidding. It is hotter than blazes today so we are just hanging around. Mrs. Sneed is doing some work in her office and I am watching the US Open golf tournament, hoping that someone other than Tiger Woods wins. I often find myself rooting against someone rather than for someone. I may have a personality disorder. Younger Son Sneed caught an uncharacteristically good break yesterday. He received the judge's order concerning the suspension of his driver's license. The judge ruled that he could have his license back since he offered to take the blood test and the a-hole cop refused. Who would have thought? The judge did send his file to the state medical examiner to see if they wanted to check whether or not Son Sneed should be driving at all. We will deal with that later, but for now one bullet has been dodged. Lastly, I think my mind is going. I posted last weekend that I forgot to show up for bowling. Well, yesterday I got in the car and made it halfway to Phoenix, when I thought to double check the address I was going to. I looked at the date and then did a double take. I was supposed to have bowled last Sunday not yesterday. In my defense the line began TEAM, Squad 16 June 10, 2007. I saw 16 June and must have quit reading. If my teammates ever speak to me again, it will be a miracle. Although if it keeps them from bothering me about bowling it will have been a fair trade. I left a message last Saturday for the team captain telling him that I crewed up, but promising to show up this Saturday. I guess he could have called to to say don't bother, but then again maybe he figured that if I drove to Phoenix by mistake, it would serve me right. 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

Christian

On special occasions Mrs. Sneed lights these candles to commemorate the lives of Christian, his dad Jerry and step-sister Jennifer who all died in the accident.





Father's Day will always be a day of sad recollection, rather than celebration in the Sneed family.

You will recognize the ever-present Sneedlet One in the top photo. Pictured with him is his brother Christian, known to his family as Peanut. Christian was tragically killed in a motor vehicle accident on June 16th, 2002. We would be looking forward to his 12th birthday this fall.

There is a strong physical resemblance between Sneedlet and Christian. Although Sneedlet is only 3 and a half, his mannerisms, facial expression and demeanor are eerily similar to Christian's.

Each passing year blunts the hurt of his passing just a bit, but the hole he left in our lives will never close. The passage of time lets us look past our grief and appreciate him for the wonderful boy that he was. We miss him terribly and think of him every 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

Bad Ideas All Around

In case you need to know this or anything, it was one hundred and four degrees here in Our Fair City today. At nine pm local time it is still ninety-five. This is the time of the year when I ask myself how stupid must I be to spend the summer here? As if that wasn't hot enough, I have to drive to Phoenix tomorrow. It was one hundred ten degrees in Phoenix today. Luckily the forecast for tomorrow is only one hundred seven. Since the humidity is under ten percent in Arizona this time of the year, it feels a few degrees cooler than it really is. When it is one oh four, it doesn't feel much over one oh two. Why you may be asking would anyone drive to Phoenix, Arizona, the armpit of the nation? The hot and sweaty armpit to boot. As it happens, I have to go to the bowling tournament that I missed the first day of last Saturday. The team event is tomorrow, so I have to go or the other four guys will be pissed. Tomorrow will be the last time I ever drive to Phoenix...ever, do you here me? Ever! In other, non-weather related news, I often listen to a podcast of a program called The Story, hosted by a fellow named Dick Gordon. Mr. Gordon has a daily program produced by North Carolina Public Radio. The format is that Dick interviews someone each day who has a story to tell. It is often very interesting, although some of the stories seem a bit on the whiny side to me. For instance, he had a story this week about a Kentucky National Guardsman who lost his family home to foreclosure. The story has a heavy undercurrent of things not being fair, America not treating its returning vets appropriately and capitalism run amuck. After all, why should a soldier returning from Iraq have to face foreclosure? Shouldn't the government or the banks step in to help a brave warrior at least keep the roof over his head? Most people would think so. This fellow is married with three kids. His wife was employed at a mortgage company, where her boss convinced them that they could afford to buy this house with no money down. He signed them up for a 4.25% adjustable rate mortgage (ARM). Our soldier freely admits that he didn't really read the papers he signed and for sure didn't understand that his mortgage interest rate would continue to rise as the prime rate did. Mistake one was buying a house they couldn't afford. Mistake two was getting an ARM and mistake three was not understanding what they signed. The cardinal mistake, one so great it cannot be numbered, was taking advice from a mortgage guy. This guy was called up to duty and sent to Iraq sometime after they moved in. With his combat pay, his income increased over $800 per month after he was deployed. All the better, money-wise anyway. Unfortunately, while he was gone his wife quit her job (mistake four) and tried to start a business, which sounded suspiciously like it was selling Mary Kay cosmetics. She was an utter failure and ran up significant debt trying to keep the business going (mistake five). She also quit making the house payment to fund the business (mistake six). When our soldier returned from Iraq he began to try to dig out of the mess by getting a second job. His wife refused to ditch the business and get her own job, thinking that the business was ready to take off (mistake seven). Our guy tried to get the bank to restructure the loan but by then the ARM had adjusted way up and he was hopelessly behind, with no hope to catch it up. The bank foreclosed and that was that. Sad state of affairs. Dick asked this fellow if he thought that buying the house was a mistake in the first place and he said no. He thought that someone should have stepped in and help him and others like him keep their homes. I have to disagree. As I have posted many times, the only way to borrow for a home is with a fixed-rated, fully amortizing 15 or 30 year loan, using a reputable lender. If you have to resort to tricks to make it happen, it just isn't worth 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

As has become my habit, I took off work today to play golf. The Seafood King, Seafood Jr., some Guy Named Bob and I played at a real country club. No stinking municipal course for us. It was quite a joint really. The blazing heat here makes the golf market tight during the summer months. This means that the upper crust, who would normally politely and firmly tell us to get off their property, lest they have their people call the police, welcome us with open arms and forced good cheer. I was happy with how I played today. I had my moments, which is all I can really hope for. Besides I wasn't at work. Later in the afternoon, Son Sneed and I went to meet with his attorney from the public defenders office. She was very supportive of and sympathetic toward Son Sneed and held out hope that his case will be resolved without him having to do too much hard time. Just kidding. she is going to talk to the prosecutor's office to see what can be worked out. One thing we did learn today was that the arresting officer is a known pain-in-the-ass around the courthouse. He apparently has a history of being a hard ass and not being what you would call real understanding. That was good to hear, since it confirmed my conclusion. I am optimistic that this will work out. Mrs. Sneed went to get her eyes examined today and discovered that the glasses that she has been wearing for a couple of years were made incorrectly. Her vision was corrected for nearsightedness in one eye and farsightedness in the other. Unfortunately she is nearsighted in both. The screwed up glasses came from Costco Optical, part of the Costso Warehouse empire. We drove down to Costco tonight so that she could complain about the glasses to them. They cheerfully acknowledged their screw up and refunded the cost of the lenses. No hassle at all. That is just darned good customer service. 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 Day In Court

The last two best policemen.


Warning! The following is an emotion-driven and at times, a slightly irrational rant of a father who believes his son was treated unfairly.

As I have gotten older I find my support for the legal system in general and the police in particular waning. We are taught from our first day in school that the police are our friends and that an accused is presumed innocent until judged to be guilty in a court of law. It ain't always so.

Your typical policeman is a hard-working and honest man or woman doing the best they can in a difficult job. Typically he or she has been selected for training as a police officer because he or she possesses a certain skill set and mindset that suits policework. Then they are molded to the police way, the presumption of innocence is replaced by the suspicion of guilt and they are immersed in a culture where it is them against the world. When dealing with the police you are guilty until you prove you are not. I will come back to this point in a minute.

Son Sneed and I had to attend a hearing today to determine whether or not his driver's license should be revoked for the high crime of not being able to urinate upon command. The hearing had nothing whatever to do with his pending DUI case. It was necessitated by the decision of a lone officer to suspend Son Sneed's license, simply because that was the easy way out for him.

The sad sacks who legislate our state came up with the notion that refusing to take a urine test as a part of a DUI investigation, is in and of itself, grounds for license revocation. It is obvious what the intent is and the idea is sound. Who wants drunk drivers beating the rap simply by refusing to be tested? Not me, and I am guessing not my fellow citizens.

Unfortunately, like all powers vested in the police, this one has been abused by some of our more overzealous officers. They have expanded the definition of refused to include couldn't, simply because the law says "doesn't complete" in addition to "refused". In the world of the police, which has no shades of gray when it comes to the public, you either peed or you didn't.

It is interesting to me that the police routinely get a court order to take blood when a suspect refuses a urine test. In Son Sneed's situation, the officer was just too lazy to even accept a blood test, when it was offered. Our police will cheerfully tell you that they don't have to take blood if they don't feel like doing so. That is the criterion, their feelings about the matter.

The hearing today was stacked against Son Sneed in a way that made it impossible for him to raise a defense. He and I had gathered what evidence we could. He takes a particular drug, Risperdal, that has the common side effect of making urination difficult. We brought that literature and his prescription records. We innocently thought that his honest testimony, his willingness to take a blood test and the literature about side effects of Risperdal, would win the day.

The hearing began with the judge instructing me that I was not to speak during the course of the hearing. I could sit beside Son Sneed, as moral support, but that was to be the extent of my involvement. That meant that it would be the testimony of a professional witness, the cop, against a mentally ill guy who was scared out of his mind. Seems fair to me.

Of course he could have hired an attorney to accompany him, but he didn't have the $2500 that it would cost. The state won't provide legal help to indigent or disabled defendants in civil matters. State of Arizona and the police of Our Fair City versus a mentally ill guy who was scared out of his mind. Again, a fair match.

The cop gave his testimony first. He went over the facts of the case. Young Sneed and I agree that he shouldn't have been driving, given that he hadn't slept for three days, but that was not the issue at hand today. The cop said that he took Son Sneed to the police station after he passed the Breathalyzer because his physical condition was consistent with inebriation, yet he wasn't drunk. He had concluded that the boy was on some mind-altering substance and he was determined to prove it. He began with the answer in mind.

The cop offered into evidence some written tests he had administered. He testified that he instructed Son Sneed to write the even numbers from two to twenty, the complete alphabet, the date and year, to sign his name and then print his name, all on a single sheet of paper. He told Son Sneed that once he began writing, he couldn't repeat the instructions. He testified that Son Sneed made a mistake on one number and had to write over that number with the correct one. He added that Son Sneed forgot to print his name on the bottom of the page. The cop said this was an indication of impairment. Ever meet a mentally ill person who was confused? In the field of assessment this is known as a horse shit test. A technical term.

Mr. Policeman readily admitted that once at the station, he grew tired of waiting for Son Sneed to pee in the cup and decided to marked him down as a refusal. The judged asked if Son Sneed actually refused and the cop said no. Then it was Son Sneed's turn to testify.

Son Sneed told the judge that he didn't refuse, but couldn't go. He said that he asked for a blood test and offered to stay at the police station until he could pee, but that the cop refused both offers. Son Sneed told the judge that he went to the hospital following his release and had to be catheterized in order to urinate. The judge told him that what happened after he left the police station was immaterial. It seems that in order for the catheterization to be material to the case, the emergency room staff would have had to come to the police station to do it.

Son Sneed tried to explain the side effects of Risperdal, the drug that has the effect of inhibiting urination. The judge said that without expert testimony he would not accept it as evidence. Evidently, we should have gotten his doctor to appear in support of Son Sneed. I am not sure he would agree to do so since he fired Son Sneed as a patient while he was in the hospital a couple of weeks ago, citing liability concerns. Nice guy.

Son Sneed tried to explain that the hospital would not release his records nor cooperate in any way with him in establishing his case. They claim that there is a federal law that allows them to withhold the records of mental patients. The judge made it clear that he didn't believe that. I blurted something out, trying to be supportive and he told me to be quiet.

In the end, Son Sneed was left with the inescapable conclusion that he is doomed, or at least his driver's license is. The cop could have saved him this turmoil by listening to him and showing a little compassion. Instead he chose to be a hard ass.

The judge told Son Sneed that if the ruling goes against him, he can appeal to Superior Court. That takes money he doesn't have, so he is throwing in the towel should the worse happen. The life of a mentally ill person is very difficult and the system does little to ease the difficulty.

If I seem a tad bitter, it is because I am. The mentally ill have very few people advocating for them and a bunch of people making matters worse, the police included.

So, the next time I get a call to support the Fraternal Order of Police or the Police Widows and Orphans, I'll have to say no thanks. That is unless they appear in my living room and pee into a cup upon command. Then I might kick in a buck or two.






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

Container Irrigation

I wrote yesterday that I am a fan of container gardening. I don't really have a choice in our current home because we don't have any space for a real garden. Our home was built as an in-fill project in the city. Ched asked via a comment about irrigation systems for containers. As it happens, I have all my plants on a drip irrigation system. I don't hand water anything in the yard or patio.

I use a drip irrigations system connected to our house water supply and controlled by a timer, shown above.



The timer opens the valves that allow the water to flow to the plants on a schedule. Left to my own devices, I would water irregularly. One of our local gardening experts advises watering containers twice per day, due to the extreme heat, but since I have shaded much of the patio, I haven't found that necessary yet. I water at 4:30 am so that the plants get the most from the water, before any evaporates. I have one valve for the front yard and one for the patio.





I use a 1/2" plastic tubing from each valve to deliver the water supply around the perimeter of the area I am watering and it acts as a backbone for the system. You can see the pipe in this picture. Some of it is run under the eaves of my porch and down the wall. Much of it is buried, where I have acess to the earth. At each plant container I branch off the main tube with a 1/8" tube, also visible in the picture.





The small tubes have emitters on the end that drip a specific flow to the plants. I use 2 gallon or 4 gallon per hour emitters depending on the plant. In this picture you can see the button emitters. I have (2) 2-gallon per hour emitters on this rose tree. I deliver about a gallon of water each day to this plant. Any more and it just runs through the pot.



I have a single emitter on this Sweet Potato Vine.









On larger plants I use a soaker tube, rather than an emitter. I think it distributes the water more evenly. I loop it around the perimeter of the pot.











I am pleased with the results I get using this method.


There are systems that are more complex and some that are far simpler. I have seen a controller that screws directly on a faucet and the 1/2" tubing runs from that. It is battery operated and good for light duty use.

Whatever the method, the key to growing plants in our hot and dry climate is appropriate watering and good fertilizing.



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

Master Gardener Applicant

I took these pictures this morning at the Garden Center. I am a big fan of container gardening.



I called the Cooperative Extension Service this morning to get an application for the Master Gardener training. They told me that I could pick it up or they would mail it. Since I work a mile from the Garden Center, I decided to run over and get it.

The coordinator of the program told me that they usually get 85 or 90 applications for the 35 slots that will be available. I am optimistic about my chances since one question asked for times when I wouldn't be available. Because I don't have a life, I am always available. Plus they asked if I had any teaching experience. That seems like a big plus for me.

I may have hurt my chances when I showed up in my homemade Master Gardener superhero suit, complete with cape and Viking helmet. The epaulets might have been over the top, because I noticed a lot of eye rolling.

I added in the "special considerations" section that I own my own shovel and rake and that I can bring my wheelbarrow if they have a bike pump I can use. Plus, my best friend in the sixth grade, Edward Smith, lived on a farm. They're going to let me know.

The weather here in Our Fair city has been odd today. We had rain, which is very unusual for this early in June. Our rainy season is not for another month. It was also unseasonably cool. Our typical high for June 11 is 100 degrees F. Our actual high was 87 degrees. Unheard of.

On the job front, I have 18 calendar days to go. there are 14 workdays and 11 days that I will actually be at work, since I plan on taking three days off. Randall Bing will not tell us his secret plan to cover my work when I am gone, so I am moving it to my coworkers myself. Anything that I cannot get to by the 29th is being farmed off to the survivors.

Randall is an odd bird. He likes to give the illusion of managing our work group, but he doesn't really do anything. I have not spoken to him in more than week, which seems odd. If I didn't show up for the next week, I doubt he would notice. Wait, that's an idea.




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 lot of people are asking me what I intend to do once I am retired from Tedious Systems. I intend to play more golf, work on my plants, do the housework, bowl and hang out. I feel like I just need some time off. I would like to get back to walking on a regular basis. I used to walk everyday and it was fun and good for me. I would also like to take some more pictures and learn more about the desert around me. I saw an article in our local paper today that piqued my interest. The University of Arizona's Cooperative Extension Service has a Master Gardner program and they are accepting applications for the fall program. The goal of the program is to certify Master Gardeners, who then work with the Extension Service community programs. I'm going to call tomorrow and get an application. I spent the weekend working on the patio. Sneedlet and I went to the nursery on Saturday and bought a bunch of plants and some pots. The back patio really looks nice. Yesterday I took both of the Sneedlets to the mall playground. Older Son Sneed and our daughter-in-law were shopping for clothes. They left with her parents today for a cruise. They will be back next Sunday. Back to work tomorrow, only 15 days left. Yippee! 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

This Is Why I Need A Personal Assistant

Longtime followers of the Sneed blog are well aware that Sneedlet One had a lot of hair. Today was haircut day for him. I think the results are a huge improvement.





I had a totally embarrassing thing happen to me today. I was supposed to be at a bowling tournament in Phoenix and I messed up the start time, leaving my partner stranded there alone. This was not a single screw up by me, but was the culmination of several mistakes on my part.

I am the sort of person who doesn't make these type of mistakes as a rule, so it is very disconcerting to me to have done so. Plus, I will have to deal with the other guys, who will conclude that I simply blew them off.

Each year the state bowling association holds the statewide tournament, either in Phoenix or Tucson. Two years ago it was in Tucson, last year in Phoenix and I when I agreed to participate this year, I assumed that it would be in Tucson. My first mistake. Only after I had committed to bowl and my teammates had made the arrangements, did I realize that it was in Phoenix this year. I tried to back out, but we couldn't find a replacement bowler.

The format of the tournament is that there are three sessions of bowling. There is a singles event, where you bowl three games as an individual, a doubles event where you bowl with a partner and a five-man team event. The singles and doubles events are held one day and the team event is on a second day. That's the rub for me. Two days in Phoenix.

Normally, we bowl the tournament on consecutive days, Saturday and Sunday. So it is either drive back and forth to Phoenix twice or stay overnight, neither an appealing option to me. After last year I vowed never to travel to Phoenix to bowl again.

I knew that we were bowling in the team event on June 16th, next Saturday. I made the assumption that we were bowling the other events on the 17th, which also happens to be Father's Day. That was my second mistake. This morning when I got up just before six, I happen to glance at the paperwork for the tournament that has been hanging in the kitchen for two months and discovered that I was supposed to be in Glendale, AZ at 8:00 am. Since it is a three plus hour drive, I was screwed, so I called and left a message, along with my apologies.

This reminded me of another famous no-show incident I was involved in. I slept through an FBI stakeout, showing up in time to see the stakeout shut down and the agents leave.

Most people would not associate me with an FBI stakeout unless I was the suspect, but I was on the FBI side in this case.

Back in the 1970s when electronic monitoring was far less sophisticated than it is today, I was recruited by the FBI to provide technical assistance in an attempt to catch an extortionist. This guy was threatening to disrupt the water service here in our fair city unless he was paid a bunch of money. I was helping to pinpoint the location of pay telephones that he was using to make calls to the local water authorities.

We worked late into the night one night, communicating with him as he moved about the city from pay phone to pay phone. At about ten in the evening, he suddenly announced that he was done talking and would call back at five the next morning. I was sent home, with instructions to be at the FBI command post at four-thirty the next morning. I woke up at five minutes until five.

I threw on my clothes and sped downtown, ran up five flights of stairs, arriving just in time for the agent in charge to tell me that I was late and that the guy was in custody. Talk about humiliation. My big chance to impress the Feds and I impress them as a moron. Story of my life.







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

Mental Health Court.

Aren't these nice?



This just in from the Sneed News Network. Paris Hilton may be crazy.

In other news, Son Sneed and I went to his hearing at mental health court yesterday. Our fair city has a special court to adjudicate the legal cases of the mentally ill. The dynamics of mental illness court are not your usual court stuff.

For one thing, the judge didn't seem too concerned about order in the court. There were about 20 lawyers, several clerks and about 20 defendants present and most of them were talking, all at the same time.

The judge marched into court via the regular courtroom door carrying a large brown box. he I didn't realize that he was the judge until climbed up on the bench, ripped open the box, and removed and held up a judge's robe for everyone to see. He put on the robe and we were off. It was as if he had been sent over from central casting.

The defendants were all talking to one another or their lawyers. The two women sitting in front of us were trying out one another's makeup. A woman named Mary, who seemed to be homeless kept yelling out at various court officials in an effort to show them a crumpled slip of paper containing her most recent address. Mary never stopped moving or talking. She claimed to be 50 but could easily pass for 80. At one point Mary stood up and shouted hello at the judge, calling him by his last name only. "Hi Smith!" He responded with a weary, "Hello, Mary".

Son Sneed and I sat in the last row, along with one other person, a woman engrossed in a paperback novel. At one point a scary looking guy with a million tattoos came in and walked directly to where we were sitting and told us to make some room so others could sit down. Then he sat in the row in front of us. He never removed his sunglasses and never spoke another word that I heard.

Son Sneed was called and upon the request of his public defender, he was given a new court date for July 3rd. He has a conference with his lawyer next week, so the saga continues.

The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob and I played golf at seven this morning. Seafood, Jr. was ill. We had unusually cool weather this morning so it was pleasant. My golf was much improved, which makes it so much more fun. Some Guy Named Bob has us signed up for a fund-raising tournament tomorrow, so I will be taking another half day of my vacation to play in that.

If the geniuses at Tedious Systems could think outside of their corporate box I could get behind this working half days. Unfortunately, they can't. I actually sent an email to the president of Tedious telling him that I was retiring and thought he should consider a program to retain guys like me through flexible work arrangements. His reply simply said, "Have a GREAT retirement." I guess he isn't too broken up about my departure.







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