Just few minutes remain in 2008, at least here in the desert. The new year has already arrived for those east of us and for my blog friend Ms. Soup 'down under', 2009 is already yesterday's news.
I didn't expect to be awake to ring in 2009, but events conspired to make it so. The awake part anyway. I won't be doing any ringing in.
Let's face it, 2008 had way more downs than ups for our country, so we are starting at the bottom in our hopes for the new year, which is a good place to begin on the road to better times.
2008 was a historic year, both in the historic turmoil in the economy and in the historic rise of a black man to the Presidency. There are lessons in each and in the end we will all be better for both.
The Sneeds had a very good year. There was the wedding of Greg and Daughter Sneed and the birth of our little doll, Riley. Both Mrs. Sneed and our daughter received their Masters Degrees this Spring.
On a personal note, I made a bunch of new blog acquaintances from whom I learned a lot. I continued my meteoric rise the the retail hardware field. The betting pool on when I would get fired has shut down, so I must be permanent.
We paid off the house, long a goal of mine. We may wind up broke, hungry and in the dark, but they can't toss us out on the street.
I'm sorry if this sounds like one of those annoying Christmas letters.
My brother-in-law sent me a link of a guy named Uncle Jay, reviewing 2008. Maybe you've seen Uncle Jay's videos, I hadn't.
On behalf of the staff and management of the Merle Wayne Sneed blog and Mr. Sneed himself, I wish you a happy and more prosperous 2009!
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
Dec 31, 2008
Dec 30, 2008
I'm convinced that only the trusty hardware man stands between certain people and catastrophe. Either through ignorance, stupidity or excessive frugality, calamitous plans are hatched everyday by the homeowning public. Plans which left undeterred, will result in mayhem.
I heard a coworker say this to a customer today. "Sure you can do that if your plan is to burn the house down." The reply was, "For real?"
This customer wanted to know if she could just put a 30 amp fuse in her fuse box because the 15 amp fuses kept blowing. We answer this question a lot.
Many of the homes in our area are old and still have fuse boxes, as opposed to circuit breakers, so we sell a lot of fuses.
Most people don't really understand why there are fuses in an electrical circuit anyway. It is quite simple. The only reason for a fuse or a circuit breaker is to keep you from overloading a circuit and causing a fire. When a fuse blows, it means that there is too much current passing through the wiring at a given moment, given the size (called its gauge). In the absence of the correct sized fuse, overloading the circuit makes the wire overheat and become a fire hazard.
Aren't you glad you asked? Oh, you didn't?
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
I heard a coworker say this to a customer today. "Sure you can do that if your plan is to burn the house down." The reply was, "For real?"
This customer wanted to know if she could just put a 30 amp fuse in her fuse box because the 15 amp fuses kept blowing. We answer this question a lot.
Many of the homes in our area are old and still have fuse boxes, as opposed to circuit breakers, so we sell a lot of fuses.
Most people don't really understand why there are fuses in an electrical circuit anyway. It is quite simple. The only reason for a fuse or a circuit breaker is to keep you from overloading a circuit and causing a fire. When a fuse blows, it means that there is too much current passing through the wiring at a given moment, given the size (called its gauge). In the absence of the correct sized fuse, overloading the circuit makes the wire overheat and become a fire hazard.
Aren't you glad you asked? Oh, you didn't?
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
Dec 29, 2008
Someday I would like to have a house with adequate storage space. But of course that won't happen because, (a) there is no such thing and, (b) I'm never moving. Casa Sneed ain't all that, but it's paid for.
So, today I spent the afternoon putting up shelves in the laundry room. These are they.
Technically, only the top shelf that wraps around the room is new. The bottom one was there already but after nearly 14 years of service, it was a bit dogeared. So, I changed it too. Now it all looks the same, more or less.
I also ran into my old friend (literally my old friend) Chuck. Chuck just turned 90. He used to join us for lunch every week, but for the past few weeks he has been a no-show. Our waitress is a friend of Chuck's and gives us regular updates on him, so I knew was alive.
Anyway, I ran into the old guy at the hardware store this morning. I went in to get some hardware for the shelf project and there he was, buying spray paint.
Chuck launched into a nonstop monologue about where he has been and what he has been up to. He told me that his son recently bought a Ninetendo Wii and he has become addicted to it.
"I can't stop playing it!"
Since today was our regular lunch day, I told him to 'be there or be square', but he was on his way to the casino and begged off. The guy's a hoot.
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
So, today I spent the afternoon putting up shelves in the laundry room. These are they.
Technically, only the top shelf that wraps around the room is new. The bottom one was there already but after nearly 14 years of service, it was a bit dogeared. So, I changed it too. Now it all looks the same, more or less.
I also ran into my old friend (literally my old friend) Chuck. Chuck just turned 90. He used to join us for lunch every week, but for the past few weeks he has been a no-show. Our waitress is a friend of Chuck's and gives us regular updates on him, so I knew was alive.
Anyway, I ran into the old guy at the hardware store this morning. I went in to get some hardware for the shelf project and there he was, buying spray paint.
Chuck launched into a nonstop monologue about where he has been and what he has been up to. He told me that his son recently bought a Ninetendo Wii and he has become addicted to it.
"I can't stop playing it!"
Since today was our regular lunch day, I told him to 'be there or be square', but he was on his way to the casino and begged off. The guy's a hoot.
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
Dec 28, 2008
Decorating for Christmas is swell until you have to un-decorate. That will be coming up on New Year's Day.
Actually, Mrs. Sneed will do most of the un-decorating. Since she did most of the decorating, okay all the decorating, it seems only fair that she take it down.
I will have to carry the boxes out to the shed and figure out how to cram all the stuff in it. It's what I like to call, "the hard part."
Something else.
I rarely watch live TV, thanks to the invention of TIVO, but when I do I'm always left with the same thought. It is impossible to switch on a program during its live run time and not find it in the middle of a commercial. How is that possible? Pick any channel and switch to it at random if you don't believe me.
A few words about football.
Blogger Megan and I shared a hope for today. We hoped that the Phildelphia Eagles would pound the Dallas Cowboys in their big game today. Both the Eagles and Cowboys had an opportunity to be the last team in the playoffs with a win. The Eagles came through and smashed the Cowboys.
Even by the NFL's low standards for character, the Cowboys are a dysfunctional mess. I heard someone refer to them today as the Cowgirls, which I think insults both cows and girls.
It doesn't help that the Seafood King is a huge Cowboy fan who doesn't get that 50-year-old men are not supposed to still be super fans. When he talks about the Cowboys, he says "we" and "us", as though he's suiting up next week or has an ownership interest in the team.
Since it is the Christmas season, I have one last thought. Many men and to a lesser extent, women, got pro sports attire for Christmas. Many are unfamiliar with the dress code as it applies to these items.
It is inappropriate for grown men and women to appear in public wearing sports jerseys. I'm setting the limit at 25. Any older than that, I don't want to see you at the mall or in the grocery store wearing a jersey with "Romo" or "Manning" on the back. It looks ridiculous.
Just trying to help out.
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
Dec 27, 2008
Perhaps you are asking, "Hey, Merle Wayne Sneed, how did that Visa Debit Card business work out for you?"
Glad you asked. So far it sucks to be me, vis-à-vis the Visa, anyway.
I went to my credit union yesterday and signed an affidavit, swearing I was not at the Food Lion #786, 10 Village Center Rd., Reisterstown, MD., on 12/24/2008 and did not spend $423.80 of my hard-earned cash there. Then, I had to make a report to the local police, documenting the incident.
Perhaps you are wondering why I had to make a police report, since it is impossible that any one at the Hooterville Police Department actually gives a crap about some criminals in Maryland and my Visa Debit Card.
Well, they make people report these things to keep the victims honest. The thinking goes that if I have to report a theft to the coppers, I'm less likely to make stuff up. The reality is, that except for the really big fish in the identity theft business, no one tries to catch the thieves. For Visa it is a cost of doing business.
Anyway, all the paperwork is done and in ten short days, more or less, I will get the missing money back. It is an inconvenience, not a huge deal to me, but for many people this sort of thing could really mess up their finances.
I asked if I could restrict my card to PIN number transactions only, but Visa won't go for it. Evidently the money they lose to fraud, is more than made up for by the additional business that is generated by letting anyone, anywhere use anyone's card number.
Ain't Visa great?
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
Glad you asked. So far it sucks to be me, vis-à-vis the Visa, anyway.
I went to my credit union yesterday and signed an affidavit, swearing I was not at the Food Lion #786, 10 Village Center Rd., Reisterstown, MD., on 12/24/2008 and did not spend $423.80 of my hard-earned cash there. Then, I had to make a report to the local police, documenting the incident.
Perhaps you are wondering why I had to make a police report, since it is impossible that any one at the Hooterville Police Department actually gives a crap about some criminals in Maryland and my Visa Debit Card.
Well, they make people report these things to keep the victims honest. The thinking goes that if I have to report a theft to the coppers, I'm less likely to make stuff up. The reality is, that except for the really big fish in the identity theft business, no one tries to catch the thieves. For Visa it is a cost of doing business.
Anyway, all the paperwork is done and in ten short days, more or less, I will get the missing money back. It is an inconvenience, not a huge deal to me, but for many people this sort of thing could really mess up their finances.
I asked if I could restrict my card to PIN number transactions only, but Visa won't go for it. Evidently the money they lose to fraud, is more than made up for by the additional business that is generated by letting anyone, anywhere use anyone's card number.
Ain't Visa great?
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
Dec 25, 2008
Christmas is when you get visited by angels,
and little boys become superheroes,
or travel to galaxies far, far away.
Cats wonder why there aren't more cat movies,
and old men remember how lucky they are.
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
and little boys become superheroes,
or travel to galaxies far, far away.
Cats wonder why there aren't more cat movies,
and old men remember how lucky they are.
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
Dec 24, 2008
The Sneed family Christmas Eve party just broke up. I can tell you one thing for sure, the Hooterville cops have no sense of humor.
Enough about Christmas though. You may recall that I recently wrote a post in praise of credit unions in general and mine in particular. While I still believe that credit unions are great, they are not perfect and can be downright bank-like in their moments of ineptness.
My day started at about seven with a call from the fine folks at the Visa fraud monitoring unit letting me know that my debit card had been canceled because some criminals in Maryland had used it to make a $423 purchase at something called Food Lion. They also attempted a second charge of $425, which tipped off Visa that something was up. The Visa person said that they had blocked both bogus charges.
Their advice was to contact my credit union and order a new card, which will take a week to reach me. Glad tomorrow isn't a major holiday requiring some last minute purchases or anything. Luckily, I have that sweet $22 in cash to tide me over until I can get to the branch on Friday.
When the credit union opened at nine, I called and told them the story, as I understood it and asked for a new debit card.
As it turns out, the local credit union folks were told by Visa back on the 19th of December that my card was among a bunch of cards that someone had 'compromised' though a merchant. Their solution was to order me a new card, but not tell me what was up. They claim they didn't want to inconvenience me. I would have canceled my card back on the 19th, but hey, what do I know about the world of high finance?
Plus, they say that the original $423 was taken from my account and I should come right in and sign a fraud victim affidavit so that they can return my money to me. Oh, and it must be done within 10 days or I'm screwed. The representative suggested I come right in. No inconvenience there.
If these jackasses had taken the time to tell me all of this back on the 19th, we could have avoided most of the inconvenience that they were trying to prevent.
Oh yeah, when I went to the branch at one o'clock this afternoon on my lunch break, I discovered that they were closed early for Christmas Eve. That was really convenient and another good thing to have mentioned when they were urging me to come right in.
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
Enough about Christmas though. You may recall that I recently wrote a post in praise of credit unions in general and mine in particular. While I still believe that credit unions are great, they are not perfect and can be downright bank-like in their moments of ineptness.
My day started at about seven with a call from the fine folks at the Visa fraud monitoring unit letting me know that my debit card had been canceled because some criminals in Maryland had used it to make a $423 purchase at something called Food Lion. They also attempted a second charge of $425, which tipped off Visa that something was up. The Visa person said that they had blocked both bogus charges.
Their advice was to contact my credit union and order a new card, which will take a week to reach me. Glad tomorrow isn't a major holiday requiring some last minute purchases or anything. Luckily, I have that sweet $22 in cash to tide me over until I can get to the branch on Friday.
When the credit union opened at nine, I called and told them the story, as I understood it and asked for a new debit card.
As it turns out, the local credit union folks were told by Visa back on the 19th of December that my card was among a bunch of cards that someone had 'compromised' though a merchant. Their solution was to order me a new card, but not tell me what was up. They claim they didn't want to inconvenience me. I would have canceled my card back on the 19th, but hey, what do I know about the world of high finance?
Plus, they say that the original $423 was taken from my account and I should come right in and sign a fraud victim affidavit so that they can return my money to me. Oh, and it must be done within 10 days or I'm screwed. The representative suggested I come right in. No inconvenience there.
If these jackasses had taken the time to tell me all of this back on the 19th, we could have avoided most of the inconvenience that they were trying to prevent.
Oh yeah, when I went to the branch at one o'clock this afternoon on my lunch break, I discovered that they were closed early for Christmas Eve. That was really convenient and another good thing to have mentioned when they were urging me to come right in.
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
Dec 23, 2008
I'm happy to report that my copy of OPE has finally made it to my mailbox. It's a long haul to the desert.
It promises to be a cold and wet Christmas day here in Hooterville. It rained all day today and it is forecast to continue on Thursday, after a brief break tomorrow.
I will be saving OPE for Christmas day, after we come home from our visit to Daughter Sneed's joint. It will make a lovely afternoon reading and rereading this fine publication. You simply cannot get all the chuckles in from a single reading. I hope I can wait until Thursday.
I will be leaving OPE out for Santa, along with his cookies and milk. This technically violates Mr. Kurt's rule about sharing one's copy of OPE, but I'm hoping he will cut St. Nick a bit of slack. Santa needs a chuckle after all that gift wrangling.
But, let's take a break from all this Christmas related stuff and allow me to complain about a totally different subject. Bosses. Not my boss in particular mind you, but bosses in general. Okay, my boss in particular.
Have you ever noticed that one of the tricks bosses use to avoid dealing with a problem, is to make the employees log the occurrences of that problem, knowing full well that we will get tired of logging stuff and they won't have to fix it? I've seen it a million times.
Most bosses have their own boss, whom they fear and are loath to upset, lest they find themselves back among the little people...or worse. So should one of the underlings raise a problem, the instinct of a boss is to keep it from reaching the ears of the person they fear most.
For instance, suppose you have a piece of equipment that is vital to your job, but about 50% of the time when you need it to work, it doesn't. So you complain to the boss that we need a new one or at a minimum a different one.
He or she will first explain to you that 'no one else' has said they have a problem with the device. So, you have round up a few supporting witnesses to corroborate your story.
Now the boss has a dilemma. She can go to her boss and tell him that this piece of crap is hosing up productivity, but that risks making the bigger boss mad, because fixing it will cost money. Plus, it was working fine when he bought it. If it's broken, someone must have broken it. At least in the eyes of the big boss.
So instead, the wily boss will create a trouble log, where we can document the instances of trouble. That way, we can provide specific information to the big boss and the problem can be handled or so the theory goes.
Our log is still hanging on the wall of the back room. We have given up writing the problems up and the piece of crap is still busted.
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
It promises to be a cold and wet Christmas day here in Hooterville. It rained all day today and it is forecast to continue on Thursday, after a brief break tomorrow.
I will be saving OPE for Christmas day, after we come home from our visit to Daughter Sneed's joint. It will make a lovely afternoon reading and rereading this fine publication. You simply cannot get all the chuckles in from a single reading. I hope I can wait until Thursday.
I will be leaving OPE out for Santa, along with his cookies and milk. This technically violates Mr. Kurt's rule about sharing one's copy of OPE, but I'm hoping he will cut St. Nick a bit of slack. Santa needs a chuckle after all that gift wrangling.
But, let's take a break from all this Christmas related stuff and allow me to complain about a totally different subject. Bosses. Not my boss in particular mind you, but bosses in general. Okay, my boss in particular.
Have you ever noticed that one of the tricks bosses use to avoid dealing with a problem, is to make the employees log the occurrences of that problem, knowing full well that we will get tired of logging stuff and they won't have to fix it? I've seen it a million times.
Most bosses have their own boss, whom they fear and are loath to upset, lest they find themselves back among the little people...or worse. So should one of the underlings raise a problem, the instinct of a boss is to keep it from reaching the ears of the person they fear most.
For instance, suppose you have a piece of equipment that is vital to your job, but about 50% of the time when you need it to work, it doesn't. So you complain to the boss that we need a new one or at a minimum a different one.
He or she will first explain to you that 'no one else' has said they have a problem with the device. So, you have round up a few supporting witnesses to corroborate your story.
Now the boss has a dilemma. She can go to her boss and tell him that this piece of crap is hosing up productivity, but that risks making the bigger boss mad, because fixing it will cost money. Plus, it was working fine when he bought it. If it's broken, someone must have broken it. At least in the eyes of the big boss.
So instead, the wily boss will create a trouble log, where we can document the instances of trouble. That way, we can provide specific information to the big boss and the problem can be handled or so the theory goes.
Our log is still hanging on the wall of the back room. We have given up writing the problems up and the piece of crap is still busted.
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
Dec 22, 2008
I hope you people are proud of yourselves. I just heard that holiday retail sales will be the worst in maybe forty years.
It was our, and by our, I mean your responsibility to go out and spend money, you may not actually, have buying tons of crap people don't want, in order to assuage our (mostly your) guilt. You people are failures. It's no wonder this country is a mess.
In other news, I heard an interesting argument about Christmas today. It was on a radio program.
On one hand are some Christian-type people who are pissed that Jesus has been shoved out of Christmas by money grubbing capitalists and secularists. Or so they claim. Santa is not Jesus, as I understand their complaint. Who knew?
On a side note, a plea to either guy will get you about the same result. Okay, that was uncalled for.
On the other hand are some Christian-type people who are pissed because some other Christian-type people include Santa in their Christmas celebration. As previously noted Santa is not Jesus.
On the third hand, are the people who are pissed because all Christian-type people have latched on to a perfectly good pagan mid-winter celebration and turned it into a religion fest.
I have just one question. Who has three hands?
Here is a link for the freakiest among those who have an axe to grind with the whole mid-winter/solstice/Christmas celebration. You will have copy and paste the link and then scroll down the article to find the video. Blogger won't allow me to hot link the page. Evidently they hate Santa too.
http://www.layscience.net/node/421
And remember two things this holiday season. Santa is not Jesus and Jesus is not Santa, and God hates fags and apparently likes ignorant white trash assholes, at least according to the ignorant white trash assholes.
Merry whatever to one and all!
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
It was our, and by our, I mean your responsibility to go out and spend money, you may not actually, have buying tons of crap people don't want, in order to assuage our (mostly your) guilt. You people are failures. It's no wonder this country is a mess.
In other news, I heard an interesting argument about Christmas today. It was on a radio program.
On one hand are some Christian-type people who are pissed that Jesus has been shoved out of Christmas by money grubbing capitalists and secularists. Or so they claim. Santa is not Jesus, as I understand their complaint. Who knew?
On a side note, a plea to either guy will get you about the same result. Okay, that was uncalled for.
On the other hand are some Christian-type people who are pissed because some other Christian-type people include Santa in their Christmas celebration. As previously noted Santa is not Jesus.
On the third hand, are the people who are pissed because all Christian-type people have latched on to a perfectly good pagan mid-winter celebration and turned it into a religion fest.
I have just one question. Who has three hands?
Here is a link for the freakiest among those who have an axe to grind with the whole mid-winter/solstice/Christmas celebration. You will have copy and paste the link and then scroll down the article to find the video. Blogger won't allow me to hot link the page. Evidently they hate Santa too.
http://www.layscience.net/node/421
And remember two things this holiday season. Santa is not Jesus and Jesus is not Santa, and God hates fags and apparently likes ignorant white trash assholes, at least according to the ignorant white trash assholes.
Merry whatever to one and all!
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
Dec 21, 2008
You may recognize this picture as the Sun. NASA certainly did when they took this picture and put it in the public domain, where I promptly borrowed it.
A number of my blogger friends posted today about the winter solstice, which occurs sometime this week, possibly even today, depending upon the high pressure system that is over us at this time. Unless it weakens and allows a cooling trend, we might not see the solstice until later in the week. Or so I'm told.
The winter solstice has long been celebrated as a time of new beginning, the trimuph of light over the darkness. The agrarian peoples looked forward to the longer days and the promise of a bounty come harvest. Even today, many people look forward to the promise of spring that the winter solstice holds. I call those people the 'glass half-full' crowd.
I, on the other hand, am a big fan of the days getting shorter. Every day after the winter solstice marks another step toward June, when the days are fourteen hours long and it stays over 100 degrees Fahrenheit until ten at night.
Of course, if I had made more of myself in life, I would spend the summer celebrating the San Diego solstice, instead of baking in Hooterville.
Happy Winter Solstice, whenever it happens where you live!
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
Dec 18, 2008
It never fails. Kip and Mindy of the Action News Team breathlessly tell us to run for the hills because of the heavy storm that is on its way, and what we actually get is nothing.
You may recall that heavy rain and bitter cold were headed our way. What we got was a sprinkling and some coolness. As storms go, this was a bust.
The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob and I headed to the golf course today, foul weather be damned. The weather turned very nice and most knuckleheads stayed home over fears of being pelted by frogs falling from the sky. We had the course to ourselves for the most part.
My jacket came off on the first hole, followed by the sweatshirt a few holes later. By the turn I was in shirt sleeves and the sun was shining.
Here's an ethical question for you. Suppose that you lived where the law mandated that all cars over 5 years old, be tested for emissions yearly, when the license plates are renewed. Further suppose that the renewal notice for your 8-year-old truck arrived and it was stamped, "No Emissions Test Required". Would you;
(A) Call the motor vehicle division and tell them that they made a mistake, because you are an upstanding citizen who values clean air,
or
(B) Renew your tag online asap and hope they never figure out their error?
Hint: My new tag came in the mail today.
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
You may recall that heavy rain and bitter cold were headed our way. What we got was a sprinkling and some coolness. As storms go, this was a bust.
The Seafood King, Some Guy Named Bob and I headed to the golf course today, foul weather be damned. The weather turned very nice and most knuckleheads stayed home over fears of being pelted by frogs falling from the sky. We had the course to ourselves for the most part.
My jacket came off on the first hole, followed by the sweatshirt a few holes later. By the turn I was in shirt sleeves and the sun was shining.
Here's an ethical question for you. Suppose that you lived where the law mandated that all cars over 5 years old, be tested for emissions yearly, when the license plates are renewed. Further suppose that the renewal notice for your 8-year-old truck arrived and it was stamped, "No Emissions Test Required". Would you;
(A) Call the motor vehicle division and tell them that they made a mistake, because you are an upstanding citizen who values clean air,
or
(B) Renew your tag online asap and hope they never figure out their error?
Hint: My new tag came in the mail today.
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
Dec 17, 2008
Here in Hooterville it is the calm before the storm. Literally. Our weather people are positively beside themselves over an approaching storm. It is supposed to rain, either yesterday, today or tomorrow. Since it rained neither yesterday or today, tomorrow looks to be a bad one.
Along with rain and possibly snow, we are expecting it to rain both frogs and blood. If you have ever been hit with a bloody, frozen frog, you know how bad it can be. I'm preparing for the blast of cold, bloody amphibians by getting out a jacket and finding some socks.
Here's something from the Christmas front.
I would never want to be labeled a cynic or an old grouch, but has anyone else noticed that every year Christmas toy drives claim that they are running way, way behind as we get near the holiday? Then, just when all hope seems lost, they pull things out and reach their goal. I don't mind giving to those in need, but I feel bit manipulated.
And lastly.
Noah, my little buddy, is here with us tonight, as he was last night. His daddy, Mr. P. has gotten himself hospitalized. He was stricken with a kidney stone attack last night and is waiting for it to be removed tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I don't wnat anything containing the word stone invading my body. Yikes!
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
Dec 16, 2008
I'm thinking of good manners and etiquette today.
For instance, one of the guys in the store got busted by a customer today for calling her honey and darling. That is not good, even I know that.
I got busted by the minders at the Hooterville Daily Dish, our morning paper for a remark I made via comment in the online edition, regarding Mormons and their propensity to go door-to-door evangelizing.
In response to an article about a problem encountered by one of these missionary Mormons, I suggested that this problem could be avoided if they would just stop riding their bikes all over creation bothering people. That turns out to be offensive in the minds of some. Go figure.
Some times it is just hard to know what will rile folks up and what won't.
For instance, I had to stop at the post office tonight and there was a Muslim woman alone in the lobby. I was not sure whether she would be offended if I came in or not. I never know how to handle these situations.
I went in but I stood a distance away, being careful to not make eye contact or anything. I was still looking away when she came right up to me and asked if she had placed the stamp correctly on the envelope? While I was buying my stamps, she came back up to me to ask when the last mail pickup was? So much for that theory.
I guess you just never know.
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
Dec 15, 2008
Rain is in our forecast and the incoming clouds created quite a dramatic sunset.
I don't like to brag or anything buy my credit union sent me a letter telling me that they will automatically cover any overdrafts in my checking account for a mere $28 a pop. Just because I am a valued customer, you see. The normal schmucks have to pay the $28 and their check gets returned to the payee without being honored.
First of all, among the few screw ups that I have avoided in my life is the bounced check, so their kind offer means little as far as I'm concerned. My strategy has always been, don't write checks on funds you don't have. A simple concept.
But heck, I don't write many checks anyway. I write one to Larry the Bug Man for $29.50 each month and one each to my two bowling leagues, about $80 each per month. Sometimes I pay for bowling in cash and Larry is the only check I write. Mrs. Sneed probably doesn't write any from her checking account. The debit card and bill pay have made checks near-obsolete, at least for us.
I suppose it is possible to overdraw using a debit card, but online account access makes that more difficult, assuming you check your account regularly.
I guess it kind of irritates me that we have substantial savings at this institution earning about 1% and yet they would stick me for $28 in the unlikely event we had a bad check or bad check-like event. This is why they get a bad name.
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
Dec 14, 2008
You have to admit that is one good-looking kid. And yes, the pictures will continue.
I've been thinking about this economic mess. No surprise there. How did our expectations get so out of control that so many of us were willing to go deeply in debt without considering the consequences? All for a bunch of stuff.
When did $30,000 cars and half million dollar homes become the standard in a country where the median household income is $45,000?
It seems to me that something is wrong with the American psyche when we place so much stock in having stuff and worrying so much when people aren't buying stuff.
Predictably, we are hearing news stories about how this is the worst shopping season in years. People are spending less and demanding more, blah, blah, blah.
Since I work in retail, I get that people not shopping equals people not working. The good thing about losing a retail job is that they aren't that hard to find.
An economy built on people buying stuff they can't afford, with money they don't have is not good for any of us.
Just saying.
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
Dec 13, 2008
Feliz Frickin' Navidad
Twelve Days to go until Christmas. Twelve more days of being driven to madness by Christmas music.
When you work retail and they play Christmas music endlessly, you grow to hate it...alot. Plus, if you work with an annoying bonehead who insists upon whistling along with the Muzak, it is just more than a guy should have to bear. Especially if that guy is me.
So, if I see Jose Feliciano on the street, I'm going to punch him. I don't care that he's blind. Ditto for Karen Carpenter and yes, I know she's technically dead.
How can you hate this lovely song, you might say? Just replay it a hundred times. That's how many times I heard it today.
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
When you work retail and they play Christmas music endlessly, you grow to hate it...alot. Plus, if you work with an annoying bonehead who insists upon whistling along with the Muzak, it is just more than a guy should have to bear. Especially if that guy is me.
So, if I see Jose Feliciano on the street, I'm going to punch him. I don't care that he's blind. Ditto for Karen Carpenter and yes, I know she's technically dead.
How can you hate this lovely song, you might say? Just replay it a hundred times. That's how many times I heard it today.
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
Dec 12, 2008
This has been a bad week for the self-proclaimed smart guys.
First we were introduced to soon-to-be-ex-Governor Blago. Do yourself a favor and read through the 76 page complaint filed against him. Selling Obama's Senate seat was just the tip of the iceberg. This joker and his main bagman, Tony Resko, shook down everyone who tried to do business with the state of Illinois.
Blago demanded donations to Friends of Blago, an organization apparently set up to launder his ill-gotten gain, or donations to his campaign. $50,000 was his favorite number.
The scope of the complaint is amazing and the smart people are betting that the we haven't heard the half of it.
Yesterday, I learned about a guy named Bernard Madoff. Lots of people will be having a really, really bad rest of their lives because Mr. Madoff, a seeming upstanding financier and money manager swindled his investors out of about 50 billion.
Apparently, he was running a giant Ponzi scheme and managed to keep it afloat for decades. The recent credit crisis and market turmoil caused investors to demand their money, which he unfortunately didn't have.
I always wonder why people don't understand that things that seem too good to be true are.
Speak of too good to be true... I went to work at noon today. Shortly after clocking in, I was summoned to the electrical aisle to help a customer. The customer looked like anyone of a hundred slightly down on their luck guys who come into the store. He wanted a doorbell, which was a fairly easy request to satisfy.
Then he starting telling me this convoluted story about how his mobile home had been struck by a speeding car, driven by someone fleeing the cops. He added that he lives two mobiles away from his elderly mother. He also told me that until he got a really good deal on a fixer-upper mobile home, he lived with her.
After listening to 15 minutes of his struggles with the insurance company, his struggles with the cable company and his general theories on the unfairness of life, his attention turned to me.
We had a conversation that went something like this;
Him: Are you really happy working in this hardware store?
Me: Yep.
Him: What would you REALLY like to do?
Me: I'm retired and I always wanted to work here after I retired. I like this job a lot, so I guess I would really like to be doing this.
Him: But everyone needs a plan B. (My bullshit detector kicked on)
Me: There are tons of things I could do, but I'm basically too lazy to do anything but this. Besides, I don't have much ambition.
Him: Would you like to make royalties for life?
Me: Huh?
Him: I have a plan B, if you are interested.
(The bullshit alarm is now clanging so loud I can barely hear myself think.)
Me: Nope, I'm too lazy for all that.
Him: Can I show you a plan to make money for life?
Me: Nope.
Him: Can I give you my card?
Me: Sure.
The card is for some bullshit multilevel marketing scheme for water softeners or something. I pretend I'm being called over the radio and beat feet.
I guarantee you that this jackaloon is up to his ass in water softeners and is desperate to find five new suckers quick.
Here's a tip for better living. When someone tells you how to get rich, they probably ought not to be living two mobiles away from mom, in a twenty year-old trailer with a Nova sticking out of one end. Just saying.
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
First we were introduced to soon-to-be-ex-Governor Blago. Do yourself a favor and read through the 76 page complaint filed against him. Selling Obama's Senate seat was just the tip of the iceberg. This joker and his main bagman, Tony Resko, shook down everyone who tried to do business with the state of Illinois.
Blago demanded donations to Friends of Blago, an organization apparently set up to launder his ill-gotten gain, or donations to his campaign. $50,000 was his favorite number.
The scope of the complaint is amazing and the smart people are betting that the we haven't heard the half of it.
Yesterday, I learned about a guy named Bernard Madoff. Lots of people will be having a really, really bad rest of their lives because Mr. Madoff, a seeming upstanding financier and money manager swindled his investors out of about 50 billion.
Apparently, he was running a giant Ponzi scheme and managed to keep it afloat for decades. The recent credit crisis and market turmoil caused investors to demand their money, which he unfortunately didn't have.
I always wonder why people don't understand that things that seem too good to be true are.
Speak of too good to be true... I went to work at noon today. Shortly after clocking in, I was summoned to the electrical aisle to help a customer. The customer looked like anyone of a hundred slightly down on their luck guys who come into the store. He wanted a doorbell, which was a fairly easy request to satisfy.
Then he starting telling me this convoluted story about how his mobile home had been struck by a speeding car, driven by someone fleeing the cops. He added that he lives two mobiles away from his elderly mother. He also told me that until he got a really good deal on a fixer-upper mobile home, he lived with her.
After listening to 15 minutes of his struggles with the insurance company, his struggles with the cable company and his general theories on the unfairness of life, his attention turned to me.
We had a conversation that went something like this;
Him: Are you really happy working in this hardware store?
Me: Yep.
Him: What would you REALLY like to do?
Me: I'm retired and I always wanted to work here after I retired. I like this job a lot, so I guess I would really like to be doing this.
Him: But everyone needs a plan B. (My bullshit detector kicked on)
Me: There are tons of things I could do, but I'm basically too lazy to do anything but this. Besides, I don't have much ambition.
Him: Would you like to make royalties for life?
Me: Huh?
Him: I have a plan B, if you are interested.
(The bullshit alarm is now clanging so loud I can barely hear myself think.)
Me: Nope, I'm too lazy for all that.
Him: Can I show you a plan to make money for life?
Me: Nope.
Him: Can I give you my card?
Me: Sure.
The card is for some bullshit multilevel marketing scheme for water softeners or something. I pretend I'm being called over the radio and beat feet.
I guarantee you that this jackaloon is up to his ass in water softeners and is desperate to find five new suckers quick.
Here's a tip for better living. When someone tells you how to get rich, they probably ought not to be living two mobiles away from mom, in a twenty year-old trailer with a Nova sticking out of one end. Just saying.
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
Dec 11, 2008
"I'm not worried about that, I have my ass covered with paper." -- Carl Something or Another, a boss in the 70's.
Blogger Bitchlet asked yesterday about how we manage our time. My time management technique is called, "No time like the present".
My attitude is, do what can be done quickly, so that I have time to work on the things that are more complex That leaves one less thing to worry about. It seems to me that most things just take a minute or two and getting them out of the way, makes life less complicated down the road.
Tom Peters, management guru, once pointed out that doing things quickly gets you ahead of the pack and still leaves time to fix it if you screw up, since the losers are still planning what to do.
I spent thirty-eight years in corporate America, mostly stuck in a cubicle, a lackey for the man.
These years staring at the cubicle walls and perfecting the 'nap sitting up', gave me many opportunities to observe the time management techniques of my co-hostages and to contrast them with my own.
It seems to me that many of the "busy" people are only busy because their system is so screwed up or they mistake process for productivity. When it comes to time management, most people have their head up their arse.
For many years I sat near a guy who was a serial doer and the worst time manager I've ever seen. His poor time management left him overwhelmed by pissed off customers and constantly barraged by things left undone. Most bosses are too lazy or too stupid to deal with guys like this, so for years he has 'gotten to it, when he gets to it' and the boss just went along.
This fellow was not able to prioritize his work in any way; things happened in the order they came to him. Nothing was more important than anything else. Chronology was all that mattered.
To make the problem worse, he never actually answered his phone. Every call went to voice mail and messages were only retrieved at specific intervals. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he scheduled his time to return calls.
Each voice message was logged in a spiral notebook, in the order that it was received. Calls were returned in that order, regardless of their urgency. A call at nine telling him his house was on fire, would be answered only after the call asking for his fax number which came in at at eight fifty-nine. I kid, but not too much.
Unfortunately, one of the big drawbacks to this system is, that when returning calls, he often got someone else's voice mail and the cycle would begin anew.
Our work involved receiving lots and lots of correspondence from governments and construction contractors. Because this fellow was a control freak, he had all this correspondence routed to him, some of which he kept and some of which he sent on to guys like me.
Every piece of mail he touched was logged into his book and noted, always in the bottom right hand corner and in always in red pencil, with the date he passed it along. It was important to him that, should anyone wonder about a specific piece of mail, he could consult the giant book and tell when he forwarded it along. No one ever asked as nearly as I know.
In keeping with his system, he was unable to just toss out the junk mail. Everything was logged and processed. I got great satisfaction from the times when he came into my cubicle to pass along something. I loved it when I could just glance at it and toss it into the trash. If he was bothered he never let on.
When he gave work to his assistant or asked me to help with something, it was always accompanied by a cover sheet explaining what to do and the note, "Return to John Doe", as though I might forget who gave it to me. The form provided tons of information that was unnecessary or self-evident, but since he had a spot for information on his form, he felt it must be filled out completely. He kept a copy of the correspondence and cover letter in a binder.
John was the most unproductive busy person I've ever met. And the sad part was that he thought he was invaluable.
Sad, but common.
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
Blogger Bitchlet asked yesterday about how we manage our time. My time management technique is called, "No time like the present".
My attitude is, do what can be done quickly, so that I have time to work on the things that are more complex That leaves one less thing to worry about. It seems to me that most things just take a minute or two and getting them out of the way, makes life less complicated down the road.
Tom Peters, management guru, once pointed out that doing things quickly gets you ahead of the pack and still leaves time to fix it if you screw up, since the losers are still planning what to do.
I spent thirty-eight years in corporate America, mostly stuck in a cubicle, a lackey for the man.
These years staring at the cubicle walls and perfecting the 'nap sitting up', gave me many opportunities to observe the time management techniques of my co-hostages and to contrast them with my own.
It seems to me that many of the "busy" people are only busy because their system is so screwed up or they mistake process for productivity. When it comes to time management, most people have their head up their arse.
For many years I sat near a guy who was a serial doer and the worst time manager I've ever seen. His poor time management left him overwhelmed by pissed off customers and constantly barraged by things left undone. Most bosses are too lazy or too stupid to deal with guys like this, so for years he has 'gotten to it, when he gets to it' and the boss just went along.
This fellow was not able to prioritize his work in any way; things happened in the order they came to him. Nothing was more important than anything else. Chronology was all that mattered.
To make the problem worse, he never actually answered his phone. Every call went to voice mail and messages were only retrieved at specific intervals. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he scheduled his time to return calls.
Each voice message was logged in a spiral notebook, in the order that it was received. Calls were returned in that order, regardless of their urgency. A call at nine telling him his house was on fire, would be answered only after the call asking for his fax number which came in at at eight fifty-nine. I kid, but not too much.
Unfortunately, one of the big drawbacks to this system is, that when returning calls, he often got someone else's voice mail and the cycle would begin anew.
Our work involved receiving lots and lots of correspondence from governments and construction contractors. Because this fellow was a control freak, he had all this correspondence routed to him, some of which he kept and some of which he sent on to guys like me.
Every piece of mail he touched was logged into his book and noted, always in the bottom right hand corner and in always in red pencil, with the date he passed it along. It was important to him that, should anyone wonder about a specific piece of mail, he could consult the giant book and tell when he forwarded it along. No one ever asked as nearly as I know.
In keeping with his system, he was unable to just toss out the junk mail. Everything was logged and processed. I got great satisfaction from the times when he came into my cubicle to pass along something. I loved it when I could just glance at it and toss it into the trash. If he was bothered he never let on.
When he gave work to his assistant or asked me to help with something, it was always accompanied by a cover sheet explaining what to do and the note, "Return to John Doe", as though I might forget who gave it to me. The form provided tons of information that was unnecessary or self-evident, but since he had a spot for information on his form, he felt it must be filled out completely. He kept a copy of the correspondence and cover letter in a binder.
John was the most unproductive busy person I've ever met. And the sad part was that he thought he was invaluable.
Sad, but common.
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
Dec 10, 2008
He Will Make It Up On Volume
This is a type of desert lavender. Drought tolerant, colorful, aromatic and attractive to bees. What more could you ask?
Talk about your bad business plans. It is amazing to me that the criminal who governs Illinois thought selling the Senate appointment he wields, was a good idea or even something that he could pull off. What an arrogant disgrace to public service.
Let's hope that the President-to-be was clear of this mess.
Speaking of bad business plans, I noticed a young guy in the store yesterday morning. He was in and out a couple of times, before he happened upon me. It turned out that he was installing a sound system in a car for someone and decided to do it in our parking lot so that he would be close to supplies.
When I encountered him, he was in need of some tubing to protect the wiring under the hood. He mulled over the two dollar cost, noting to me that he was only making $50 on the deal so he had to be careful of his costs.
At noon he was back in looking for a tool to open a locked car. He locked the keys in the ignition and couldn't get in. We couldn't help. Ultimately, he called a locksmith who charged him $50 to open the door.
Just before closing he was back. It seems that while the car was locked up, the lights were on and the battery died. He needed jumper cables to jump start the car. Our jumper cables sell for $12.95 and since he was already about $65 into this $50 dollar job, he didn't want to pay for any.
Luckily, I had to jump start one of our kid's cars the other day and my cables were in the Junkster. He found a passerby willing to provide a jump start.
At six in the evening he finally drove off, on his way to deliver the car to its owner. I saw him at ten in the morning, so I know he worked on that car for at least eight hours, losing about $15 or $20 on the job. Not the way it was supposed to work out.
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
Dec 8, 2008
I went to buy gas for the Sneed Family Junkster today and it was $1.559 per gallon. I filled up for $17.84. Amazing.
The conspiracy nuts who thought George W. was keeping oil prices high to enrich his oil pals, must be scratching their heads. You would think that in the last month of his term, he would really stick it to us.
Of course, conspiracies are very rare in real life.
I heard a band of knuckleheads at bowling talking about all the unregistered firearms that they have stashed since Obama was elected. Everyone knows that the first thing on the Obama agenda is to go door-to-door collecting the arsenals of average Americans.
A fellow in the store told me that his cousin had a friend who bought a Chevy off the lot and quickly discovered that it got 100 mpg. He was as pleased as punch until some "official looking" guys showed up with a new car for him and took the old one away. It had the magic carburetor that Detroit has kept off the market all these year. Never mind that a magic carburetor would make GM, Ford or Chrysler rich beyond their wildest dreams, they had their reasons.
Speaking of something that isn't a conspiracy, well it was but it's been exposed, is the sweetheart deal the AARP has with its official insurance company, The Hartford.
AARP has been touting the money we geezers can save by switching to The Hartford. You may recall my falling out with the bastards at The Hartford.
It seems that AARP has taken hundreds of millions of dollars from The Hartford yearly for their endorsement. Those hundreds of millions were passed along to the loyal AARP members, like me in the form of higher premiums. It also seems that The Hartford allowed AARP to intercept policy premiums and hold them for weeks before sending them along to The Hartford. This allowed the skunks at AARP to use the funds to generate interest revenue for their lobbying efforts.
All of this cash allows AARP to stick up the government through their extensive lobbying efforts, as well as generally bothering the public and stirring up legions of elderly cranks.
Everyone knows that Merle Wayne Sneed would never join an organization unless he stood to benefit financially and AARP is no different. The last thing I want to do is align myself with a bunch of disagreeable people like me. Misery does not love company, despite what you may have heard. So, sans insurance savings, I have no use for AARP. I quit.
When we were unceremoniously booted from The Hartford, we discovered what many others are finding out. Their insurance is way too costly and there are tons of other companies willing to insure you for less, since they apparently don't pay bribes.
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
The conspiracy nuts who thought George W. was keeping oil prices high to enrich his oil pals, must be scratching their heads. You would think that in the last month of his term, he would really stick it to us.
Of course, conspiracies are very rare in real life.
I heard a band of knuckleheads at bowling talking about all the unregistered firearms that they have stashed since Obama was elected. Everyone knows that the first thing on the Obama agenda is to go door-to-door collecting the arsenals of average Americans.
A fellow in the store told me that his cousin had a friend who bought a Chevy off the lot and quickly discovered that it got 100 mpg. He was as pleased as punch until some "official looking" guys showed up with a new car for him and took the old one away. It had the magic carburetor that Detroit has kept off the market all these year. Never mind that a magic carburetor would make GM, Ford or Chrysler rich beyond their wildest dreams, they had their reasons.
Speaking of something that isn't a conspiracy, well it was but it's been exposed, is the sweetheart deal the AARP has with its official insurance company, The Hartford.
AARP has been touting the money we geezers can save by switching to The Hartford. You may recall my falling out with the bastards at The Hartford.
It seems that AARP has taken hundreds of millions of dollars from The Hartford yearly for their endorsement. Those hundreds of millions were passed along to the loyal AARP members, like me in the form of higher premiums. It also seems that The Hartford allowed AARP to intercept policy premiums and hold them for weeks before sending them along to The Hartford. This allowed the skunks at AARP to use the funds to generate interest revenue for their lobbying efforts.
All of this cash allows AARP to stick up the government through their extensive lobbying efforts, as well as generally bothering the public and stirring up legions of elderly cranks.
Everyone knows that Merle Wayne Sneed would never join an organization unless he stood to benefit financially and AARP is no different. The last thing I want to do is align myself with a bunch of disagreeable people like me. Misery does not love company, despite what you may have heard. So, sans insurance savings, I have no use for AARP. I quit.
When we were unceremoniously booted from The Hartford, we discovered what many others are finding out. Their insurance is way too costly and there are tons of other companies willing to insure you for less, since they apparently don't pay bribes.
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
Dec 7, 2008
Today was holiday decorating day at the Sneed place. I was no help whatever, but I did try to stay out of the way.
Mrs. Sneed had a couple of helpers.
This one was not that helpful, but made up for it by being terribly cute.
We were watching football this morning. Fox was showing some 'feel good' moment from the Minnesota viking locker room. If you click on the picture, you might notice a naked player on the left. He nonchalantly wrapped himself in a towel while the world looked on. It made Janet Jackson's nipple seem mild. The player is Visanthe "You can call me Johnny" Shiancoe.
Coach Brad Childers, the bald man whose head is right above the football in the photo appears mesmerized.
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
Mrs. Sneed had a couple of helpers.
This one was not that helpful, but made up for it by being terribly cute.We were watching football this morning. Fox was showing some 'feel good' moment from the Minnesota viking locker room. If you click on the picture, you might notice a naked player on the left. He nonchalantly wrapped himself in a towel while the world looked on. It made Janet Jackson's nipple seem mild. The player is Visanthe "You can call me Johnny" Shiancoe.
Coach Brad Childers, the bald man whose head is right above the football in the photo appears mesmerized.
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
Dec 6, 2008
My blog friend Nan Patience asks the following.
what do you MEAN you wouldn't kill a rat?
Uh, I wouldn't kill at rat?
Then of course I don't live where huge rats lurk around waiting to scare the crap out of you, possibly by gnawing on a body part or something. If that was my situation, I might rationalize self-defense.
Not to claim some high moral ground or something here, because anyone who knows me, knows I am a mess, but what I try to do is to live and let live with respect to killing things. And before you ask, I do eat the product of other people's killing.
I never said I am consistent.
My hands are not completely clean because we do employ Larry the Bug Man, who doesn't squash the little critters, but does spray junk that renders them just as dead...eventually.
In my own defense, had Mrs. Sneed not said, "I asked you to get a bug man", about ten times, we still wouldn't have Larry.
This is a post from earlier about my own rodent issues.
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
what do you MEAN you wouldn't kill a rat?
Uh, I wouldn't kill at rat?
Then of course I don't live where huge rats lurk around waiting to scare the crap out of you, possibly by gnawing on a body part or something. If that was my situation, I might rationalize self-defense.
Not to claim some high moral ground or something here, because anyone who knows me, knows I am a mess, but what I try to do is to live and let live with respect to killing things. And before you ask, I do eat the product of other people's killing.
I never said I am consistent.
My hands are not completely clean because we do employ Larry the Bug Man, who doesn't squash the little critters, but does spray junk that renders them just as dead...eventually.
In my own defense, had Mrs. Sneed not said, "I asked you to get a bug man", about ten times, we still wouldn't have Larry.
This is a post from earlier about my own rodent issues.
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
Dec 5, 2008
I'm Pulling For The Rats
This is the Woodstream M201 Victor Rat Trap, the mother of all rat killers. If this baby snaps on you (assuming you are a rat), all hope is lost.
This trap is not some puny mousie trap, it is a big mother. It can break a finger if you aren't careful. It retails for three bucks in our store and can be had on the internet for about two.
To me three bucks is small change if you need to kill you some rats. I personally wouldn't, but I respect your right to make your own decisions with respect to vermin eradication.
Sometimes our customers take advantage of our helpful nature, either because they are clueless, or feel entitled. Sometimes a guy is just an old pain-in-the-ass, with too much time on his hands and obivious to the fact that some people are actually working. Case in point.
This morning, bright and early, I was talking to the boss and one of my coworkers, when an old guy approached us carrying what must have been the original prototype for the Woodstream M201 Victor Rat Trap. It was old and worn out. Its wood was cracking and its metal parts rusty. Clearly it was well past its useful life.
The guy asked me, and I am not making this up, if I could fix the petal which holds down the snap when the trap is armed? He claimed that he could fix but he can't see that well and doesn't want to lose a finger.
I assumed that he was joking with me, so I went and fetched him a new Woodstream M201 Victor Rat Trap. No dice, he really wanted it fixed. I looked around to find that my coworkers had abandoned me. The boss later confided that they both saw him coming and beat feet because they know how he is, which you will recall is a, an old pain-in-the-ass with too much time on his hands and no respect for other people's time.
I tried to tell the guy that the trap was worn out, but he insisted that it still had a lot of life in it, (or death if you are a rat). I explained to him that a new one would only set him back three bucks.
He looked at me like I said the stupidest thing he has heard in a while and he asked me why he should spend three bucks to replace a perfectly good Woodstream M201 Victor Rat Trap? My inclination was to tell him to beat it, but that's not how we roll down in the hardware store. Unfortunately.
Instead, I bent and twisted the little petal, this way and that until it held the snap in the armed position. With a final lecture about the virtues of not buying needless new stuff, off he went to do battle with the rodents. I'm betting the next time I see him he will have maimed his fingers. At least I can hope so.
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
OJ
I was just watching the OJ Simpson sentencing and I am glad that he got 7 1/2 minimum in the slammer.
I have to admit that, looking at the sad shell of a person, made me feel sad. I know that the facts of his murder trial were legally irrelevant to this case, but he finally got some of what he deserved and he knows it.
The thing about arrogant serial criminals is that they may win a few skirmishes, but they almost always lose the war. They just can't change who they are.
UPDATE: Authorities are now saying it's a minimum of nine years for the Juice. Even better.
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
I have to admit that, looking at the sad shell of a person, made me feel sad. I know that the facts of his murder trial were legally irrelevant to this case, but he finally got some of what he deserved and he knows it.
The thing about arrogant serial criminals is that they may win a few skirmishes, but they almost always lose the war. They just can't change who they are.
UPDATE: Authorities are now saying it's a minimum of nine years for the Juice. Even better.
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
Dec 4, 2008
Mrs. Sneed likes to have an amaryllis at Christmas time. This one bloomed way ahead of schedule, but it is a beauty.
As I have posted before, there is some difference of opinion around the hardware store as to whether I am an innovator or an imbecile. Imbecile is leading in the early voting.
One thing I struggle with is how much I'm allowed to help people with their repair problems, beyond selling them the appropriate product. I've talked to my boss about it and her advice is to "not give away the store".
We repair certain things as a matter of business. Windows and screens for instance. We also do things like repair broken handles on yard tools, install new parts like saw blades, cut furnace filters to order.
People will sometimes bring in other things that they hope to have fixed. We get a lot of lamps. There is not universal agreement on whether we should work on electric devices, because of liability issues. The boss doesn't seem to mind as long as we charge a nominal fee for our time.
I try my best to help people out and it is not uncommon for the boss to catch me in the act of fixing something and ask how much I am charging for a repair. Zero is a bad answer, I've come to find out.
Most people don't mind paying something, but many of the customers are elderly and on a fixed income, so I let them slide. On the sly, of course.
Yesterday an elderly, rather frail-looking woman came in and asked for an electric plug. We got to discussing her plug-related needs and looking at her options. I asked how big the cord was, that she was trying to put a plug on and she struggled to explain it. Then, she excused herself to go get it from the car.
A minute later she was back with a severed cord from what turned out to be a television set. Somehow, the cord to her television had been cut off and she hoped to put a new plug on what was left. She mentioned that the set happened to be in the car if I wanted to see it.
Sure enough it was sitting on the back seat. A 27-inch Toshiba. In the passenger seat sat her equally elderly husband, even more frail than she. The set only had about 4 inches of cord left. The chances of this old gal getting a new plug installed without electrocuting herself or burning the house down seemed slim to me.
So, I lugged the set into the store and plunked it on the work table, just as the boss walked by. All she said was, "I'm not even going to ask".
I installed a new plug, $3.99 and sold her an extension cord, $6.99, so that it could actually be plugged in, and tested it out. It worked great. I lugged the set out to her car and sent her on her way.
To my way of thinking, it didn't cost the store anything for me to fix the TV cord because I was already there getting paid anyway. We did forgo the $10 I could have charged her for labor, but I'm guessing she will be back and will tell a half dozen others about her experience.
That's my thinking anyway.
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
Dec 3, 2008
With respect to my flagging memory, my friend Mr. Kurt, offered the following.
Here's the test: if you can't remember where your glasses are, that's just getting old. If you forget that you wear glasses, that's losing it.
Based on that criteria, all hope is not lost. But it is hanging on by its fingertips. You know, when the hero has been pushed off the ledge by the villain and you can see his fingers losing their grip on the ledge? That's me.
Let me tell you about my glasses situation.
Since I was about thirteen I have worn glasses. That is, except for about five years when, after I lost them, my old man refused to spring for new ones. The cost of beer being what it was and all.
I've actually know since I was about eight that I was somewhat near-sighted, but for several years my folks told me I was mistaken.
Anyway, I got my glasses and about three or four months later I lost them, as kids will do. That was that, corrective lens-wise. I believe I was told I could get new glasses when I had enough money to buy myself a new pair.
So, lo these many years, about thirty-five or so, I have worn glasses to correct my near-sightedness. Mrs. Sneed will confirm that it has been nearly four decades of, "I can't find my glasses." She always gets a kick out of me saying that. No she really does.
A couple of years ago, during my periodic eye exam, the doctor, at least I assume she was a doctor, told me that my near-sightedness had improved. She said this sometimes happens in middle age. I got a milder prescription that I used to have.
The vision in my left eye is not great, but I can see very well out of the right. Working together, my vision is passable even without my glasses.
Of course the ravages of age had left me in need of reading glasses, so it was bifocals for me.
Anyway, a few months ago I got new glasses. About two weeks after getting them, I lost them. Not lost around the house, but really, really, ain't gonna ever find them, lost them. So, I dug out my old pair and soldiered on.
Then, while fixing the water line in the front yard recently, I may or may not have buried my prescription sunglasses in the giant hole I dug. Rather, filled technically, but you get the idea.
Then, to make matters worse, I lost my old pair of glasses about two or three days after that. I'm not ruling out foul play here, but no one will fess up to having swiped my specs. It could be a scheme to drive me mad (short trip).
So, that's it for me. I'm not wearing glasses anymore, except the cheapo reading glasses that I can buy over the counter. I will just live with my so-so vision. My driver's license doesn't renew until 2015 and I don't have a corrective lens restriction, so screw it, I'm going cold turkey. Glasses are for suckers.
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
Here's the test: if you can't remember where your glasses are, that's just getting old. If you forget that you wear glasses, that's losing it.
Based on that criteria, all hope is not lost. But it is hanging on by its fingertips. You know, when the hero has been pushed off the ledge by the villain and you can see his fingers losing their grip on the ledge? That's me.
Let me tell you about my glasses situation.
Since I was about thirteen I have worn glasses. That is, except for about five years when, after I lost them, my old man refused to spring for new ones. The cost of beer being what it was and all.
I've actually know since I was about eight that I was somewhat near-sighted, but for several years my folks told me I was mistaken.
Anyway, I got my glasses and about three or four months later I lost them, as kids will do. That was that, corrective lens-wise. I believe I was told I could get new glasses when I had enough money to buy myself a new pair.
So, lo these many years, about thirty-five or so, I have worn glasses to correct my near-sightedness. Mrs. Sneed will confirm that it has been nearly four decades of, "I can't find my glasses." She always gets a kick out of me saying that. No she really does.
A couple of years ago, during my periodic eye exam, the doctor, at least I assume she was a doctor, told me that my near-sightedness had improved. She said this sometimes happens in middle age. I got a milder prescription that I used to have.
The vision in my left eye is not great, but I can see very well out of the right. Working together, my vision is passable even without my glasses.
Of course the ravages of age had left me in need of reading glasses, so it was bifocals for me.
Anyway, a few months ago I got new glasses. About two weeks after getting them, I lost them. Not lost around the house, but really, really, ain't gonna ever find them, lost them. So, I dug out my old pair and soldiered on.
Then, while fixing the water line in the front yard recently, I may or may not have buried my prescription sunglasses in the giant hole I dug. Rather, filled technically, but you get the idea.
Then, to make matters worse, I lost my old pair of glasses about two or three days after that. I'm not ruling out foul play here, but no one will fess up to having swiped my specs. It could be a scheme to drive me mad (short trip).
So, that's it for me. I'm not wearing glasses anymore, except the cheapo reading glasses that I can buy over the counter. I will just live with my so-so vision. My driver's license doesn't renew until 2015 and I don't have a corrective lens restriction, so screw it, I'm going cold turkey. Glasses are for suckers.
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
Dec 2, 2008
I had a dermatology appointment yesterday, which I forgot about until this morning. I have been seeing this same doctor for over two years, once a month and this is the first appointment that I have forgotten. Not bad.
I called this morning and pleaded advancing years and failing memory. The person I spoke to said that I can come in next Monday and that she would try to reverse the charge for failure to show. I would like to get all pissy about being charged and all, but I have no excuse.
Last week I had to call the dentist and change my appointment at the last minute because I forgot that one too. Luckily, my dentist is short on patients and they were glad to have me come in whenever. They run kind of a loose operation anyway. As nearly as I can figure no one works more than four days a week in the office and the dentist works even less than that.
At least I assume he's a dentist.
My paternal grandmother lost touch with planet Earth in her 50s, so all this forgetting makes a guy wonder if he's not losing it.
On the other hand, if you can still worry about losing it, you probably aren't really losing it. Right?
You may recall that I was in line to get a bonus if our sales met expectation for the Thanksgiving weekend. Well, they didn't, so that bonus is out the window. Bonus is too generous a word. It was more of a bonette.
I am getting, drum roll please, a little extra payment of $43 because of good sales in November overall. Sweet.
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
I called this morning and pleaded advancing years and failing memory. The person I spoke to said that I can come in next Monday and that she would try to reverse the charge for failure to show. I would like to get all pissy about being charged and all, but I have no excuse.
Last week I had to call the dentist and change my appointment at the last minute because I forgot that one too. Luckily, my dentist is short on patients and they were glad to have me come in whenever. They run kind of a loose operation anyway. As nearly as I can figure no one works more than four days a week in the office and the dentist works even less than that.
At least I assume he's a dentist.
My paternal grandmother lost touch with planet Earth in her 50s, so all this forgetting makes a guy wonder if he's not losing it.
On the other hand, if you can still worry about losing it, you probably aren't really losing it. Right?
You may recall that I was in line to get a bonus if our sales met expectation for the Thanksgiving weekend. Well, they didn't, so that bonus is out the window. Bonus is too generous a word. It was more of a bonette.
I am getting, drum roll please, a little extra payment of $43 because of good sales in November overall. Sweet.
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
Dec 1, 2008
The following is not directed at loyal Merle Wayne Sneed readers, who are too smart to fall for the lure of easy credit.
Perhaps it is the financial meltdown or maybe the job losses, but it seems to me that I'm hearing more and more of the debt counseling companies advertising on the radio. You know, the ones who know the "secrets that the credit card companies don't want you to know about?"
First thing is, that if you are looking to get out of paying your credit card bills, you are stealing from people who lent you money. Since credit card companies are mostly predatory snakes, they have some of it coming, but you still owe them money and you should pay if you can, not blow them off.
Secondly, there are no "secret programs".
Think about this. If you are current on your credit cards, what incentive would the companies have to give you any kind of break? None.
What these companies do is "counsel" you to stop paying your bills. Once the credit card company thinks you aren't going to pay them, they are more flexible in their terms. But make no mistake, this will ruin your credit and you will pay these guys a hefty fee for their service.
Pretty much the only company that is on the up and up is Consumer Credit Counseling Services. They will structure a plan that lets you get some relief from rates and fees, while structuring a plan to let you repay what you owe.
Should there be a nuclear war, all that will survive are cockroaches and hucksters. My sympathies to the cockroaches.
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
Perhaps it is the financial meltdown or maybe the job losses, but it seems to me that I'm hearing more and more of the debt counseling companies advertising on the radio. You know, the ones who know the "secrets that the credit card companies don't want you to know about?"
First thing is, that if you are looking to get out of paying your credit card bills, you are stealing from people who lent you money. Since credit card companies are mostly predatory snakes, they have some of it coming, but you still owe them money and you should pay if you can, not blow them off.
Secondly, there are no "secret programs".
Think about this. If you are current on your credit cards, what incentive would the companies have to give you any kind of break? None.
What these companies do is "counsel" you to stop paying your bills. Once the credit card company thinks you aren't going to pay them, they are more flexible in their terms. But make no mistake, this will ruin your credit and you will pay these guys a hefty fee for their service.
Pretty much the only company that is on the up and up is Consumer Credit Counseling Services. They will structure a plan that lets you get some relief from rates and fees, while structuring a plan to let you repay what you owe.
Should there be a nuclear war, all that will survive are cockroaches and hucksters. My sympathies to the cockroaches.
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
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