You never know what people will come into the hardware store looking for. Our store is in a low-income area that is still headed downward, so we see our share of characters. Why would two very drunk homeless guys be looking at expensive plumbing parts? A young artist set up her exhibit, only to discover that her creations needed to hang four inches lower from the ceiling of the exhibit space. She was frantic for a solution and thought maybe we would have something to help. Some fishing line and a small handsaw fixed the problem. She thinks I'm the best, in case you wondered. A well-heeled older man driving a BMW sedan, wanted a device to scare away some bats that were spoiling his enjoyment of his pool with their guano. "They are pooping by my pool." We had one in stock. A cranky old guy needed a key, but also wanted to give me a lecture on why the a storage shed that we have on display isn't worth what the "Rubbermaid bastards" are charging. He delivered his tirade at the top of his lungs and the assistant manager had to ask him to quiet down. It's a conspiracy with the Chinese, in case you wonder. Lots of people came in looking for dust masks. Our proximity to Mexico has given a lot of people a cause for concern over the swine flu. One guy was embarrassed to tell me that he feared the flu, but as he cleaned out what we had left, he said he was going to be doing a lot of sanding. No one does that much sanding. And my favorite. A down-on-her-luck woman wanted super glue and asked me which glue would be suitable for gluing her bridgework back in? This stuck me as funny, but Mrs. Sneed reminded me that it isn't. I Googled superglue and teeth and got 95,000 hits, so apparently, this isn't an uncommon question. 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 local politics are a mess everywhere these days, but here in Hooterville, we have taken dysfunction to a new level. Our city operates on a strong city manager, weak mayor and council system. Our mayors have tended to be nice grandfatherly types and our council members well-meaning dunces. That reminds me of a joke. In the future, commercial jets will be able to take off, fly to their destination and land without a human flight crew. However, since studies have shown that people won't fly on a plane without a human pilot, these futuristic jets will have a crew consisting of a pilot and a dog. The pilot will offer reassurance to the passengers and the dog will bite the pilot if he touches the controls. That's how it works in Hooterville. We want to see a grandfatherly guy as mayor, we just don't want him to touch anything. Our city council members are elected to serve specific wards in the city, but they are elected, not by the voters in their wards, but citywide. This results in a council of knuckleheads, all representing the same group of voters. That is a nice way of saying that they are all squishy feel-good types. We are long on good intentions and short on actual plans. Which brings me to today. A couple of weeks ago, the council voted to fire the city manager because they didn't like his ideas for dealing with the giant hole in the city finances. They elevated his assistant to the top job, and promptly declared him the smartest, bestest city manager ever. The new old guy came up with a surefire budget balancing scheme involving raising taxes without the sheeple knowing that their taxes are being raised. They decided to raise the city tax on utilities and in a burst of pure genius, decided to make a new 2% tax on landlords who own rentals. If you rent out an apartment for $500 per month, you owe the city $10 each month. It is important to the story to note that something like 45% of Hootervillians rent. Apparently, they don't understand that if you demand a tax on rents, the landlord will pass it on to the renter. Landlords and renters already know this. So, this evening, they had a public hearing on the matter before the mayor and council. In typical Hooterville fashion the city planning folks set up for 500 attendees. Within our city limits there is something like 200,000 folks living in rental housing, so they we betting that only 1 in 400 renters would show up to complain. I think when the first chartered bus of pissed off constituents showed up, they realized that they were in trouble. Each speaker before the council was limited to three minutes and it went on so long that the paper went to press while they were still speaking. No actual vote was taken by the council on any of the tax hikes, they reserved that for June when they hope that no one is paying attention. I'm predicting that they will tell the city manager that the rent tax is totally outrageous and then will congratulate themselves for taking a principled stand for the people. 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

Hibiscus does fairly well here, except that they have to be protected in the winter. This plant is a bit bedraggled. It seems to me that long before our brains became capable of philosophy, we understood that certain behaviors advance us as a species. As our thinking became even more sophisticated, we learned to codify those things for our mutual benefit. No point in having everyone killing everyone with impunity. Codification also begets enforcement and enforcement begets even more enforcement. Among humanity, there is an insatiable appetite to make the other guy do what he is supposed to do. This urge among us to enforce compliance is aided and abetted by a bunch of smart people figuring out how to more carefully scrutinize our obedience to the rules. I'm thinking of speed-enforcement cameras. They are all the rage these days here in Arizona. However, once you count the cops and the state officials, the list of people who like the cameras is pretty short. Many people assume that cameras are only a problem for those who cannot obey the law. Don't speed and it is no sweat. Besides, speed kills, doesn't it? But that is flawed thinking. Actually, there is very little evidence that a flow of traffic at 75 is more dangerous than a flow at 55. A couple of yahoos doing 55 while the flow speeds past them is another matter. The practical incentive for government to monitor speed with cameras is that it brings in way more money than human policing can. Safety is the honey they feed us while picking our pockets. If we accept government monitoring on that basis, there is a host of logical extensions that we should also accept. Perhaps onboard computers to monitor speed or blood alcohol levels would be reasonable. After all, drinking and driving kills, too. Anyway, the rebellious souls of Arizona have taken to putting Post-It notes over camera's lens or shooting them with Silly String. One less inventive guy used a pick ax to bash one to pieces. But as the saying goes, "It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt". Last week a crazy man in Phoenix pulled his car along side a mobile camera van operated by a vendor for the police and shot the operator to death. That didn't advance the debate one bit and made us camera opponents look like homicidal maniacs. This entire camera brouhaha could have been avoided if our former Governor, Janet Napolitano, hadn't thought it such a cleaver idea. Luckily, she is off making a fool of herself as Secretary of Homeland Security. So the next time she issues a memo warning that returning veterans might be terrorists or that the 9/11 hijackers came in through Canada, remember who gave her to the greater good. Anyway, here in the dusty corner of the country, the camera debate rages on in the papers and in the halls of our legislature. As for me, I don't speed or drive the freeways, so I'm unlikely to get caught on film. But I still hate the whole idea of the government watching me. And charging for 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

The kid is fascinated with me, what can I say? Miss Riley spent the afternoon with Mrs. Sneed yesterday, while her brother and parents were out having fun. ...The person in custody must, prior to interrogation, be clearly informed that he or she has the right to remain silent, and that anything the person says may be used against that person in court; the person must be clearly informed that he or she has the right to consult with an attorney and to have that attorney present during questioning, and that, if he or she is indigent, an attorney will be provided at no cost to represent him or her. From the US Supreme Court ruling in Miranda v. Arizona. or No accused may be deprived of his liberty as the result of any criminal prosecution, whether felony or misdemeanor, in which he was denied the assistance of counsel. US Supreme Court in ARGERSINGER v. HAMLIN, 407 U.S. 25 (1972) There was an article in the Hooterville Daily Dish, our local paper about the cost to the taxpayers of defending criminal defendants. The taxpayers picked up the tab for defending 93% of those charged with misdemeanor crimes in our county last year. Apparently, all defendants have to do is claim indigence and they get a public defender. No one checks, because in 99% of cases they would find that those who claim to be broke really are. Predictably, this has a lot of folks in our town in an uproar. Many people are not fully on board with the idea that defendants have the right to an attorney, whether they can pay for it or not. Nor have they admitted that those most likely to be charged, are those least likely to be able to pay for their own defense. Society pays for the police to arrest folks, lawyers to prosecute them, jailers to hold them for trial and judges and juries to try them. When it comes to paying to defend them, people get pissed. Go figure. 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

Is it a bad sign when you feel like screaming, "Shut the hell up, you moron", at your coworkers about 50 times a day? I like working in the hardware store, but I hate to listen to the voice in my ear all day long. They gave us all radios and some people thinks that means they have to talk on them nonstop. Mrs. Sneed and I went to see the simulcast of This American Life, that was broadcast in 430 movie theaters last night. It was a fund-raiser for the program and Chicago Public Radio, oddly enough broadcast from New York University. It was a fun evening. There is nothing as engaging as radio, even on the rare occasions when you see it done live. You may have seen TV version of This American Life on Showtime, but it doesn't compare to listening on the radio or on your iPod. Mrs. Sneed and I are huge fans of the program and of Ira Glass, the host. We were out until 9:45 p.m. on a school night. Just a couple of crazy kids. 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

This is the 1000th entry in the life of the Merle Wayne Sneed blog. A more ambitious guy than me might have made an effort to make 1000 memorable. Perhaps you are thinking, "1000?? That's about 990 too many." Perfectly reasonable thinking. As for me, I'm wondering how a guy with nothing to say, has managed to say it 1000 times? Through the long slog to 1000, I've met many wonderful people. You know who you are. I'm accustomed to smart people snubbing me, so I appreciate that you mostly haven't. I've especially enjoyed the occasional crazy commenter. I'm reminded of the person in Montana who thought that I had my facts wrong about this local story. She wrote. "AN FYI...this happened moths ago....and who ever wrote this is a liar! WOW...I cant believe I just wasted my time reading it!!!! Get your facts straight!" Or the time I got an email from the mayor of Gas City, Indiana, telling me that he enjoyed this story that I reported. A special thanks to Mr. Kurt of the Other People Exist blog. Kurt has pretended to read nearly all of my inane posts and leave comments on most of them. That is a level of fake interest that one rarely sees. Anyway, I'm tearing up, so on with the post. We've had a shooting on the south side of Hooterville, which is only slightly more newsworthy than reporting that we had a sunrise on the east side. It happens everyday. Someone shot someone at a car wash and stole a car. Or something. I don't mean to seem callous, but I can't keep the local mayhem straight, particularly when it doesn't involve me. A better citizen than me might get involved and try to bring about some change or something. But I'm kind of busy, laying low. I just heard the five o'clock news come on the television in the other room and before I could rush to turn it off, the talking head said, "We have breaking news, that you'll hear first on News13 about the car wash shooting on the south side. You will hear the recording of the 9-1-1 call by one of the victims." I turned off the TV. Who the heck listens to the frantic call of a victim of a terrible crime for entertainment? 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 am fascinated by how many sounds one bird can make. Longtime readers will recall that Merle Wayne Sneed is often critical and always distrustful of the motives of the agents of government. I'm not "tin foil hat" distrustful, but distrustful nonetheless. The basis for my distrust can be summed up by the proverb, "Give them an inch and they'll take a mile". It is in our nature. Yesterday the US Supreme Court ruled on a case called Arizona v. Gant. The justices said that the police do not have the right to search a car simply because they have arrested its owner. In this case, Mr. Gant was arrested after arriving at his home. He was out of the car and in custody, when the police decided to search the car. They found cocaine and he was charged with possession. At the original trial, one of the cops testified that he seached the car, "because he could". SCOTUS ruled that search illegal in its ruling for Gant. That seems reasonable to me. Did the arrest give them the right to search his home, his desk at work, his gym locker, without warrant? Give them the car and they will take the gym locker. It is in our nature. I read in the paper that the Illinois state police stopped a truck last week for speeding and even though they didn't cite the driver for the speeding violation, they brought in a drug-sniffing dog because they thought the driver was "acting nervous". The dog alerted the cops to the possible presence of drugs and the truck was searched on that basis. They didn't find drugs, but they found $2.7M hidden in a box. The cops took the money, pending an investigation. The suspects were allowed to go on their way. Does anyone else think "acting nervous" is kind of subjective? I think I might act nervous if the cops stopped me. Lastly, something from the buffoons running Hooterville. Hooterville is broke; We got more cash going out, than what is coming in. The best and brightest at City Hall are working overtime, cipherin' and figurin' ways to right this wrong, but always with our best interests in mind. This is what they have come up with. Follow closely, it is convoluted in the way that only government can achieve. The City runs our water service. The City owns the property needed to run our water system (buildings, wells, pipes, etc.). This City property is exempt from property taxes since the City cannot pay itself. It would sure be nice if the City could collect property tax on its own property because we really, really need the money. Therefore, they have come up with the idea to institute a tax on water service equal to what they would collect in property taxes, if their property was in private hands. They call in an in-lieu tax, as in a tax in lieu of property tax. I'm pretty sure this is an interim step on the road to an in-lieu tax on everything the City owns. 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

Our local paper ran a story yesterday about the river of poor Mexicans and poor Central Americans that continues to flow northward, despite our sagging economy. The truth is, that no matter how bad things are in the United States, they are far worse, south of our borders. What we call a recession or a depression is far better than what passes for the everyday in many places. Predictably, this unleashed a torrent of angry and mostly hateful comments in the comment section of the online version of the article. People are, for the most part, sick to death of illegal entrants and don't mind telling you. I'm not smart enough to do the math on the economic impact of illegals, but I do know some things that seem obvious. Illegals use social services, they pay taxes, their kids go to our schools, they buy stuff in our stores, they work hard, but some are bums, some are criminals, most are not. On balance, who knows what illegal immigration really costs the United States? To me, that is beside the point anyway. I posted a comment in the paper yesterday, trying to make the point that we are Americans by an accident of our birth. We could have been born poor and desperate, but we lucked out. We would all like to believe that our particular brand of specialness made us what we are today, but we had a head start. As Ann Richards famously said of George Bush, "He was born on third base and thinks he hit a triple". That's many of us. The reaction from my fellow commenters was swift and harsh. One fellow took me to task for suggesting that anything about his birth was accidental, his momma planned to have him and he was loved. Apparently missing my point altogether. Another guy suggested that I open my home to illegals, if I felt so much for them, again missing the point. I don't promote illegal immigration. I do understand that all people seek a better life and here is where a better life can be found. We have to separate the problem from the humanity. If the governments of our countries can find a solution to the issue of illegal immigration, that's great. Just don't expect that the poor and hopeless to wait for that solution. And don't hate them simply because they want what we have. Perhaps this video illustrates Americans fears. 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 and I have been married for 40 years today. We got married in 1969, in Las Vegas, accompanied by our mothers and Mrs. Sneed's best friend, Mona. We were such hillbillies, maybe still are. In most of the country in 1969 a boy under 21 could not marry without his parents signature. The bride only needed to be 18. I recall having to get an affidavit signed by my old man. I was just 19. I remember my dad signing the form and telling me that this wasn't how he imagined his son getting married. Dad had lots of imaginary scenarios. We drove all night, moms in tow and as I recall got married seven am, on a Saturday morning at the Las Vegas City Hall. No Elvis minister, no drive through, just your standard City Hall wedding. After a quick celebratory breakfast at a Denny's restaurant, we drove home. As Mrs. Sneed remarked yesterday, it was a miracle we didn't die in a fiery accident. But we didn't and here we are 40 years later. All my love Mrs. Sneed. 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 do not wish to shock the reader but, some people have no boundaries. More on that in a moment. Yesterday I was waiting on an elderly customer, a 93-year old woman. You would never peg her for 93, you might mistake her for a very spry 80-year old. Anyway, she reminded me that she is 93, like she does every time I see her. I'm kind of obliged to tell her that she doesn't look 93, so I did. She told me that her longevity and vitality are due to optimism and faith in God. If she's right, then I'm screwed. Oh, well. Okay, now back to guys with no boundaries. Two guys came in yesterday afternoon to buy some plumbing supplies. One guy was a big fellow wearing bib overalls, he did all the talking. Since readers have commented that they love my verbatim transcripts of conversations, here goes. Big Guy: Is it cheaper to buy 32 feet of quarter-inch copper tube or to buy a whole roll (50 feet)? Me: A whole roll. Big Guy: Okay, get me a roll and two ferrules (plumbing gizzmoes). Me: Anything else today? Big Guy: Yeah, what's the state of your eternal soul? (Blood rushed to my eyes and I couldn't see for a second.) Me: Couldn't tell you. Big Guy: You better repent and come to Jesus. Me: Anything else? Big Guy: All men are sinners and have fallen short of the glory of God. Me: Not me. Anything else? Big Guy: What? Think about it friend, Jesus is Lord. Me: Anything else for you today? Big Guy: Nope. I am not skilled enough to describe how angry people like this make 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

Here are 15 seconds in the life of Lacey the Wonder Dog. I read an article yesterday about consciousness and what makes humans consciousness unique. The author said that it boils down to the ability to reflect on your own consciousness. If you are mean to a dog, it might remember that the next time it sees you, but it will never plot ways to get even. That's reserved for people. I had an odd day at work yesterday. My normally friendly boss was very standoffish. She only spoke to me one time, which in a small store is hard. Being me, I assumed I had pissed her off somehow. She passed me on one of the aisles and handed me a small box of cup hooks. She said that she found it in the trash. I told her that it was lucky that she found it and she gruffly replied that we need to be more careful. Since I didn't throw it there, I'm not sure why I got the lecture. One of my coworkers said that she was in one of "her moods", something I have never observed before, and at my stage of life, something I am not interested in tolerating. After the boss was gone for the day, I asked her assistant manager about her mood and he said that he thought she was just feeling poorly. People. What can you do? 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

While I was feeding my flowers this morning, a Cactus Wren perched on the flag pole and chatted with a friend. You can hear the replies in the background. Please excuse the end of the video, I forgot to turn it off. "Consider the birds of the air, they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" (Matt. 6:26). Merle Wayne Sneed is not a follower of religion, but the Bible has a great deal of wisdom to offer. I don't buy the Father theology, but there is a lesson in not sweating the small stuff. I spend entirely too much time worrying about the things I cannot possibly control or even affect. Not so much as I once did, but still too much. One of my long held theories of living is that when you try to make something happen, the results are often not that good. I think we share a collective wisdom that guides us through life. Things are sort of self-regulating, unless we decide to force the issue This is a ground rose called Million Bells, I think. It is just beautiful. 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

A couple of guys patiently waiting their turn to score an Easter Egg. I saw a predictable headline in the paper today. Someone was lamenting the intrusion of the Easter Bunny into what should be a sacred day. I have two words for that line of thinking. Lighten up!! Among other things, Easter is a day when we indulge our kid's childhood fantasies, before we introduce them to our more grownup fantasies. After all only a child could believe that an invisible creature cares about them. Right? Anyway, we went to Daughter Sneed's house yesterday for a family brunch. Whatever the holiday, the Sneeds like to get together and eat. Some like to watch golf too, but not all, as it turns out. My two favorite girls. Mrs. Sneed is holding Miss Riley's pacifier in place because she has learned to pull it out, but is not so good at getting it back into her mouth. Is the hand you hold your pacifier in called your pacifist? 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

This is a screen grab from a live camera in downtown Hooterville, looking northeast. (click to enlarge) We're having unusual Spring storm today. Maybe it is more correct to just say "a storm", since any storm in Hooterville in April is unusual. Our usual weather on April 11th is 80 degrees, with a very low chance of precipitation. In fact, April is our third driest month, averaging just 1/3 of an inch of rain. It has rained off and on all day and the high was in the fifties. Kind of a nice change. In the hardware business, cool, wet Spring weather is not good. Spring is the time when people get their evaporative coolers ready for the brutal summer. So long as it remains cool, people will put off their cooler purchases and the bosses will be nervous. Here's a quick story from the files of people making foolish mistakes. A fellow that I know has run a maintenance business for sometime. He has done okay. He basically is in the business of contracting with other businesses to fix what breaks at their business. And he mixes in repair work for homeowners. Last fall this same guy came into the store and told me that he had hit a bonanza by doing fix up work on foreclosures. Many foreclosed-upon homeowners trash the house on the way out and the banks need people to repair them. He was very excited about his future prospects. This morning he came in and told me a different story, a tale of woe. His business is off by two-thirds from its peak and he is scrapping to get by. He counted too much on work from the banks, which has dried up. That would have been problem enough, but he went deeply into debt to buy a couple of work trucks, tools and new office furnishing to support his formerly growing business. Now he has a bunch of payments on equipment that he can neither use nor sell. That's a trap that many small business owners fall into. They build their business for the best case scenario, rather than the worst. For that matter, I guess most Americans fall into that trap in their personal lives. How many folks do you know that could make the payments so long as everything went right? Anyway, I feel for the guy. 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

One of the Bible thumpers at work put up a sign on the bulletin board that says, "See you in church on Easter--God." That God, such a kidder. I've spent the week tacking other signs in front of it. To no avail, though, it keeps popping up again. Isn't there a separation of church and hardware store? Maybe you had this experience, or worse yet, maybe you've been this guy. I hope neither is the case, but unless you've only recently dropped in from outer space, one or both will apply to most folks. I called a guy this morning to let him know that his special order was in and available for pick up. He told me that he would be in tomorrow to get it. Later we received a call at the store from a Mr. Duncan, asking who at our number called him? I took the call and identified myself. Mr. Duncan said the he had seen our number on his caller ID and wanted to know what we wanted. Setting aside the fact that he forget we spoke earlier, why do people call numbers they see on their caller ID? If someone calls your phone and doesn't leave a message, assume it was a wrong number. How hard is that? Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky

Several people commented about the medians that our city leaders have been neglecting. Weeding has become a hot topic around here because of the spread of Buffel Grass (pictured above). Buffel Grass is an invasive plant that is native to southern Africa. It was introduced into the desert Southwest and Texas in the 1940s by ranchers looking for cheap grazing crops. Buffel Grass is drought tolerant, flourishes in the heat, provides good grazing and can be harvested for hay. Unfortunately, it speads like crazy and has turned potions of the desert into plains. It promotes wildfire, which destroys the native cacti, especially the Saguaros. Our county government recently passed an ordinance making it an offense to have Buffel Grass on your property. The ordinance allows the County to cite a land owner and if the grass is not removed, the County can have it removed and bill the responsible party. This is all quite curious to we property owners, since in Arizona, only 13% of land is in private hands. The other 87% belongs to the federal, Indian, and state governments. It seems to all reasonable people that private land owners are not the majority of the problem. Speaking of unreasonable things, I caught Dateline on NBC for a few minutes the other night. Their lead story was about a woman who sent several thousand dollars to an internet site, that promised her a job. She lost her money and she got no job. The NBC guy said that this could happen to anyone. So, if you need a job, send me some cash and I will help you out. I swear. Plus, maybe you've heard ads for these outfits that will, (a) help you get out of credit card debt, (b) help you rework your mortgage, or (c) help you settle up with the IRS. All fakes, of course. I heard a commercial for one of these outfits today. The narrator said, "When we found out that the credit card companies use tricks to keep you in debt, we decided to offer everyone a free debt analysis." Here's the question. Would you use a company that recently found out that the credit card companies use trickery? Is the average American so dumb that this stuff works? One last thing. Maybe I am totally out of the loop on how things work, but do brides-to-be typically pay to attend bridal fairs? I've heard a radio commercial twice on my way to work that brags that admission to their bridal fair is free. For the average American bride, her wedding dress is the most expensive garment she will ever buy, the cake is the most costly she will ever pay for and the photos are the priciest she will ever have taken. Do the wedding industry hucksters charge admission too, or is this another meaningless come on in the ad? Man, I should have been a crook. There's big money in 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

If you live anywhere in the United States, with the exception of maybe Wyoming and Alaska, states with big oil money, chances are you are hearing daily about how broke your state, county and local governments are. Unfortunately, none of the bozos running our local government are capable of making hard decisions when it comes to closing a budget shortfall. So they make petty ones. One of the things that the geniuses running the City of Hooterville have done is to stop maintaining the medians. If you spray the medians before the weather warms up, you can prevent weeds from sprouting. Instead, they have created an eyesore. This is a sample of what is springing up all over town. Well, they have resolved our lingering basketball coaching vacancy. The University of Arizona is hiring a guy from Xavier University. He is being paid about $15m over 7 years. Nice money if you can get it. Maybe he can pitch in on the weed situation. So, I reluctantly turned on the local news to get the latest on this coaching business. The weather guy was doing the weather from an Methodist Church and featured a group of kid harpists. He said that they are the largest faith-based youth harp choir in the world. I wonder if there is a second-largest faith-based youth harp choir to dispute that? And I wonder if all the qualifiers in that title indicate that there is a larger, but secular youth harp choir somewhere? I need to know these things, damn it. For those who were interested the featured item at yesterdays birthday brunch was Chicken Wellington. Yummy. Plus, French Toast, homemade hash browns, sliced apples, sliced strawberries, Mimosas, and sourdough bread. And please don't tell Megan, but there was about five pounds of bacon, for those who like bacon. 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

We had a family get-together today to celebrate my birthday. Mrs. Sneed pulled out all the stops to make sure that we had a feast fit for a king. Not that I'm comparing myself to a king. If others do, I can't help that. The boys helped me read my cards. I got a new Canon camera from my kids and their families. You will probably notice the difference in quality of the photos in future posts. Or, the photo quality issues may turn out to be operator-based. I was out in the front of the house this evening and my neighbor Choochie saw me and came over to talk. Choochie's real name is Jesus. In Mexico the nickname for guys named Jesus is Chewie, so I can only assume that Choochie is some sort of variation on that nickname. Anyway, Choochie is about 75 and still works more than 40 hours a week as an accountant. He came over because he incorrectly thought that I used to work for Cox Cable. Why he thought that mystifies me. He wanted to complain to someone about his cable bill and to ask me about the DirecTV dish on our house. That would have been fine with me, if he hadn't been wearing his boxer shorts, a shirt and his slip on shoes, with black socks. I had a hard time following his conversation because I kept wondering if he just forgot to put on his pants or what. 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

This is from a rose variety called Diana, Princess of Wales. Springtime in the hardware business is busy. The boss has asked me to work four full days a week up from my usual two full and two half days. Terribly inhumane 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

Warning: This post is about college basketball, so you may wish to stop reading. The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play. And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game. The opening stanza of Ernest Thayer's poem Casey at the Bat. It is a poem about the emotional investment a small town made in a baseball player and his team. It sums up the situation here in Hooterville tonight. Hooterville is in a hand-wringing frenzy these days over the hiring of a new basketball coach at the University of Arizona. Hooterville is a college basketball town in a big way because frankly, there isn't much else going on here. Longtime coach and local hero Lute Olson has been in charge of the team for about 25 years. In that time he put Hooterville on the map, basketball-wise. Lute was a guy who could do no wrong in the eyes of most of the adoring Hootervillians. Without going into the gory details, Mr. Olson had a medical issued that resulted in the basketball team having no coach and no incoming players for next year. For the past two seasons the team had a interim coaches while Mr. Olson's situation played itself out. But now Olson has retired for good. Hootervillians have deluded themselves into the belief that anybody who is anybody in college basketball is just dying to get this coaching job. Rumors have been rampant over the latest coaching God rumored to be interested. All rumors have proven bogus thus far. Hootervillians are reluctant to admit that we are a collection of hicks stuck in a insignificant and dusty corner of the country. Not the midlle of nowhere, but definitely on the outskirts. The coach of the University of Southern California flew into town yesterday and the assumption was that he would take the job. Hootervillians were aghast. This guy was not big enough in stature to be our coach. No siree, we demand better. Apparently Mr. USC was as unimpressed with Hooterville as we were with him, so he said no and went home. As always, today was golf day. It was also Some Guy Named Bob's 73rd birthday. Weather was great, golf was fun and I wasn't at the hardware store. What's not to like about that? Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky