Ok, I don't mean to get off on a rant here, but I'm going to anyway.

Dateline California....

These little marks here mean I am quoting this,
not writing it.. ---> "

LOS ANGELES (Oct. 17) - A Southern California immigrant rights group on Friday asked Target stores and a costume company to stop selling a Halloween "illegal alien" costume it said is offensive to immigrants.
The costume features the mask of an alien with a green card and an orange jumpsuit with "illegal alien" written across the front.

Angelica Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights of Los Angeles, wrote e-mails to Minneapolis-based Target and Wisconsin-based BuySeasons, Inc. calling the costume "distasteful, mean-spirited, and ignorant of social stigmas and current debate on immigration reform."

" <-- this means I am done quoting and I am writing again.

I included the grammar lesson, because I would hate to offend any illegal aliens who may be reading this.

Actually, no I wouldn't.

Please take note. If you are an illegal alien, please be offended. Be very offended. Be so offended that you can't stand the thought of living in the same country as someone so offensive as me and please, take your illegal butt and haul it back to whatever country you came from.

I'm not sure what I find more outright offensive, the fact that there are entire advocacy groups and agencies who do nothing but fight for the rights of americans to be given to those who have no right to be here, or the fact that Target would actually listen to those groups and pull an item from their website.

I see those big red balls in front of the Target store, maybe its a sign that the comapny itself has none.

Maybe it's time a company took a stand. Tell the whiners that nobody gives a rat if the illegal aliens are offended by the costumes. I am offended by their very presence here, but I don't see Ms. Salas taking any measures to remove the offensive item from my country.

Offendeded?

Boo Hoo!

Southgate Computers, Customer Service Review

Ok, Many of you know that among other things, we do a bit of mystery shopping.

Sometimes, though, when I am just shopping and not 'working' I really wish that I had been mystery shopping at the time.

Recently I had occasian to visit Southgate Computers on Eyreka Road in Southgate Michigan.

We are a multi computer household, and from time to time, one of our computers develops issues.

Now, I can fix quite a few things on my own, but every once in a while I get in over my head.

We were looking for someone we could go to ewhen that happened. When I was in over my head and just needed a little bit of help. Someone I could pay a fair price for fair work, knowing that I would be treated fairly. Preferrable a l;ocal company, rather than one of the big chain stores. I really like to keep my money in the community if I can.

Computers and cars are two areas that are ripe for shams and scams. So many of us have them, we have come to depend on them, yet we are somewhat powerless when something goes wrong with one. We are at the mercy of the repair guy. Well, I hoped that I had found a company that I could trust.

My interaction with Southgate Computers began a couple months back, when I took in a laptop. A friend had soldered the power connector, but something still wasn't quite right. The employee looked at it, wiggled a few things and told me that the computer didn't need repaired, it just needed a new cord. She pulled one out, plugged it in and voila! It worked like a charm.

She could have told me it needed a new joghnson grommet in the psRI port module, and I would have believed her. I was prepared to spend up to about $150 to get that machine working, and I walked out the door with a $40 cord and a working laptop.

I was thrilled. Finally, I thought. A company that isn't going to try to cheat me.

Alas, I was sadly mistaken.

Last week our desktop started bogging down and overheating, so I opened it up to clean it. As I suspected it not only had dust bunnies, but entire colonies of dust rabbits, seemingly reproducing like rabbits do. In my zeal to clean out all the little fuzzy culprits, I unplugged the Processor chip by accident when removing the heat sink that sits on top of it.

For those who don't know, this is a small flat piece of silicon, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 350 small pins on the back, each with their corresponding hole in the motherboard, or main circuit board of the computer.

Steady hands were never my forte, that's why I didn't pursue a career in electronics, despite my interest, and why I'm probably never going to be a optical surgeon. So replacing the chip proved to be a task that was a bit overwhelming to me. No matter how hard I tried, not all 350 pins would line up with their holes at the same time.

Finally in disgust, I took the computer to Southgate Computers to see what they would charge to put the processor back in for me.

The guy at the counter gave me his best used car salesman smirk and said, "Well, you'll have to pay for a diagnosis, that's $65, but the cost applies toward any repair, and if it can't be fixed, it applies to the purchase of a new or used system."

Yeah, OK, I didn't need a diagnosis, I knew what the problem was, the processor was in my hand and not in the motherboard where it belonged, but... whatever.

Did I mention that they made me pay in advance?

I got a call a few days later from the tech at Southgate Computers.

It went something like this:

HIM--"I checked out your computer and there are a bunch of blown capacitors on your motherboard, it's really in bad shape. I wouldn't put any more money into this computer.

ME-- "Those capacitors aren't keeping the system from working though are they?"

HIM-- They probably will. I can't see how the system would work like this. It's basically shot. We can set you up with a used system if you want to come in and talk to us"

ME-- "I don't want to replace it, I have too much on that hard drive that I don't want to lose. Is there any way you can fix it?"

HIM -- Well, we can remove the hard drive and sell you an enclosure for it, so you have an external hard drive for your new machine with all your data. That would be your best bet. Frankly, I'm not even sure if I could have put the processor back in that unit, one of the pins is bent."

ME-- "wait a minute, you haven't put the processor back in yet? That was my entire reason for bringing it in to you."

HIN -- No, I wanted to wait and see what you wanted to do.

ME -- "What I want to do is have you put my computer back together. The mother board was working just fine when I brought it in, so if there are damaged components that must have happened at your shop, but I'm more interested in how you managed to run any kind of diagnosis without putting the processor back in. The unit won't even power on without that"

HIM -- "Well, I can try to put it back in, if I can straighten the pin, but it probably won't work."

ME -- Ok, just do your best and when I get back into town, I'll come over and we can talk about my options.

I picked up my computer today, the processor had been reinstalled, the computer works fine, and I am using it to write this rant.

I am $65 poorer, and learned a valuable lesson.

The next computer issue I have I don't know where I will go, but I know where I won't go.

Sad, sad, sad

I read today that President Obama has proposed that we add time to our school day and days to our school year, in order to "level the playing field".

It seems that he wants the children in this country to be more like those in other countries, although he didn't really specify which countries.

I saw an ad on TV last night that showed a seven year old girl breaking rocks. The voiceover explained that she did that for pennies a day to feed her family.

I recently read an article on the suicide rates among Japanese youth. These youth are under tremendous pressure, pushed hard in school, and into the workplace. Those who fail in school, or at their job, are considered a failure at life, and the honorable thing to do is kill themselves, so as not to be a burden on society.

A recent article in one of the news magazines, explored how young men in Afghanistan are forced to join the army sometimes as young as 10 years old.

I wonder which playing field it is we want to level?

The move to a longer school year, and longer school days is not a new concept. For years, advocates of such measures have argued that our current school year is based on the trends of agriculture, from a time when farmers needed their kids help in the fields. Since so few of our family farms still survive, the talking heads argue, it makes little sense to continue those same schedules.

Perhaps I'm just an old fashioned kind of guy, but I fail to see how further deterioration of he family, further separation of children and parents, further alienation, can possible be a good thing.

I get it. The powers that be have decided that parents are not capable of teaching their children, so the more time they can spend in classrooms ad the less time they can spend with their parents, the better prepared the children will be to face the "real world".

As proof, they point to inner city youth who spend their after school time in gangs. They point to children of illegal aliens, who struggle with English. They point to latchkey kids and children of the Playstation Generation, Alphabet Children, who spend their time in front of a video game, with fast food in one hand and the game controller in the other, playing Grand Theft Auto III. They point to the alarming number of children whose life revolves around their Facebook wall, their Twitter list, their MySpace Friends, and their buddy list.

While I agree that there are some dangerous trends among the youth of this country, I fail to see how spending more time at school will address those trends.

Perhaps, a more logical solution would be to improve the quality of the time already spent at school.

I propose instead, that there be a mandatory family time.

That instead of adding three hours to the school day. Parents should spend those three hours a day with their children. Without the interruption of work. Work should stay at the workplace where it belongs, schoolwork should stay at the school where it belongs, and families should spend time together, learning, exploring, teaching values, talking, playing, enjoying life and each others company.

I propose that if families spend more time together, and parents spend more time teaching their kids, we will see much better and longer lasting results than anything that can be accomplished by requiring students to spend more time in school.

Of course, sending the kids to school for longer hours and more days is much more convenient.

Besides that, it gives us someone to blame.

I won!

Just an update,

I finally got my money back from Fifth Third bank. It took almost two weeks after they promised to credit it, but eventually they did, including all the charges that I incurred as a result of their error.

Life is busy and hectic, like always, but I intend to return soon, for another edition of "Days of My Life..."

5th/3rd revisited

OK, This bank thing was just really bugging me.
I know it isn't a lot of money.

$39.00 to be exact.

I know people who spend more than that on beer each weekend.

But I'm not one of them.

$39.00 in Diann's capable hands, will buy enough groceries for us for two weeks.
It will buy an entire summer wardrobe for Lia.
It will buy us a night out together.
It will fill up the gas tank on my Ranger.

$39.00 is nothing to sneeze at.

So, I sat down and wrote a big long letter to the bank, and explained in great detail what had happened, and why I should get my money back. I sent it off, waited a couple of days, then called the bank. I very politely, and calmly walked the person who I spoke with through the entire incident, explaining that the bank had made a mistake, then, they had charged me a fee to pay for their mistake.
I went thorough my last few months statements, line by line with her over the phone, and she agreed with me.

The bank had made an error.

I should get my money back.

She told me that she had to check and make sure, but it sure looked to her like they owed me some money. She promised to call me back before the end of the business day and let me know if there was a problem.

I got a voice mail from her about an hour later, saying that she had confirmed that it was a bank error, and that they would be crediting my account in the amount of $39.00. This was Thursday, June 18. She told me I should see my money in my account by the end of the business day Friday, or Monday at the very latest.

Well, today was Wednesday, and I still haven't got my $39.00.

I don't know.

Do they think that if they play games long enough I will just forget about it?

Back where I came from, when you took something that did not belong to you, without permission of the owner, and kept it as your own, that was called stealing.

Some people even had fancy names for it when businesses did it, like theft, and fraud, and larceny.

Tomorrow, I guess I will have to call the bank again, and remind them that they still owe me some money.

Or maybe I should go in person. That way I can play them the voice mail message I have from last week, telling me that I should expect my money by Friday.

I feel like the paper boy in Better Off Dead.

"I. Want. My. Thirty. Nine. Dollars!!!"

Fifth Third Bank- Move over Dawes Tomes Mousley Grubbs Fidelity Fiduciary Bank

In Mary Poppins, Micheal Banks goes to the bank with his father George, who actually works at the bank. George attempts to show him where his money can be put to good use, and how it can grow over time with proper investment.

Micheal is having none of that. He yells, "Give my money back"

I visited the bank today, and I too wanted to yell: "Give my money back."

Perhaps I should explain.

Fifth Third Bank (those money grubbing leeches,) has a policy that allows two free non-fifth third bank ATM withdrawals per month. after that there is a charge for each one.

I made one in April, and was charged $2.00. I made two in May and was charged $2.00 each, for a total of $4.00. What happened to the free ones?? Who knows?

OK, I get it, their policy says one thing, they do another, not the first nor the last business to do that, especially in the banking industry. But here is the grind.

The fees they charged in May, $4.00 were applied when I had $3.97 in my account, so, of course, that cause my account to go into overdraft. I was then charged a $33.00 overdraft fee.

I went to the bank today and asked them to reverse that fee, as it was caused by an action that they, the bank took, rather than an action that I myself took.

The branch manager responded that she could not reverse the fee, because they had reversed fees for me in the past.

Now, I admit that I am not the money manager that my wife is, but I have never asked the bank to reverse fees unless I felt that the fees were a result of their error.

Apparently they have a "we only admit one error" policy.

So I have a new policy: "Sorry Fifth third, I can't pay a fee for an overdraft, because I have paid in the past."

I wonder if it would work in other situations as well?

"Yes, officer, I know I was speeding, but hey, I've paid fines in the past, so I don't have to pay one now."

I mean, what the heck, once you pay the fee, it's like a get out of jail free card. If you paid for a mistake in the past, you don't have to pay next time you make one.

I understand that with the change in the way the banking industry works, banks no longer can rely on the money that they are borrowing from me to stay afloat.
But since when do they get free rein to do what they want when they want with my money, with no accountability?

It isn't enough any more to use my money for their own purposes, paying me no interest on it, and only returning it when I ask for it.
They now have to rely on fees and charges, overt or covert, hidden or blatantly thrown in my face, to pay their bills. They somehow have decided that I am interested in paying out chunks of money on their whims, just for the privilege of doing business with them.

They have complete control over my money, and I get charged an average of $18.50 per transaction and there is nothing I can do about it.

If the bank ever runs out of money, Uncle Sam, (That's Mohama Rockabama) steps in with a fistful of dollars and an empty promise of accountability that cannot be enforced, and recharges their empty pockets.

Well, enough is enough.

I'm with Micheal Banks.

Give my money back!!

Tha Saga Part 3

The next 24 hours were a bit hazy for me. The morphine kicked in, and while it doesn't really make the pain go away, it makes your brain all fuzzy and woozy, so you don't really care as much. I remember them loading me back into an ambulance, because I remember the smell of exhaust in the loading area. There were several ambulances all idling there and the smell was overpowering, and I started to gag.

The next thing I remember was a whole group of people lifting me from the stretcher directly to an xray table, where they took a lot more xrays.

Then, I faded off and in the surreal world of morphine, I dreamed I had died. I heard a voice call my name, and I saw a face, surrounded by light talking to me. I asked if he was an angel, and he replied that he was a doctor.

He told me that the good news was that he was going to save my leg, and that I would probably walk again. The bad news was that it was going to take a long, long time. I had a very serious injury. He went on to describe in great detail, the extent of my injury and the steps necessary to fix it. I listened for a while, then asked him if he would mind writing it all down, because I wanted my wife to hear all this, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't remember. He asked me where my wife was, and I told him she was at home, but that she would be here in the morning. He told me he would come back and explain everything to her too.

I remember some sketchy details over the next 24 hours. They moved me to a room, to await surgery in the morning.

Somewhere between then and morning, I started getting blisters all along my leg. The nurse explained that they were fracture blisters. When you suffer trauma, and have swelling, that swelling is caused by fluid building up in that part of your body. I was actually building up so much fluid in this leg, that it was bursting through the skin in golf ball sized blisters, that would fill up and burst. The staff was busy all night wiping my leg down repeatedly with cold cloths and trying to ease the discomfort.
I was scheduled for surgery on my leg in the morning, but that was not going to happen the way they had planned.
Before they got me to the operating room, I developed what is known as compartment syndrome. Essentially this is severe, extreme swelling, as a result of trauma. My leg was so swollen that not only could they not do the surgery as planned, but they actually had to make a long cut down the side of my leg, to keep it from splitting open. (Think Ball Park Franks).

The surgeon explained to me that they could not do the surgery until the swelling had gone down, so instead the took several long metal rods and used them to splint my leg, by driving long metal pins through the rods and into the bone. I still have big divots where each of those pins was placed, and those sites still cause me a great deal of pain, but I digress.

So, to make a long story a little less long, it was quite some time before they could do the surgery to install the plates and screws and rods, and widgets, and hinges, and cotter pins and bolts and whatever else they stuck in my leg to hold it all together again.

Once they had completed that surgery, and made sure I was stable, they transferred me to a hospital closer to home.

On a side note, although it sounds like it would be fun, I do not recommend the back of an ambulance, while strapped to a gurney, with your leg in a metal brace, elevated above your waist, in excruciating pain, without the benefit of morphine, on icy roads, during a winter storm, as the ideal means of transportation for those wishing to travel from Grand Rapids Michigan to the Downriver area.

I do, however strongly recommend Butterworth Hospital, in Grand Rapids, should anyone be looking for a good hospital to stay a while.

I didn't realize how good I had it there, until I got to Henry Ford Hospital in Wyandotte.

Now, don't get me wrong. Henry Ford is a fine hospital. But while Butterworth is new, sleek and state of the art, Henry Ford is older, runs on a lower budget, and generally caters to a different clientele.

In any event, I was tired of hospital life and wanted to go home. Once the insurance company learned that Diann worked from home, so would be there to take care of me, so they would not have to hire a home aid, they were especially interested in sending me home as well, so I made it home before Christmas.

Now, taking care of someone who can't stand without help, cannot walk at all, requires a wheelchair to go anywhere, and is in a constant state of pain and drug induced stupor is a lot more work that one may assume.

I know it sounds easy, lifting me around, heaving my wheelchair in and out of our truck, carrying, bending, lifting, pulling, and pushing my wheelchair on icy sidewalks. But it actually wasn't.
Shortly after I was discharged, Diann was lifting my heavy duty wheelchair into the truck, and tore an abdominal muscle.
She had some serious back issues anyway, and this exacerbated those. She tore a ligament in her knee, we still aren't exactly sure how.
She did all this while working 40 hours a week, running our home, keeping everything clean and orderly for the endless chain of case workers, home care workers, therapists, and well wishers who popped in and out on a regular basis.
She would get up in time to help me get washed up and ready for the first workers who usually showed up around 9 am. Then she alternated between doing her work, and being a full time home care worker, until about 9:00 pm. Then she would work another 3-4 hours and go to bed well after midnight, so she could do it all again the next day.

Sometime mid February, we finally got a home care worker approved to come in and help with some of the basics. By that time Diann had already hurt herself several different ways.


So now, we have two separate people injured as a result of this accident.

Now how much would you pay??

But wait! There's more!

Watch this space for continuing chapters of The Saga Of Troy.....

The story.... The saga.... Continues... Part 2

Ok, I didn't mean to get off on an exploration of truck driving as a career in my last post, but I do think that for those who have not been exposed to the industry, it is important to know and realize that it doesn't work like a regular job.

You don't go to work at the same time each day, and go home at the same time each day. You go to work when they tell you to, each day varies, and you go home when the work is done. There's no such thing as overtime, and if you don't get the work all done on Monday, you finish it on Tuesday, but you still only get paid for one day of work.

So, having said that, let me return to my story...

As I indicated in my last post, September of 2005, I was on top of the world. Life was good. I was making good money, had a new truck, was out of debt, was reasonably healthy, and had high hopes for the next few years.

Maybe it was God reminding me to be humble. Maybe it was karma. Maybe it just was.

On Oct 17, after a long illness, my father passed away. No surprise, we had been expecting it, but that didn't make it any easier. Fortunately, we had all our credit cards paid off, so we could make a trip to Utah for the funeral. I was allowed 2 days of bereavement leave and had to take a couple extra days off, unpaid of course, to allow for the trip both ways and a day to spend with my family when I was there. But that's what you do. I had a decent income, and we would pay off the credit cards very quickly.

OK, back to work. November 15, I had to go to Columbus OH, and pick up the load that I was to deliver on Nov 16 in Grand Rapids MI.

I was told that my load would not be ready until at least 5:00 pm, so I arrived at our facility right around 5:00. My load was not ready, in fact, I did not get in until almost 8:00. I took one look at my paperwork, and immediately saw a problem.

This was something that we had discussed repeatedly in Safety Meetings, but the management at Exel claimed that there was nothing they could do about it.

I had four stops, all in the Grand Rapids Michigan area. One at the far western edge of the city, one at the far eastern edge and two high on the north end.

Logic would have me either start on the west side and move around to the north and then the east, then come home, of, start on the east, move around to the north and then the west and then come home.

But that was not how they were loaded. I was to start with one of the north locations. In order to get there I had to drive right past two of my other stops. Then I was to go to the west location. Then back to the east location, and finally end up back at the second north location.

This would add about 50 miles of back and forth, city driving to my day, increasing my work day by about two hours.

Stay with me here, because I am going to throw a whole bunch of numbers out, but I don't know any other way to explain my situation.

It was 8:00 pm when I was finally able to leave Columbus with my load, and it is a five hour drive back home. So I arrived at home at about 1:00 AM. Federal law requires that I take a 10 hour break at that point, for safety reasons. If I did that I could leave home at 11:00 am and drive to Grand Rapids, arriving at around 2:30 pm. This would give me 4 hours until the tire stores closed for the day.

I had four stops to unload, each one would take approximately 1-1.5 hours, and then there was an additional 2 hours of drive time, back and forth between the stops. so I had 6-8 hours of work to do. (this does not include my drive time of 3.5 hours there and 3.5 hours home, making it a typical 13-15 hour day) I had to have it done by 6:30 . This meant I had to arrive in Grand Rapids at 12:30 at the latest, and 10:30 would be even better. Allowing 3.5 hours for drive time, I had to leave home no later than 9:00 am, and preferably as early as 7:00 am. This was 2-4 hours earlier than what the law allows, but, as I have discussed, truck driving is a constant balancing act between safety, legality, and a days pay. If I did not complete the load on Wednesday, I would have to finish it on Thursday, losing a day's pay.

So, I compromised, and left home around 8:00 am. That gave me 6 hours of sleep, as much as most truck drivers ever get in one night anyway. I knew that I would be cutting it close at the end of the day, but as long as I hustled, I would be able to get all the work done, and get home somewhere around 10:00 pm.

My plan was going well, until my first stop. They weren't quite ready to receive the tires, they had someone in the way, I had to wait while they moved, then they had to get the unload crew together, all the things that take a few minutes here and a few minutes there, and so, I left that stop, an hour behind schedule. Then I fought the city traffic all the way across town to the second stop, arriving at lunch time. Their unload crew was at lunch, so I had to wait until they got back. I left that stop 1 hour and 45 minutes behind schedule. Stop number three was going well. Just as I was finishing, at around 5:30 pm, I got a call from my dispatcher, with my assignment for the next day, asking me if I was going to be able to do it. I explained that I had 1 hour before my final stop closed for the day, but it was only 30 minutes away, so if he would call them and tell them I was on the way, I would get there as fast as I could.

I walked back to the back of the trailer, and turned around to step down.

Let me interject here: A semi-truck trailer sits about 4.5 feet off the ground. at about 18" off the ground there is a metal bar called the DOT bar, designed to keep a car from running up under the trailer if it hits you from behind. The traditional way to get in and out of these trailers, was to use that metal bar as a step, hold onto the edge of the doorway, and climb in or out the trailer. There were no handles, no other straps, no grab bars, no safety equipment of any kind on the back of the trailers.

As I was unloading at this stop, it had started to snow, and there was a fine layer of snow covering the first 6" or so of the trailer floor, just inside the door. As I went to step down, reaching for the DOT bar, my other foot was sitting on snow, and as my weight shifted, I started to fall. the side of the trailer was slick, as it was wet fiberglass, and so there was nothing to grip, and I fell, coming straight down on my leg. When I hit the ground, I head two distinct pops, and my leg collapsed out from under me, I fell backward onto a pile of tires that was sitting behind me. I think those tires save me from any serious injury to my tailbone when I landed, as well as keeping me from hitting my head when I fell back.

I knew with no doubt, that my leg was broken, I heard it break, I felt it break. I was not yet in pain, but I knew that would come later. I asked the workers to call me an ambulance, as I knew I could not get myself to a hospital. I called my dispatcher and reported to him that my leg was broken, and I called Diann, (My wife), and told her that I had broken my leg, so I would need a ride home, and asked her to come and get me. Then I settled back in the snow and waited for the ambulance to get there.

At this point the employee who I had sent for an ambulance returned with his manager. It went something like this:

"Are you OK?"

"No, I broke my leg, did you call an ambulance?"

"Would you like to come inside? Maybe have a cup of coffee and get warm?"

"No, I cannot walk, I need an ambulance, will you call an ambulance?"

"Would you like me to call anyone? Your company or something?"

"How about an ambulance?"

They finally got the hint and called an ambulance. The fire truck arrived first, and the ambulance shortly after. I explained to them that my leg was broken, and they cut half of my pants off, splinted me up, and helped me stand up and lay down on a stretcher.

On a side note, I didn't want to leave until I was sure my truck was secure. There were approximately $25,000 worth of tires sitting in the back of an open trailer, that I was responsible for. The truck needed to be pulled forward about 5 feet so the back doors would close. Then they could be locked. There were 4 firefighters and 2 EMT's standing there and not a single one of them was willing to drive my truck forward 5 feet. I think finally they called the state police and they sent over a motor carrier enforcement division guy to drive the truck five feet and lock the doors.

They loaded the stretcher, with me on it of course, onto the ambulance and drove to the hospital. I don't remember much about the ride, except that as the shock wore off, the pain kicked in. I still was foolishly operating under the assumption that I would get to the hospital, they would put a cast on my leg, Diann would be there to pick me up by the time they were done, and I would head home.

At the hospital, they transferred me from the stretcher to a gurney, cut the rest of my pants off, took off my splint and wheeled me into an x-ray room. Shortly after the xrays were developed, the ER doctor came in and told me that I had a severe break, and he was calling in their orthopedic specialist to look at it. OK, no problem. Diann was still four hours away and wasn't quite sure where the hospital was anyway, she was just driving through the blizzard towards Grand Rapids.

The orthopedic specialist came in to see me, and informed me that my leg was worse than anything that he had ever treated in his life. He said that he would be willing to attempt it, if I really wanted him to, but he would be much more comfortable referring me to someone who had the skills to do it right. I agreed that I would be more comfortable too, and sat back to wait for the next guy. In the meantime, I asked if maybe I could have something for the pain, and my request was met with shock. Everyone had just assumed that someone else had already given me something, so I had been in severe mind numbing pain for about 2 hours. When the nurse came in to start an IV and give me some morphine, I was on the phone with Diann and I asked her if she would give Diann directions to the hospital. I handed her the phone and overheard just enough of the conversation to realize that:

A) I was not waiting for a different Doctor, I was waiting for another ambulance, that was going to drive me to a different hospital.

B) The nurse had told Diann that there was no hurry, I was going to be there a while, so she should turn around and go home and wait until morning to drive to Grand Rapids.

This was the first I realized that I was not going to get a cast and head home.

The story gets even better from there.
Watch this space for the next chapter, scheduled for release soon.

Office Depot

OK, it's rant time.

I haven't gone off on a good old fashioned, rant for a while and this one has been building for a couple of days.

I used to get all my printer paper and toner cartridges at Office Depot. They would take my old cartridge for recycling, and in exchange they would give me a ream of paper. It was a win/win situation. The cartridge stayed out of the landfill. They got to refill it, a process that costs them somewhere around $5 and then sell it for anywhere from $25 to $35 dollars, so giving me a ream of paper that they pay $1.50 for, so they can sell it at 100% markup of $3, was not a bad deal.

Then, the price of their paper started to climb. The same 20# paper that I get at WalMart for $3.25 a ream, or at Big Lot for $2.99 a ream, is now packaged in an Office Depot label, and sells for $4.50 a ream. They quit trading the cartridge for a ream of paper, but instead gave me a $3 coupon, I could use on anything in the store.

This allowed me to:

a) buy a ream of paper for $1.50, or

b) buy my toner cartridge for$28.99. (Toner at Walmart was $29.99, so with the discount, I could now get my toner at Office Depot. Smart marketing move on their part.)

This wasn't quite as good a deal, but it still was enough to make me happy, and keep me coming in the door.

But alas, all good things have to come to an end.

Friday I went to Office Depot to get a toner cartridge. I took an old cartridge, so I could get my $3 off, making it a dollar less than WalMart. When I got to the register, the manager, who was working the register, explained that they have changed that now. Now, they add the $3 to my Office Depot Rewards Card, along with 1% of my total purchase of paper or toner, and they will send me a check every quarter. Then, she pointed out that my balance has to be at least $10, or they wont send a check.

OK, lets do the math. My toner cartridge now costs $2 more than it does at Walmart, so I wont be buying it there any more. My paper costs $1.50 more than WalMart, so I wont be buying paper there. What the heck am I going to buy at Office Depot, that is going to allow me to accumulate $10 in rewards? Keep in mind that at 1% of my purchase, I have to spend $1000 in order to get my $10, unless, that is, I want to buy 3 more toner cartridges, (at a $2 loss for each one.)

I explained to the little manager lady, that I don't buy enough at Office Depot to ever earn $10, because they are so ridiculously overpriced on everything they sell. The only reason I was buying my toner there is because the $3 savings actually saved me a dollar, and now that they have taken that away, I won't be doing that either.

I finished by pointing out that she got my sale today, but she had just lost me as a customer.

Was it worth it?

Do stores like Office Depot really think that, with the economy the way it is right now, with their profits plunging 85%, their stock falling 55% and their sales increasing only 1% in the last year, they can afford to lose customers?

Do they really think that they have a secure enough customer base of big spenders, to afford to lose little spenders like me? I only spent about $750 last year on paper and toner, hardly enough to worry about in the big scheme of things.

But how many other $750 a year customers do they think they can afford to lose?

OK many of you know my story, but for those of you who may have joined me halfway through the season, let me just recap:

In September of 2005, my wife and I were out of debt, we both had good FICO scores and we bought a brand new truck at the lowest interest rate Ford was offering at the time, because we both qualified. I was making over $50k a year, my wife had a part time job making between $15k and $20k, and we had some goals and plans ahead of us.

We hoped to buy a house within the year, pay our truck off early, and thought about travelling once our truck was paid for.

Life was good.

I was driving a truck, for Exel Logistics, delivering Goodyear tires. This was hard physical work, hot in the summer, cold in the winter, dirty year round, but it paid well, and allowed me to use the skills I had, (not having any education to speak of, beyond high school) to make a decent living.

Let's detour for a moment into the world of truck driving, which, for those outside the industry, is a whole new alien world.

Trucking involves several players.

The Shipper: This is the person who manufactures, or otherwise procures goods, and needs them transported to someone else.

The Receiver: This is the person to whom the goods are transported.

The Driver: This is the person who operates the truck, to transport those goods.

The Dispatcher: This is the person who tells the driver where to go to pick up goods, where to take them, when to pick them up, when to deliver them, and any other relevant information that the driver needs to know in order to please the shipper and the receiver and still make a profit for the company.

The Company: This is the corporation that contracts with the shipper, to get his goods to the receiver.

The Client: This is the person who owns the goods.

The client is generally the one who pays for the shipping, although they will often then pass that cost along to the receiver, who then factors it in to the final cost for the end user.

So, for example, when you buy a tube of toothpaste at WalMart, part of the price of that tube is some money that Proctor and Gamble (client) paid to XYZ Trucking, (company) to pick up that toothpaste at the factory in Findlay Ohio (shipper) and deliver it to the WalMart Warehouse in Coldwater Michigan (receiver).

The shipper generally sets the date and time for the goods to be picked up, then schedules the date and time they will be delivered. They then tell the company those dates and times, and the company agrees to meet those deadlines.

Here is where it gets tricky. The company then tells the dispatcher the dates and times, and the dispatcher passes them along to the driver. It often will go something like this:

Dispatcher: Ok, I need you to pick up a load of bottled water in Indianapolis IN at 10:00 pm on Tuesday and deliver it at 7:00 am on Wednesday in Canton MI. That's only 250 miles, its a five hour drive, and that gives you nine hours, so you should have plenty of time.

Driver: If I have no problems, no trouble, no traffic issues, and everything goes smoothly, I will arrive for my load at 10:00, by the time I check in, sign my papers and get my trailer assignment, it will be 10:30. Assuming the trailer is ready and waiting, already loaded, it will be 10:45 by the time I hook up. I drive for 5 hours, and arrive in Canton MI at 3:45, having driven through the night, and you want me to deliver that load 3 hours and 15 minutes later? Can I deliver it at 3:45 when I get there, so I will be done with it and can get some sleep?

Dispatcher: No, this is a very strict delivery appointment. You can't arrive more than 15 minutes early, and if you are more than 15 minutes late, you will be turned away and have to reschedule.

Driver: Ok, so what do I do, from 3:45, until 6:45?

Dispatcher: I'd try to get some sleep, because I have another load in Dearborn MI that needs to get to Louiseville KY. It needs picked up at 10:00 am, sharp. It's a hot load and they need it in Louiseville before 8:00 pm. If it's not there, they will have to shut down the assembly line until it arrives. (This is called JIT -Just In Time- freight, it is a common practice and it happens every day all day long every day. )

Driver: We need to adjust some time somewhere, otherwise I won't get any sleep and I will be running tired.

Dispatcher: Sorry, we can't change anything, this is what the client needs. Our job is to take care of the client.

Driver: I can't do both of those loads safely and I can't log both loads legally.

Dispatcher: I wish I could help you here but my hands are tied. This is what the client is demanding. I have no choice. I have faith in you. Just go out there and do what needs to be done. We have to keep this client happy. I'm counting on you. You are the only driver I have that can do this. I need you.

At his point the driver has two options.

Take the loads, knowing that there is no way they can be completed safely and legally in the time parameters required, and do them, either breaking the law and running unsafe, or doing them legally and getting there late, knowing that this will result disciplinary action,

Or

Refuse the loads. This will result in the driver sitting, unpaid for the time that it takes for someone else to do the loads. Then, they will be last on the list to get an assignment after that, so they may end up sitting, unpaid for several days.

So, now that you have been introduced to Truck Driving 101, watch this page closely in the next day or two, as continuing chapters of the saga unfold.

Freak of the Week

The nominees for this week, for Freak of the Week, included:

Nominee #1

Blonde ditz and general has-been Britney Spears, for tweeting on Twitter: " Love is love! People should be able to do whatever makes them happy!"

Nominee #2

American Idol Contestant Adam Lambert, for all around Freakishness of every level.

Nominee #3

Star of the Burger King ads, The Burger King King, for his freaky Sponge Bob Squarebutt ads.

Results

On reviewing the qualifications, our highly acclaimed panel of judges had to examine several criteria.

~Does the nominee exhibit freakishness above and beyond that of a normal freak?

~Taken out of context of the most current display of freakishness, does the nominee still appear freaky?

~Is the freakishness openly obvious or is it more discrete freakishness?

~ Does the nominee have what it takes to win the Freak of the Year competition?

So, without further fanfare, here's what our judges, as well as our audience, had to say:

Britney Spears was tweeting about a comment made by Miss California Carrie Prejean in the Miss USA Pageant, when asked about same sex marriage. While Britney is indeed freaky, on several levels, her freakishness, when we take away the context of her tweet, did not appear open or obvious above and beyond that of your average everyday freak.

Britney got 9% of the popular vote, and a score of 21 out of a possible 100 points from our international panel of esteemed judges.

Adam Lambert was determined to openly and obviously display a level of freakishness above and beyond that of the normal freak. One judge, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said " Adam clearly has what it takes to win Freak of the Year."

But the judges determined that Adam's freakishness this week, was somewhat less than he has displayed in the past.

Adam got 17% of the popular vote and was awarded a score of 62 out of a possible 100 from our expert judges.

The Burger King King was determined to also exhibit a level of freakishness above and beyond that of the normal freak. In or out of context, it was determined that He demonstrates an extreme freakishness that is overt, obvious and generally offensive. He has already been nominated for Freak of the Year, and receives more nominations and endorsements every week.

The King got an overwhelming 72% of the popular vote, and a score of 96 out of a possible 100 from our judging panel.

2% of the popular vote remained undecided.

So, with this victory, the King moves on in the competition and will be the reigning champion in next weeks Freak of the Week challenge.

We are looking for your nominations. Who do you think can unseat the Burger King King as Freak of the Week?

Please leave a comment with your nomination.

Garden update

In 1978, David Mallet, wrote The Garden Song. Every year, around this time, as I get the gardening bug, I think about that song. Arlo Guthrie recorded it at one time, and a more popular version was sung on the Muppet Show, by John Denver.

But I like the original, by Dave Mallet, and I find myself humming it to myself, as I play in the garden.

Here is Dave Mallet himself, singing his song:



The song went through my head as I lifted the lid on my "greenhouse"
and saw all the baby plants starting to grow.

This is my favorite part of gardening, I feel like a little kid, and I want to run in every morning and check them, as soon as I get up. There aren't any real leaves yet, but they are a whole lot of little seedlings.













Of course, there are a lot more than I will need, and eventually they will have to be thinned out, but I'm hoping to have some strong healthy plants to choose from.


It kind of makes me feel like a farmer. Maybe I'll go put my overalls on and chew on a long piece of grass, and scratch my head and talk about the weather.

Reckon it'll rain?

My Challenge to the Auto Industry

OK, I see the same TV ads everyone else sees. General Motors is doing the whole, "We can do this America" things and it makes for a good campaign except for one thing. Nothing changed. They aren't doing anything different except for using the economic crisis to sell cars.

So, I would like to take the opportunity to issue a challenge to General Motors, and to Ford Motor Company.

You want bail out money? You want the United States to help you out of a crisis? I'm ok with that. The auto industry is a big part of what made our country great in the last century, and it represents a bigger part. It represents the everyday Americans who go to work, and do their job, and go home, and keep our country moving. The auto industry has been there through the tough times. We owe it to them, to be there for them.

So, here is my challenge.

You want to show your American Spirit? You want us to put our "Rally Caps" on and rally with you? You want to prove that you, as corporations, and we, as American People are on the same side?

Here's how to do it.

STEP 1)

Pick one model from your 2010 line up. Doesn't matter which one. Just pick one. Any one.

Build that vehicle entirely in the USA. Make sure that every piece, every part, every nut, bolt washer and grommet, every seal, o-ring, and bearing, from the tires, right up to the radio antenna, and everything in between are made in the USA.

Make a truly American Made car.

I know that you can't do that with every vehicle you sell right now. I understand that it just wouldn't be feasible or practical, at this point. But do it with one. If you can only afford to make a few thousand of them, that's fine. Make as many as you can. But make them in the United States of America. Don't put a single foreign part, piece or component on that car anywhere.

STEP 2

Stand behind that car.

Forget about this 36,000 mile thing, or this five year power train thing, or any of the other gimmicky things that means you will weasel out of making a warranty repair. Truly stand behind that car. 10 years, or 100,000 miles, whichever comes first. Anything goes wrong, fix it.

Don't squabble, don't dicker or bicker, don't weasel, don't make excuses, or offer long explanations about how or why it's not truly a warranty issue. Just fix it.

Again, I don't expect you to stand behind every car you make, at least not at first. But stand behind the True American Car. Let the American people know that you have faith in them. That you believe in them. That you stand behind America, just like you are asking America to stand behind you right now.

As an American, and as a resident of Michigan, I stand firmly behind the Auto Industry.

I recognise the contribution the industry has made to our state, our nation and our world.

I understand that the industry has done so much, for so long, for so many, that it is only fair that we, as Americans give some back.

But I just want to make sure that all this talk of "We can do it" and "Get our rally caps on" is sincere, and not just some empty rhetoric, dreamed up by an ad man in a back office.

Step up to the plate folks. Show us you mean it.

Make an American car and stand behind it.

That's my challenge.

If you agree, please pass this along.
If you strongly agree, print it out and mail it.

Here is some information:

Ford Motor Company
Customer Relationship Center
P.O. Box 6248
Dearborn, MI 48126

General Motors Corporation
P.O. Box 33170
Detroit, MI 48232-5170

Shuttin' Detroit Down

OK, first of all, let me just say that although I have been a country fan most of my life, I never really liked the music produced by the band Big & Rich. Their style just didn't match mine.
But, I have to say that since he has launched his solo career, I have started to like John Rich, more and more.

That being said, his latest song is one that everyone needs to hear.

Read the lyrics, watch the video.

It makes one think!

If the video doesn't start on it's own, you may have to click the "Play" button.

Tax Day Tyranny

April 15.

Tax Day.

The day every year when we, as Americans, collectively and voluntarily allow the theft of our money to be legitimized.

Income tax.

Another way of saying, if you receive something, someone else is automatically entitled to a portion of it.

So, as a marketing gimmick, and a way to draw people into their businesses, many companies offered special giveaways or freebies on Tax day. Cinnabon, Subway, McDonalds, MaggieMoos, just to name a few in this area...

Being a good friend of the Chief Editor as well as the Lead Writer of The Thrifty Groove, a blog dedicated to helping people save money, even in a tough economy, I felt like I had the inside scoop on where to find the best deals, and where to get the best freebies!

Hah!

My first attempt at a freebie was a Subway in Ann Arbor. Subway was supposed to be giving a free cookie to anyone who asked. There were no signs about a free cookie, but I asked them anyway. Neither employee had any idea what I was talking about.



Then I went to McDonalds. The first McDonalds was opened on April 15, so they had twice the reason to recognize the day. They were offering various promotions around the country being reported on news sites and blogs everywhere. The employees at the McDonalds in Ann Arbor had no idea what I was talking about.

Next, I visited Cinnabon, in Taylor, where they were supposed to be giving free Cinnabites. they had a sign posted advertising their free tax day Cinnabites. I bought a drink, and without even having to be asked, the employee offered me two free Cinnabites. Woohoo! Things are looking up!

I walked across the hallway to Subway and asked about the free cookie, they looked at me like I was asking if I could borrow their car or something.... No freebie there!

I stopped on my way home at a local McDonalds and again asked about the Tax Relief Special. After a long pause the employee answered, "We don't do that. Do you have a coupon or something?" I told her it was on their web site, she again replied, "Oh, we don't do that".

So, I came home Big Mac-less

Moral of the story.

Businesses, like government, often promise more than they deliver.

April 15 can be a reminder of that.

The, "Can I Be A Normal Person?" Challenge

OK, I know I am capable of things other than wild rants and opinions which, although generally (always) right, can sometimes be worded a bit more emphatically than one may see on the more sissy-prissy blogs one may read.

So, In the spirit of the buzz phrase of 2009, "These Tough Economic Times", I have decided that I am going to give our herb garden a little extra push and see what kind of results we can get this year.

We have been working for a couple of years on growing some fresh herbs. We both like to cook. We use fresh herbs to cook, and we have fun growing them. Not to mention, that when it is time to dry them, I do it on cookie sheets that I set in my truck, and the truck smells absolutely delicious.

For the next little while , I am therefore, going to attempt regular blog segments dedicated to my gardening adventures.

Of course, I will make sure and include a rant or two, just to keep myself sane.

So, I got one of those little trays with all the peat pellets ($5 Walmart)

and some seeds, and I am going to attempt to germinate some plants, and transplant them outside. If it works, we will have way more herbs than we need, or can use, and we will be sharing them. If it doesn't, the evidence will be here on my blog, for the world to critique, and mock, at their own leisure.

These things are incredibly easy to use, and easy to figure out. The directions are written in 3 different languages, in case you want to practice your linguistic skills while you wait for the plants to grow.

The first thing you do is open the package and add water.

There are a whole bunch of little pellets, that look like miniature hockey pucks that are actually peat moss, and potting soil, wrapped in a biodegradable netting and compressed into a wafer. They expand when they get wet, kind of like those little foam lobsters that you get at the dollar store.

Once they are done growing, like tiny little alien creatures, right before your very eyes, you are ready to plant your seeds.

I use a pencil to make a hole, not because the package says to use a pencil, but because that's what my mom used when she used peat pellets, way back when I was a kid. Just push it down through the netting and into the peat about an inch, or whatever depth it says on your particular seed packet, when you pull it out you have a nice hole to drop your seeds into.

Because I have big fingers, and seeds are so tiny, I like to pour them out of the package and into some kind of dish. That way I can control them a little bit better.

(This also allowed me to discover that one of my packets was labelled "Contains 100 seeds", and it actually only had 47, but that's the beginning of a rant and this entry is rant-free)

I dropped three seeds into each hole.

My grandpa used to put 4 kernels of corn in each hole.

He said:

One for the magpie,

One for the crow,

One for the cutworm,

One to grow.

I'm hoping no magpies, crows, or cutworms find their way into our house, but I remember from a project in Boy Scouts years ago, that seeds only have about a 50-75% germination rate, and that was under ideal conditions. If every seed actually grows, I will have lots of little seedlings, and can then choose the strongest and healthiest ones to move to the garden.

After you drop the seeds in the hole, you just push the peat back down to close up the hole, and Voila! It's that easy. The cover goes back on, making a little greenhouse, and you wait 3-7 days for the seeds to germinate.

Waiting was always my least favorite part.

So, I have 72 little pellets. Mini planters, if you will, each with 3 tiny seeds inside.

I planted one row, or six pellets, of cherry tomatoes. One row each of Sweet Basil, Bush Basil, and Genovese Basil, and two rows of Purple Basil. Not because Purple Basil is any better, but because I am hoping it will add some color and variety to our garden.

That left me with six rows to plant. I planted two rows each of Spearmint, Rosemary and Thyme. All three of these are supposed to be perennials, (Meaning they come back every year.) We haven't had a lot of success with Rosemary making it through the winter here, so I hope to get a plant or two that I can keep inside through the winter as well.

We have been trying to build a solid base of perennials and then work the annuals in around them.

We already have a healthy Sage plant, a good solid Oregano plant, two healthy Savory bushes, (Probably need to give one of those away this year). A good patch of Chives, and several good clumps of Garlic.

I got a Sweet Marjoram plant at the end of the season last year, and planted it. It didn't grow very much last year, but I'm hoping it does better this year.

We also have more Dill than we need. We planted it one year and it grows wild in our herb garden every year now. It's not supposed to be a perennial, but it seeds off. It's easy to see why it is called Dill Weed, because It can get out of control if you let it, but we try to keep it cut when it starts to get too high, and don't let it go crazy until toward the end of the season.

The seeds I planted today will all be welcome additions to our garden, if they all grow.

Check back here for regular gardening updates.

I am also interested in any tips, suggestions, ideas, for using fresh herbs, drying herb. or any other recipes or ideas that my fellow herbalists may have.

Leave me a comment and let me know what herbs you grow, and how you use them.

Tigers... Grrr

Ok.... So.... I just got home from a freaky, hectic day in Downtown Detroit.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a regular Baseball's Biggest Fan. Whenever there's a game, from the Red Sox to the Bobby Sox, I'm out there, waving my pennant, hoping to catch a foul ball.

Or, like they say back in my home country:

Me llevan a la bola de juego,
Me lleve a la multitud.
Comprarme unos cacahuetes y cracker-jacks,
No me importa si yo nunca volver.

But there's a time for peanuts and Cracker Jacks, and there's a time for conducting business. Noon, on a weekday is no time to shut down a major metropolitan area, and open up the streets to block parties, beer fests and general public displays of revelry.

Yeah, folks I'm as happy as could be that the Tigers are playing their season opener here at home.

I'm just as thrilled as you that we beat the socks (Sox) off Texas 15-2. But get a grip folks.

Some of us still have things to do that don't involve closing down entire city blocks, diverting traffic and playing music at a decibel level loud high enough that the United Federation of Planets Tigers fans can hear Slappa the Rappa and his posse of Crappa hip hoppin' about who is gonna put who down.

It's just a game for heavens sake. A bunch of grown men, running around on a field chasing a little ball and hitting it with sticks.

So, it marks the end of a winter that we, especially here in Michigan could have done without.
So, it represents spring, new beginnings, new life, Good Friday and all that stuff.

Yeah, it was a nice day, the sun was shining, the flowers are blooming and little birds are chirping in the tree tops. It was a good day to get out, see the sunshine, smell the flowers.

But couldn't people do that just as well in the privacy of their own homes?
Why is it necessary to shut down the streets of a major city to have a party.
Do we want the rest of the world to think that nobody around here has a job?

It's a Sad, Sad World...

Alas, even in today's world of technology, when we think we have all the answers, the human factor enters in.

Last Night's American Idol was just such an example.

Now before we get into the rant part, lets explore a few facts:

Fact 1, Lineup.
Whenever a show of this nature calls for viewers to vote, and doesn't start the the votes until the show is over, the final slot on the lineup is the coveted slot. That's the performance that everyone remembers.

Hence the keynote speaker at conferences is always last. The band never plays before their warm-up group at concerts.

Fact 2, Influence
The producers of American Idol certainly allow America to vote, but they also know that they are expected to advance a career for whomever wins, so they have to do everything in their power to make sure that the winner is someone they want to work with.

Fact 3, unexplainable phenomenon.
For whatever bizarre and unexplainable reason, the producers of American Idol think Adam "Freak Boy" Lambert is a superstar, worthy of their everlasting fawning and attention.

Ok, Now we have the facts out of the way, lets deal with reality.

He's a freakin freak! He may have talent, but he chooses instead to hide his talent, not under a bushel, but under a bucket. The bucket that he should have used to carry his tune. His voice sounds like a combination between a bagpipe with a hole in it and a mouse running around the bottom of a metal can.

He screeches, squeals and shrieks like an amateur soundtrack for a 1960's independent sci-fi film and the judges act like he just lip synched Frank Sinatra.

He has proven that he has the ability to look good, if he chooses to do so, but instead he appears on stage looking like a Village People rendition of a futuristic Elvis Presley having a bad hair day.

Seriously, the guy could take some tips from Jack McFarland on how to appear more masculine. The funny thing is going to be when he comes out, and all of the teeny-girls who have been going gaga, and texting votes at 10 cents a pop on their parents cell phone bills all discover that it really is Adam and Steve, not Adam and Eve. (Not that there's anything wrong with that but ...)

So anyway,

Last night, American Idol, as always, set Adam Lambert up to be a superstar. They gave him the cherry on the cake, the "pimp position" singing last, so as to garner more votes. What they didn't figure on was that the guy with the timer must have been on vacation, because the show ran 8 minutes over, and all those people who set their Tivos didn't get to see Adam screech his way through Tears for Fears song Mad World.

Oh well, too bad, so sad.

I'm just afraid that if he actually gets eliminated, because of this, he will cry foul, the judges will use their judges save, the producers will decide it was a technical error, and give them a new judges save, and Adam will have skated through one more horrific performance.

I wish he would just get his falsetto butt back to whatever garage band he plays with and leave the singing to the real singers.

I don't get it

Why is it, I'd like to know, that so many people in this country have such a penchant for re-electing idiots?

This is not a new thing, by any means. From mayors to senators to presidents,nationally, locally, and in various places around the country. (can you spell Chappaquiddick ?)

It boggles my mind. Someone gets sent to prison on drug charges, and so when he gets out, to show how glad we are that he is reformed, we elect him mayor of Washington DC.
Someone can cheat his way through school, hide in the military in an appointed position his dad gets for him, wreck a car and kill someone, rack up a variety of criminal charges and scandals and still be elected to office.

OK, I can see that, I don't agree, I don't like it, I don't vote for them myself, but I can see it.
But then, when that person gets into office and has wild, illicit parties in the mayoral mansion, smokes pot on the White House roof with Willie, and proves to the world that they had no business being elected and what do we do?

Do we impeach them? Censure them? Flay them? Tar, feathers, run out of town on a rail?

No, of course not!
We re-elect the bozos.

Nationally we have all seen it. Locally, I am once again beside myself in utter amazement as the fine city of Detroit, which has not yet recovered from the scandals and turmoil surrounding the recent mayor, struggles with a city council president who has been nothing but loud obnoxious trouble since as long as I have lived in Michigan and has managed, during that time, to work her way from obnoxious and irritating council member to obnoxious and irritating council president.

Now, she not only gets to act like the world owes her something (as well as all her family members who she finds jobs in city government) but she has the power and authority to get it.

How can Detroit hold it's head up and ask the Federal Government for help in their time of need with one face, and elect people like this to public office with the other?

Do the voters of Detroit really have no clue? Or are they actually proud of they way people like this and the former mayor make them look in the eyes of the rest of the world?

Well, I for one, have set my mind to developing a solution, and I think I have it.

It's a win/win situation.

I propose that we sell the city of Detroit to Canada. In exchange for taking Detroit, they can have our half of the bridge and any and all profits made there. And the tunnel.

All we ask is that they work with us in erecting a large solid wall between Detroit and Michigan.

We would of course lose the Detroit Tigers, which would be sad, but they would get the Lions, so that balances that out.

I'd hate to see the Red Wings go, but with them becoming a Canadian team, the total of Stanley cup championships claimed by Canada would be a 48, one more incentive for Canada, (who may reasonably and justifiably balk at the deal.)

After all, Canada has never really believed that the USA knew anything about Hockey anyway.

Next time you hear a fan yell "Go Detroit" ask yourself, are they cheering for the team? Or are they encouraging the city to leave.

My money is on the latter.

Mini Rant

So.......... I was watching the news tonight and there was a story about a 65 year old man somewhere in the metro area who had gone missing.

Sad story, family distraught, all that stuff.

OK. I can see that, but then the newscaster, not a family member, but a newscaster, went on to say that the man's house had been broken into and robbed.

OK, folks. News flash here.

A House CAN NOT be robbed. A house can be burglarized, a house can be broken into, burned, damaged and invaded, but it cannot be robbed.

Robbery involves force or fear. If I pick your pocket, I haven't robbed you. If I throw you to the ground and take your wallet, I have robbed you. If I point a gun at you or even tell you I have a gun. and take your wallet, I have robbed you. But in order to be robbed, you must be an animate object. I can rob you, your sister, your friend, your neighbor, your co-worker, or the guy who works the night shift at the power plant, but I cannot rob your house.

A house is not alive.

I don't expect everyday people to know the difference, but a freakin' newscaster, whose job it is to get the facts straight, should know the difference.

When newscasters don't know their information, maybe we have all been robbed.

Henry VI Part II

"The first thing we'll do is kill all the lawyers, "

Those who defend the legal profession are quick to point out that when Dick the Butcher uttered those famous words, in Henry VI as written by William Shakespeare and then goes on to advocate hanging, "With his ink and quill horn around his neck", that this is not in fact a condemnation of the entire profession.

Quite the contrary, the words, when read in context actually point out that the first step to rebellion or revolution is to kill the lawyers.

Shakespeare was trying to imply that lawyers are the ones who maintain law and without them, we would have a society of lawlessness.

This may have been true in that time and place. Bear in mind that England does not have quite the same type of government that we enjoy here. The checks and balances that make up the foundation of our government were trumped at that time, by a monarchy, so it was the lawyers who helped to maintain order and balance withing the legal system.

Well, welcome to the zeros! This is simply not the case in 21st century America. contrary to what they may wish to believe, lawyers are not the glue that holds our society together.
They simply represent a necessary, but unpleasant facet of our civilization, right up there with trash collectors, morticians and bill collectors.

They deal with the refuse of society, and profit of the misfortunes of others.

Is it then, any wonder, why so many of them prefer the term "attorney", to "lawyer," knowing that "lawyer" and "liar" sound too much alike for many people to differentiate between the two. And further realizing that many people would not bother to differentiate even if they could?

OK, Got that off my chest.

I have been waiting patiently, for quite some time, for a trial that was supposed to take place on January 31, then was postponed to March 31, and now had been postponed indefinitely.

The explanation seems vague, filled with lots of words that have many syllables but say nothing. What it boils down to is this. Two lawyers, neither of who have nearly as much at stake as I do, get together on a regular basis and make plans, changes, and decisions as to when it will be the most convenient for them to have their little meetings and conferences.

Never mind the fact that each time they delay it makes my life a living hell.

Never mind the fact that they are playing with my life, my livelihood and my future. All that matters is whether or not my life somehow interferes with their tee time.

Well, I hope they get their tee times, and I hope both of them end up with their balls in the lake.

Where's Dick the Butcher when you need him?

Altruism is my middle name.

Now don't get me wrong, I like to help mankind and do my part to keep the world green, and save the rain forests and the whales, and eat soy bean sprouts and use solar power, and love a lot of people and sell a lot of flowers just as much as any of the other long haired freaky people I hang out with down at the bar on Friday Nights.

I'm a regular Euell Gibbons of the new millennium. Greenpeace, Sierra Club, Granola Coalition Earth Day, spokesman, that's me.

I am all about the greater good, adding to the benefit of humanity, even if it is at great personal sacrifice and all that other stuff.

But even I, in my moments of great nobility, have my moments of weakness.

Like today for instance.

I signed up to do a medical research study. Now, I was hoping it would be one where I was asked to try a new very potent painkiller to see if the psychedelic side affects were really long term or not, but it was nothing that exotic.

Basically, it involved an hour of answering questions about my lifestyle, and then allowing them to take 60 c.c.'s of blood. No big deal.

When I signed up, they indicated that this was a paid study, and that for my time I would get a Meijer gift card. Cool, I thought. Everyone can use a few dollars to spend on groceries.

So, I fasted from midnight on the day of the study, dragged my butt out of bed at some ghastly hour of the morning and drove halfway across the country in the rain to get there in time for their ridiculously early appointment. (translation, I had to be in Ann Arbor by 8:30 am.)
I finished the study and the woman asked me if I wanted them to mail me a check, or just give me cash.

I told her that either one would be fine, but that I thought that I was going to get a Meijer gift card.

She said that they just put that in the details to discourage people who are just doing the study for the money.

OK. So here was where I had to stop and think.

I know I am a great humanitarian and all, but do I really come across as someone who would get up in the middle of the night and trek through the wilderness to get my blood drawn all for the greater good of humanity?

Do I really strike people as that altruistic?

If so, I think it's time to work on my image.

It's all about Style!

OK, so Diann and I are sitting at Big Boy, minding our own business and enjoying our meal. There are these two high-schoolish guys sitting at a table across from us. They have obviously been there a while, the waitress who served them finally comes and asks them to cash out so she can go home. They are hunched over a notebook, discussing something. I can't help but overhear from time to time, and it is obvious they are writing a song.

We eat our meal, and they do their thing, and then one of the guys comes over to our table with a sheet of notebook paper and asks us if we will do him a favor. He writes songs he explains and he is working on a love song. Will we read it and tell him what we think.

A whole bunch of thoughts run through my mind. Do we look like a pair of star crossed lovers who are ready to swoon at being serenaded? Or do we look like artsy kind of people who could attend a poetry reading and give our input? Do we look like traveling troubadours, or minstrels who roam the country writing a bit of song for a bite of bread?

But there I go, off on an imagination tangent.

Diann recovered faster than me and pointed at me, explaining to the young man that I write songs myself and I would be the one to ask.

Great Diann, put me on the spot here.... LOL.

So I read his song.

Now, first of all I have to say that yes, I do write songs and poetry from time to time. When I do, I pay a lot more attention to rhythm, cadence and meter than most songwriters today seem to, and I will often spend weeks working on a particular line until I get the words, all in the right place. When I write a poem or a song it is important to me that not only the lines rhyme when they should, but that they have the right number of syllables in them and that the emphasis is on the same syllable in each line so that the cadence and meter are consistent.

Diann knows this and so she was quick to point out to the guy that he was about to get an actual critique, of meter and rhythm. He acknowledged that would be okay, so I gave him a few tips, pointed out a few spots where he could add a word or two to make the first verse and the second verse more consistent.

He was happy, and he went to work. As we were leaving, he beckoned me over and showed me what he had added, and asked for help coming up with a word. I helped him rearrange a few words, so that instead of finding a word, based solely on the fact that it rhymed, he could find a word that fit the sentence, and we moved the two rhyming words around so they both were at the ends of the line.

He was happy and offered to put my name on the song along with his.

As I walked away, I kind of shrugged that off. This was clearly not the type of song, the style of poetry that I write, nor even the genre of music that I enjoy.

But as I thought about it, I came to a few conclusions.

First, it was flattering to be asked an opinion and then see the askee actually take my suggestions seriously enough that he would change his song based on my recommendation.

How often do we give our opinions in life only to have them ignored. Even when someone asks our opinion, more often than not it seems like they are only looking for a confirmation of their own opinion, and if ours differs then they want to argue or ignore us.

Second, It was fun to see my own experience and work with writing be able to be put to use in helping someone. I don't have a degree, I'm just an average blue collar kind of guy, and it isn't often that I can take something I have learned over the years and pass it on to someone else and have it help them. It was rewarding to be able to do that. I don't get that opportunity as much as I would like.

Third, It was just genuinely refreshing to see someone of that generation not only have confidence in themselves, but actually proactively be working on whatever goal or project they have in mind.

Too often in the last year or so, I have watched as one particular member of that generation wouldn't try anything new, because he was sure he would fail, wouldn't set goals because it was too depressing when he didn't reach them, and basically sat on his butt waiting for someone to do everything for him.

It was so nice to see two guys working toward their goal, asking for help when they needed it, accepting constructive criticism when it was given, acting on that criticism, and then, extending an offer to share the credit for the end result.

Whether the song ever makes it big or not, these are two young men who already are more successful in life than they know. They have developed some skills that far too many of their generation don't have.

I may not like the music, but I admire their style.

Maybe there is hope for the future after all.