Hawaiian Overtures

For better or worse, I've spent sometime  in Hawaii (Kauai). There are some things I've learned that I will secretly share with you.

My macro observation is that Arizona and Kauai share similar major issues. Good jobs are scare. There is little 'sense of community' due to a transient population; too many part-time wealthy people, who remain greedy and isolated; a mostly poor native population, and low wages with no benefits. There is also a certain hedonistic undertone, which perplexes me frankly.
Other then that, there is some humor in all of this:

The residents have recently learned that cilantro is the same as Chinese parsley.

I ran into one "Gandhi wanna be" who drove a Lexus. I am sure there are more. Go figure that mentality!

The residents know which market sells poi on which days.

No matter how you slice it: Poi is still Poi, whether I eat it in Hawaii or West Africa. Pass the organic pizza please and do not hold the pepperoni.

I met two guys with Phd's. They were both pretty dumb. Go figure.

Don't confuse the Hanalei Pier with the one in Santa Monica!

The state bird is still the mosquito.

Nude beaches should have signs. And I'll take my camera if I want to!

The words "Awesome, Dude, 'you got it' 'right-on', organic, sustainable", are totally overused. For some, it's their only vocabulary, from what I could ascertain.

Everyone is into 'organic and sustainable" living, but few actually know what it entails. Just sounds good in a group of dudes.

Wealthy people from the mainland move to the island and in one week, they are 'healers' or yoga experts. They say, 'that's how we give back to the community'.

They can handle shoyu with green mango, li hing mui gummy bears, raw egg on hot rice, and pearl tea (carnation milk in hot water with sugar) with creme crackers.

The condiments at the table are shoyu, ketchup, chili peppah watah, and kimchee. Also, takuwan, Hawaiian salt, slice onion, and pickle onion.

They go to Maui and their luggage home includes potato chips, manju, cream puffs, and guri guri for omiyage.

A balanced meal has three starches: rice, macaroni, and bread.

They know 101 ways to fix their rubber slippers -- 50 using tape, 50 using glue, and one using a stick to poke the strap back in.

They sometimes use their open car door for a dressing room.

They wear two different color slippers together and they don't mind.

Nice clothes means a T-shirt without puka.

They are barefoot in most of their pictures.

They have a slipper tan.

Their only suit is a bathing suit.

They drive barefoot.

They have at least five Hawaiian bracelets.

They never ever, under any circumstances, wear socks with slippers, or an aloha shirt that matches their wife's muumuu.

They say "I going go for lawnmower da grass" when they mean "I'm going to mow the lawn."

Someone in the family named Boy, Tita, Bruddah, Sonny, Bachan, Taitai, Popo, or Vovo.

They still chant "Hanaokolele" when a friend or co-worker goofs up.

They say "Shtraight," "Shtreet," and "Shtress."

The "Shaka" and the "Stink Eye" are worth a thousand words.

They let other cars ahead of them on the road and they give shaka to everyone who lets them in. (And get mad if someone they let in doesn't say thanks.)

They park junk cars on their lawns and for some reason, watch Television in their garage.

Their philosophy is "Bumbai."

They would rather drag out the compressor and fill that leaking tire every single morning than have it fixed.

The only time they honk their horn is once a year during the safety check.

Owns two types of slippers: da "good slippas" and da "buss-up/stay home slippas."

The resident do not understand the concept of North, South, East, and West, but instead gives directions such as Mile Marker 7, The Safeway, turn off to the lighthouse, and uses landmarks instead of street names.

They take off their slippahs before going into the house.

When it's done, they say "pau!"

They would rather drive an 'island cruiser' then a Mercedes Benz.

When the 'surf is up' nobody goes to work.

There are only two sports: surfing and Frisbee.

AHI Tuna shows up in just about everything you eat

Business meeting never happen on time

The Hawaiian handshake is way too complicated

You need to take at least two showers a day

The pay stinks, but they offer you a plantation shack for 50% off

There is no such thing as a IRS W-2. It's either 1099 or under-the-table.

Forget about any employer-sponsored health insurance or 401K

There is an overabundance of 'meta-physical' types who look at you strangely.

As on the mainland, a business 'handshake' is by no means a 'contract'

Too many people who relo want to look like Gandhi.

If I get one more picture of an isolated beach, I will need to send pics of isolated desert.

For as long as you live there, you are forced to drive on one road, and one road only. And it 'dead-ends' at both ends.

Other then that, in Kauai, the weather is great, the men are good-looking, the women are smart, and all the kids are above average. What else could you ask for?

A Very Bad Year for Your Wallet: This Year!

Bad weather and global instability are spurring price hikes for everything from cotton to oil.

The worrisome economic news just keeps on coming. Inflation is creeping higher, as prices rise for everything from corn to coffee. The government's Consumer Price Index — a standard measure of how much household goods and services cost — rose 0.4 percent in each of the last two months, the first back-to-back increases that big since the summer of 2008. Now, forecasters say global weather problems and instability in the Middle East could make crude oil, cotton, and other important commodities even more expensive. Here are four ways you may be affected:

Clothing
Clothing prices, after falling for a decade, are expected to rise about 10 percent this spring, according to the Associated Press. The price of cotton has already more than doubled over the past year. Your cotton underwear will definitely get tighter!

Fuel
Crude oil prices recently hit a two-year high, as unrest in the Middle East, particularly Libya, fed investor worry about oil production. Gas prices have risen 20 percent over the last year, and could go even higher. Even a Preus won't help the ache on this one. Try a walking-stick.

Food
The cost of staples such as wheat, corn, and sugar has jumped dramatically in recent months, largely because of droughts, floods, and rising demand. Now's the time to plant that Kale and Collards!

Household essentials
Rising fuel and ingredient costs will also translate to higher prices for items such as toothpaste, soap, and batteries. Shower once each week, don't brush your teeth everyday, and don't use anything with a battery.

And that's all the good news fit to print!

Just How FAR Down the Road is This?

Since President Obama's election, the Republican party has gained support across all age groups, says a recent Pew poll, with a 5 percent to 6 percent jump among baby boomers, Generation X, Millennials, and Civil War Veterans.

Mr Toyoda goes to Six Flags...

The President of Toyota today, was driving from New York's Kennedy Airport, to the US Congressional Committee hearings in Washington D.C. However, he ended up in Richmond, Virginia. Reason he said: "the car wouldn't stop".

Musing About this Week...

The Governor of California says that aside from the beverage tax, he will now impose a pizza tax, by the slice. So... if you order a pizza, don't have them cut it. Ahead of the curve, as usual!

My Italians...

My maternal grandfather Dominic, split his time between brick laying and wine making. The latter was his passion. The former his need. My paternal grandfather, Rocco, was an anthracite coal miner, who probably had little time for wine making. They both made babies on a regular basis. It was either the wine or the loneliness of coal. Perhaps both. More then not, it was probably more the beauty of my grandmothers, Concetta and Anna.

The Doctor J Syndrome...

I was working with a group in Washington DC awhile back. There was one partner with this company, that I fully remember. His name was Jae (initials for his first and last name). He had a PhD in something non-consequential, and was a former Air Force officer. But...it was a PhD nonetheless.

He drove around Washington in a new Mercedes and had one of those ego-license plates.
His was "Dr Jae". Now, I recall Julius Erving of the Philly Sixers. That was Dr J. Who was this other "Dr Jae", I thought? Could he go for the dunk? Could he dribble past Wally Jones? What was this all about?

My funny-bone went out a bit when I saw the license plate of Dr Jae. More power to him.

Here's a white guy, with a PhD, in a suit, driving around D.C. in a Mercedes with the Dr. Jae plates. I just bet that at many a red light, he had to put his 'foot to the metal' just to get out of the way of a few Washingtonians who knew the difference between Dr. J and Dr. Jae. The latter could not dribble a basketball, I am sure, and the former did not have a PhD in anything but 'street ball'.

So... when you drive around D.C. and see the plates of a Dr. JAE, don't ask him to go 'one on one'. He won't know what you are talking about.

Where's the Tooth Fairy When You Need Him?

In a different time and far away place, I believed in the 'tooth fairy'. I did! He was my personalized Santa Claus without the fanfare.

When it was time for that little tooth to go, it would easily just fall out. I'd catch it and place it under the pillow at night. In the morning there would be a crisp one dollar bill right there, where the tooth had been. I think I did that about 30 times or so. I wasn't afraid because I knew then when one tooth fell out, another would magically take its place. It went on for a few years. Tooth out...cash in!

I went to the dentist last week. He said 'that tooth has got to go'. Instantly, I thought back to the 'tooth fairy'. This time however, it was not as easy as the first time. No little prodding to remove the little tooth. This time it was more serious. It was a big tooth. And this time, it hurt. The fact is, no tooth would grow back magically this time. It would need to be an 'implant'. Ouch!

So I sat back in the chair as the local anesthesia took its toll. I heard the pulling and the cracking. Finally, the tooth came out. A proud dentist exhibits the forlorn and lonely tooth. "Do you want take it with you", he states.

Thinking once again back to that early tooth, I decide that it's a good idea, to take a tooth that has been around that long, has no further useful life; take it home and place it gently under the pillow. So I did just that.

The tooth sat there below that pillow for a few days, wrapped in paper, waiting for the tooth fairy to magically appear and leave behind a crisp dollar bill.

Days went by. Finally, one morning I awoke and there under the pillow was an envelop with my name on it. I anxiously opened the envelop hoping to find that prize from the tooth fairy. And there it was. A bill for $175. from my dentist.

So, remember that the tooth fairy is on your side only when you are young, and you only can ask once for that reward for that tooth. When you grow older, the tooth fairy has little regard for your fantasy. As in most things in life,you only get one chance... with one tooth. The reality is just a bill from your dentist, and a yawn from the tooth fairy.

The tongue that concedes will not wear out; obstinate teeth fall out

Chinese Proverb

I Know That I'm No Writer. I Can Prove It

Now, I know I have this bloggy-thinger going. That doesn't mean that I can write. I know that. One teacher in college told me 'you write good' (not her exact words), and should apply that to your future thoughts. And so I did. The results, as you will see, were less then stellar.

While in college, I went to work for a number of organizations as a 'writer'.

1) TV Guide Magazine -- I was hired as a 'promotional writer'. What that means is that you write copy for those little 'lap cards' that fall out of magazines when you open them. Yep, that was me. I was fired. Christmas Eve I recall.

2) Bofinger-Kaplan Advertising (no longer around) -- I was hired as a copywriter for this ad agency. My job? Naming paints. The color swatches would come across my desk, and I had to come up with names. You see them all the time at HomeDepot.
Fantasia Yellow, Caboose Red, Green Tea Green. This is a tough job if you are color blind. I am not. I was fired.

3) Union Fidelity Insurance (no longer around) -- This was one of those direct-mail insurance companies. You know, pay premiums for two years before benefits and no physical exam. I wrote copy for their direct mail pieces. What do you tell an 87 year old woman, who has to pay premiums for two years, before she is covered? Hang in there? I was fired.

4) Rodale Press (finally a company that's still around) -- I was hired again to write promotional copy for Organic magazines. This job was a 60+mile trip one-way. 120 miles per day, five days per week is not exactly 'organic'. Nor was I.
I was fired.

Thus, at an early age I realized (or someone did it for me) that I was indeed, not a writer. I had visions at one time of Ernest Hemingway. But no, I was never to be that. I couldn't even put names to paint colors. Instead, I would like to consider myself a 'humorist'. Nice term.

A humorist is a person who writes or performs humorous material. The material written and/or performed by humorists tends to be more subtle and cerebral than the material created by stand-up comedians and comedy writers. The intention is often to provoke wry smiles and amusement rather than outright belly laughs.

My family members probably would say there's an oxymoron there between me (the person) and me (the humorist). Nevertheless, if I can't be a Hemingway, I can at least attempt to be Ambrose Bierce, Yogi Bear, James Thurber, or Dr Seuss. Ogden Nash and Frank Zappa also comes to mind.

I will assume that most who read this will say that I am indeed not a writer. Some will say 'nor a humorist'. I don't mind. You can't fire me. And that's the great stuff of a blogger.

As Garrison Keillor noted:
"That's the news from Lake Woebegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.". Even if you think I am a writer. Which I am not.

My Home: The Skating Rink

I live in a house that has no rugs on the floors and no floor tile. The entire flooring is concrete. End-to-end. Add to that the fact that there are no steps, and the hallways are twice as wide as the normal home.

When we purchased the home, we thought that it was great for wheelchair access, if we ever needed it. My grandchildren thought otherwise. They had a very different mind-set on utilization of this space. Wheelchair access be damned. This was the perfect skating rink.

The main rink was the living room and 'extreme' skating occurred in the hallways, bedrooms, and bath. You could open all the doors (interior/exterior) and fly through the air from outside to inside and back out again.

All it needed was a little waltz music with thundering bass, and they could have been in Rockefeller Center on ice.

Whether I liked it or not, Roller Derby finally came to our house. Four or five kids on skates doing spins on the living room floor, then darting in and out of the bedrooms. Someone hiding in the closet, only to be found in a game of 'roller tag'.

It's not exactly what I envisioned in this home. When those kids arrive, it's as if the entire world of the home is transformed into that skating rink. And when they finally depart from the visit, the house reverts back almost instantaneously into a space that can accommodate a wheelchair. Not that I need one. I don't. And that's the rub. I don't now look at the home as 'wheelchair accessible'. Rather, I look at it as a place where these 'little people' can skate around their grandparents. Play tag, roller-derby, or double spin. Or hide in the closet.

These episodes offer new vision to 'graying hair' and bald spots. Instead of simply looking at the home as 'wheelchair accessible' I now see it as a roller skating sports complex. And the latter is so much better then the former in my mind.

Bingo As Serious As World Peace in This Group

I decided to take my mother on her twice weekly trip to the senior center this week.

My intent was to see that she was in a positive and productive environment. On the other hand, I was looking to see what my world might be like a few years from now. From softball to Bingo, I thought. All in the blink of an eye.

Bingo, as I recall the game, was mostly 'laid back'. The cousin of Keno, but not so confusing. Simply place your chit on the numbers as they are called. So, I decided to sit and play-the-game with my mom and a group of her friends. They were all mature people in their 80's. Well-dressed, friendly and social. So I thought. Until the game began.

When the game started, each of those ladies would have up to 20 cards in front of them. My mom had two. She was definitely in the minority. The first number rang out: B-22. A hush feel over the auditorium. Next: N-16. Again, scrambling fingers and hands are all you could hear. I-3 rang out. More shuffling. B-16. You could feel the tension in the air. It was as the 50-yard dash had begun and the wheel chairs and the walkers were of absolutely no concern.

At this point, I attempted to add some humorous statement. Three words came out, and then I got those cross-eyed looks from just about everyone at the table. It was as if 12 mothers had found out that I had skipped school. They were looks that would 'kill'. Another number: I-12. Another hush. Again, I attempted to make a statement. Again, daggers from the group at the table.

I turned to mom and whispered: "what's going on here"? She turned and said: "keep quite. This is serious stuff. There's $25. at stake here, and if you make us miss a number, these ladies won't let me sit here anymore."

And so it continued for the next hour. B-2, G-20, O-14. I was mesmerized by the seriousness of the group. The total lack of wanting to socialize...or talk. They were there to win that $25. at Bingo, and you had better not get in their way.

There was no concern for political discussion, social input, news-of-the-day. Darwinist Bingo. Win or die! I could envision little old ladies being thrown over the table or landing a punch to someone. No wimps here.

I was glad when that day was over. I was exhausted! At the end of the games, everyone reverted back to their nice, social, and mature selves. Talking about how good the lunch of pot-roast was, and how nice it was to see everyone enjoying themselves.

At the end of the day, everyone said good-bye and 'we will see you tomorrow'! The wheel chairs and the walkers started to roll out the door in single file.

I now had a better understanding and appreciation for the game of Bingo. It raises the adrenalin level in this group. It's like younger people playing touch football. It's competition. In your face gamesmenship, taking no prisoners. Winning. $25. worth. I guess when you are in your 80's pomp and circumstance don't concern you anymore. I think you get that old by not being 'old'. Going for the 'gold' of $25., and determined not to let anyone get in your way, wheelchair or not.

I took my mom home, and went home myself. As I walked through the front door, I went to the television remote, channel-surfing. Looking for the Bingo Channel. There isn't any. But if there was, we'd have a whole bunch of old ladies fighting for the remote control and telling me to 'shut up' or die, while the numbers are called.

My Trip to The Grammy Awards...Not too long ago..

In 1981, New York City. Radio City Music Hall. I was there. Paul Simon was the host.

I was dressed in a tux, and my wife was looking beautiful. Yes, we attended as invitees. I had been booking music talent in New Jersey for over five years. Probably 20 concerts a year. Lots of well-knowns and not-so, at the time.

We had a limo with a sun-roof. Along the way, we put our heads out of that sun-roof, along Broadway...and just yelled a bit. We had dinner in a great restaurant. The Rainbow Room atop Rockefeller Center. What a night!

The limo driver said, 'remember the license plate number so you can find me after the awards'. I said 'gee, it's a black stretch limo. There can't be many of those around'

Coming from the awards, now looking for the limo. Fact was, there were at least 50 of those 'black stretch limos' parked outside of Radio City Music Hall. It took us 30 minutes to find ours. Nevertheless, for once, and for one brief shinning moment, we had a few minutes of positive fame and fun. Riding in a limo to attend the Grammy Awards in New York City. Have not done it since. Probably never will again.

Rationale: Enjoy the moment. It generally comes once. Embrace it. Hug it. Remember it. No one else will.

"And Here's to you Mrs Robinson. Jesus loves you more then you will know."

And...now I know. Thanks to Paul Simon.

Cowboys Debunked ...

I must admit that I grew up in an age of Western heroes: John Wayne, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers. Sitting in my living room on the East Coast and watching these heroes was a good part of my youth. They would always ride off into the sunset with the prettiest woman, and the bad guys never got away with anything. They were iconic. Supermen in a world far beyond my bedroom.

I noticed the environment from John Ford on. Monument Valley and the Desert...long, vast, brown. As I matured I looked further into this geographic setting. After moving to Arizona 15 years ago, I found that there are four deserts out there:
The Mojave -- The California part (Joshua Trees)
The Great Basin -- Everything 'high' like Las Vegas north
The Sonoran -- Arizona into Mexico
The Chihuahuan -- Most of Western Texas

So, why did I see Saguaro cacti in all these movies, even if the location didn't appear to be Arizona? What I found is that aside from John Ford movies most filmed in Monument Valley, Arizona, the films were all made in the Mojave desert, close to Los Angeles. If the Director of the film needed a real Western flair with Saguaro's, they would just use them as props behind a scenery that was most certainly not Sonoran, but Mojave, where Saguaro do not grow. Joshua Trees do not grow in the Sonoran, to begin with. This was Palm Springs, not Tombstone.
No Dodge City here.

That, in turn, gave me thought as to what really was this 'cowboy' stuff all about.
If John Wayne said he was in Tucson or Tombstone, was he really there? Or was he just outside Palm Springs on a 'horse with no name'. Worse yet, on a soundstage in Burbank?

The final dagger came a few years after moving to Arizona: My childhood cowboy heroes, not only did not do many films in the Sonoran desert, they didn't even live there. It was all part of the American mystic. It was Hollywood reaching out to us.

John, Roy, and Gene all lived in Los Angeles. They lived in Newport Beach, California on the ocean. Ocean-front. How can you be a cowboy in Newport Beach?
"Where do I park this horse, pilgrim", John Wayne would often say.

And so, childhood dreams face the reality that Western cowboys, for the most part, are probably mythical characters made up in a writer's mind somewhere in Los Angeles.
Those that took it all at face-value, like me, will just have to suffer through the thought that my childhood heroes were never real, never really there, and never really rode off into the sunset. Unless there was a 'boulevard' attached!

Rather, they played the scene, completed it, and got in a limo to somewhere on Sunset Boulevard. And none of them, I can assure you, died with their boots on.

Most likely patent leather Gucci shoes.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore”

Historically, I attempt to look at myself as a person of many talents. Some would say 'non talents'. Nevertheless, there has been one challenge that I seem never to be able to overcome. That is 'opening a pizza'.

Originally, I had a problem understanding what that term actually meant. So, I decided to find out and conquer the task. Quite simply, 'opening a pizza' means taking the raw pizza dough and getting it to fit into the pizza pan. Sounds easy.

When I first started I would simply roll the dough out with a rolling pin, and presto...I had a pizza. No drama. Lack of flair! No theatrics. Just a plain 'brown wrapper' pizza.

But you know, I went to New York and saw people throwing the dough in the air as they made circular hand motions. They'd toss that dough five feet in the air, and it would magically just roll and roll and roll until they had a perfectly round pizza. It was amazing.

I said to myself,'now that's the way to open a pizza!' Some expertise with lots of drama was needed. Family members and Customers would applaud! They would consider me an expert. They would recognize my talent. I would be famous. I'd have my own tv show. Forget this rolling pin tactic. There's no drama in that. No expertise required.

I was committed to the dramatic effect of throwing the pizza dough five feet in the air, and coming up with a perfectly round 16" pizza when I was done. Everytime. All the time!

As you might imagine this type of 'opening the pizza' takes skill...and time, and a few lost in space pizzas. The first few times I tried it (when no one was around), the dough hit the ceiling and it did not return. It looked somewhat lonesome hanging from the ceiling, bits and pieces dripping on my head. Then, the next few times I would throw it in the air, and catch it right in the middle of the dough. That didn't work very well either. My hand went right through the dough. I was making a pizza, not donuts!

Finally, I got the hang of it so to speak. I would now spin the dough from the circumference (the outside) and when I tossed it, I did not catch it in the middle. I moved off center by a few degrees. Now I also recognized that I need to use TWO hands in the toss, not one. That makes a big difference.

Today, I can spin the dough and open the pizza with the best of them. I can entertain. I can add drama. I have FLAIR! No more rolling pin (how gauche). I can even sing as I toss. I can toss with one hand or both. I'm the "king of pizza" in our house. There is no competition, no proposals, no conference calls, no politics. Just me and the pizza dough.

And the only thing that gets 'fired' is the brick oven. It's a breath of fresh air, when I take that dough and spin it to 'high heaven'.

“Yogi Berra ordered a pizza. The waitress asked How many pieces do you want your pie cut? Yogi responded, Four. I don't think I could eat eight.”

And my friends, That is 'amore'!

WHATDA? Humans That Warm Your Hotel Bed

USA Today:
As England endures an unusually harsh winter, Holiday Inn has cooked up an intriguing way to keep customers comfortable: human bedwarmers.

As a complementary service, select hotel locations will send a staffer dressed in a body-length fleece suit to roll around in your sheets for five minutes.

As hotel spokesperson Jane Bednall tells Sky News, it's like "having a giant hot water bottle in your bed." Agreed, but will watching a stranger writhe about in your bed actually help anyone get a good night's sleep?

The first question I have is "Am I in the room at the time?"
The second question is "What does the human bedwarmer look like?"
And... "Is it male or female"?
Do I need to order dinner?
Can I request a specific person?
Do I still get the chocolate on my pillow?

And whatever happened to the bedwarmer you just plug into the electrical outlet?

The Strange "News" is Out There...

Over the past week, I've found some 'strange news' that is either controversial, silly, or just wrong. I'm sure there is more, but I guess time is better spent on better things. Here's some 'happenings':

1)Controversy raging over Don Lewis' plans to launch all-white basketball league.The promoter claims the NBA has devolved into "street ball"

2) New research finds women out-learning — and out-earning — their husbands. Bring on the 'male gold diggers'?

3) Roll out the (grimy) red carpet: Based on clean rankings by travelers @ TripAdvisor San Francisco's Heritage Marina Hotel crowned as the dirtiest in US

4)Divorce in a recession: Nobody wants the house!

5) Who owns Wall St? A drop in financial shares pounded the stock market after President Obama proposed greater restrictions on big banks. Dow -213!

6) United Nations officials in Haiti and other observers say the foreign media is sensationalizing the earthquake aftermath to boost ratings

7) Director James Cameron is facing multiple charges that he "plagiarized" the plot of his blockbuster "Avatar."

That $250. Fed Stimulus check?

Just in Case You are a Senior and Get a Check for $250...
By end of this year, you senior members of the US community will again receive an Economic Stimulus payment. This is a very exciting program.

I'll explain it using the Q and A format:

Q. What is an Economic Stimulus payment?
A. It is money that the federal government will send to taxpayers.
Q. Where will the government get this money?
A. From taxpayers..
Q. So the government is giving me back my own money?
A. Only a smidgen.
Q. What is the purpose of this payment?
A. The plan is for you to use the money to purchase a high-definition TV set, thus stimulating the economy.
Q. But isn't that stimulating the economy of Asia ?
A. Shut up or you don't get your check.


Below is some helpful advice on how to best help the US economy by spending your stimulus check wisely:

1. If you spend the stimulus money at Wal-Mart, your money will go to China .
2. If you spend it on gasoline, your money will go to Saudi Arabia .
3. If you purchase a computer, it will go to India .
4. If you purchase fruit and vegetables, it will go to Mexico, Honduras or Guatemala .
5. If you buy a car, it will go to Japan or Korea .
6. If you purchase useless plastic stuff, it will go to Taiwan .
7. If you pay off your credit cards, or buy stock, it will go to pay management bonuses and be hidden in offshore accounts.

Or, you can keep the money in America by:
1. spending it at yard sales or flea markets, or
2. going to baseball or football games, or
3. hiring prostitutes, or
4. buying cheap beer or
5. getting tattoos.
These are the only wholly-American- owned businesses still operating in the US .


Conclusion:
The best way to stimulate the economy is to go to a ball game with a prostitute that you met at a yard sale and drink beer all day until you're drunk enough to go get tattooed.

Goodbye $5.00 Coffee...and Hello....

Goodbye $5 coffee.So long, gourmet supermarket food, $3,000 handbags and McMansions. Adios, expensive shows and gambling tables in Las Vegas. Downsizing Starbucks, Whole Foods, Big-time Las Vegas Hotels, and Toll Brothers home builders.

Hello to the new frugality. Dinner at McDonalds (and coffee too). The new American reality, that seems to have some 'legs' to it. Job losses, job cuts, hours gone, upside down housing, cars that are way too expensive, electric bills that are out of sight, and the new reality of it all: we are going to definitely pay higher taxes just to keep government running. In Phoenix a tax on ALL food items, for example.

Checked your mortgage payment notice lately? How about that escrow account. Up at least $5.00 per month. Cable TV? Up at least $5.00 per month. Electric? Up at least $5.00 per month. That cheap chicken at .99cents per pound? Gone! Credit card interest rates? And they 'sneak it in on you'. Just add it to your bill. You get the picture.

Just these few additions add up to probably about $60.00+ per month on things you already use.

And don't bet the ranch on stocks either from Starbucks, MGM, Whole Foods, or Toll Brothers. Those stocks are about at their peak. In the $20. range, and will stay that way for a long time to come.

The fact is that everyone is squeezing the consumer, when the consumer can't be squeezed any longer. Something has got to give, if it already hasn't.

Personally, the only 'bill' I have is the house mortgage, and that is difficult to take, since the home is worth less then the mortgage. If I could rid myself of the home, and buy a Class "A" RV, I could forgo all of this. I could cancel all my credit cards, move away from social networking, and finding new clients and opportunities, and just drive off into the sunset. Nay. I'd have to pay for overpriced gasoline, overpriced repairs and overpriced insurance. And I would be forced to visit my mother-in-law.

Have a good one!

Thomas Gets Tanked...

I can't state emphatically that I watch "Thomas The Tank Engine" on a regular basis. However, I do have my days. I also never thought of Thomas as conformist or sexist. After all, Thomas is a train engine. Nevertheless, only about 18% of the characters presumably are female, and only one is the head of something.

A Canadian professor has been flooded with angry e-mails from parents after publishing a study saying that the popular children's TV show featuring Thomas the Tank Engine teaches children to be conformist -- and sexist. University of Alberta political scientist Shauna Wilton says she recognizes that Thomas—who works on the railway on the fictional island of Sodor—also stresses positive themes, such as trust, honesty, and hard work, but she notes that only eight of the 49 main characters in the current Thomas shows are female. Only one, Emily, is among the core team of steam engines—and she didn't show up until the TV series' seventh season. Is Thomas the Tank Engine sexist?

On a real railroad, the majority of workers are male anyway. I checked with the Southern Pacific and Union Pacific Railroads on this topic. Less then 10% of their workers are female that actually work on the trains. Thomas, on the other hand, has around 18% who are female. You go Thomas!

In the original Railway Series, Thomas is generally depicted with a cheeky and even self-important personality. He believes that he should be more respected by the others, and he gets annoyed when he does not receive this respect. Well, I can surely identify with that, and have no disagreement.

Thomas strikes me as a loner frankly. A myopic sense of 'right and wrong', and if he gets laid off from the job, there's not much else he can do with the expertise. After all, he's a train engine. Life would certainly be lonely.

"I'm afraid that sometimes you'll play lonely games too. Games you can't win 'cause you'll play against you."

So, let's put it all in perspective when raising critical statements about issues that have no resolution. Let's not play games by ourselves. Second guessing our abilities. We'd lose every time.

"So be sure when you step, step with care and great tact and remember that life is a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left."

The TSA Incompetence Rule...

Though the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) quickly devised more strenuous airport security procedures after the failed terrorist attack on Flight 253,the memo outlining its changes was leaked to two travel bloggers who published it.

Soon after Steven Frischling and Chris Elliott published the memo on their respective websites, TSA officials went to the bloggers' houses, issued them subpoenas, and attempted to confiscate their computers to track the leak back to its source.

Late last week, however, the TSA withdrew both subpoenas, saying that legal action was "no longer necessary".

The TSA's actions are a 'disgrace': Bullying bloggers with threats of imprisonment for informing the public about something we "should have been told [about] immediately" is "asinine and offensive," says Henry Blodget at The Business Insider. Before the TSA engaged in this "bizarre behavior," its claims that it had no clear forewarning of the attack seemed credible. Now, however, it seems that "the cause of this near-tragedy" was more likely "incompetence."