Parental Guidance

Off from work today, celebrating my dad's 80th birthday. Yeah, he's slowed down a little bit through the years, but if I'm still going at 80 like my dad is, I'll take it. My parents are here for six days and not one of those days has this on the itinerary: "Hang out. Do nothing". It's go time, all the time.

I think of this whenever I hear or read the latest warnings about food, drink, medicine, air quality, water quality, etc. Instead of using the "Study of the Week" as a guide to how to live my life, maybe I should look to what my parents have done. Sure, they've had their share of health scares, but no one runs clean and lean start to finish. So, if I'm to take my parents' example to live a longer, happier life I'd:

1) Work at a job I enjoy. Check

2) Retire early. The memory of the joy my parents had when the governor of Wisconsin passed a bill making retirement possible at 55 years of age stands strong to this day. They've been retired for 20+ years and don't seem to miss what they did (both teachers). In fact, from the war stories they get from colleagues still in the trenches, they believe it was the best move they ever made. Besides having a third child, of course. My dad mentioned to me last night that based on pensions and investments, they make more now not working than when they were employed. We should all be so lucky.

3) Travel. They don't take long trips, but there isn't a month that goes by where they're not on the road or in the air. My last vacation that was just me and Pumpkin was in May of 2008. Trips home are nice, but I'm not sure if "vacation" can be used as a label, certainly not when I can hear my dad snoring from down the hall

3a) Stay cheap. Comfort Inns and Holiday Inn Express are just fine, thanks

3c) Stay near a casino. After all, what fun is life without a little gambling? And what's more fun that holding a pair and drawing to a four-of-a-kind? Not one thing.

4) Drink. I don't think a day has passed(other than during illnesses or surgeries, and even then...) that I can remember my parents not having a cocktail or two. Mom: martinis (gin & vermouth, not the pussy kinds that populate the landscape these days) Dad: Beer, and the occasional Rusty Nail (scotch and drambuie) when he's feeling frisky. Every damn day. I remember one time when we went back for a few days, we went out for a fish fry and Pumpkin and I went to the hostess stand to get seated, not realizing my parents had grabbed a couple of chairs at the bar. I asked why they didn't want to go right to the table and my mom, shocked look on her face, said it was "unheard of" not to sit at the bar for a bubble or two before dinner. Not being ones to breach etiquette, Pumpkin and I took seats at the bar and quaffed.

Those are my parents' four basic principles to happiness. Yes, they had kids but I think their happiest years have been after we all got the hell out of the house. So, if the lesson to be learned from that is don't have kids, I can check that box as well.

Debtors And Predators

My credit card bill this month was 10 pages.

Ten.

I don't mind telling the balance: $189. I wrote a check for the amount ($200, actually. Easier to subtract) and sent it away. No worries. Very simple, actually.

The supposed difficulty most seem to have with paying their credit card balance in full seems to be the reason for the inordinately high number or trees that had to die for my bill to be sent out. When I picked it up out of the mailbox, I was struck but the envelope's thickness and didn't really know what to expect. I wish I would've saved it to go over page by page here but really, 1) I have so many better things to do, and 2) next month's may have even more pages. I guess that's if people fail to grasp the basic concepts of interest advanced in the 10-page bill. So much for the concept of the "predatory" credit card companies. predators don't explain their intentions in such exhausting detail.

On page one of the bill there was this example: my amount ($189), the minimum payment ($15) and how long it would take me with my card's interest rate (Really, I don't know. 17%, maybe) to pay off my amount ($189) by only paying the minimum payment ($15) each month. Grand total: 14 months. It was literally spelled out for me.

When I showed this to Pumpkin, she wondered what a co-worker's bill would look like. Her co-worker has 20k in credit card debt. I asked if it was due to student loans, maybe a car. "Nope, just stuff". 20k worth of stuff. I asked Pumpkin if this co-worker was concerned about this amount and she just shrugged and said "doesn't seem to be". My stomach hurt when I heard the amount, and I don't even know this person. Just like how we can do a nice gesture for a total stranger, then the next minute snap unnecessarily at the one person closest to us, sometimes we care more about helping those of us we don't know than those of us that we do.

I can understand how some people might run up debt, but only if that matter is related to a medical condition. Then again, Pumpkin had surgery 14 months ago that required her to pay $8,000 out of pocket while insurance covered the rest. She makes less than me. She asked her parents for nothing (but would have accepted had they offered), and turned down similar requests for help from me. She arranged with the providers a reasonable payment schedule and everything is now paid off. No debt. Ok, so I guess I don't understand how people can might run up debt. Certainly not 20k on "stuff"

I've got more to say on the matter but I have a 14-page phone bill to look over, so it'll have to wait for another time

Tax Relief, Not Haiti Relief

Death. Squalor. Crime. Desperation. Yep. That's Haiti. And then the earthquake hit.

I'll admit that I've given money for Haiti relief but I only did that so I could take a charitable deduction. I don't have any belief that my money actually helps. Haiti was the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere before all the mud huts collapsed, but to hear coverage of the story, it's being made to seem like it's Palm Beach under siege. Haiti isn't/wasn't Palm Beach. Hell, it's not even West Palm Beach. It's poverty on a level we can't comprehend, especially if your biggest problem is that your little Emily can't take oboe lessons at school any more because of budget cuts.

I would rather give to help animals than to help people. I just think that the more you hand over to people the more they're going to screw it up, and the more likely that corruption will result. I feel much better dropping off several bags of Science Diet to the ASPCA than I ever will cutting a check to Doctors Without Borders or anything championed by Bill Clinton. Dogs and cats can't help themselves (ok, maybe cats can) and my money spent there makes me think I'm actually doing some good. After all, Haiti's pre-earthquake situation can only be blamed on the people we're giving money too. Ain't that somethin'?

NOTE: After seeing the new version of "We Are The World" (performed for Haiti "relief") I'm considering asking for my donation back

Done With It, Not Over It

So I'm at a party for a friend last weekend. I like heading out to birthday parties these days as much as I like a good cystoscopy (look it up), but he's a good friend, so Pumpkin and I ventured out. I knew from seeing the guest list that a lot of former co-workers would be in attendance. For this reason alone, I dreaded the whole affair.

See, I knew all I'd hear from them is how much the old place made a mistake when they let me go, how they don't like the new show at all, etc, etc. I know that sounds arrogant but it turned out to be 100 percent true. Not only that, friends of the guest of honor also volunteered the same opinion. I used to like hearing stuff like that, but now that it's been over two years since my dismissal I'd rather hear "what are you doing these days?" than anything else. Them not knowing what happened to me is much preferred over rehashing what did happen to me. In spite of have three delicious, refreshing Michelob Ultras, I left the party depressed.

When I watch shows like "Intervention", I'm always struck by the number of times that the protagonist goes into rehab, comes out clean, then falls flat on his/her face soon after their release. The simple fact is that they go back to seeing and associating with all the triggers that got them into trouble in the first place. In order to truly come clean, they need to make a complete break from the old life that brought them to where they are now. Such, it seems, is now my case with radio.

While I like hearing that I'm missed, it doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, with time it only makes me feel worse. Perhaps the only way to fix this is a fresh start in a new place. Certainly, Pumpkin wouldn't be against it. I'd have some friends that I'd dearly miss, but eventual long-term happiness might best be served by movin' on down the road. The only that's holding me back from a more aggressive relocation pursuit is the Las Vegas real estate market. To move now would be like selling an investment you know will grow more over time. But is the greater profit worth even greater misery?

In the meantime, the only solution seems to be this: drink alone.

Please Stand By

Like a musical artist who has a ton of demo recordings stored somewhere, I've got so much stuff rattling around my head I just have to get it out. It's coming. Believe me, it's coming.

Then again, when those long-lost demos get released it becomes clearly apparent why they were never released in the first place, so maybe it's best to stay quiet.

Nah. New entry by week's end, I promise

Cleaning the Attic III

I should really be at the gym. 30 minutes on the treadmill. Maybe 45. Instead, I'm looking at what appears to be an intoxicated Harry Connick warbling "Close to You" on the Ellen show, with the rabble lapping it up. I'm now to the point where I risk more injury by going to the gym and lifting a weight than by staying and home and lifting the remote. It's been awhile since I've done this so please pardon me while I serve up there innocuous observations;

To the argument that their can be no good news reported without a steaming pile of feces being dumped upon it: GOOD NEWS: Burglaries are down nationwide, by double digits in some areas. BAD NEWS: "They" surmise it's because there are more jobless, and these jobless are staying home. Thus, it's less tempting to the burglar. Why, then, would those of us with jobs want the recession to end? I'm not going to want to be held responsible for supporting a nationwide crime wave.

I'm not sure what product they're advertising, but there's a spot that focuses on a family called the Buttertons. Clever. They're presented in black and white, "Leave it To Beaver" -style. The woman does all the cooking and does so with (gasp) real butter, oils, and ungodly amounts of fat. The problem is that the Buttertons have a normal body weight. Mom, Dad and son look like they all have normal BMIs, in spite of the fact they're consuming lethal amounts of dairy. In contrast, the people (filmed in color) who are using the advertised product are slightly overweight. I don't think the point of a commercial is to get you to use the exact opposite of the product that's being advertised, so in this case I have to salute the makers of the ad for getting it so wrong. Pity that I can't remember the products, which also is a sign of how ineffective the spot is.

My dog loves Golden Grahams cereal.

As soon as we stop treating schools and the military like social experiments, we'll be much better off. Both are jobs, places of employment. Are far as schools go, let's just hear that kids (no, not yours. Yours are brilliant) aren't as smart as they used to be and move on. That would be my first statement as superintendent.

I don't understand the phrase "help people help themselves". Is that even possible?

Heard from a guy today who was griping that Las Vegas' growth should be curtailed. Interestingly enough, the gentleman lived on Flamingo and Hualapai, in a comfortable home that's four years that only exists because of the expansion he despises. Hypocrites tend to skew older.

Safeway's generic diet cola is just as good, if not better, than Diet Pepsi or Diet Coke, and it's half the price.

Read an article yesterday about how new talk shows by George Lopez and Wanda Sykes are playing to an "underserved" television audience. Latinos and blacks can't be entertained by anyone other than their own kind? The Caucasian of European descent is the only one who's not allowed to show pride in his heritage, just as the American who shows pride in his country is simply labled as a gun-loving redneck, while those carrying flags of any other country are seen as "prideful".

Well, this was fun.

Money For Nothing

I recently read that the Clark County School District spends an estimated $12,500 per student. Per student. Test results continue to run below the national average (which isn't all that impressive in its own right) and it's not like the students are getting any smarter. If the school system is equated to the farm system that a baseball organization has, CCSD is destined for futility on par with the Pittsburgh Pirates. No hope is in sight.

I'm not going to go into great detail about why I think that is, but it just goes to show that money doesn't make you smart. You could hand The Man on The Street $100 and you can be sure he's going to do something stupid with it. He may buy food, but that food will probably be a horrendously overpriced dinner at Postrio. Maybe he'll run down to Rose's Den and buy Powerball tickets. Or maybe he'll stay closer to home and play the Megabucks machine- or the 10-teamer that looks like an absolute lock. You get the point. Opportunity wasted, and you can bet on it.

Like anything else, school is something that takes work, and if the principles (students/teachers) don't want to do the work, it's over. From what I've seen in the CCSD, the teachers are equipped and ready to do the work, while the students sit there and form one giant middle finger. I guess on the bright side, we'll never hear about a dearth of fast food workers. Our french fries are safe.

Anyway, I'm awaiting a check from my dad. Both sets of grandparents did a lousy job of taking care of their personal affairs, and my parents both had the power of attorney function. Weeks of headaches led them to the realization that they didn't want to do this to their kids, so as they get on in years they're spreading their assets around. I really don't know if my parents have a ton of money, but one of my dad's cds (certificates of deposit, for you kids dropping by for a read today) is coming due, and he'll throw that money around to the kids, money I'll happily accept. It eases the burden on my parents and fattens up my accounts. Win, meet Win.

The money won't go toward a cruise. Or a new washer/dryer. Or a remodeling of the kitchen cabinets that the wife has been on me for since I moved into the house. It will probably just be spread around to various investments. I'll get the check and spin it off like a monetary hot potato. Ok, maybe we'll go to Outback Steakhouse, but only during Happy Hour for half-priced appetizers.

I know it's boring and won't stimulate the economy, but as long as it leads to a more comfortable hammock in which to lay in the future, I'll happily grade myself an "A" for the effort. Class dismissed.