You may recall the story about actor W.C. Fields, a noted atheist, who was seen by his biographer, Gene Fowler, reading the bible on his death bed. The amazed Fowler questioned him about the reason for his apparent philosophical change.
.
W.C replied he was "looking for loopholes".
In possible similar fashion I have somewhat modified my reading habits..
I am currently reading and struggling with a book entitled "The Story" - The Bible as one continuing story of God and his people.
In my haste to purchase the book for the worldy sum of five bucks, I missed the small print: "Selections from the King James Version." - which to me is a lot like reading unexpurgated Shakespeare.
So far I'm still in the Old Testament and have almost made it through Genesis - I think.
This is the first time I've read a sequential version of the Bible since being required to read word for word both the Old and New Testament during my Freshmen year at Grove City College.
Actually, I'm kind of glad I am (sort of) re-reading the Bible (in cliff-notes fashion) as I'm discovering some of what I've read has application to current news issues.
Do not panic dear readers!. Lord forbid as a man I have put aside such childish things as criticizing the emotionally incapacitated and/or morally challenged.
However, this new reading adventure has helped me to reason out something I saw in a newspaper recently regarding the newly elected Mayor of New York, and his desire to banish the horse and carriages that hang out around Central Park in Manhattan - east or west of those tantalizing Sangrias.
These familiar couplings of animal and vehicle are an old tradition.They are also usually a must for most visiting tourists - at least - those who apparently are not members of P.E.T.A. - and presumably still wear leather shoes to get around town. Let me explain.
P.E.T.A's passion for almost any living thing on this earth (okay, maybe not humans) can sometimes make my blood boil for a couple of reasons.
Take one apparent ardent supporter of the Mayor who appears to be a P.E.T.A "wannabe". He argues that "carriage horses working the streets with motor vehicles, puts them in harms way for nine hours a day".
(My reading comprehensions skills have decreased drastically since my college days. At first, I thought he was talking about hookers - not hoofers)
He then claims "because horses can become dangerous when they spook and run frantically down busy streets, they pose a hazard to us. No amount of regulation can stop a horse from spooking!"
But, that wasn't enough. Like most P.E.T.A supporters, this guy " was on a roll" and quickly switched from "cognitive" to "affect", in, well, a "New York minute".
He continues: "Denying horses the chance to graze freely every day is inhumane. Without a pasture, they are unable to fulfill their most basic instincts. Our country was built on the backs of horses. It's time we reciprocate by taking them off of NYC's inhospitable streets and giving them a humane retirement".
So what's his next cause - you might well ask? Will it be to also ban bicycle messengers, recreational bicyclists, and pedestrians who, from what I've read, seem to suffer the same traffic problems as horses.
But you see, a supposition of that nature would suggest this (supposed) P.E.T.A guy is as concerned about human beings as he is about animals. I am saddened to report that, quite often,when you question such an individual a little further. you learn that's not the case.
Fortunately, humanity is not without it's supporters.
A second quote in the article regarding the horsey/carriage matter appeared in opposition to that you've just read.
"A whole lot of people have lived apart from animals for so long that they've forgotten that animals are not 'differently shaped' people. Or, even if they are, people don't even want to stand around, purposeless, all day. Why would a horse?"
She continues. "The horses have been shaped for eons to move many miles in a day, with the friendship and security of a leader. They're in that job because they enjoy it and they're particularly suited for it, unlike any other species on earth."
(Nathan Detroit would have loved this "dame' and not just for her alleged "horse sense".)
However, my non-partial agreement with her view is because of something I just read in "The Story" (P2)
"And God said, let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth, and it was so. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and everything that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good."
Maybe, I'm making too big an assumption here; but whether you're a creativity sort of guy or an evolutionist, it doesn't sound like horses, cattle, and even the creeping things were ever meant to be humans.
My read here is that unless one of those carriage horses was named "Mr. Ed" - I'm not sure whether either the guy or the gal truly know what horses want out of life.
Is it their desire to pull a carriage for food and board - a hot bath - a good combing every once in a while - the enjoyment of their leader, the right to crap on the street without receiving a ticket - or, is it their design to just hang out in the pasture fulfilling their basic instincts - whatever that might be?.
But, then again, what do I know? Maybe the answer is in the New Testament.
I do know I'm a little concerned about the creepy things.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
SURVIVOR - 2014
In the spirit of the Olympics I would like to share my recent victory in a difficult competetion. The game was entitled "find the newspaper this time, sucker dude!"
It started in mid-December when I decided not to fill out - nor return - the self-addressed envelope and note tucked away in my morning newspaper, and signed "Jesus."
Immediately, I became suspicious.
My reason for declining to join this, heretofore, unknown tradition was that by the end of the year my spirit of giving had reached the point of diminishing return.
I reasoned, "Where will it all end? Will that 80+ year old female bagger from our local super market, who insists on helping me out to the car regardless of the size of my groceries, be my next adversary?
Yeah, I know she verbalizes her agreement with the stores' policy to decline all tips. But, will I someday get home and find another personal envelope tucked between my broccoli and portabella musrooms?
It was obvious to me that my newspaper carrier disagreed with my decision.
Soon I discovered the early morning delivery location of my newspaper was under the car, onto my neighbors driveway (on both sides of the street) - atop the carport - behind the front and side bushes, and a few times pitched into that little "well space" hidden from view between the house and the front steps.
His clever tactics included depositing it in the middle of my wife's prize fern and once, deep inside the blue recyclable containers.
The battle was now on.
I began my strategy by hiding out in the well space with my prized Hopalong Cassidy decaf coffee thermos while clutching my oversized soaker gun filled with grape Kool-Aid.
Unfortunately, the first night I fell asleep - dropped the thermos - leaving a milk stain on the concrete right beside the purple one from my leaky water gun. To make matters worse, a passing bird pooped on my uncovered head during my time of repose.
I have no idea where the delivery guy was hiding during my guerrila preparation period, but I was saddened to note my newspaper was now resting in the corner behind me when I awoke.
I gave up the tactic of engaging in field combat and moved my operation indoors. Soon I tired of staring out the kitchen window searching for almost non-existant early morning traffic and retired to the bedroom.
Each morning for almost three weeks the results were the same - until one morning the carrier guy obviously tired of the game and decided to cut me some slack.
It was right before Superbowl on a very windy morning. I didn't have to search for my paper. The delivery dude had thoughtfully impaled the sports pages - with the remaining three sections tucked inside - onto the rear antennae of my car - so I would not miss the latest attempt of the sports media to canonize Peyton Manning.
Now, I don't like to brag, but this old Irishman knows capitulation when he sees it.
However, it is not like me to lord my victories over my opponent. So that night I retrieved his envelope - placed a twenty dollar bill inside - and placed the envelope in the exact same location as that mornings sports pages.
I will sum my blog up with two quotes I see as appropriate to close:
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." - Lao-tsu - Chinese philosopher (604 BC - 531BC).
"We have met the enemy and he is us." - (Walt Kelly's "Pogo" - (Earth Day 1970).
It started in mid-December when I decided not to fill out - nor return - the self-addressed envelope and note tucked away in my morning newspaper, and signed "Jesus."
Immediately, I became suspicious.
My reason for declining to join this, heretofore, unknown tradition was that by the end of the year my spirit of giving had reached the point of diminishing return.
I reasoned, "Where will it all end? Will that 80+ year old female bagger from our local super market, who insists on helping me out to the car regardless of the size of my groceries, be my next adversary?
Yeah, I know she verbalizes her agreement with the stores' policy to decline all tips. But, will I someday get home and find another personal envelope tucked between my broccoli and portabella musrooms?
It was obvious to me that my newspaper carrier disagreed with my decision.
Soon I discovered the early morning delivery location of my newspaper was under the car, onto my neighbors driveway (on both sides of the street) - atop the carport - behind the front and side bushes, and a few times pitched into that little "well space" hidden from view between the house and the front steps.
His clever tactics included depositing it in the middle of my wife's prize fern and once, deep inside the blue recyclable containers.
The battle was now on.
I began my strategy by hiding out in the well space with my prized Hopalong Cassidy decaf coffee thermos while clutching my oversized soaker gun filled with grape Kool-Aid.
Unfortunately, the first night I fell asleep - dropped the thermos - leaving a milk stain on the concrete right beside the purple one from my leaky water gun. To make matters worse, a passing bird pooped on my uncovered head during my time of repose.
I have no idea where the delivery guy was hiding during my guerrila preparation period, but I was saddened to note my newspaper was now resting in the corner behind me when I awoke.
I gave up the tactic of engaging in field combat and moved my operation indoors. Soon I tired of staring out the kitchen window searching for almost non-existant early morning traffic and retired to the bedroom.
Each morning for almost three weeks the results were the same - until one morning the carrier guy obviously tired of the game and decided to cut me some slack.
It was right before Superbowl on a very windy morning. I didn't have to search for my paper. The delivery dude had thoughtfully impaled the sports pages - with the remaining three sections tucked inside - onto the rear antennae of my car - so I would not miss the latest attempt of the sports media to canonize Peyton Manning.
Now, I don't like to brag, but this old Irishman knows capitulation when he sees it.
However, it is not like me to lord my victories over my opponent. So that night I retrieved his envelope - placed a twenty dollar bill inside - and placed the envelope in the exact same location as that mornings sports pages.
I will sum my blog up with two quotes I see as appropriate to close:
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." - Lao-tsu - Chinese philosopher (604 BC - 531BC).
"We have met the enemy and he is us." - (Walt Kelly's "Pogo" - (Earth Day 1970).
THINGS I WISH I HAD KNOWN WHEN I WAS YOUNGER.
Periodically, this "Male Emancipation Proclamation" pops up in one form or another. I chose to delete some observations for brevity and changed a word here and there.
During those days in which I thought I was a sensitive man - only to find I was apparently alone in that belief - I wish I had known these words of wisdom....
How Men Think - Men's Rules:
Men are not mind readers.
Learn to work the toilet seat, you're a big girl. If it's up - put it down. You don't hear us complaining when YOU leave it down.
Crying is blackmail.
Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one - subtle hints do not work - strong hints do not work - obvious hints do not work - just say it!
Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your sister and your girlfriends are for.
Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.
If you think you're fat - you probably are. Don't ask us.
If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes
you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
All men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit - not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing", we act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.
Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as sports or sex.
Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know I'm sleeping on the couch TONIGHT... but did you know men don't really mind that? It's like camping....
(Actually, for ONE night, the couch is quite Bar - able.)
During those days in which I thought I was a sensitive man - only to find I was apparently alone in that belief - I wish I had known these words of wisdom....
How Men Think - Men's Rules:
Men are not mind readers.
Learn to work the toilet seat, you're a big girl. If it's up - put it down. You don't hear us complaining when YOU leave it down.
Crying is blackmail.
Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one - subtle hints do not work - strong hints do not work - obvious hints do not work - just say it!
Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your sister and your girlfriends are for.
Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.
If you think you're fat - you probably are. Don't ask us.
If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes
you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
All men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit - not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing", we act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.
Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as sports or sex.
Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know I'm sleeping on the couch TONIGHT... but did you know men don't really mind that? It's like camping....
(Actually, for ONE night, the couch is quite Bar - able.)
Monday, January 13, 2014
IGNORANCE - GREED - AND BASKETS
Recently, much has been made by the media about former Secretary of Defense Robert Gates new book, "Duty" - as a thoughtful criticism of our government.
I've neither read nor seen the book primarily because as of this writing I believe it has not yet been published.
Therefore, please let my ignorance and possibly naivete be your temporary guide.
As one might expect, a prompt response to Gates' book was delivered by Senior White House Advisor Dan Pfeiffer. He disagreed with Gates assessment of both Obama and Biden, but not as strongly as one might expect.
He said he "fundamentally disagreed" with the former Defense Secretary's assessment of the President and Vice-President; but then he threw us a curve that is currently in vogue in Washington as well as Hollywood.
He dismissed the criticism by Gates as a confirmation of his (Pfeiffers) "tempering experience" of being in the White House for years and, (as)"one that gives you perspective"
He concludes, "You can separate the signal from -- what's just Washington noise and (that which) really matters . . . you don't get worked up about things that you know are going to be fleeting or aren't going to matter in the long term."
USA Today didn't see it that way. Nor do I.
The man whom Pfeiffer would not waste much breath on is one who was not only a member of both political parties Cabinets, but a true Washington insider, who is seen as level headed and respected by many.
The newspapers assessment: "Gates is the type of person increasingly in short supply in Washington .. . . . . he is motivated not by ambition but by dedication to service, love of country, and deep concern for the men and women who put themselves in harms way. What he has to say is important."
Gates described Congress as "uncivil, incompetent, parochial, and hypocritical". I might have added one of the seven deadly sins "Greed(y)". Maybe he did.
Gates continued, "Members of Congress routinely subordinate the national interest to their own" . . . (they) sanctimoniously criticize Pentagon bloat only to insist on continuing inefficient or obsolete programs in their own states or districts."
USA Today closes with this quote: "Only shame can change the situation, and members of Congress who engage in the petty, destructive behavior Gates describes aren't shamed often enough." (see Citizens United)
Folks, if the official W.H. reaction to what appears to be valid criticism from a respected critic is depicted as nothing more than "noise", we truly are "Going to Hell in a handbasket."
Hopefully we can change that. We desperately need more responsible resources like Bob Gates and the media's reliable and selfless guidance to assist us on our journey.
I've neither read nor seen the book primarily because as of this writing I believe it has not yet been published.
Therefore, please let my ignorance and possibly naivete be your temporary guide.
As one might expect, a prompt response to Gates' book was delivered by Senior White House Advisor Dan Pfeiffer. He disagreed with Gates assessment of both Obama and Biden, but not as strongly as one might expect.
He said he "fundamentally disagreed" with the former Defense Secretary's assessment of the President and Vice-President; but then he threw us a curve that is currently in vogue in Washington as well as Hollywood.
He dismissed the criticism by Gates as a confirmation of his (Pfeiffers) "tempering experience" of being in the White House for years and, (as)"one that gives you perspective"
He concludes, "You can separate the signal from -- what's just Washington noise and (that which) really matters . . . you don't get worked up about things that you know are going to be fleeting or aren't going to matter in the long term."
USA Today didn't see it that way. Nor do I.
The man whom Pfeiffer would not waste much breath on is one who was not only a member of both political parties Cabinets, but a true Washington insider, who is seen as level headed and respected by many.
The newspapers assessment: "Gates is the type of person increasingly in short supply in Washington .. . . . . he is motivated not by ambition but by dedication to service, love of country, and deep concern for the men and women who put themselves in harms way. What he has to say is important."
Gates described Congress as "uncivil, incompetent, parochial, and hypocritical". I might have added one of the seven deadly sins "Greed(y)". Maybe he did.
Gates continued, "Members of Congress routinely subordinate the national interest to their own" . . . (they) sanctimoniously criticize Pentagon bloat only to insist on continuing inefficient or obsolete programs in their own states or districts."
USA Today closes with this quote: "Only shame can change the situation, and members of Congress who engage in the petty, destructive behavior Gates describes aren't shamed often enough." (see Citizens United)
Folks, if the official W.H. reaction to what appears to be valid criticism from a respected critic is depicted as nothing more than "noise", we truly are "Going to Hell in a handbasket."
Hopefully we can change that. We desperately need more responsible resources like Bob Gates and the media's reliable and selfless guidance to assist us on our journey.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
A CHRISTMAS BLOG -THE CIRCLE OF LIFE
Wife Phyl and I are spending Christmas in Baltimore with her son Tad, Lindy and the three kids: Lucas, Landon, and Hayden, ages, 5 - 3 - and 1, respectively.
If old Bar was still partaking of the hard stuff a fifth of Cutty would have been high on HIS Santa stocking stuffer list.
My septugenarian head has been spinning like that kid from "The Exorcist". What goes around - comes around.
They kids are cute, personable as all get out, talkative and active. The emphasis here is definitely on the word "Active".
We have witnessed more blocking at the knees, head-on collisions, and neck high tackles than took place in Sunday's Raven/Patriots game.
Despite what I have just written - the little guys are a total delight and remind me much of what it was like to have 4 tots of my own at this time of year.
They were all also running around in anticipation of the big fat guy in the red suit who, even then, had a real hangup about flying bell-ringing reindeer.
Being here is a little like riding a bike again. You quickly recognize the sound and tone of a kids cry as one that is caused by sleep deprivation and confirms the dire need of a good nap.
So, Bella and I went upstairs - closed the door - and took one.
Thursday is my scheduled flight to Pittsburgh, celebrating the holidays with those former tots I referenced above; three of whom have nine of my grandkids between them.
Thankfully, none of the grandkids are still young enough to enjoy tackling or attempting to smother their siblings with couch pillows.
But, then again, I'm not confident enough to seek confirmation of my assumption.
Tad is half my age and is constantly down on the floor playing with the kids - practicing moves and rough play with them that I was sure I alone had invented.
Phyl and I have decided: "Being a spectator is good!" Neither of us has felt the slightest compunction to volunteer as a tag team wrestling participant.
I'm enjoying the kids, but am very content to leave Phyl behind in Baltimore,
baking from recipes more diversified than any that Betty Crocker ever thought of.
Of course, that was also back in the day when another Betty, named Furness, was on live TV struggling with those stubborn Westinghouse refrigerator doors.
Times are indeed different in 2013, but it's still nice to relive those old fashioned memories for this Christmas blog.
My attitude is: "Been there - done it and I'm more than thrilled to just sit, taste, and watch."
Phyl swears what Tad gave - he is now receiving.
In her words: "the circle of life has now completed itself."
If old Bar was still partaking of the hard stuff a fifth of Cutty would have been high on HIS Santa stocking stuffer list.
My septugenarian head has been spinning like that kid from "The Exorcist". What goes around - comes around.
They kids are cute, personable as all get out, talkative and active. The emphasis here is definitely on the word "Active".
We have witnessed more blocking at the knees, head-on collisions, and neck high tackles than took place in Sunday's Raven/Patriots game.
Despite what I have just written - the little guys are a total delight and remind me much of what it was like to have 4 tots of my own at this time of year.
They were all also running around in anticipation of the big fat guy in the red suit who, even then, had a real hangup about flying bell-ringing reindeer.
Being here is a little like riding a bike again. You quickly recognize the sound and tone of a kids cry as one that is caused by sleep deprivation and confirms the dire need of a good nap.
So, Bella and I went upstairs - closed the door - and took one.
Thursday is my scheduled flight to Pittsburgh, celebrating the holidays with those former tots I referenced above; three of whom have nine of my grandkids between them.
Thankfully, none of the grandkids are still young enough to enjoy tackling or attempting to smother their siblings with couch pillows.
But, then again, I'm not confident enough to seek confirmation of my assumption.
Tad is half my age and is constantly down on the floor playing with the kids - practicing moves and rough play with them that I was sure I alone had invented.
Phyl and I have decided: "Being a spectator is good!" Neither of us has felt the slightest compunction to volunteer as a tag team wrestling participant.
I'm enjoying the kids, but am very content to leave Phyl behind in Baltimore,
baking from recipes more diversified than any that Betty Crocker ever thought of.
Of course, that was also back in the day when another Betty, named Furness, was on live TV struggling with those stubborn Westinghouse refrigerator doors.
Times are indeed different in 2013, but it's still nice to relive those old fashioned memories for this Christmas blog.
My attitude is: "Been there - done it and I'm more than thrilled to just sit, taste, and watch."
Phyl swears what Tad gave - he is now receiving.
In her words: "the circle of life has now completed itself."
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
THE AM-EX RIPOFF?
Christmas is a tough shopping time for grown up kids who are looking for birthday and Christmas gifts for parents who are in their senior years.
My parents were smokers so cigarettes or pipe tobacco was a fairly safe bet - at least early on. I needed to expand my horizons.
Unfortunately, by the time Mom reached her 50's she had pretty much cornered the market on Milk Glass - and I really didn't want to listen to her lectures about buying Dad any more Vodka. He obviously was running out of places to hide it.
I found that a good alternative was driving them to a nice restaurant for dinner post-holiday - something we all could enjoy.
When my kids ask, "What would you and Phyl like? - I sort of draw a blank. God has been good to us - both with our kids - and our creature comforts.
This year we hung a sign over our closets proclaiming it to be :"Bealls Department Store - Sullivan Branch".
Nowadays, almost everything we wear - from head to toe - comes from our Bealls stores in Florida.The clothes are well made - designs ever changing - selections many - and all the goodies - needed or not - are reasonably priced.
When we consider our "Beall Bucks" we receive based on prior purchases - their frequent sales - and weekly Tuesday Senior Days - I fully expect someday - after they bag our purchases - they will put nothing on our charge - and instead, hand us an instant cash rebate.
My alternative gift idea for my kids - who have no Bealls - is non-specific gift cards that they can choose to spend them wherever and whenever.
A tradition between me and my kids is to use gift cards of varying denominations as opposed to either of us purchasing for the other an item of gift clothing that even the guys over at the Moose would laugh at.
My gift cards are usually either for a great restaurant they might "pass" on due to family priorities, or instead, to as a means of furnishing them with some extra funds for something expensive they like but hesitate to buy. The gift cards can make up the difference and placate their conscience for wanting it.
One of my kids simply asks for a holiday gift card from Lowes each Christmas - as he's always building something.
While some in my family don't understand the logic - it works for us.
My side of the family has concluded gift cards are great - that is - unless they are Am-Ex gift cards, like the two for $25 one of the kids thoughtfully sent to me for my birthday. Couldn't use them!
Even though my kids paid cold cash (which is floating around in someone's business coffers) - the checkout clerk either overlooked or possibly intentionally failed to clear the Am-Ex cards for future use - and, bottom line - the kids have no receipt to determine which of the hundred stores in their shopping area "did the deed".
"Ole Dad" was upset with both the store and Am-Ex when he found out what happened - but not in anyway upset at the kids.
It was a great idea - and could have easily been the incentive for me to try the top shelf wine at Geckos instead of the house brand. The fact I require neither is beside the point.
Let's be honest: "Who hangs on to all their family shopping receipts - particularly when our progeny have 14 kids of their own. That's one heckuva lot of receipts to store up.
Besides, the kids probably concluded : "The cards are from American Express - what could possibly go wrong?"
I simply reasoned all our kids would need much larger homes or go rent storage rooms (first month free) to retain all of their many receipts.
Despite my calls to Amex - and they were not dull - my attempts to reach someone who had more than a passing knowledge of English pronounciation accompanied by slightly above average customer service skills - were all in vain.
Even following my encouragement of the "supervisor" to set up a conference call between Am-Ex , my kid and myself (and which he also blew) - Am-Ex wouldn't bend.
The attitude of the Am-Ex supervisor was :"No receipt? No replacement. No reimbursement!" I reluctantly gave up - deciding recovering fifty bucks isn't worth a stroke.
My "Senior Logic" tells me: Am-Ex sold the cards to the retailer for resale - making a profit.The retailer pocketed my kids $50 - also making a profit - and my kids - the consumers - are out 50 bucks - simply because they don't hoard all of their store receipts and had confidence in "Big Blue".
Maybe on the next trip to Bealls I can purchase a suitable frame for my two bright and shiny American Express gift cards - that do not expire until 2023 - and hang it above my office computer - so I don't forget.
The fact I couldn't use the cards to buy yet one more Bealls sweatshirt and/or a pair of K-Swiss sneaks to add to my collection is a minor issue.
However, the fact that the money didn't go to one of my grandkids to purchase his or her own sweatshirt and sneaks - is not.
Thank You Am-Ex.
My parents were smokers so cigarettes or pipe tobacco was a fairly safe bet - at least early on. I needed to expand my horizons.
Unfortunately, by the time Mom reached her 50's she had pretty much cornered the market on Milk Glass - and I really didn't want to listen to her lectures about buying Dad any more Vodka. He obviously was running out of places to hide it.
I found that a good alternative was driving them to a nice restaurant for dinner post-holiday - something we all could enjoy.
When my kids ask, "What would you and Phyl like? - I sort of draw a blank. God has been good to us - both with our kids - and our creature comforts.
This year we hung a sign over our closets proclaiming it to be :"Bealls Department Store - Sullivan Branch".
Nowadays, almost everything we wear - from head to toe - comes from our Bealls stores in Florida.The clothes are well made - designs ever changing - selections many - and all the goodies - needed or not - are reasonably priced.
When we consider our "Beall Bucks" we receive based on prior purchases - their frequent sales - and weekly Tuesday Senior Days - I fully expect someday - after they bag our purchases - they will put nothing on our charge - and instead, hand us an instant cash rebate.
My alternative gift idea for my kids - who have no Bealls - is non-specific gift cards that they can choose to spend them wherever and whenever.
A tradition between me and my kids is to use gift cards of varying denominations as opposed to either of us purchasing for the other an item of gift clothing that even the guys over at the Moose would laugh at.
My gift cards are usually either for a great restaurant they might "pass" on due to family priorities, or instead, to as a means of furnishing them with some extra funds for something expensive they like but hesitate to buy. The gift cards can make up the difference and placate their conscience for wanting it.
One of my kids simply asks for a holiday gift card from Lowes each Christmas - as he's always building something.
While some in my family don't understand the logic - it works for us.
My side of the family has concluded gift cards are great - that is - unless they are Am-Ex gift cards, like the two for $25 one of the kids thoughtfully sent to me for my birthday. Couldn't use them!
Even though my kids paid cold cash (which is floating around in someone's business coffers) - the checkout clerk either overlooked or possibly intentionally failed to clear the Am-Ex cards for future use - and, bottom line - the kids have no receipt to determine which of the hundred stores in their shopping area "did the deed".
"Ole Dad" was upset with both the store and Am-Ex when he found out what happened - but not in anyway upset at the kids.
It was a great idea - and could have easily been the incentive for me to try the top shelf wine at Geckos instead of the house brand. The fact I require neither is beside the point.
Let's be honest: "Who hangs on to all their family shopping receipts - particularly when our progeny have 14 kids of their own. That's one heckuva lot of receipts to store up.
Besides, the kids probably concluded : "The cards are from American Express - what could possibly go wrong?"
I simply reasoned all our kids would need much larger homes or go rent storage rooms (first month free) to retain all of their many receipts.
Despite my calls to Amex - and they were not dull - my attempts to reach someone who had more than a passing knowledge of English pronounciation accompanied by slightly above average customer service skills - were all in vain.
Even following my encouragement of the "supervisor" to set up a conference call between Am-Ex , my kid and myself (and which he also blew) - Am-Ex wouldn't bend.
The attitude of the Am-Ex supervisor was :"No receipt? No replacement. No reimbursement!" I reluctantly gave up - deciding recovering fifty bucks isn't worth a stroke.
My "Senior Logic" tells me: Am-Ex sold the cards to the retailer for resale - making a profit.The retailer pocketed my kids $50 - also making a profit - and my kids - the consumers - are out 50 bucks - simply because they don't hoard all of their store receipts and had confidence in "Big Blue".
Maybe on the next trip to Bealls I can purchase a suitable frame for my two bright and shiny American Express gift cards - that do not expire until 2023 - and hang it above my office computer - so I don't forget.
The fact I couldn't use the cards to buy yet one more Bealls sweatshirt and/or a pair of K-Swiss sneaks to add to my collection is a minor issue.
However, the fact that the money didn't go to one of my grandkids to purchase his or her own sweatshirt and sneaks - is not.
Thank You Am-Ex.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
STEALING AGAIN/PLAYING CHICKEN,
It continues to scare me that friend Harry http://www.harry2335.blogspot.com and I share some of the same pet-peeves.
Harry's latest blog addressed the subject of "why" questions about football.
I enjoyed the blog but found one comment/question in particular which I "again" chose to steal and embellish:" Why do they (football players) jump around and make funny gestures after a good play or touchdown?"
My mind immediately went to Steelers receiver Emmanuel Sanders, although Harry's observation could apply (and may have been intended) to describe his defensive teammates as well when they finally make a tackle.
One disclaimer: When you watch your favorite football team lose games they surely would have won in seasons past, resulting in their current lousy win/loss record, it would take a mighty fine person not to give in to the temptation to make some player or coach a scapegoat.
I am not that mighty fine person.
My wife Phyl and I often watch the Steelers games - when possible at home - but, when not shown by Brighthouse - we will often gravitate to various local sports bars - if we think we can stomach the drunk fans from the opposite teams.
My wife - an ex-jock in high school who retained her youthful good looks - is also a good football watching partner. She understands the game and watches it with critical eyes - sometimes catching things I missed..
Last week she turned to me during a game and asked sardonically, "Why does Sanders get so excited and dance around if he makes what appears to be a fairly easy catch when he's also the guy who dropped two critical passes that cost them the ballgame?"
I couldn't hide my Irish attempt at humor and replied, "Perhaps it's just because he's so surprised to finally catch one."
She looked at me - rolled her eyes - and went back to viewing the game - or whatever you call it when it involves watching the Steelers this year.
Years ago, the Pittsburgh Pirates had a behemouth of a man, Willie Stargell, a bodacious home run hitter who smacked 48 one year.
Willie also owned a chicken restaurant in the Pittsburgh Hill District. The restaurant had a promotional tie to his home run production. For every homer Willie hit those customers in his restaurant at the time received free chicken.
I wish in this day when - on televised sports events - the networks can instantly display the most minute statistics about the athletes - including their bathroom habits - they would find the time to add a couple more.
When a receiver, like Sanders, does make a catch - could they show how much - according to his per game salary - he was paid to do just that And, then announce that the player has graciously volunteered to donate that same amount to a local charity?
OK, that's not "chicken feed" - but, let's face it - that post-catch childish stuff is pure "chicken s--t."
Harry's latest blog addressed the subject of "why" questions about football.
I enjoyed the blog but found one comment/question in particular which I "again" chose to steal and embellish:" Why do they (football players) jump around and make funny gestures after a good play or touchdown?"
My mind immediately went to Steelers receiver Emmanuel Sanders, although Harry's observation could apply (and may have been intended) to describe his defensive teammates as well when they finally make a tackle.
One disclaimer: When you watch your favorite football team lose games they surely would have won in seasons past, resulting in their current lousy win/loss record, it would take a mighty fine person not to give in to the temptation to make some player or coach a scapegoat.
I am not that mighty fine person.
My wife Phyl and I often watch the Steelers games - when possible at home - but, when not shown by Brighthouse - we will often gravitate to various local sports bars - if we think we can stomach the drunk fans from the opposite teams.
My wife - an ex-jock in high school who retained her youthful good looks - is also a good football watching partner. She understands the game and watches it with critical eyes - sometimes catching things I missed..
Last week she turned to me during a game and asked sardonically, "Why does Sanders get so excited and dance around if he makes what appears to be a fairly easy catch when he's also the guy who dropped two critical passes that cost them the ballgame?"
I couldn't hide my Irish attempt at humor and replied, "Perhaps it's just because he's so surprised to finally catch one."
She looked at me - rolled her eyes - and went back to viewing the game - or whatever you call it when it involves watching the Steelers this year.
Years ago, the Pittsburgh Pirates had a behemouth of a man, Willie Stargell, a bodacious home run hitter who smacked 48 one year.
Willie also owned a chicken restaurant in the Pittsburgh Hill District. The restaurant had a promotional tie to his home run production. For every homer Willie hit those customers in his restaurant at the time received free chicken.
I wish in this day when - on televised sports events - the networks can instantly display the most minute statistics about the athletes - including their bathroom habits - they would find the time to add a couple more.
When a receiver, like Sanders, does make a catch - could they show how much - according to his per game salary - he was paid to do just that And, then announce that the player has graciously volunteered to donate that same amount to a local charity?
OK, that's not "chicken feed" - but, let's face it - that post-catch childish stuff is pure "chicken s--t."
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