The Capons Among Us

Yes, I've been gone a little while. I spent the better part of nearly two weeks at my son's in Washoe Valley, Nevada.

It was cold (for me, at least), but beautiful. We spent a few days hiking the hills around their home and at a park outside of Reno. Another day we drove to Bodie, CA (Oh, Gawd! I miss California), an old deserted mining town where I got some awesome photos.

But, now I'm home. I've settled back in, reluctantly, to the normal flow of things.

While I was gone, Tom recorded all of our favorite programs so I could watch them when I got home. I've been home for two weeks now and I've still not watched everything. I can only take television in little spurts.

Tonight we watched an episode of "Chopped All-Stars" where former Chopped judges were given baskets filled with normal stuff, as opposed to the crap the usual contestants receive.

I think I've expressed my discontent for the "baskets" on previous occasions. Who could make a dish worth a $10,000 prize consisting of gummy bears, yak broth, prickly pears and lamb nuts? I wouldn't even try. But, what's in the baskets for the all-star chefs? Capon, ramps, canned pizza sauce and burrata. Seriously? Who couldn't make a seriously delicious dish with those ingredients?

However, Tom was not concerned with the ultimate dish. He was mesmerized with the capons. De-sexed poultry.

Dialogue from the program:

Judge Aaron Sanchez: "Let's talk about capons!"

Host Ted Allen: "Well, it's a castrated rooster and because of that, it has no sex drive and it's lazy and it just sits around and eats and the results of that being a lot more fat."

My Loving Husband: "Kinda like an old husband..."

{sigh} Do you see what I'm dealing with here?

Grandpa Naked Masturbating

Google it. What you'll get apparently is a link to this page of my blog. That particular blog post does in fact contain the word "masturbation" but not a naked grandpa in sight.

Some poor soul from Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil was apparently looking for some old man porn, Googled "Grandpa Naked Masturbating" and was directed to my blog. He or she only stayed 8 seconds. Obviously, my blog was a huge disappointment.

The Growing Family Tapestry

Mail is generally a non-event in our house. It's mostly bills, donation solicitations, junk mail and various catalogs. Today it included two Christmas cards.

One was from a cousin who recently moved from Oregon back to California. She and her husband are planning to drive up to visit us while we are staying with our oldest son over the holidays. Her card just confirmed that. I'm thrilled. I haven't seen Jen in probably 20 years.

I didn't recognize the name on the other card. I thought it was one of those "handwritten" card advertisements and almost didn't even bother to open it. I glanced again at the front of the envelope. The return address was in Colorado. At second look I thought it was an old friend of Tom's who had moved to Denver in the 70's. But the last name was different, so I knew it wasn't from Pete.

I decided to open it.

Under the printed holiday greeting was the usual handwritten message, With Love, followed by the names of all the family members, names I did not recognize. Thinking I had inadvertently opened someone else's card that had been incorrectly delivered to our address, I looked on the front of the envelope to make sure it was addressed to us. It was addressed to me "and Family."

I opened the card again and read the handwritten note on the left hand side:

"Hi Terri,
I am your cousin. I am Lyle's daughter. My mom said you were working on family history. I can give you a little info......call me. I would love to talk to you and get to know you."

I was stunned. As I wrote in a previous post, I hadn't seen my uncle and aunt and their family for at least fifty years when they and my parents parted ways. The last time I saw my cousin, she was probably four or five years old.

When Tom got home, I handed him the card and said, "You will never believe this."

When he finished reading, he looked up, "Wow. After all these years. Are you going to call her?"

"Yes."

"Good for you. Maybe in the future, we can take a trip so you can reconnect with your family."

"Maybe we can," I said with a tear in my eye.

A Day in the Life

Have you ever wondered what your dog is thinking when Fido sits at your feet and stares at you? Is he thinking, I'm hungry, feed me? Or, I'm feeling a little insecure and I could use a pat on the head right about now? Or maybe, I sure hope you don't find that shoe I chewed up and buried in the corner of the backyard.

Tom and I have often wished someone would invent a real 'talking dog collar" like the one in the animated Disney movie, UP. The collar receives brain signals from the dog, translates them into human English words and sentences, and Voila! the dog is communicating in words we understand.

We have wracked our brains trying to come up with a method that will capture, if not what our dog Joe is thinking, at the very least what his daily life experience is like. I believe we've finally accomplished our goal.

Through the magic of telegenic science, we have penetrated the very recesses of Joe's consciousness. While this experiment does not provide the comprehensive conversational exchange between a human and pet as a talking dog collar would, we have been able to at least transform Joe's consciousness it into a visually stunning depiction of how Joe experiences the world around him.

The experience is so overwhelming to the human psyche, we recommend you watch the 44-second video once, then take a break to allow your mind to process what you've seen. But, we believe this provides a definitive portrayal of Joe's chaotic day.

I'm so depressed

Did you hear that Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore are divorcing? My faith is shaken. I may not survive this. Proof positive that nothing lasts forever.

Tom, upon hearing the news, immediately thought he'd take a trip to California to console Demi, but then thought better of it after he read about Demi's dumps....the human kind, not the human excrement kind. Tom was fearful he might just become another Demi dump.

And I'm thinkin', good choice Dude.

Hypocrisy Isn't a Dirty Word

Defined, hypocrisy is "a pretense of having a virtuous character, moral or religious beliefs or principles, etc., that one does not really possess."

Hypocrisy is merely pretending, and we've all done that. When I was a little girl, I pretended to be a teacher even though I couldn't spell. But when you become a grown-up, you're supposed to stop pretending you're something you're not, or stop pretending to believe in something that you really don't.

Michell Bachmann apparently hasn't received that memo.

Michell Bachmann is the House republican for Minnesota's district 6 and presidential candidate who hates government spending; who voted against raising the debt ceiling; who thinks the government provides too many services to its citizens and voted to terminate the Home Affordable mortgage program; who voted against an additional $825 billion for an economic recovery package; who voted against the $60 billion stimulus package for jobs, infrastructure and energy; who voted against extending unemployment benefits from 39 weeks to 59 weeks; who voted against raising the minimum wage an additional 30¢; and who voted against giving federal employees four weeks of paid parental leave, just to name a few things (source).

Yes, Michell Bachmann opposes what she considers unnecessary government spending.....um, except when it applies to her. Michelle Bachmann is going to allow us...the taxpayers/government...to pay the salaries of at least three of her campaign staffers because her campaign funds are running low. Yep. According to this article, Michelle Bachmann's senior policy advisor, deputy press secretary and campaign scheduler are being added to her taxpayer/government funded congressional office payroll.

Now you don't think she would be so hypocritical as to actually allow or encourage her newly hired congressional staffers to perform campaign responsibilities while on government time do you? Oh c'mon, not someone of Michell Bachmann's virtuous character and principles.

What Are We Doing To Our Little Girls??

Photo credit: Marilyn Wann @ Tumblr

Twenty-five percent of women would rather win America’s Next Top Model than win a Nobel Prize.( Source...)

Twenty-three percent of women would rather lose their ability to read than their figures. ( Source...)

Fifty percent of 9-year-old girls and eighty percent of 10-year-old girls have dieted. Ninety percent of high school junior and senior girls diet regularly, even though only 10% to 15% are over the weight recommended by the standard height-weight charts. (Source...)

Young girls are more afraid of becoming fat than they are of nuclear war, cancer, or losing their parents. (Source...)

Sadly, more college women can name more Kardashians than wars we are currently fighting.

Ample evidence exists that there is a connection to the measurable harm, i.e. body image dissatisfaction, eating disorders, low self-esteem, poorer academic performance, depression and anxiety, and the inappropriate sexualizing of children.

Our little girls receive constant exposure to adult-like clothing fabricated in their little sizes. We encourage them to focus on their physical appearance alone. They receive encouragement and even lessons on how to mimic adult bodily postures and mannerisms. They are exposed to media images and toys that sexualize girls and women. As contestants, they learn to exploit their "sexuality" in the competitive nature of pageant participation and are judged on beauty and flirty appeal.

Are these the "skills" we want to teach our little girls? Wouldn't they be better served by participating in activities like athletic, music or other organized learning programs where they can learn skills appropriate for their age levels. Who is going to teach them to read, comprehend, think, evaluate and question? Who will inspire them to draw, paint, sculpt, design, create? Who will encourage them to have fun, play, walk, run, swim, ride bikes or climb mountains?

Why are we continuing to teach our girls that their entire self-worth, the only attributes they are capable of contributing to society, is skinny, pretty, flirty, sexy.... and dumb?

In the immortal song lyrics of Peggy Lee, "Is that all there is?"

Saturday Afternoon...

After working in the yard and in the kitchen, Tom and I have both finished taking our showers.

Sitting next to each at the island in the kitchen...

TOM: Mmmmm. You smell good.
ME: Thanks.

I lean over and bury my nose in his neck.

ME: You smell good, too. It's really light, but very nice.
TOM: Yeah, I know. It's Eau D'Man

Walmart + Hannukah = FAIL

Credit to @ArkCowboy, @lizzwinstead and @TLW3 of Twitter for photo and caption

I Really, REALLY Have to Stop Reading the Local Newspaper

I really, really, REALLY do.

It's only 10:00am and I am pissed and sick to my stomach. Although I have to admit, I woke up in a crappy mood this morning because my favorite aunt's 80th birthday party is just over a week away and I can't go. Who would have ever thought at this stage in our lives we'd be worse off financially than we were 25 years ago.

But that is not what this post is about. I HAVE to stop reading the local newspaper. And I have decided to no longer post to my newspaper food blog because when I log on I see a headline and I'm too tempted to read the article and the comments.

It's the comments people post. They're hateful, ugly, inappropriate and sometimes completely bizarre. This morning was no different. I was going to post a recipe to my food blog and when I logged on I saw the headline: "Guards left inmates unwatched while prisoner slain"

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any objection to the man/victim being jailed. In fact, I believe that's where he belonged for the crimes he committed.

My objection to the story isn't even about the story. It's about the comments of my "fellow citizens."

Rather than to just provide a link to the story, I have copied it and the comments, word for word.

Log Cabin Democrat

Guards left inmates unwatched while prisoner slain
Posted: October 5, 2010 - 8:30am

FORT SMITH (AP) — A report by the Sebastian County Sheriff's Office says jailers left inmates unguarded for an hour during the time an inmate accused of sex crimes with children was strangled.

The Times Record in Fort Smith reports 64-year-old Gary Van Wolf was likely lured from his cell, strangled, then dragged back to his cell. The inmate was found dead Sept. 16.

The sheriff's office has named 25-year-old inmate Ashley Eugene Kaufman as the suspect in the death.

Wolf was charged with two counts of sexual assault for allegedly fondling two boys, something Kaufman learned when he and Wolf made video court appearances.

Three jail employees were reprimanded, but the report also cites problems of overcrowding and too few jail staff members.

Comments (5)

• Hmmmmmm
  what a pity
  By Hmmmmmm | 10/05/10 - 12:12 pm
  
  they didn't do it sooner


• rp42
  Sing this song
  By rp42 | 10/05/10 - 01:28 pm
  
  And another one bites the dust!


• braydin
  I have to wonder...
  By braydin | 10/05/10 - 02:08 pm
  
  ...was this one of those opps we left them unattended wink wink


• TheVoiceInYourHead
  Well, I hope the guards that
  By TheVoiceInYourHead | 10/05/10 - 03:40 pm
  
  Well, I hope the guards that left the inmates unattended are ready for jail. If you think child molesters get it bad in jail, wait until you see what happens to prison guards.


• arkountrygirl
  Why are the guards in
  By arkountrygirl | 10/07/10 - 09:32 am
  
  Why are the guards in trouble? I'm so glad to know that some people still believe that we need to clear our jails of child molesters.Way to go Ashley Kaufman.Props to the man who thinks it is wrong to feed,shelter and cloth the child molesters of our communities.
  
  I'm sure if the judges and prosecutors would think about it they would love knowing that people like Ashley Kaufman are able to do what they can't do,get rid of animals like Gary Van Wolf.I understand that it is the job of the judges and prosecutors to give the system a chance to work but sometimes I think the system needs a little help.If an animal kills my livestock I have the right to put it down for being a danger to my livestock. I believe we should have the same right when it comes to our children.

What is it in a person's psycho/social makeup that makes them feel like this is okay?

What have we become?

Should I Laugh or Merely Shake My Head

My sister has been trying to send my birthday gift to me since my birthday in mid-June only to meet with one obstacle after another.

She is disabled and somewhat homebound. She doesn't own a car, but when the weather is good she can ride her bike, although she much take it easy and rest periodically. So, anyway, she ordered boxes from the post office - not the free, priority mail ones, but the plain kind you have to pay for. Here's a shocker....the post office charged her credit card and then promptly LOST her boxes, claiming they were actually delivered to her because their records showed the boxes indeed delivered.

Once she got that staightened out (after about two weeks), she found a used box, sealed the gift inside and went to the satellite post office closest to her. Closed. She went back two days later, package in hand. The postage machine was out of money to make change and she didn't have the exact change.

Last Friday she hit the jackpot! The satellite post office was (1) open, (2) the postage machine was fully funded, and (3) the package was finally on it's way.

Before I continue, I'd like to explain how our post office works. First, it's not like FedEx or UPS. When packages from those two companies are delivered to my house, generally they are left on the front porch and the delivery person rings the doorbell to let me know they've been here. Not so with our post office.

Our postal carrier delivers mail to our mailbox out in front of our house, probably just like yours. If she delivers a package, it's left on the porch, but we don't get the courtesy of a doorbell...ever. If she delivers a registered letter (and we've had some lately to advise us and our neighbors of public hearings), she will get out of her vehicle, walk to the front door, present the Return-Receipt card for signature and then hand over the letter. We find out later that there is additional mail in the mailbox that she didn't bother to bring to the door with her. We have learned to check our mailbox every day, whether she brings something to the door or not.

So what happened today? I had a meeting and errands to run in the afternoon. As I backed out of the garage towards the street, I noticed a package on the front porch. I pulled back into the driveway, put the car in park, set the emergency brake and walked to the porch to pick up the package. On top of the box, written in large letters in bold, black ink: "OPPOSITE SIDE UP"

Only in Arkansas

After an entire two weeks of bitching, moaning, crying, waling, yelling and throwing tantrums, Tom and I needed a light moment which he provided yesterday.

On his way to Little Rock, Tom was listening to the radio, a classic rock station. Mike Kennedy, the DJ during Tom's drive, is not from Arkansas...yep, another damn 'feriner' (foreigner) like us....but Kennedy has lived and worked here for a number of years. Yesterday morning Kennedy told the story of his 4th of July camping trip.

Kennedy was looking forward to a long, relaxing weekend of camping and boating. Friday evening he drove up to the Heber Springs campground which sits in a grove of trees on the shore of Greers Ferry Lake. After the long hour and a half drive, he finally pulled into his reserved camp site. As he was unloading his gear and setting up his camp site, he noticed in the camp site next to him a 36" flat screen television hanging from a tree by a ski rope. Sitting on the ground on either side of the television were two nice-sized stereo speakers. Kennedy's eyes followed the cables from the television to the ground, across the camp site and into the back of his new neighbor's pickup truck. In the truck bed, set up and pointing south for maximum reception, was his neighbor's Directv satellite dish. He shook his head and thought, "Only in Arkansas."

A Disappointment of Major Proportions

I checked my stats this morning.

Someone from London, England googled "big-size-penis" and wound up on my post about Joe's appendage.

I think it's a good bet that's not what London was looking for.

Holy Crap, Batman!!

I don't know where you live and what sewer/septic rules your city plays by, but where I live it's pretty much tolerant of everything, including leakage.

Now, I'm not trying to be gross here. Honestly I'm not. But I am already so grossed out by this that I have to vent (of course, it helps to be in a funk and foul mood for days on end, too), so I guess you can be grossed out, too.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about a crappie tournament at Lake Conway, a small lake surrounded by mostly very old homes with septic tanks leaking into the water. Fisherman are on Lake Conway daily catching fish to take home and cook for their evening meal (hurl).

Lake Beaverfork is another lake just outside the city limits, probably within ten minutes driving time from my house. When we moved here, there was nothing but old houses around it. In the last 17 years, people moving here from other parts of country could not believe their luck finding a piece of lakefront property for as little as $20,000, so now very old homes and very large new homes dot the shoreline. Although the City of Conway maintains the lake and the facilities surrounding it, the properties have not been annexed into the city limits and governed by city codes. All homes are still on septic instead of sewer.

You know where I'm going with this, don't you?

The last couple of weeks, the swimming beach has been closed because officials, during routine testing, found high levels of E.Coli in the water. They determined the cause to be that the swimming area is downhill from the public restrooms, which are on septic and officials have determined that the septic system is faulty and is leaking into the lake water (DUH). Remember I just said that the city maintains the facilities around the lake.

Of course, officials have said throughout this period of beach closure that it is perfectly safe to boat and FISH in the lake water.

So, let's get to their solution, shall we? Did they repair the the faulty, leaking septic system? Oh, no, don't fix it. No need to, says the State Health Department. Our brilliant state officials made a perfectly acceptable and reasonable suggestion: put a chlorinated barrier between the faulty septic system and the swimming beach.

I'm not kidding. And that is what they have done. Tuesday they finished laying perforated pipe around the swimming area. The pipe will be filled with pool chlorine, which will supposedly create a chemical barrier to keep the leaking liquified poop (sorry for the image) out of the swimming area.

And what do you think was going on in other parts of the lake as park workers laid the perforated pipe? The lake was filled with jet skiers, fishing boats and other boats pulling children riding in inner tubes. Our state and local officials deemed these activities "safe."

In order to open the swimming beach as quickly as possible, our accomplished and distinguished state officials suggested park workers also fill burlap sacks with pool chlorine, attach the sacks to the back of a motored boat, "and patrol the swimming area at a slow rate of speed to disperse the chemicals."

I feel so much safer. Where's my bathing suit and towel?

Left & Right

In an online political discussion group, one commenter explained the elevated eye rule in politics, that we could tell if a person was a liberal or conservative by their eyes.

Look closely and if a person's left eye is slightly higher than the right eye, that person is left eye dominant...or what we would call a liberal.

Conversely if the right eye is higher than the left eye, that person is right eye dominant...or conservative.

Another commenter responded by saying, "The only reason conservatives may be right eye dominant is because of all the practice they get aiming rifles in their yards."

Now that's just funny.

What a Crappy Meal!

The headline in our Log Cabin Democrat reads: "Crappie Tourney Attracts Pros and Visitors to Conway"

"For the first time in Arkansas, the Crappie Masters Ultimate Challenge One-Pole event will take place next Friday, March 26 and Saturday, March 27.

Over 160 fishermen are expected to overtake Lake Conway in the two-day event."

Let me tell you about Lake Conway. It is a man-made lake outside the city limits. Small homes have been built around a good portion of the lake, beginning back in the 50's, so most of the housing out there is pretty old. So are the building codes under which those homes were constructed, if there were any codes at all.

Now, let me tell you a little bit about Arkansas in general. It's a little (read:alot) backward. Arkansans are also a very independent lot. If they think they can build a house, even if they know absolutely nothing about construction, they will, by God, build a damn house. Whether it will withstand the test of time and building codes is another issue. Times have changed some, but that change has taken place mostly within city limits, where building codes are now routinely enforced and building contractors have been dragged, albeit kicking and screaming, into the 20th century...and yes, I know this is the 21st century.

The former owner of the property we purchased out in the country in 1994 built a chicken coop, small feed barn, dog kennel and dog runs and a shop, and we lived in the mobile home already on the property while we built our house.

About eight months after we moved into the mobile home, the sink started backing up. I knew we had a septic tank, so I called a septic service to come out and pump the septic tank. Before the guy came out, Tom dug all around the front of the yard and finally found the "cap" to the tank, a round piece of concrete with a small piece of re-bar bent over for a handle. We were ready for the pump truck.

The septic guy arrived in the early afternoon, backed his pump truck up the gravel driveway as far as he could go and dragged a long, fat hose to our septic tank and began to pump the sewage from the tank.

The smell was so bad, I had to walk away. I don't know how these guys can do this work. They are to be commended. I could never, ever do it.

"It just keeps fillin' up," the guy said after three attempts at getting to the bottom of the tank.

I watched him as he got down on his knees, steadied himself with his hands against each side of the hole and stuck his head into the tank next to the hose to assess the problem. I was holding my nose and thinking, Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus, how does he even do that?"

Long story short, there wasn't a "tank" anywhere to be found after all. The previous owner, one of those "I can do it myself, I don't need a septic company to just dig a hole" kinda guys, dug a big hole ... but a hole much smaller than a normal septic tank ... lined the sides of that hole with 3/4 inch plywood ... yes, just the sides and yes, with plywood ... then ran his sewer line from the trailer to that plywood-lined hole, capped it with a homemade cement circle and called it a septic tank. The reason it kept filling up was because our ground water was so high, it would flow back into the "tank" and partially fill it. Of course, that would also be the reason that during our first rainy season living on that property there was a horrible smell in the front yard that seemed like it was coming from the standing water in the lower areas of the yard ... "tank" overflow was overflowing and seeping up through the ground. The thought of it still makes me throw up in my mouth just a little bit.

So, you are wondering what this has to do with the Crappie Tournament and Lake Conway. Everything. You see, almost all of those homes all around Lake Conway still have septic tanks - really, really old septic tanks - if they are, like mine, "tanks" at all. The Lake Conway Conservation Committee did a study in 1999 and found that the lake had a "serious problem with septic effluent flowing into the lake." That's just another way of saying that Lake Conway is contaminated with human poop. Yet, the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission continues to stock this lake with bass, catfish, bream and crappie. And fishermen are out on the lake daily catching those bass, catfish, bream and crappie.

What do those fisherman and tournament competitors do at the end of the day? Why, they're gonna have themselves an old fashioned fish fry with their catches of the day.

Oh, yummo. Gag, hack, blechh

Sometimes You Just Gotta Laugh...

It's been a real ugly couple of weeks, but I'm slowly but surely getting my sense of humor back.

This morning while I was reading The Huffington Post, I clicked the link to the article titled, Funniest Newspaper Corrections. There are twelve references in the article, but two of them made me laugh out loud...

The first one...

The second one...

The Walmart Syndrome

I was watching the health care summit this morning. You know the one where the President, the Democrats and the Republicans are sitting down and trying to speak to each other without growling or snapping like rabid dogs.

I started watching it on MSNBC because none of the other local network television stations are carrying it. Apparently Rachel Ray, Dr. Phil and Good Afternoon Arkansas won the sweeps this week. Go figure.

Anyway, when the President was speaking into his microphone and not leaning over to a nearby ear, covering his mouth and trying to converse with his neighbor while someone else who had the floor was speaking, MSNBC coverage was there, in the moment, broadcasting every word. However, when Andrea Mitchell wasn't particularly interested in what a particular speaker had to say, MSNBC would cut the sound, move the video of the featured speaker to the corner of my television screen and Andrea would cut in and introduce someone else who was not a speaker or participant of the health care summit to give his opinion of what was transpiring. His OPINION! As if I was unable to develop an opinion of my own. Well, screw that! I grabbed the remote and started searching... Nothing on network. Voting on C-span (House of Representatives). Jokes and some other form of frivolity on C-span (Senate - yep, our senators hard at work). Not CNBC. Not Bloomberg. Jesus, is MSNBC the only one out of 800 channels carrying this??!!

I have a rule. I will not watch the ultra-conservative, frothing-at-the-mouth, hate and fear mongering Faux News. Is Fox Business the same? I don't know. I've never watched that either. But that was the only channel carrying the health care summit live AND uninterrupted. So, I broke my rule and I watched part of there and until I had to get something else done and turned it off.

No, none of the above has anything to do with the Walmart Syndrome. I promise I'll pull it all together. You'll see.

We used to live in a society where you were innocent until proven guilty. You didn't punish a kid for stealing a cookie before dinner unless he had crumbs in the corner of his mouth. You didn't ground your teenager for knocking over the potted plant until you found potting soil in between the carpet pile. You could walk into a store, browse, shop and make your purchases, go home, put on your new jeans, light the new candles and pour a glass of the nice bottle of wine you just bought. Those were the good old days.

Then things changed...dramatically. Everyone is suspect - browsers and shoppers alike. Signs like "NO LARGE PURSES OR BACKPACKS ALLOWED" assault customers in nearly every store at nearly every entrance. Well, crap! I've always carried a large purse. I have a lot of crap. What are they gonna do? Snatch my purse from arm and toss it outside?

My photo is now archived in every single store in my city, not because they think I'm cute, but because they think I will steal from them. Walmart records every move I make even before I enter their store and can replay video documenting my shopping habits, removing everything from can openers to cereal boxes from the shelves, then replacing it or putting it in my basket or, God forbid, putting it somewhere else that it doesn't belong because I've changed my mind and don't want to take the time to go back and put it where I found it. Sam's Club, another Wally World company, does the other stores even one better. You're considered so freakin' guilty that you get the shake down before you're allowed to leave the store. You can only exit Sam's Club through one door and you must be pronounced "clean" before the doors open and you are free to re-enter society. The only exit is monitored by a stern looking woman donned in a red vest wielding a large yellow highliter. You, the shopper/thief, must stop at the exit...no rolling California stop here...you must come to a complete stop or she will grab your basket and stop it for you. Snatching your receipt from your fingers, she begins to scan your basket for items, moving the loaves of bread, bags of chicken wings and boxes of canned goods to make sure there's nothing hidden [read:stolen] underneath, and quickly matching the your basket full of assorted mostly unnecessary crap with the list on your receipt. Your ticket to freedom is your receipt marked with a long wavy, yellow stripe down the middle. Not Guilty.

I think the vast majority of the Republican members of the our Congress have worked for Walmart or Sam's Club at some point in their lives and have been infected with the Walmart Syndrome.

This morning I watched Senator Eric Cantor (R-VA) voice his opposition to allowing the removal of the pre-existing condition clause insurance companies use to deny coverage to people who have previously been treated or are currently ill. His rationale? Americans are cheaters and thieves. He didn't use those words, but that is what he meant. What he said was if the insurance companies weren't "protected" by a pre-existing condition clause, people (meaning us - you and me and our families, friends and neighbors) would not purchase insurance until they were sick, then run out buy insurance to cover the treatment for the illness, then drop their insurance once they were healed or healthy and those poor, poor insurance companies would nearly go broke and the very few honest American insurance policy holders that were left would bear the brunt of the increased cost. We will steal. We will lie. We will cheat and then we will all give each other high-fives because we were shrewd enough to pull off such a great sham. We are Guilty...Guilty...Guilty.

Next thing you know, schools will be putting cameras on all their computers in order to monitor our kids private lives...

Wallet Moths

Superbowl 44 is Sunday, February 7th. That's probably the day we will have my in-laws over for dinner again, but most likely it will be a munchies-only affair. But since we will probably have Tom's folks here for the game, I thought I should at least know who will be playing.

Now don't ridicule me for my ignorance about this, but from what I can tell, we don't know yet because the teams are still playing...I think.

Anyway, as I clicked from one site to another I wound up on the NFL (yes. I know it means National Football League) site. Then, out of sheer curiosity, clicked the tickets link and (cough, cough) a small banner displayed how much the remaining individual tickets were going for. At 11:00 am today, January 19th, out of over a 76,000 seating capacity, there were only 967 tickets left.

"967 tickets available from $1898 to $180,687 each"

I figured, What the heck! Go for the most expensive tickets in the house, so I checked and, sadly, there was only one $180,687 ticket left and I'm not about to attend the game by myself, so I suppose I'll just have to pass on it this year.

The Training Will Begin Soon...

The very large, 200 lb. box that housed my new treadmill arrived yesterday. Tom maneuvered it into the house on a dolly and parked it in the middle of the hallway next to the doorway to the guest bedroom. There it sat until this morning.

When he got back from the vet's office this morning (that is another post), he removed it from the box and started assembly. It's just under an hour into it and he calls to me...

TOM: Honey
ME: Yes
TOM: We're gonna have leftover parts...

Gulp :(

I'll keep you posted