tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66790479991075953382024-03-14T02:33:29.609-07:00Go, Funky Rat, Go! Go!The Ramblings Of An Overly Analytical MindFunky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-72219872004633440612008-12-28T19:38:00.000-08:002008-12-28T19:41:03.371-08:00Tis The Season To Be BusyI'm happy to say we had a great holiday promo at work. We were all a bit concerned, but we had a better year than last year!<br /><br />We've been remodeling the house (on the landlady's dime!), and I've had precious little time between that and the 50-60 hour workweeks.<br /><br />So until I can decompress, and come up with something earth-shattering to share, here's something to ponder for all you cat parents:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.heyquiz.com/quiz/cat_kill"><img src="http://www.heyquiz.com/bimage/14_91.jpg" alt="Is your cat plotting to kill you?" /></a>Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-21053082511534854092008-10-03T19:51:00.000-07:002008-10-03T20:01:28.906-07:00Role ReversalI'm beginning to thing that I am slowly reversing roles with my parents.<br /><br />My mom has a friend. I believe that this person does value my mom's friendship, but a lot of their relationship is one sided. "Let's go shopping. Can you pick me up?". "I want to go somewhere. Can you drive?". Never "Let's meet at the parking lot because it's halfway." or "I'll drive this time and you drive next." <br /><br />I don't know what the deal is, and I really don't need to. I just know that with the cost of gas, it just doesn't seem right. When I go places with friends, we trade off driving, or chip-in for gas, etc. I remember my mom telling me ages ago that it was the polite thing to do. She grumbled at a few people I was friends with at one time or another (no one who would be reading this) who would call and want me to go somewhere but that involved my mom picking them up and taking them there. "A good friend will meet you halfway in terms of driving, paying, etc." Seems she forgot that.<br /><br />I could understand if this person didn't drive or have a 2nd car, but that's not the case. I know this person is short of money on occasion, but mom always said that if you don't have the money to contribute, don't expect others to pick up your slack.<br /><br />Next week, she will be accompanying this person to New Orleans. She wants mom's company. She wants mom's help in setting up for an event. But mom's not invited to the actual event. She can come to the after party, but that's it. She's forked over money and time for this, with little to no return. She was expected to stay in a certain hotel and buy an outfit that met with what they were trying to achieve, but can't come to the event.<br /><br />So I put on my "mom" hat and said "Jeez. Doesn't seem exactly fair, and if I was expected to fork out a lot of money, and have met with their criteria but aren't good enough to attend, then I wouldn't go. Plain and simple."<br /><br />She replied that she didn't care (but something told me that deep down she did) and she's always wanted to travel there and was looking forward to sight seeing, but I don't see that happening. I see her tied down with helping set up something she can't go to. And that sucks.<br /><br />But she's 60 now. I've imparted all the wisdom that I was told over the years. I guess we have to let them go at some point and make mistakes........ :DFunky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-67579597870294115672008-08-16T20:28:00.000-07:002008-08-17T14:27:52.607-07:00Deep Thoughts On Things......Life.......Whatnot(Life is not whatnot, and it's none of your business - an homage to my favorite movie)<br /><br />I've been bad at following through on things I wanted to do. Oh sure, I mean well. I haven't been to the gym since the end of May because of vacation, then massive hours at work. That's slowed down now, but I've gotten out of the habit of going, and that sucks. I haven't gained any weight, but I haven't lost either.<br /><br />I've been meaning to keep up better with this, but, well, see above.<br /><br />I've been meaning to do a lot of things.<br /><br />I was browsing the last few posts I made. I'm still enjoying my Beatles cartoons. I still love Warranty Direct (one of my electric windows broke while on vacation, and they took care of it!). The feud between my friend Javier and the "other faction" involved has chilled out. I enjoyed my vacation. All should be right with the world. Things should be golden - I should be happy (yes, another homage). Ah, but it's not to be.<br /><br />I had written a letter to my husband's uncle. I'm sure I've mentioned him here before. Without major explanation, he's been incarcerated in a State Correctional Institute out in western PA since 1977, I believe. In short, Ron did some things that were wrong, but he was trapped in a trial with major political implications, and he was made an example of. Life with no possibility of parole for him. Hell, even The Manson Family gets regular parole hearings. The lifers here in the Commonwealth have a saying: Life Is For-Ever. Among the people trapped in this cruel punishment are people who were as young as 17 when they accompanied an ill-advised friend to something bad, and got caught in the crosswind. Ron often said himself that yes, he did some things that were bad, and he wouldn't say he was innocent or railroaded or framed. He deserved punishment. But as someone who didn't commit the crime he was punished for (but being present while the crime was committed will hold you equally culpable under our laws), how much is enough? Ten years? Twenty? Thirty was where Ron was at. Far worse criminals don't serve that long, and are often out for good behavior.<br /><br />I wasn't feeling well last Wednesday. I had picked up a 24 hour bug going around, but I had an uneasiness going down all day. Something somewhere wasn't right. I got home, and was darting to the restroom when I noticed a "1" on the answering machine. I paused, and hit the button (because of aforementioned uneasiness). It sounded like someone wanted to say something, but hung up. It didn't sound like a salesperson or anything like that. I proceeded down the hallway, and figured I'd dig deeper in a little while. I hit the caller ID menu. Just one call - from Aunt Terri. The uneasiness creeped back, but I thought maybe it was good news, and I called.<br /><br />I tried to be cheery and hopeful. I heard an exhausted sounding "Hello" at the other end. I said "Hey Terri. I saw you called but didn't leave a message. What's up?". I heard nothing but silence, and then a sigh, followed by "Um, Ron died last night". I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. I listened numb as she explained how he and his cellmate always joked around, and his cellmate had gotten up in the night, and saw Ron was "laying funny". He thought it might be a joke, but felt uneasy about it and shook him. He was unresponsive. A number of attempts were made to revive him with no luck. They took him to a hospital and he was pronounced dead of a heart attack. He was 61.<br /><br />I tried my best to console Terri. She sounded exhausted. I asked the all-time bonehead question: "Are you OK?". She said "Um, no, not really". I told her that was incredibly stupid of me, and she said it was OK, and she needed a chuckle. We talked a bit, and she said she had to go, and she'd call with arrangements. Two minutes later, the phone rang, and it was Nelson calling to tell me he'd be late. Shades of me telling him his mother died creeped back to me. I must have subconsciously done as I did when his mom died because he kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept telling him we'd talk later. As before, he finally got it out of me. He said he almost ran the truck off the road. We'd just seen him in June. He was his usual happy self. No indications whatsoever that it would be the last time we'd see him.<br /><br />The next day, I sat at my desk in the morning, and looked over to see his letter that I had written. It was in an envelope, only needing a stamp, but I had never gotten around to mailing it. That bothered me. Why couldn't I just have taken two minutes and sent the dang thing? He loved mail, and he would never get my letter because I didn't do what I should have.<br /><br />As I finalized things Monday afternoon before leaving for his viewing down in the Lehigh Valley, I grabbed the letter and put it in my car. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. We started the long drive down, and talked about who might or might not show up, and who we might have to "deal with" while we were there. My husband's family is like the box of chocolates from Forrest Gump - you'll never know what you'll get. To say it's dysfunctional is an understatement. Most of them were horribly abused, or shuffled through the system. Many grew up to be drug addicts or alcoholics (my husband included - 11 years sober now, he doesn't even like non-alcoholic beer anymore). Most have deep-seeded animosity toward some of the others. Others still will choose up sides. A family get-together is guaranteed to get ugly at some point - that's why we often only see them at weddings and funerals. After Ron's passing, it left only one of the siblings left - an Aunt that estranged herself from many of the others long ago. I'd only been around her once - at a funeral - and Nelson's mom saw to it that we didn't go anywhere near her, as they did not get along. We wondered if she'd show up. She didn't show up at Nelson's mom's funeral, but that's because she told her at another sister's funeral that she'd better not come (so she didn't). You get the picture, and what we were thinking.<br /><br />So we got there (relatively early), and it was largely Ron's kids and grandkids there - what we expected. Nelson's step-dad was there, and we chatted with him. Not too long after, Nelson's cousin (daughter of aforementioned aunt) showed up. She and I never really got along because she was too rough with her daughter and discipline and I threatened to kick her ass once. I see nothing wrong with a swat on the rear end, but you do not pick your kids up by the armpits and shake them! And since none of the people there said anything (because they were not only treated that way but most had treated their kids that way), I made sure she knew it wasn't cool. There are other reasons I have issue with her, but I don't believe in airing all the family's dirty laundry in public, but let's just say it involves one of her kids, and that's a bad spot for me.<br /><br />I was shocked when she came up and hugged me. She talked to me like we never had issues. She then told me she had split with her husband (who was part of the problem) and I was pleased that it sounds like she's grown up a bit. I didn't see her hit any of her kids - just raise her voice, and it wasn't bad. Nelson asked if her mother was coming, and sure enough, she walked around the corner. We both jumped, because her resemblance to Nelson's mom was uncanny, and it creeped us out for a minute.<br /><br />Then the unexpected happened. Nelson said he felt the need to talk to her, and he did, and they had a rather pleasant conversation. No bickering, no blame - just healing, and that's good. She gave us her address and phone number, and told us we were welcome to visit. She even said she'd help us identify people in Nelson's mom's photos. And I say a step in the right direction is good no matter what.<br /><br />A little later, two of Nelson's late Aunt's three kids came with their kids, who were tiny the last time I saw them. I always liked the girls, and felt bad for them when their mom died so young. Their dads aren't in their lives, so they were essentially orphans in their early 20's. Problem is that Nelson's mom promised her sister she'd look after them, but took it too literally, and they finally asked her to leave them alone, and so anything we heard about his cousins was negative.<br /><br />The next morning, I noticed that Ron's letter was still in the back of my car. I told Terri, and she told me that she wanted me to give the letter to him, because it was his, and he could read it later. He had a beautiful service, and when time came to close the casket, I put the letter under his hand. Like Terri said, he'll have something to read later. There were some pictures in there too that I'm sure he'll enjoy. Nelson served as a Pall Bearer, and he had a lovely Military burial.<br /><br />At the after-service get-together, all of "us kids" (Nelson's cousins, and his brother) were chatting about the older generation, and how it's effectively kept us from knowing the family. We exchanged phone numbers, and addresses, and e-mail addresses, and agreed to keep in touch. And I mean it this time. Life is just too short.<br /><br />And if you have a letter laying around, ready to be mailed - please mail it.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-6879910745354958522008-06-27T21:16:00.000-07:002008-06-27T21:54:45.093-07:00We Love You Beatles, Oh Yes We Do.......I thank my parents for my taste in music. My mom gave me The Monkees, The Beatles, The British Invasion, and Motown. My dad gave me The Rolling Stones, Simon and Garfunkel, The Doors, and The Moody Blues.<br /><br />When I was younger, and we didn't get cable, and VCR's were around but not in many homes (we hadn't gotten one yet, plus in those early days, rental stores didn't have the selection like they have now), the chance to catch a movie on TV (especially when cable wasn't available in your area) was a gem. It's too bad kids nowadays don't know the joy of The Wizard Of Oz coming on once a year.<br /><br />Anyway, once during one of the PBS Beg-A-Thon's, they showed one of mom's favorite movies. I saw the look on her face when flipping through the TV Guide. She yells back to me "Hey - come watch a good movie with me!". I was less than 10 years old, and that usually meant it would be something I didn't like. But I was bored, and trotted out to the living room.<br /><br />The movie was "Help!".<br /><br />Mom delighted as she explained every reference I didn't understand. She talked about how much she loved The Beatles when she was in high school. She swooned over Ringo like she was still 16. In her old bedroom at her mom and dad's house, you could still see the mark on the wall where her Beatles poster had hung. Her one brother - ever the troublemaker - had come into her room and blacked out the eyes of The Fab Four with purple paint (leftover from painting her room). Mom's family was poor, so instead of getting another one, she was left to deal with her purple-eyed idols. That one evening turned me into the Beatles fan I am today.<br /><br />When they had their first real resurgence in the mid 80's (by the time I had gotten to high school), I remember the airings of The Beatles Cartoons on MTV. I had taped some when I could catch them. They were cute - not the best cartoons or animation, and the voices were done by others, but the sing-alongs were fun, and they have immense kitsch value.<br /><br />Flash forward to today. I own tons of Beatles cd's and stuff, but the cartoons eluded me. I found out they had lapsed into public domain, and scouted around for treasure. I turned up a killer set that were done on professional equipment off broadcast masters. They were expensive, but they were SO worth it.<br /><br />Nothing cures the blues from a 60 hour, 7 day workweek where you are doing work you did once before because your company is in the midst of a system conversion like a rousing sing along and pure Beatles cheesy goodness!<br /><br />Enjoy!<br /><br />(sorry for the poor sound - both the ones posted have bad sound - and incidentally, this is my favorite Beatles song)<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9vGq3YPIKH8&hl=en"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9vGq3YPIKH8&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-69755988643685370972008-06-25T16:13:00.000-07:002008-06-25T17:53:29.692-07:00And The Beat Goes OnRather than construct a long post reply, I've opted to make a new post in response to Nick, who is on the opposing side of the issue I mentioned yesterday. No yelling, no snark - just some intelligent commentary.<br /><br />First thing's first. I know I'm older than Ben, and I'm 99.9999% sure I'm older than you - perhaps by a good bit. Yes, I have issue with Ben that goes beyone the Wikipedia incident. For I have, you see, what I call my Snark-O-Meter. It goes off when I am faced with things like smarminess, cockiness, smugness, and general condicending commentary. Ben's journal is rife with it.<br /><br />I'm willing to play devil's advocate, and say that perhaps he doesn't realize that he comes across that way, but he does. And do a google search - plenty of people out there agree. Think that Javier is bad? Ever see the commentary that goes on over at Portal Of Evil's forums? Some of that stuff steps waaaay over the line, and makes even hardened BS slingers shudder in disgust.<br /><br />So just because I need to say my piece, let me just cite some examples of what sets that meter off. This is good stuff - thousands of people have paid millions of dollars for this stuff:<br /><br />1) The Protesting: I believe in protesting. It's at the core of our foundation as a country, and it's his right to do so. However, I do not listen to anyone who protests anonymously, or dresses up in silly costumes. I protested in my day, against all the things I believed in at the time: no nukes, animal testing and cruelty, Free Nelson Mandela, a woman's right to choose, make Martin Luther King Jr's birthday a national holiday, etc. I never dressed up in a silly costume. I never put on a mask, or hid my face. I never felt the need to learn tactics to fight or evade police - I was prepared to be arrested if need be, but I never fought with anyone or vandalized anything to get my point across, and I'm not saying Ben did, but those he hangs out with have, and in the real world, being there makes you a party to it. Speaking of which, be careful who you align yourself with in that regard. I was once a part of PETA and Greenpeace. When I would say that, people would just roll their eyes and no listen to anything I had to say because both groups take things too far in getting their point across. I have not given up my activism, but I align myself with more reputable groups. People will listen if you are aligned with people who present a rational and reasonable argument. For a good example of a fantastic blog written by a friend who works for improving her part of the country, I encourage you to read <a href="http://www.liprapslament-theline.blogspot.com">http://www.liprapslament-theline.blogspot.com</a>. She's intelligent, and passionate, and heaven help anyone who gets in her way when she's rolling. Lastly, educate people about what you are fighting against. I don't think Ben has educated me at all as to why he feels the way he does on any of his protests. Instead, I get the impression that he thinks that any protest is a good protest, and that he often "tags along" without knowing all the facts.<br /><br />So to recap: <br /><br /><strong>I went to the protest wearing my silly mask be cause so and so did = Snark Alert</strong><br /><em>I went to protest against third world debt because it holds developing countries in involuntary servitude = I may or may not agree, but I will not Snark</em><br /><br />2) Lappy, Compy, Big Mavica, et al: I just can't take anyone seriously who has pet names for inanimate objects, and I don't know anyone over the age of 17 that does. If he wants to write about it, fine, but don't be shocked if people over the age of 12 think it's silly, and say so.<br /><br />So to recap:<br /><br /><strong>I got out Big Mavica and uploaded the pictures to Lappy = Major Snark Alert</strong><br /><br />3) Unnecessary Commentary: let's start with the Hummer thing. For the record, I dislike Hummers too. Unless you're in the military, there's no reason that any private person needs to own one. However, I would NEVER say that because I didn't like it I was going to "run it off the road". Was that necessary? No. When speaking about a security guard in a news item he saw, Ben said "When questioned, he can't even cite what he's enforcing. Idiot. I hope his family is ashamed of him." Again, was that really necessary? No. The one where he makes the assumption about his sister's roommate's boyfriend when he'd only made one statement to him? Not necessary either. I find that before I hit the post button, I do better to re-read, and ask myself if some comments are really necessary to get my point across. If they're not, then they're gone.<br /><br />So to recap:<br /><br /><strong>Any of the above comments = the Snark is being written</strong><br /><em>I really hate Hummers - they're unnecessary for the average person = I agree<br />Get a load of the security guard - he's not well versed on regulations = He sure isn't<br />I met my sister's roomate's boyfriend - first impression wasn't much, and I hope the next meeting proves me wrong = That's happened to me too</em><br /><br />4) Lack Of Respect: I blame some of this on the generation gap. To start, it ABSOLUTELY is disrespectful to mock the Iwo Jima landing. Good men gave up their lives so Ben and his friends can have the freedom run around and play like that. But just because they can, doesn't mean they should. I'd also bet that anyone who thought that was funny doesn't have any veterans in their family or close to them. The thing I found most insulting about that photo was that they were holding up their protest-du-jour flag in place of the American flag. Right there, they have cheapened the memory of the brave men that were honored in what they were mocking, and that's wrong. The same goes with showing the "road to hell is paved by Republicans" thing. You have an absolute right to your opinion in politics, as I have mine. I rarely discuss politics because it always gets ugly, no matter who is involved. I never said I thought Bush was a great man or doing a great job, but I don't need Ben essentially telling me I'm a moron for my beliefs, because they don't match his. That's incredibly disrespectful, and will cause my eyes to glaze over and stop comprehending anything afterward, thereby negating your position.<br /><br />So to recap:<br /><br /><strong>Republicans paved the road to hell = Get Bent 2: The Wrath Of Snark</strong><br /><em>I dislike Republicans because I disagree with...... = That's ok; I disagree with Democrats because........</em><br /><br />And lastly,<br /><br />5) The Double Standard: Ben deletes the Fail video because he doesn't like it or doesn't agree, but then it's brought up that the fail video was lame because it only says Fail and nothing else. If I were to post a video (although I never would becaue pimping yourself on Youtube is something I don't believe in), and someone posted the Fail video, I wouldn't delete it. I would challenge the person to tell me why. If they did, I'd suck it up because I put myself out there for everyone to see, and criticize. If they couldn't, then I'd fire back with a Fail video of my own. No double standard there. However getting rid of it, then taunting the person because they didn't say anything other than Fail is pretty much chucking rocks at glass houses.<br /><br />No recap necessary here.<br /><br />And as for the Wikipedia issue:<br /><br />It's a non-issue at this point, and something I don't want to dredge up again, and before you say that we're being unreasonable by refusing to discuss it while you're trying to rectify it, let me explain as much as I am willing to.<br /><br />As I said, I was part of a project. It involved a number of people. That project has been permanently killed. It's dead, gone, and not coming back. The website we had is gone, and the domain has lapsed, and is available for anyone that wants it. The forum we had where we dicussed our findings went with the domain. Any e-mails, etc, were done through accounts on that domain, and so they too are gone. The group has disbanded, and anything having to do with it would go back to the "owner" of the project, and I am no longer on speaking terms with him. Furthermore, I have no desire or need to be. By working on the project, I gave him permission to use my research, so should he want to pursue the project further it in the future, that is up to him. <br /><br />So I will issue a personal thank you for the desire to rectify the situation (even years after the fact), because you at least were willing to try when others rebuffed us....repeatedly. The Wikipedia deal started the fire, but it's not what is keeping it burning. See the above noted items for the reason it keeps going all over the internet (not just at Javier's place).<br /><br />And lastly, despite being Snark-Master-Extrordinare and a Habitual Line Stepper (:D), Javier is a great person. He's one of the best friends I have, and I'm better for knowing him. He's always eager to lend a hand or a shoulder, and has given me more pep talks and "get-a-grip" speeches than people I've known for 3 times as long. My husband says he's glad that I have him around and appreciates his friendship. But he, like me, is fiercely protective of his friends and family, and will fight when needed.<br /><br />So that's my position, and like Forest Gump, that's all I have to say about that. I don't wish to debate this set of issues any further, and will not. Getting into a pissing match isn't what I want to do.<br /><br />That being said, you're always more than welcome here, and intelligent commentary is always welcome on topics I bring up.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-83894765566634489262008-06-24T17:49:00.000-07:002008-06-24T18:46:20.519-07:00The Problem With The World TodayEveryone thinks they are the most special person in the world. Sorry to break it to you, but you aren't. That's just the way it is. I don't think that way. I don't know many people my age who do.<br /><br />So where is this coming from? A friend of mine is being attacked, and since I've fought for him, and the attackers are among the above mentioned group, I have a feeling they may come looking for me through my comments.<br /><br />So since they don't like Javier's way of explaining things, maybe they'll listen to mine, and maybe it will finally sink in.<br /><br />A number of years back, I was part of a project that had a website attached, where we would post our research for those interested in the topic. After awhile, we noticed that whole verbatim bits of our research were ending up on Wikipedia, without credit being given to any of us who did the research. We promptly contacted Wikipedia (and a number of subsequent times as well). Each time, we had someone spout out Wikipedia-speak at us, and essentially nothing was done. And our work continued to be copied (without credit) each time we updated. Some of our pictures were stolen too. We finally resorted to watermarking images and stating clearly that we did not support Creative Commons. It didn't work. <br /><br />We finally traced back where this was coming from, and as usual, we were rebuffed. Only after a strongly worded letter from the person heading our project were we finally granted any type of credit, and it was just a link to our site, and a "see also". We were never credited for our work, as in "Info Courtesy Of".<br /><br />We discovered that the person responsible for all or part of our issue had his own heavily advertised website. He started it when he was younger. I imagine it was cute then. Problem is, he's grown up now, but his website is still filled with the mundane details of his day to day existence.<br /><br />Normally, we'd take a few pot-shots and let it go at that, but we discovered that this person liked to take lots of pot-shots of his own. He liked to pick at people he encountered during his day to day travels just because they didn't behave like he felt they should. He liked to fiercely pick at anyone who didn't follow his political views. He breaks laws and says it's ok, but then criticizes others for breaking laws. And my friend felt he was rife for send-up, so he started picking at his journal entries, and eventually moved it to a blog.<br /><br />Before anyone says anything, Javier is protected by Falwell vs. Hustler Magazine. It states, in short, that public figures are subject to "ridicule" and such speech is protected by the first amendment. Do I think that sometimes Javier is harsher or more graphic than he needs to be? Yes. But does he often hit the nail on the head? Absolutely.<br /><br />When I do post here, I fully understand that someone could take it and make fun of it. It happens, and I wouldn't scream about it. I can dish it, and I can take it. Problem is, the other person in question can't. He sends his friends to attack Javier, but you can't underestimate Javier. He's a fighter, and if you corner him, he'll come out swinging.<br /><br />So if I ever post pictures of my refrigerator, or discuss oozing body sores, please smack me out of it. That's stuff that no one needs to know about - at least in my opinion. In other people's world, it's fair game.<br /><br />So is it childish? Sure. But was stealing from us worse? I think so. I don't appreciate having my intellectual property stolen. If you steal my stereo, I can replace it, but stealing my intellectualy property and hard-worked research was just wrong. Not giving me credit was worse.<br /><br />I'm not getting into what was stolen. The project is kaput. The website we had is gone. It seems no one is interested in what we were working on anymore, so it will die, but until this person stops flinging insults at someone just because of the car they drive, you can bet that someone will be flinging it back at him.<br /><br />Just my two cents. And because I put it here, feel free to critique. It's your right to do so because it was my right to say it.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-21796608335195945812008-05-15T19:24:00.000-07:002008-05-15T19:57:22.350-07:00I HEART Warranty Direct!!!I'm not much one for advertsing people's stuff on here, but I gotta sing some praises here.<br /><br />I've been sucked in many times by extended warranties for various stuff. I have wasted so much money for extra protection on telephones, dvd players, stereos, etc. I'm a sucker for the sales pitch. While I rarely ever need one (in fact, I've never cashed one in to date) and they generally run out of time, never used, the one time I didn't buy one on a dvd/vcr combo, I needed it. Then I bought a replacement (sans warranty), and it died again (different brand). I finally bought a refurb from Overstock.com (their service contracts are dirt cheap - and I bought one) and I have had no problems with it. But the time I didn't buy one, I could have used it, so I'll continue to be a sucker for them unless they're incredibly outrageous.<br /><br />There are times that they are warrented - like a computer. Ok - I fibbed. Every tower computer I have ever owned has gone back at least once under the service contract, and the laptop has gone back once, but that's it. Anyway, I bought an auto warranty for the first time with my Neon. I generally don't like long-term auto financing (too much stuff goes wrong during the duration of the loan), but I had to finance it for 4 years, so I opted for 3 years, 36,000 miles. The Neon's were notorious for engine troubles. I only ever had one problem that might have been covered, but they wouldn't cover it. And the Neon is still going strong, despite being largely devoid of paint.<br /><br />So re-wind to last March, when I bought the KIA. KIA offers fantastic warranties, but not if you buy used. I got 12 months or 10,000 miles. That ran out in November, when I hit the cap on miles. We had declined the warranty that the dealer offered us. It would have added too much to my payment. I was firm in that I didn't want to finance for more than 3 years, and I wanted a payment of less than $200/month. When we divided out the cost per month, they were asking a lot for the warranty they were offering. It just wasn't worth it.<br /><br />During the time that we had a warranty, the car was in the shop for a loose heat shield (it made a rattling noise - we didn't know why), a malfunctioning panic alarm that fired at will, and some transmission noise (which turned out to be nothing). While these were minor problems and I didn't consider any of it adding up to a lemon, I slightly regretted not getting the extended warranty. That, and unlike the Neon, the KIA isn't something that Nelson, or any of his mechanic friends, can easily work on.<br /><br />In December, anticipating some nice overtime and a generous bonus, I began to shop for extended warranties. Most looked shady at best. That's when I found Warranty Direct. They came highly recommended by many auto makers who do not offer extended warranies through their company (Lexus and Porche, to name a few), and I could find only two complaints online after exhaustive searches (and the complaints I did find were unreasonable). My salesman - John Crumbliss - was fantastic, and answered every tiny annoying question I had. They require a car inspection (something I actually thought was a great idea), but they will deduct the car inspection fee off the cost of the policy. The policy covers almost everything (sans paint, tires, mufflers, stereos, window glass/windshields, brake pads and similar things like that), goes for 37 months or 37,000 miles which will more than cover my financing, and takes the car to almost 100,000 miles. Considering the travelling we do, it seemed like a good idea. It offers rental cars, and great travel interruption service. And your card will get you discounts on things the warranty doesn't cover. Total cost of the contract: around $1700. I put a nice chunk down, and pay the balance in monthly increments through December.<br /><br />I have the KIA in the shop for it's 60,000 mile maintenance. It's actually at almost 65,000 miles, but the shop neglected to tell me it was due (and noted my service records that they neglected to do so). Thank heaven for the stimulus check, as half of it went for this expensive service. It's not expensive in the context of what they do to the car, but I don't randomly have $600 laying around.<br /><br />Long story short (I know, TOO LATE), I got a call telling me that they noticed my water pump was "going bad". It's beginning to leak slowly. Parts wise it wasn't bad, but involved tearing a big chunk of the engine compartment down (so does the 60,000 mile maintenance, albeit a different part, hence the cost), so I knew labor would kill me. I got nervous for a mintue (figuring I could kiss the rest of my stimulus goodbye, which had been earmarked for vacation), then I realized that I had a warranty, and looked up online whether it was covered via Warranty Direct's website, and then gave him my contract number, and their phone number. He balked at dealing with a 3rd party company, but I assured him that they pay via credit card at time of service, so he relented.<br /><br />On a whim, I explored their site about 10 minutes later (something I hadn't really done), and I noticed my claim listed - approved and everything. They're paying almost $500 after my $100 deductible ($0 deductible plans are availble, but they cost more). I'm SO glad that I had this done now. I'd have been in a world of hurt if the car crapped out while on vacation. Granted, I do have great trip insurance with my policy, but it still would have been a real issue.<br /><br />So yay for Warranty Direct! It's already paid for 1 years worth of it's contract in one fell swoop. They get the Funky-Rat Seal Of Approval! **<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />**void where prohibited by lawFunky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-48188018879825278542008-05-08T21:49:00.001-07:002008-05-08T21:59:27.825-07:00Ebay Is Not For The Faint Of Heart........But It Is For The OpportunistWe had money put back for the upcoming trip, and we'll be good to go in that respect, but with the rising gas prices, we decided to see if we could raise a bit more. After scouring through 15 years of accumulated junk.....er......collectibles, we found that the only thing we have that is worth anything at all is......Nelson's World Wrestling Federation stuff. My friend Karen helped us sell 72 Hasbro Figures, Two Rings, and some accessories for a cool $260. The figures are going to their new home in Canada, to a collector who will hopefully take care of them as good as Nelson did. We have more things in the WWF world that we want to get rid of, but this was a good start.<br /><br />Which brings me to the subject of ebay itself. I've never sold on there, so when an ebay drop-off opened up a few miles up the road, I decided to give it a shot. I sold an antique musical instrument a few years back (which I rescued from the dumpster at school) on consignment on ebay through the local music store, and so I figured that I knew what I was in for. I was wrong.<br /><br />After being told to catalogue everything and much work, I was basically told by them that I needed to pay them an $80 non refundable listing fee, all the final value fees and Paypal fees, AND a flat 30% after all that was taken out. I politely declined, and called my friend Karen who knows how to sell on ebay. I took the photos and gave her the info, and she did the rest.<br /><br />We set a reserve - the bottom line, won't accept any less price. She started the auction at $.99, and put it up for 10 days. And we waited. And waited. And watched. Watched auctions don't bid - or at least quickly.<br /><br />By the end of the first weekend, it was up to $51. Several days went by, and I saw that it suddenly went to $150 - the reserve price. The next morning, it was back at $51 - the person who bid decided they didn't have the money, and retracted. CURSES!<br /><br />By the last day, it had hopped back up to $150. At the beginning of the last hour, it was at $207. I decided not to check again until it was done, and it stopped at $260, plus shipping (not cheap - it's a lot of stuff and takes a big box). Fine by me.<br /><br />So today, after a lot of e-mailing back and forth and setting additional shipping costs (as ours were only for the US), Karen called me tonight to tell me what we cleared after Paypal took their 3%. She said "You owe me for the listing fee - do you want me to deduct it from the proceeds?". I asked her how much. She said "Oh, it's $5.70". I said "HUH?!?!?" She double checked, and that is what it is.<br /><br />So I understand that the guy up the road is running a business, and he needs to make some profit, but jeez! A whopping $80 just to list it?? That's massive profit (don't ask me for the percentage - I suck more massively at math)!! Totally unnecessary to charge that much, ON TOP OF the final value listing and Paypal fees, and BEFORE the 30% consignment charge.<br /><br />He was a nice man, and I'm sure his wife was a nice lady, but I still can't get over the disparity. Even accounting for them to take the photos (I did well with 6, I think it was - maybe 8 at the most) it just doesn't add up. Plus, he runs a shipping business too, so he's making a healthy profit from the shipping. He even insinuated that my stuff wouldn't bring in much money. Well, I'm happy to clear what I did. It will pay for one of my hotels, freeing up some money for the ever-rising gas prices.<br /><br />Ebay drop-off? I think I'll pass.......Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-25574543641173215012008-05-08T21:19:00.000-07:002008-05-08T22:10:34.701-07:00Holy Hiatus, BatmanWell, after minutes of scratching my head, I consulted the <a href="http://www.zompist.com/excuse">Metaverse Excuse-O-Mat</a> , and I have an answer for my absence:<br /><br /><blockquote>I oh gosh-- I guess I blew it and all. What I'm trying to say is, well, my apologies. You know, sorry-issimo. Is that enough?</blockquote><br /><br />So, yeah. Winter blahs, nasty colds running concurrently, a sudden busy spurt at work, a newfound appreciation for doing the Nautilus circuit - they all work. My week is packed: Monday is for groceries, Tuesday is for the gym, Wednesday is for Bible Study, Thursday is back at the gym, Friday is for chilling, Saturday is for working (at least for now), and Sunday is for napping.<br /><br />Sometimes, I think about just walking away. Barely anyone reads this, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm a procrastinator, but not generally a quitter. Bible Study has taken a break for the summer, so I have at least one night free now. I need to make the time to do something besides complain on here.<br /><br />I see my last post was about Nelson's dad's military records. We retrieved the records in February, but they weren't a whole lot of help. We've narrowed down his Parris Island graduation month, but not his platoon number, and no one can help us without it. We're still waiting for his medals and certifcates. I had some leads on the Parris Island thing, and I need to do some follow-up. I don't like to pest, but it's been 2 months, so I think I'm ok.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />Work is exhausting. We had a push earlier this year than usual, and it's left me hopping. My job is too much for one person, but not enough for two, and it's a lousy spot to be in. Most people are understanding, but every now and again (like today), I find myself in a borderline yelling match because people can't or won't understand how things work in my end of the world. After much heated exchange today, and general unrest, I settled an issue that arose. Turns out I was right all along. I'm not a gloater - I won't run around singing "I am so smart. I am so smart. SMRT. SMRT." So frustration abounds, but we're implementing a new computer system in July, and if it makes just a few aspects of what I do easier (which is the goal), then hopefully it will be worth it.<br /><br />And I've got the big vacation on the horizon.<br /><br />I'm SO looking forward to the 10 day whirlwind through several states that starts in Cleveland and ends in Pittsburgh with a stop in Tennessee for several days. Looking forward to seeing friends and dead malling (Cleveland), looking forward to a once-in-a-lifetime experience (Tennessee), and looking forward to visiting Nelson's last remaining non-estranged family (Pittsburgh). I also got us booked - finally - in for the House Of Blues Gospel Brunch. We missed out on it last year.<br /><br />And that's just vacation #1. The second one comes later, when we return to Illinois to spend time with good friends. The internet keeps us in touch, but it's no substitute for sitting together in a restaurant, or cruising down the highway listening to Sirius Raw Dog, and then quoting it for the next few days.<br /><br />Three weeks and counting until my first change of venue. But I'm not counting......Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-52029427838082719262008-02-12T20:32:00.000-08:002008-02-12T20:40:53.005-08:00And Some Good News At Last!Last Summer, I had a post about government red tape in regards to obtaining Nelson's late dad's military records, replacement medals, etc. I never did receive anything I was asking for. I figured that I'd waited long enough, and set about trying to get help.<br /><br />I asked my cousin, at Christmas dinner, who she recommended on the local level for assistance (she once worked at the state house for a local senator). She said no one, and suggested I go national. Fine idea, but I'm lukewarm on our Representitives and Senators. The ones I liked got voted out in the last election. There was one that I had met, I liked him, and I knew his office would have helped. Instead, I was left with the person who replaced him. I groaned as I went to his website. He really pushed the veteran assistance aspect on his site, so I figured I'd give it a go.<br /><br />I was surprised to have a courteous reply quickly, and found his staff professional. They gave me instructions to fill the paperwork out differently this time, and they couriered it out for me. I received a nice letter from the Congressman (well, his staff, but still), and a copy of the letter taht was sent to the head of the department that stores the records we need.<br /><br />Today, there was a message on the answering machine from his office, informing me that they have items for us, and asking us to come and get them.<br /><br />So this is exciting! I'm hoping we got the replacement medals, the Cold War Recognition (seeing as his late dad served in Cuba during the missle crisis), and the records which show the necessary information to obtain a boot camp photo.<br /><br />We're planning on going down to retrieve what we got on Thursday. So a big kudo to our Congressman. I'm not above giving credit where it is due - especially when I had little faith going in.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-87927384708368121412008-02-09T07:23:00.000-08:002008-02-09T17:39:49.168-08:00The Final Report Is Inand it's as I feared.<br /><br />The coroner announced today that Christopher Bowman had alcohol, prescription drugs, and a few illegal drugs in his system when he died. Of course, they're also blaming his weight on it, but I'm not so sure. He'd actually lost some weight in the last few years, and while he was nowhere near his top physical condtion, he wasn't 400 pounds either.<br /><br />And of course, the yutz's who feel the need to make rude commentary on the articles are out in full force: "One less drug addict to worry about. Who's next?". Truly sad commentary on the current state of affairs.<br /><br />It's a shame that Chris was such a tortured individual, and it's more of a shame that he'll be remembered more for this than his wide array of accomplishments and contributions to the world of Men's Competitive Figure Skating.<br /><br />So in my small way, I'd like to try and keep his positive accomplishments alive. If you're a fan, you'll recognize both of these programs as some of his finest. If not, take a second to watch, and honor the memory of someone who left us way too soon.<br /><br />As I scoured for this clip, someone left a comment - a stretch of lyrics from an old favorite song that I'm going to post here because I can't say it any better myself:<br /><br />"You were there in the turnstiles with the wind at your heels<br />You stretched for the stars, and you know how it feels<br />To reach too high, too far, too soon...I saw the crescent<br />You saw the whole of the moon."<br />-The Waterboys, "The Whole of the Moon"<br /><br /><br />Rest in peace, Christopher. I truly hope you've found what you were looking for.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uuCDKDxISUM&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uuCDKDxISUM&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-59521065115312041732008-02-04T18:38:00.000-08:002008-02-04T19:53:15.580-08:00What Else Should I Be?Once again, the subject of a few previous "Deep Thoughts-esque" posts has managed to work their way back in my life. Why do I allow this person to torment me, months after I uttered my last words to them via e-mail (goodbye)? Darned if I know. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment.<br /><br />Or maybe someone is trying to tell me something.<br /><br />Forgiveness has always been a toughie for me in certain situations. While I can generally shrug off many situations - especially ones that are out of someone else's control - there are other times where I just can't say "meh - it's ok", no matter how much I'd like to (and yes, I'd like to be able to do that now).<br /><br />It's something that we've been trying to work on in counseling. I don't just have the aforementioned person to try and move out of my plane of annoyance, but several others as well. I'm moving ever so slowly there for some of the people, but not all (aforementioned person included).<br /><br />Let me backpedal a tad: Before Nelson had his current job, he was trapped in a horrifyng job. No benefits, low pay, and a lot of unfulfilled promises. He muddled through for 3 years, and then left, only to be laid off and have to go back to work for them again (the job market here isn't great). Another 3 years, and he was fried. I don't know how he lasted as long as he did - I'd have gone to the booby hatch long before. The inevitable happened, and it all came to a head one day. He said something that was taken the wrong way by his ultra-wannabe Christian bosses, and it went downhill from there. There were witnesses - the situation got blown way out of proportion, because believe me - I don't dig him out of messes. If he screws up, he needs to accept responsibility and fix it, but there were major extenuating circumstances in this case that it would take me way too long to get in to here.<br /><br />These are the same ultra-wannabe Christian people who shunned medical science and said that my husband would be better if he just gave himself to Jesus. Don't get me started....... Well, we asked our minister to accompany Nelson down there to try and appeal to her good Christian side. She said it would be ok. We decided he should return while he looked for another job, and then take his leave (but we didn't tell her this). One week later, she claimed she never said that, and that she had terminated him. When I questioned our minister (because I wasn't there), he said that she was out and out lying, and that God knew the truth, and she'd answer in the end.<br /><br />It all worked out. He was working again within two weeks, at a much better job where he is treated better, and receives good pay and benefits. After he left, she terminated another person with a medical problem, and he decided to sue - and won. So she got hers. But I continued to just loathe her. I can't stand a liar. I can't stand wanna-be Christians. I can't stand people who promise the moon but deliver squat. I refused to speak to her if I saw her, and made my share of unfriendly comments.<br /><br />Anywho, we went out to eat tonight at a local steakhouse, and guess who waddled in the door? I couldn't believe it. We both groaned. She saw me, because we made eye contact, and she looked away. After awhile, Nelson said "Are they at the salad bar?". I said they weren't, and he could make a break for it. He said "No, I want to know where they are", and he walked off. He came back with a big grin on his face.<br /><br />He said "I decided that I can be the bigger person and show them some of that forgiveness that Pastor Jim is always talking about". He's much better off now. He should actually be thanking them. The mood lifted a bit, and he was in better spirits.<br /><br />So I'm back to the person at the top of the post. I'd love to be able to just say "Thanks to you, I've made some good friends, even if everything else sucked." But I can't. I just can't. I don't want someone to come crawling to me and say "I'm SO SORRY for every wrong I committed against you, and I beg your ultimate forgiveness!". Nelson wouldn't have gotten that from his bosses even if he would have wanted it.<br /><br />A few weeks back, the aforementioned person contacted one of us that he "wronged", and said he was sorry. That person, in return, forgave him, but did vent about a few things that he felt the offender needed to work on, including apologizing to me and another person. The other person got an apology - I did not. I relayed this information, and was told that no one was surprised. Then, to top it off, the other person involved (who did get an apology) posted some current pictures for people to see, and one included the offending person. As stupid as it may sound, I was not prepared to "see" them, and in combination with some other things going on, I spent an hour in a weird emotional limbo bouncing between anger and sadness. A big thank-you to a friend who allowed me to vent, and put it somewhat to rest.<br /><br />I just couldn't understand how that person could go and spend free time hanging out with someone who treated us so badly. Who stomped on us and ignored our queries as to what was going on. Who denied any involvement in the stuff that was going on. I guess the answer is that in some respects, they are better than I am. I'm too analytical. All I can "see" is that things would be ok for a time, then they'd go right back to where they were, and we'd all be in the same boat - well, I wouldn't because apparently I'm not worthy of any attempt to rectify the situation. I will run the possible scenarios over again and again in a zillion different configurations in my head, and none turn out well. I want to scream "WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT NO GOOD WILL COME OF THIS?!?!" or "HOW QUICKLY YOU FORGET! JUST 6 MONTHS AGO THIS PERSON WAS STOMPING ALL OVER YOU!", but I don't. Just because I can't be the bigger person and get over it doesn't mean that others need to join my occasional self-imposed doldrums. The fact that I can't truly get over it is my problem, and mine alone.<br /><br />So on the way home, with my husband in a good mood in the passenger seat because he managed to find that place where he can say "screw it", this came on the radio, and while I really never cared for this group, it was appropriate, and grabbed me:<br /><br /><em>What else should I be?</em><br /><em>All apologies.</em><br /><em>What else could I say?</em><br /><em>......(verse deleted)</em><br /><em>What else could I write?</em><br /><em>I don't have the right.</em><br /><em>What else should I be?</em><br /><em>All apologies.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I wish I was like you;</em><br /><em>Easily amused.</em><br /><em>Find my nest of salt;</em><br /><em>Everything is my fault.</em><br /><em>I'll take all the blame.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>All in all is all we are.</em><br /><br />Again, maybe somebody is trying to tell me something. Would an apology really make any difference? Probably not. Do I truly need to hear it to put this one to bed? Probably not. Am I over it? Probably not. Am I getting there? Probably.<br /><br />All in all is all we are, indeed.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-57596496746428783222008-02-04T18:18:00.000-08:002008-02-04T18:38:40.613-08:00Life HappensYes indeedy do.<br /><br />I had some stuff, but it seems to have worked itself out, so I really need to put some effort in to this blog again. I miss writing here, but it's been hard to concentrate with a zillion things that needed attention.<br /><br />That, and I don't like to put forth massive negativity. I killed a blog that I had before this one by constantly venting about things. I may open it back up as my vent blog, where I can rant away, but for now, I'm trying to keep that to a minimum.<br /><br />That being said, I thought about which topic I wanted to tackle first, and I sort of had my mind made up for me, and while not necessarily a rant or vent, it's just something I feel the need to get out. On the plus side, that fact that I had to think about what to discuss first is a plus. Perhaps I'll have enough material to keep me going for a little while.<br /><br />Stay tuned.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-81011895696346459802008-01-11T06:54:00.000-08:002008-01-11T06:56:38.981-08:00I'm Really Beginning To Hate The InternetI saw a blip on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">MSN</span> this morning that grabbed my attention.<br /><br />One of my favorites from back in the days that I was HEAVILY in to figure skating has passed on.<br /><br />Christopher Bowman (affectionately called "Bowman The Showman" by his fans and colleagues) was an immensely talented person, but he lead a troubled <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">existence</span>, and was destined to crash. Figure Skating is a tough life to be in and retain your sanity. Many skaters end up involved in drugs or worse, and a number have taken their own lives. It's akin to being a child star (as Christoper was when he was small) - the constant strive for approval, and then when you reach a certain age, the public has moved on to the next big thing.<br /><br />I found the article fairly well written. I wish they would have left off the "suspected overdose" parts and the dredging up of all his past misdeeds until they know for sure what happened, but that's the way it goes in these types of things.<br /><br />What sickened me, however, is the commentary left by people below the article. It runs the gamut for predictable - "Who cares about figure skating?" "As much fun as watching paint dry.", to the disgusting - commentary about his sexual orientation in the comment that they were shocked he had a daughter (because all male skaters are ****), to the outlandish - people using this as a platform to pull the race card and other inappropriate stuff.<br /><br />Like skating or not, Christopher Bowman was a real person. He had family - his mother was a fixture on TV when he was skating. He was married at one time, and does have a daughter. He was a coach, and has students. He had friends. Imagine being close to someone, and finding out they died by seeing a blip on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Internet</span>. Then imagine scrolling to the bottom of the article and seeing the disgusting commentary down there.<br /><br />No one thinks before they post anymore, and the anonymity of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Internet</span> lets the true sickos display their anger and hatred for all the world to see. While I'm grateful for the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Internet</span> for making my life easier, and allowing me to make friends I would have never been able to make otherwise, I hate it for what it has become - a sounding board for the idiots of the world. Almost makes me wish for the days when I would have heard about this on the news, and would have been able to say a prayer for Christopher, and then move on. Now, I'll forever hear those hateful comments in my head when I think of him.<br /><br />Sad indeed.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-20958021201027394482007-12-15T22:55:00.000-08:002007-12-15T23:56:24.863-08:00Yikes! I've been away for a while!I knew it had been a while, but not two months! I have many excuses - feel free to pick one:<br /><br />In my defense, it has been a bit busy. We got a late surge at work for one department, and that kept me busy through early November, when it eased off. <br /><br />We went to Virginia to visit a friend in early November. We had a good time. We got to see a mall with fantastic 80's architecture and design elements. We stopped at a fantastic candy store (I'm such a little kid in a place like that - plus, they had jumbo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Gummi</span> Coke Bottles!) run by an older gentleman who was super-friendly. We had dinner at Don Shula's to celebrate our 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> Anniversary, where I put down the most money I ever have on a meal (don't ask). Nelson finished the "Shula Cut", and he got his name on their website, on a plaque in the lobby, a real autographed picture of Don Shula, and a few weeks later, a letter from Dave Shula. Makes up for it a bit. The steak I had was the best steak I've ever eaten in my life. I also got to go to Tyson's 1, which made me very very happy.<br /><br />We got the pendulum for the clock, and quickly found out that the clock did not work. We dropped it off with a repairman. It cost $135, but it's hanging on the wall, ticking away (and keeping me awake at night). Plus, the original pendulum turned up, which was a good thing.<br /><br />With <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hanukkah</span> being early this year, our holiday sale kicked in gear earlier than usual this fall. We have had a good season, so far. With next year being an Olympic year, I have a feeling we'll be very busy next fall. We were the last Olympic year. Insanely busy. Nelson came in to help work, and we'd work until Midnight some nights. Exhausting, but it made for a nice paycheck.<br /><br />Thanksgiving was nice. When we got out of the car at my Aunt's house, the girls were in the picture window, waving at us (they're so darn cute!). We had a nice dinner, and fun with the girls (who again got goodies from us). Then over the weekend, we had to send the laptop back (it died - which has contributed to my absence - I can't get motivated to work in the spare room anymore - I'm spoiled), and then we accompanied a friend on a double/blind date. It was a nephew of my mom's friend. They were convinced they'd get along famously. They were wrong. He was a nice guy, but the two couldn't have been farther apart in terms of interests. It's a shame, because he was smitten with her, but when there's no connection, there's not much point. Plus, then I feel bad because I nudged for this (I hadn't met the guy previously).<br /><br />We've returned to church, which is a good thing. I missed going. It gives me the ability to try and let go of the junk that happens during the week. Pastor Jim is a fantastic speaker, and has a knack to reach you when you least expect it.<br /><br />We had lunch with Grammy at the "facility" (they don't like the term "nursing home"). It was less than what we'd pay in a restaurant, the meal was good, and it made me happy to see that she gets fed well. She was good that day. She repeated herself a lot, but she was in good spirits.<br /><br />I've been putting in 11 hour days most days recently, and half days on Saturday. Today was the lone exception, and I'm a bit <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">embarrassed</span> to say that I did absolutely nothing. In my "spare" time, we've been getting our Christmas shopping done. We're not doing much for Christmas this year. We've decided to pool our money and purchase an extended warranty for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kia</span>. I did my homework when we bought it, but I didn't realize how much electronic stuff was in there, which gets costly. It will extend my warranty until after my loan is paid, which is what I want.<br /><br />I set foot in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Grammy's</span> house for what will most likely be the last time. It's been sold. They got a nice amount for it, and her care will be covered for a long time. It seemed so strange. The house was empty. The furniture all gone. The only thing left in the kitchen was the stove and the cabinets. I've never ever seen it empty. Nothing on the walls. The heat was off and it was cold. There were a few things left for a charity store to pick-up, and a box of things for my uncle that we'll have to store until he can return from Oklahoma to retrieve them. Yet Grammy thinks she'll still be going home soon. No, we're not going to tell her........<br /><br />But the laptop is back now, and hopefully so will I.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-71310275336351168792007-10-14T14:05:00.000-07:002007-10-14T14:48:04.476-07:00"I Feel The Moments Hurry On.....What was today has died away and now it is forever gone" - Early Morning Blues And Greens (The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Monkees</span>)<br /><br />Birthdays don't usually depress me. Another year gone? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Meh</span>......<br /><br />As I have done in the past (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">more so</span> when I was younger), I shared my birthday with Grammy. Her birthday was on Monday. She was 87. My cousins were up with the two great-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">grand kids</span> that live within a reasonable distance (Northern Virginia). Sadly, the others live in Oklahoma - all 9 of them (I think that was the last count - maybe 8). I don't get to see the girls as often as I'd like to (they are still little, and not to the point where they remember me when I see them), and I made sure they both got a nice <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">goodie</span> bag from us. Fun to spoil them, then send them home with mom and dad (insert evil smiley).<br /><br />I wasn't thrilled about trying to spend the day at a local restaurant that is incredibly popular, but a tad overpriced and overrated in my book. However, Grammy loves to eat there, so it's the destination when we're taking her out. On the way up, I even told Nelson I wasn't sure that this was the best way to spend my birthday, in theory, but I was happy to see the girls, and I wasn't sure whether this would be the last birthday we had with Grammy. Nelson said he doubted it (Grammy is in great physical health - it's her mind that is going) but I corrected myself to say that it would likely be the last birthday we had that she would know a little what was going on. He agreed. She's just fading so fast that it's frightening.<br /><br />When we got to the restaurant, my Aunt called me over, and told me that she found a ceramic canister that I gave Grammy for Christmas about 3 years ago. It still had the candy inside it. She just put it in the closet, and forgot about it. It made us realize that this went back longer and deeper than any of us even thought. Every weekend has been spent by members of my family up at her house, painting and making repairs, and cleaning/cataloging things. We've yet to find the pocket watch that Nelson gave Pappy for his 80<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">th</span> birthday. I don't want to ask Grammy - I doubt she'd even know, plus she thinks that she'll be going back to her house soon. We're not sue whether he might have been buried with it (Grammy handled all those arrangements). He so loved that watch. I gave everyone pictures of a watch that looked like it, and asked them to save it should they find it.<br /><br />I picked up her washer, dryer, microwave, and refrigerator. I needed appliances, and my Uncle took $50 for all of it, which goes in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Grammy's</span> fund to pay for her assisted living. Most of them are almost new. Still, I felt guilty. The realtor said to take them - whoever buys the house will supply their own appliances. Last thing I did before leaving was remove the Cuckoo Clock I bought her and Pappy for their 50<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span> anniversary, back in 1989. I bought it at Willy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Neef's</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Triburg</span>, Germany and had it shipped back. Broke my heart to take it, but I didn't want anything to happen to it.<br /><br />Of course, I get it home, hang it, and realize the pendulum is missing. It's not anywhere to be found, and I didn't check to see if it was even on there when we took it. It could have been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">missing</span> already - I only checked for the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">pine cones</span>. I ordered a replacement, and can't wait until I can fire it up -I hope it works.<br /><br />Grammy didn't look real good today. She looked confused. Bit by bit, my mom and dad sneak things in to her apartment from her house. I don't know if that's doing it, or if the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Alzheimer's</span> is just progressing at a more rapid rate. I keep telling myself that she's better off where she is. After all, when I cleaned out her refrigerator (I tried to throw out as little as possible, and I kept the things that were still usable - she taught me well), I found 3 year old meat in her freezer. It's frightening to me that she might have tried to eat that. Did she do that and was that what made her sick that day that she fell and ended up in the hospital? The last day she would see her house, back in April? We'll never know. Where she is now, she's looked after, and she likes the people there, but she is waiting to go home. She's convinced that she hurt herself working (she even mentions the last job she had as being where she got hurt) and that she's waiting to be released to go back to work. It just kills me to hear her talk like that.<br /><br />I whine about it. I say that it's just not fair. But I guess life isn't fair. I could stomach her passing by just going to sleep and not waking up. I hate myself for half wishing that Jesus would call her home to my Pappy and the still born son she had before she loses her mind completely. I'm selfish like that. I don't want to watch her deteriorate beyond recognition. That's more than I could handle. She deserves so much better than that. She tirelessly gave us all she had, and asked nothing in return. It just isn't right, and I struggle with my faith in that arena. I know that God wouldn't have her suffer needlessly, but I'm just not seeing his plan in all of this. I just see my Grammy fading away, and an empty shell taking her place.<br /><br />I gave her gift to her. I bought her a wireless light switch. She can hook her lamp up to it, and take the switch to her bed, or anywhere in her apartment if she needs it. She just looked at the bag it was in, and didn't seem to know what to do with it. I could see her struggling, so I just said "You can open it later if you like". She said she'd do that, and then seemed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ok</span>. I didn't want to take her dignity by opening it for her. She apologized over and over for not having a card for me. I told her not to worry.<br /><br />All in all, it was a good day. I got a great CD set. My cousins <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">embarrassed</span> me by having the restaurant bring me and Grammy each a small cake and singing. I just had a checkup, and I am in good health - better than I've been in years. My weight loss has started back up again. I just wish I had Grammy back. It's what I wished for when I blew out my candle, but I know it won't happen. I just figured it couldn't hurt.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-49902089168475032452007-09-23T21:01:00.000-07:002007-09-23T22:17:56.691-07:00"Are You Blogging?"I heard this last night, as I was typing away, replying to a PM left by a friend at a message board.<br /><br />"Huh?", I said.<br />Nelson says "I said, are you blogging?".<br />Me: "Nope. Just replying to a PM."<br />Him: "A what?"<br />Me: "A private message, left for me by (insert name here - someone he knows)"<br />Him: "Oh. I wasn't sure."<br />Me: "That's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>. I should put something up, but I don't know what. Since you brought it up, any suggestions? What did you think I was blogging about?"<br />Him: "I thought maybe you were blogging about football." (as the game chugs on in the background)<br />Me: "I appreciate the suggestion, however I don't have much to say about football - but thanks for trying."<br /><br />I don't much care for football. This was made worse by my tenure in the band in middle school, high school, and college. As a sport, it doesn't hold my interest. I rate it higher than golf, tennis, basketball, and baseball on the interest-o-meter, but not by much. It does, however, rate much higher than <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NASCAR</span>.<br /><br />I just really am not much in to sports as a whole. I do enjoy Ice Hockey - it manages to hold my interest. I also enjoy figure <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">skating</span>. When I myself was skating, I was much more in to it, but I haven't been hardcore in to it in years. I just haven't found anyone I can really get behind in the last few years. When the next Brian <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Boitano</span> comes along, maybe I'll change my mind. I adore the Olympics, but probably more for the ideals they stand for. When they're on, nothing else is at my house. I have a good functioning knowledge of amateur wrestling, but I need to know that for my job. As an aside, I have very minimal knowledge on certain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cheerleading</span> and gymnastics regs for the same reason.<br /><br />For all intents and purposes, I am a football widow. There was a time when he only watched NFL. He used to tell me "Hey, be glad I'm not in to college football". That, however, was just a matter of time. I didn't think Sundays would be too bad when we first met, because we can't get a whole lot farther away than the team he roots for, so there wouldn't be a lot of games to sit through, but that never mattered. We had to watch this game because it was important if they won or lost. Another game didn't matter in that respect, but we watch because it's football, and it's on. Now my Saturdays are tied up too. He roots for a team that is frequently on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">tv</span>, so no dodge <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ther</span>, and with the complex <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">BCS</span> rankings thingy, all games are important. When he's in full effect of football <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">withdrawal</span>, he goes to......Arena Football. No disrespect for people who enjoy it - please feel free to do so - but it makes me wish for regular football back.<br /><br />I usually find something to do to keep my occupied while the games are on, and last night was no different. One thing we do enjoy together, however, is ranking on what should be loosely termed as "Color Commentator Teams". Our favorite target is John Madden. Words fail me to describe him. He's all circular talk, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Telestrator</span> play, and Brett <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Favre</span> references. We both adore Frank <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Caliendo</span> (You Tube him sometime) and his dead-on take on Madden ("Brett <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Favre</span> could lose both arms and both legs and he'd still be the best torso in football!").<br /><br />Anyway, the commentary team that was on the game we were watching (don't remember who - it was college - that's all I remember) is one that he particularly doesn't like. There are two people in the group that seem to be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ok</span>, but one who just has absolutely no clue, and he seems to speak the most. He made a lot of glaring errors, and strange comments. As I have my head buried in my laptop, working on another part of the PM chain that was going on last night, I hear something that should never EVER come up during a football game (or anywhere else at this point in time anymore):<br /><br />Weird Dude: "Hey! What the heck is Britney doing?"<br />Normal Commentator: "Who?"<br />Weird Dude: "Britney! What in the heck is she doing anymore?"<br />Other Normal Commentator: "Britney who?"<br />Weird Dude: "Britney Spears, of course! What's the deal with her lately?"<br />Normal Commentator: "Why do we care?"<br /><br />THANK YOU NORMAL COMMENTATOR! And apparently we weren't the only ones who thought that Saturday Night College Football wasn't the appropriate place to bring up Britney Spears, as they hurriedly cut to commercial, and then never mentioned it again.<br /><br />And on another note.......<br /><br />College Football is an animal all it's own, and one I don't think I'll ever fully get. I can understand why people get hyped up about their Alma Maters (GO <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">YSU</span> PENGUINS!!) but around here, Penn State is a religion, and I know very few people who have actually gone there. My cousin, a co-worker - that's all I can think of. They are fanatics, but I understand. The remainder of the people who live around here? Not so much.<br /><br />We fly the Buckeye flag (two of them, in fact) in front of our house. We have our reasons. A lot of them have to do with the fact that we are fans of their coach (going back to his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">YSU</span> days - I've met Jim <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Tressel</span>, and he's a great guy). Apparently, that's not cool around here. Apparently there's an 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">th</span> Commandment that states "Thou Shalt Root For Penn State" that I'm not aware of. The topic has been brought up in church. We've had people refuse to wait on us in stores. I'm serious. People: there are more important things in this world. Seriously. Church is not the place to air a football rivalry. But that's enough of that.<br /><br />Wow. I guess I managed, in my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">rambly</span> and disjointed way, to actually blog about football.<br /><br />This one is for you, honey.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-54932401453754528902007-09-14T10:47:00.000-07:002007-09-14T11:06:14.753-07:00I Never Thought I'd Find Myself Agreeing With OprahBut I think she has hit the nail on the head with this one:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20773318/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20773318/</a><br /><br />First off, let me say that I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sympathize</span> with both the Brown and Goldman families. My heart goes out to them. In a million years, I couldn't imagine what they are going through. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.<br /><br />That being said, my personal opinion is that the Goldman family needs to start healing. Holding in all this hate isn't doing them any good. Mr. Goldman has been quoted as saying that he hasn't slept since his son was murdered. I can understand that. I just can't understand how he can, in good conscience, release this book.<br /><br />When I see Mr. Goldman decrying the publication of this book, and then choosing to publish it himself, calling it gratifying that he was able to "snatch it away" from OJ makes me look at him with a hypocritical eye. Why was it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ok</span> in one instance, then not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span> in the next? Ye <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">olde</span> double standard strikes again.<br /><br /><br />I was a bit puzzled when Mr. Goldman was just so passionate about it not being published. Under the Son Of Sam laws (and OJ was convicted in civil court, so I would think that would count), he should have been able to funnel all of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">OJ's</span> potential profit toward the $30+ million judgement that I'm sure he has come nowhere near fulfilling. Instead, he will pocket the profits. Not to defend OJ in the slightest, but will he put any of the profits toward satisfying that judgement? Share any with the Brown family, or Nicole's children? I doubt it.<br /><br />Instead, it's just something else for Mr. Goldman to be angry about. I shook my head when he said he wanted to buy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">OJ's</span> Heisman himself just so he could smash it. I shook it just as much when he bragged about snatching the book away from OJ. It's the same thing. The Brown family has been more cool and collected. They also decried the publication of the book, but they disagree vehemently with the Goldman family and their decision.<br /><br />Sadly, there is nothing, I repeat NOTHING in the world that can bring these two people back. In my heart of hearts, I believe OJ did it, but that he had help - I just don't think he's smart enough to pull it off himself. I also think he was deserving of having that judgement levied against him. The Goldman family had an opportunity to have more put to that judgement, but they chose not to. If satisfying it would give them some type of closure, it won't happen in their lifetime - they'll see to that themselves that they can hold it over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">OJ's</span> head until he dies.<br /><br /><br />Again, I'm NOT defending OJ in the slightest, but I'm just confused as to why rational human beings wouldn't want to try and end this so they could move forward with their lives. You won't sleep until you let go of some of this hate. I don't think your loved one would want you to be acting like this in his name. I could be wrong, but I know I wouldn't want it in my name.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-54668107048995297582007-09-12T11:20:00.000-07:002007-09-12T11:23:06.428-07:00Just Say No To HotlinksHas this ever happened to anyone else? Or am I just a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">schlub</span>?<br /><br />I belong to a small, relatively private forum. We have a good time. A number of people were posting old local commercials. I went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">youtube</span>, looking for a number of oldies but goodies that I remember. I didn't manage to turn any up, but I did find one that I vividly remembered from my time in Northeast Ohio.<br /><br />It was for a nursing home. The TV played it to death. It was constantly on. The woman who "narrated" the commercial looked somewhat like my roommate at the time. She walked through the commercial, very stiff and wooden, speaking slightly stilted, like she was reading a cue card. They talked about the luxury of their home, and how happy it was. The old people looked happy enough, but the whole thing was kind of laughable. On an off-note, this nursing home is still up and running - has been for a long time, and they get good marks from the state, so it's not "the crooked home from 60 Minutes" (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ala</span> The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Simpsons</span>), but perhaps you "had to be there" to find this commercial <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">humorous</span>.<br /><br />Anyway, it was a reply to the post that got me to start digging. I wanted to see if they were still in business (hence I found the information mentioned above), and if I could find current pictures (no dice). It was then I saw a link to a report in the local newspaper, and thought I'd take a gander. I had misread the blip appearing on Google - I thought someone had walked away from the home, but it was different, and worse than that.<br /><br />They told the story of an elderly man. His wife lived at the home. He came everyday for dinner, and then sat at her bedside. One day, she got sick, and they rushed her off to the local hospital. He followed in his car. He stayed at the hospital, and then left when visiting hours were over. His wife went back to the home, but he did not. He never returned. He never showed up for dinner at the home again. The article said the people at the home were concerned, and said that the last time he came in, he appeared a little confused. I began feverishly googling for this man. What became of him? Why did he just disappear? I found an obituary for a man with a similar name, but he died in another state. Then I found the follow-up article.<br /><br />Turns out the man in the obituary was indeed the man I was looking for. His car was found down over the bank on a logging road TWO STATES AWAY. They think he got disoriented some time after he left the hospital, and ended up on this road that was like 250 miles from his home. They found him, deceased, outside his car. They think he was trying to find help. They believe he died from exposure to the cold. Just having had my grandmother diagnosed with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Alzheimer's</span> (who is in assisted living), it's an absolutely frightening thought, and I feel so sorry for his family.<br /><br />But aside from the sadness, this is not the first time I started out doing a simple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">google</span> search, and ended up off on a wild tangent, looking for something else, and in this case ending up bumming for the night, or more commonly up until 3am looking at the computer. I should just say no to hotlinks not directly pertaining to what I'm looking for. Will I learn any time soon? Nope. I've found some cool stuff just roaming around. This one, unfortunately, didn't have a happy ending.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-56864108908428432082007-09-10T11:55:00.000-07:002007-09-10T16:04:02.425-07:00"You'll Never Look At Music The Same Way Again"<em>-Original MTV Teaser Line</em><br /><br />I haven't watched the MTV Awards, in total or earnest, since 1988. Seriously. That's the last time that I cared about it. I briefly tuned in a few years back to see Duran Duran pick up a lifetime achievement award, and due to technical difficulties, it ended up being a real bust.<br /><br />I taped the whole evening back in 1988 (still have the tape, too). It was a good evening. Started out with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">everyone's</span> (well, mine at least) favorite game show, Remote Control. They had a contest, and the winner got to be on Remote Control, and then go to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">VMA's</span> afterward. They had a one-hour show where it showed this guy trying to get to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">VMA's</span> with Colin Quinn and Ken <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Ober</span> (I think - it's been a long time).<br /><br />Then they had the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">VMA's</span>. The big winner was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">INXS</span>, winning a lot of awards for "I Need You Tonight". I seem to remember Guns 'N Roses singing "Welcome To The Jungle". The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">VJ's</span> (when they were still good) were out in full force. It was the typical, glamorous MTV evening. The tape wraps up with Adam Curry in the bathroom (the only quiet place in the building) to recap the winners by showing the videos that took awards. What's not to love? I was about a month shy of turning 15. It was sheer heaven for me.<br /><br />Then it all started to change.<br /><br />Remote Control was no longer as fun as it once was. Music started to change. By 1989, there was a surge of hair metal - something I never could stomach, and the roots of what would later become grunge were starting to take hold. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Metallica</span> was finding a strong presence for their dark music. Groups that I liked were slowly fading away, or weren't turning out videos like they once had. There was a change in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">VJ's</span>. MTV also first made the initial turn to being largely scheduled programming, as opposed to showing videos. To quote a favorite movie, "I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">preminiced</span> no return of the salad days". Gasp - I started watching more......<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">VH</span>-1! (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">shhh</span> - don't tell)<br /><br />The daily viewings of "Yo! MTV Raps" ceased in the summer of 1989. I would enjoy hip-hop for a few more years, but rap was beginning to drift from the Old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Skool</span> that I loved so much. I stopped watching Club MTV around the same time. It had grown stale. I started watching <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Headbanger's</span> Ball in 1992, when I met Nelson. He had been with it from the beginning, when Adam Curry and Kevin Seal were hosting. Then Ricki <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Rachtman</span> took over. We stuck with it until the bitter end, in 1995. By that time, it was sucking large. We groaned every time that Rob Zombie came on to paint the walls. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Beavis</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Butthead</span> were canceled in 1997, and that ended my MTV watching days, until The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Osbournes</span> were picked -up, and then we watched only long enough to catch the episode. And so, I bid Adieu to MTV - a mere shell of it's former, glorious self.<br /><br />I was a true MTV junkie. I couldn't wait to get it on when I got home from school. I was glued to each World Premiere. When we finally got cable, we were on a different system from the kids I went to school with, and thus I was the only one who got MTV. For a while, everyone was jealous.<br /><br />So what brought back all this waxing nostalgic? Last night's train-wreck. I'd heard the awards were on, but had no interest in watching. I saw the clip on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">MSN</span> page about Britney Spears being nothing short of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">embarrassing</span>, and it sparked a thread on a forum I belong to. I listed my reasons for disillusionment with MTV, and the current state of the music industry in general. That brought up an interesting MTV discussion with some good points by a good friend of mine:<br /><br /><blockquote><p>I think a big part of the problem with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">VMA's</span> is what MTV started out as, and what it has become in the last 25 years. </p><p>MTV was "cool" when it started out, back before everything in the entertainment industry went completely corporate. If you were a new artist and MTV and played your video, chances are you were going to be huge. I may be remembering this incorrectly, but I'm pretty sure MTV essentially made Madonna. It was a network for the younger generation, irreverent and sort of anti-authoritarian. I think the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">VMA's</span> started out the same way -- a hip, cool awards show that was everything the old, stodgy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Grammy's</span> weren't. </p><p>But over the years it seems like the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">VMA's</span> have become another established corporate awards show -- just like the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Grammy's</span>. MTV is nothing more than a set of offices at CBS/Viacom, and instead of being run by people who love music and know what's "cool", it's being run by recent college graduates who are simply chasing ratings and ad revenue. Their idea of "programming" is trying to capitalize on whatever the 18-34 demographic thinks is cool. </p><p>So in reality, MTV sold it's soul to the almighty dollar a long time ago. And because of that, I would say that MTV is essentially irrelevant today -- just another cable channel that used to be about music but somewhere along the line decided that crappy reality shows starring Ashley Simpson get better ratings. </p><p>Not helping at all is the sorry state of the music industry, where there are very few legitimate "stars" or even people with any demonstrable talent. Just a bunch of bands and pop stars created and manufactured by record labels, many of whom don't stick around long enough for anyone to care about them. And even a lot of the big names are "stars" only because they're on TV a lot, or because the kids think<br />they're "cool" -- not because they have any actual talent. </p></blockquote><span class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span>. I get it now. It took the above to hit me with a wake-up call. While MTV has changed their format (and not for the better), I have simply outgrown it. Like it or not, I'm no longer their target demographic. I have officially become middle aged. I guess it was bound to happen. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go watch some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">VH</span>-1............Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-37593947742704474282007-09-05T11:24:00.000-07:002007-09-05T11:27:12.848-07:00To All The People I've Run Into In The Last Few DaysThank you so much for trying to ruin my vacation! I say "try", because as hard as you pushed, we managed to push back harder and eventually get it evened out, but there was a lot of tense moments and complaining that did not need to happen. Let me preface this by saying that this does NOT apply to my friends and family - I have yet to see them fall in to this category. If you, however, see any of yourself in this, perhaps it's time for a heart-to-heart.<br /><br />I'd first like to thank the parents of the two toddlers at the National Historical site - the ones with the heavy-duty anglo-saxon names. What a joy your kids were. For starters, I can't imagine why the thought that the kids would enjoy something like that ever seemed like a good idea. Their constant screaming and whining and throwing themselves down on the ground should have been the first red flag. Thanks so much for the entertainment of having to follow them around while they pitched a constant fit. How great it was to have them run around, being disruptive and destructive. And what fine role models you must be. The sign says "NO SMOKING"? Heck, that doesn't apply to you - just go for it. Let's forget for just a moment that you are surrounded by woodlands and highly combustible buildings hundreds of years old. Heck, I'd have respect for you as you threatened me and started counting (only to not do anything to back that up), cigarette hanging out of the corner of your mouth....... You owe me the cost of 3 admissions, plus something for aggrivation.<br /><br />A follow-up kudo goes to the guy who took the toddler in to the high-cost gift shop, only to have the child accidentally destroy some stuff, and then take off without owning up to it - another fantastic role model. Why teach the kid to take responsibility for their actions? I'm not saying that the little one meant to do it - which just proves my point that perhaps taking them in there in the first place wasn't a good idea - but what a great opportunity to teach them that even if it is an accident, you have to make things right. Instead, you reinforced the notion that the current generation already runs rampant with that NOTHING is their fault. So let's instead blame the people who run the gift shop (in an effort to help fund the site) for putting out breakable things. How dare they?<br /><br />My second big thanks goes to the parents of the "tween" at another place we stopped. How wise of you to buy your kid the sneakers that have those stupid little wheels in them. For starters, they're dangerous to the kids. Second, the kids use them at totally inappropriate times. It's no wonder that so many public places have banned them. I would be surprised if this place hadn't, but then again, following the rules is too much to ask for some people. Your kid thought it would be fun to wheel around (without being under your supervision) and when they ran into someone who was minding their own business, rather than just going on their way, they decided to make an issue out of it. Rather than just letting it drop or admitting they shouldn't have been doing what they were doing , they turned a simple reflex of putting a hand up to try and brace for an impact in to a "hit". Embarassed, the kid probably stomped off, found the parents, and fibbed that the person hit him, for attention or effect (the fact that they were tooling around on wheels in a busy public place tells me it's an attention thing). We were all kids. We've all done this. Problem is, my mom would not have believed me had I been making it up. She had that way of getting to the truth. Furthermore, she wouldn't have allowed me to get away with it without apologizing to the person I bumped into. She wouldn't have gotten into a screaming match with the person who was the innocent bystander in all of this. She wouldn't have lectured them. She wouldn't have continued screaming long after the other person walked away, not wanting to fan the flames further. I know the innocent party. They used to teach small children and they mentor abused children who were removed from their homes. They were an abused child themselves - they don't hit children. Perhaps you need to tell your kid the difference between right and wrong, and that lying is a bad thing that can get innocent people in trouble. In other words, TELL THE TRUTH. You owe me the cost of admission for 4 people, and the cost of 2 sets of cab fare for running out and back to this site, and big-time for having to watch your tirade.<br /><br />A side thanks goes to all the reckless baby stroller operators out there. I'm sure your 3 month old baby woke up in the morning and begged you to take them to the museum, fair, etc. How fun for the kids to have to be shuttled around all day to things they can't comprehend. How great for them to be banged around all day when you continually push the stroller in to other people. I'm not saying you can't take the babies out, but how about something more age-appropriate? If you want to go, try a babysitter, and go by yourselves.<br /><br />My last big thanks goes to the people who just can't resist showing off their vast knowledge in public - whether you want it or not. Thanks so much to the people who stood behind me at a display, telling me ahead of time what all was going to happen. I guess the fact that I hadn't seen it before didn't occur to you, or it did but you just didn't care. I also appreciate it when you take the time to tell me how you've seen this before, but it was someplace else, and it was much nicer. Not content with letting it drop after we asked you to stop telling us about it before we've seen it, you had to then go accost someone else in my party at another display and proceed to start all over again. I'd demand my admission back, but I'm already getting it from the lying tween, so I'll just take your promise to stop doing that - ever again.<br /><br />I'm not anti-kid. Not at all. But I am anti-bad behavior, and there's so much of it out there, and not just from kids - you adults do your fair share too, and in all honesty, the kids just don't come into the world behaving badly. There was an excellent article on MSN once about how we're doing the current generation no service by holding them blameless or everything, but apparently, no one has read it. Also, apparently no one watches shows like "Shalom In The Home" where they show that kids want, need, and respect boundaries, and that they really want parents - not pals. That's been proven time and again - it's a shame no one listens.<br /><br />I'm sure I'll get the usual hate mail. I've been told that since I don't have kids (the good lord did not bless me in that way), I'm not allowed an opinion where they are concerned, but that's crap. If I'm forced to have to spend time with them, then I'm allowed an opinion. Besides, as I've said before, the kids get the bad behavior from somewhere............Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-22194072116258531942007-08-13T12:29:00.000-07:002007-08-13T13:06:58.946-07:00Brick Walls, Frustration, and Red TapeI'm trapped in Government limbo. It's a place that should be reserved for the most evil of society, but I'm doomed to stay here until who -knows-when. This all started back in April.<br /><br />Nelson's step-dad (Ray) brought up some of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nelson's</span> dad's (George) military records. His honorable discharge from the Marines, etc. It wasn't a whole lot to go by, but it gave us an interesting glimpse in to a part of George's life that by all accounts he really didn't speak much about.<br /><br />We learned that he went in to the Marines when he was 18. We learned that he hadn't graduated High School (not uncommon in the early 60's), so the Marine Corps helped him get his diploma. He was a Private, First Class. He was a sharpshooter. He'd spent over one year in service abroad, although it didn't say where (we had been told <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Viet</span>-Nam and Cuba by a number of people). When he was done with his service, he spent two years in the reserves. He received several medals and awards, including a good conduct medal and a sharpshooters medal. By all accounts, he loved to hunt and was an excellent hunter, so this would all make sense. Nice to tie up loose ends. As we were setting up the various pieces of the entertainment center, we put George's casket flag, a Marine bear, and a US flag on top of one of them. It looked very nice. Nelson said "I wonder if there would be any way that we could find one of dad's service pictures?". And so it began......<br /><br /><br />I contacted the Marine HQ in Washington DC. They were speedy, and very helpful. They directed me to the offices I could contact for one of his photos. Problem is, it all depended on where he went to boot camp. I replied to the Marines about that, and they said there was really no way to tell me where he went. Since he was inducted East of the Mississippi, it was most likely he ended up at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Parris</span> Island. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">OK</span>, I'll start there. I tried calling the office repeatedly, but no one ever answered. I tried calling their family office, and they kept <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">referring</span> me to the VA. Well, the VA can't help because he's deceased. They offered me counseling, but I politely declined.<br /><br /><br />Finally, I reached someone at the photo office. She said yes, she could get me a photo, but it would be a Platoon photo. Fine with us - anything is better than nothing. She said that all she needed was a Platoon number. Brick wall. I had his DD214 (official separation document) but his boot camp platoon number is nowhere to be found. She said that recruits will send home a postcard with all their info on it. No earthly clue where that would be - he was in and out before he married my late mother-in-law.<br /><br />She said that all photos are negatives stored in a huge facility by platoon number. She said that she could also really use the graduation date (we could narrow it down to a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">time frame</span> of about 4 months) and a Drill Sergeant, but could do nothing at all without the platoon number. She directed me on how to contact the government for his records. It was a website. I was happy to see that. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">trudged</span> through all the paperwork, only to find out that you had to mail it in, and that likely what they would provide you with was a DD214, which I already have. I requested anything other than his DD214 or Honorable Discharge because I already had them - especially anything with his platoon number on it. But here's the kicker: if no one has that, how can we ever find him? He's been deceased for 25 years. There's nowhere to go if the Marines can't dig it up.<br /><br /><br />We also found, in our travels, that we can apply for replacements for all his medals/ribbons/commendations, etc. We also have no idea where any of this went. Again, it was off with the paperwork which has to be mailed to a different address. Couldn't be easy - heck no.<br />I did contact the recruiting office that he likely went through (or the closest one). They were nice, and tried to help, but a new recruit came through the door while I was speaking to him. I asked if it was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">OK</span> if I faxed down the paperwork, and he said that would be fine. He never called back.<br /><br />I found some people at Leatherneck Magazine who were very helpful. They'll be running an ad in their next magazine, and hopefully we can find someone who served with him. He was part of a large regiment. Hopefully there is someone out there who knew him.<br />Then, I found out that he's eligible for another commendation that he can receive posthumously. This one had a website to apply for it. Great! Then I found out the government took it down, and everything has to be done by......mail. The government moves at the speed of an injured snail. Who knows if we'll ever see any of this.<br /><br /><br />I tried contacting my congressmen. No dice. Their websites all say "for copies of military records, contact the national archives at.....". Yeah, I already did that. There's got to be a better way out there somewhere. You'd think that they'd be jumping at the chance to assist the family of a deceased veteran. Don't get me wrong - I've been receiving <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">courteous</span> replies everywhere I turn, but the system of red tape and uncertainty just stinks.<br /><br />I think I'm going to keep looking for some assistance. Hopefully someone out there knows a better way to do this.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-39428559759099542282007-08-09T09:15:00.000-07:002007-08-09T10:45:42.892-07:00I'm Not Just A Member, I'm Also The PresidentI try not to gripe too much on my blog. I sort of ruined my first blog by treating it as a place to rant and vent. Before too long, I lost the urge to continue to post to it because I saw it as so negative. There are times, however, when it's good to gripe, and this is one of them.<br /><br />By now, anyone who wasn't involved in the fiasco that has happened in the last year and a half is probably going "oh no - not again". Unfortunately, it's one of those situations that unless you've been there, you won't really understand. Normally, I'd not even bother to post on that type of situation, but this is one of those things that you just feel the need to scream at the top of your lungs that you've been wronged, and the sheer magnitude of the bull that went on is unfathomable. There was a small group of us affected. We talk about it. We complain about it. We rant about it when some new crap is perpetuated. We try to get over it. Problem is, we can't.<br /><br />It's not because we don't want to. It's not because we're living in the past. Rather, it's the other party involved that refuses to let it die.<br /><br />Honestly, we'd all be happy to have moved on, aside from the occasional playful jab at the offending party, but it just keeps going on. Every time we try to distance ourselves, we get drug back in. The question we keep asking is that if they decided that they didn't want us around and we had to go, then why do they continue to use information and footage that we supplied to them? When one person got the boot, they were told via e-mail that their footage would be destroyed and not used. Ok - no problem. But it gets better. Not only does this person contiune to use their footage in clips that they create, but they continue to use clips created by the booted person. So much for destroying footage.<br /><br />So rightly so, the booted person saw this, and fought back. He complained to the service showing the clips that the clip was his property, and that he was no longer affiliated with this group, and he would like his clip removed. They were great about it, and complied. Case closed. Or not......<br />Immediately, backlash ensued. I was told by jerk-of-the-century that he was being sued by the company that was airing the clip because he violated copyright regulations because of a song that appeared in the clip. Problem is, I know the truth. I was copied on the correspondance with the company showing the clip. The song in the video has no copyright - it's under creative commons, and as long as the artist got credit, there would be no problems. Rather than just let it slide, as no one would have likely even noticed it was gone, or even say the clip had been pulled for unknown reasons, they decided to launch a vicious campaign that was complete and total BS - 100%. Furthermore, I got drug in to it.<br /><br />I was told that I needed to have the booted person contact him because he was named as a co-defendent in this (ficticious) lawsuit, and he could be liable for half of a ridiculous sum like $14,000. Little did he know that I knew that I knew he'd been attempting to contact the booted person consistantly since he booted him - not just since this issue. Also, he told me to tell booted person that he could have his work admired by tons of people if he'd let it be. What dippity-do-dah won't understand is that this was just a hobby for us - nothing we want to pursue as a full-time job, so the admiration of millions simply doesn't mean that much to us. Booted person, as I would, totally ignored all contact attempts. Why subject yourself to more needless grief? I forwarded the message to booted person, who decided it was finally time to fight back, and he sent him a fantastic scathing e-mail, calling his bluff on the whole thing. Needless to say, we never heard about it again.<br /><br />We try to shoot down outright lies when we catch them, but what is even more unnerving than that, is the fact that once someone calls him on it, he immediately goes in to the Piss-And-Moan-About-Everything Club. As I said at the beginning, he isn't just a member - he's also the president. Boo hoo, poor me. No one understands me. No one likes me. Everyone is deserting me. No one supports what I do. The one that ticks me off the most, however, is when we get blamed for his lack of work. Nothing significant has been done on this project since LAST SUMMER. He can say all he wants that he's gotten so much done - show me the money! All I've been shown is a ever so slight blurb. Meanwhile, he keeps blaming the push back on the finalization date on work, problems with other companies, problems that we've caused, etc. Gripe, gripe, gripe. Don't do anything about it - just gripe away. And while you're at it, blame all your problems on us. After all, we're not around to defend ourselves. Have a pity party. Have it with all your friends (and I mean true friends, not just hanger-on's). I have a feeling you might be the only one there. Keep it up. You'll be completely alone sooner than you think if you keep playing these crappy kindergarten games.<br /><br />I could be a jerk too. I could name names. I could mention specifics, like this person's websites, and call them on their bluff in terms of the promises he makes that he can't back up, and his complete line of bull. I could go on all day, but I won't. I refuse to sink to that level. One thing I will guarantee is this: what I say (unilke other people I could mention) is the truth. And I can back it up.<br /><br />Now hopefully, this will all blow over......again. I'm hoping it stays that way, but I'm not holding my breath.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-66581176293204148922007-08-06T09:38:00.000-07:002007-08-06T09:42:48.465-07:00The Best "Mis"-laid Plans Of Morons And Mena/k/a If You Say You're Gonna Do It, Then DO IT!!<br /><br /><br />Something my parents tried to raise me to live by was that if you say you are going to do something, then do it. If you find out at some point that you can't, then be honest and tell someone. It's not fair if you have others relying on you to do something. I try my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">darnedest</span> to do that. Honestly, sometimes things happen and someone gets left hanging, but that is few and far between. Few things irritate me more than waiting around on someone who never shows up, or similar.<br /><br />I've always been fairly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">naive</span>. It's something that I've been working on for most of my life. I'd been stomped on so many times by people who I thought were my friends that I've lost count. I'm fiercely loyal to my friends, so it is possible for a smooth talker to blindside me, and it has happened more often than I care to admit. Despite being fairly good at separating the genuine people from losers, every now and again, one sneaks through, which leaves me to shake my head in the aftermath.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong - I'm not on a "poor me" kick (another thing that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">irritates</span> me, but that's for another day). I try to learn from my mistakes. It may take me a while to catch on, but I will eventually. It is a shame, though, that this has happened so many times, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">because</span> it can cause me to take a more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">critical</span> look at someone who may be genuine. I'd love to be able to take everyone at face value, but that can work in reverse as well - I've met people that I wouldn't normally think to associate with because of their outward persona or what that is perceived to be by others, but they've turned out to be great people. It's just a tough spot to be in, and I guess that to get suckered occasionally is just part of life's ride.<br /><br />This happened to me recently. I got suckered in by a smooth talker with big dreams. I blindly believed in this person. They could give me recognition on a national level for things I was helping them do, and that appealed to me. A chance to shove it in the face of people who said I'd never amount to anything. I should have gone with my gut, but I happily followed along. I bragged. I told <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">people</span> that I was going places. I should have kept my mouth shut.<br /><br />I made a number of friends through this endeavour. Most of us were in the same boat. We believed what we were told my Mr. Smooth Talker. We all gave a lot, but increasingly were getting nothing (and occasionally unwarranted grief) for our efforts. People started to grumble. For the first time, someone told me that I shouldn't pin any hopes on this person because he can't follow through with anything. I ignored them, against my better judgement. I continued to brag. Smooth Talker promised me some major things, and I threw myself in to it lock, stock, and barrel. I ignored all the warning signs. I put myself and my good name out there for this person. I got stomped on. As predicted, they never followed through on anything, eventually abandoning the project without even having the decency to tell me. I found out by noticing it had been removed from a list of outstanding projects.<br /><br /><br />Even after Mr. Smooth Talker himself got run over by Ms. Smoother Talker (who continues to run him over, despite his being told by several of us that she wasn't what she appeared to be), I continued to just kid myself that it was stress (a favorite excuse of his) and that it would all smooth over. After he began believing lies about the friends I made (and I have proof that they're lies) and he began booting them one by one, I told myself this was just temporary.<br /><br />Slowly, I began to realize that I was being squeezed out. It was obvious to everyone but me until the bitter end. He didn't have the guts to tell me - he just let Ms. Smooth Talker run roughshod all over <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">everything</span> I did. When I called him on it (and the treatment of some others), he told me he was unaware, but did nothing about it. That, in my opinion, is unacceptable, and was the final straw.<br /><br />I realized that in my zeal, I tossed out one of my good points - my fierce loyalty to my friends. I remained silent while the gruesome twosome steamrolled over the friends that I made. I also realized these were good friends - as opposed to Dumb and Dumber - who were there when I had to go for surgery, when Nelson was diagnosed with Cancer, and any host of problems that came along. I'd get an occasional note from one of the other two, but a lot of it was "I don't know what to say for stuff like that - I'm not good with these situations". Again, I don't need someone holding my hand every step of the way, but when life hits you with something blind, it's nice to have people to lean on, or at least someone who listens. They don't have to have the answers. And I'm always more than happy to return that favor.<br /><br />Taking out the trash was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Part of me still clung to the hope that this was a temporary setback, but I was just fooling myself. I wrote the letter. I asked a friend to read it for me. I sent it when I knew the recipient would not be at home.<br /><br />Immediately after that, I deleted this person from my e-mail address book, and blocked their e-mail, and any e-mail coming from their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">url's</span>. I removed them from all of my friend lists from any number of websites. I deleted all information from my computer that pertained to anything having to do with them. When the computer asked me if I'd like to take them to the trash can, I chuckled as I sent it there. I have absolutely no regrets for any of it - even the time I wasted chasing someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">else's</span> ill-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">conceived</span> pipe dream. The small <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">handful</span> of friends I've made more than makes up for any bad stuff. It just feels good to get it out when something sucks me back in, like what's going on currently.<br /><br />This person's grandiose dreams just keep getting bigger, and more ridiculous. Not just content to continue to ruin their name and reputation, they continue to drag the name and rep of others down with them. These new people, unaware that the Smooth Talkers have zero track record or completions under their belts, believe the hype and proudly announce their affiliation with various projects, none of which will likely ever see the light of day.<br /><br />It doesn't just upset me - it upsets the others that got sucked in before me, only to be spit out. Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about it except for vent when it comes up. It would be poor of us to say to these people "You know, I wouldn't hang my hat on anything they tell you, and we speak from experience", because we'd be no better than any of them and their games.<br /><br />This is one thing, unfortunately, they'll have to learn on their own. And maybe, just maybe, something may someday get done. But even if it did, I want no part of it. The so-called reward is just not worth it.Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6679047999107595338.post-36103761926656738502007-08-02T09:09:00.000-07:002007-08-02T09:13:23.331-07:00I Keep Holding On To YesterdayIt's in my blood. I can't help it, or myself. My name is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Railyn</span>. I am a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">packrat</span>.<br /><br />I place the blame solely on my late Grandma Rose. She grew up during the depression, in a poor Jewish family that fled Russia in the middle of the night during the Bolshevik Revolution. They landed in Philadelphia, and set up a new life for themselves.<br /><br />I'm not getting down on Grandma Rose. Not at all. She was a great lady. She could do amazing things with little supplies or money. Think <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">MacGyver</span>, but as a 4'10" woman with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fiery</span> attitude and a cigarette perpetually hanging out the side of her mouth. After she and Grandpa Bill passed, we were amazed at the things we dug out of her house. Tons of Sucrets boxes full of buttons, bra hooks and eyes, and snaps. Bags full of zippers. Tons of scraps of fabric that weren't large enough to do much of anything with. Her jewelry box was full of broken pieces, and uprooted stones. To most people, it looked like junk, but it was a way of life for her - a necessity for survival.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Every time</span> clothing had passed it's usefulness, everything that could be harvested was removed: buttons, snaps, hooks and eyes, zippers...... They were saved, in case they might be needed again. The clothing itself was cut in to pieces, and used for any number of things, from rags to pillow stuffing. Same with jewelry that ended up broken. She might be able to use the stones from it again if one happened to fall out, or perhaps she could repair a broken pin with pieces from another. We initially shook our heads, but then gave her props for it. While it created a mountain of stuff to sort out and toss, she managed to save money wherever she could. In a throw-away society, she never wasted anything.<br /><br />My mom picked up her habit. She didn't save bits of cloth or buttons, but she's got old outdated clothing, shoes and purses galore, and more boxes of books than most libraries. Being that her parents were antiques dealers later in life, she never threw out a bunch of k<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nick</span>-knacks, dishes, and other things because "they might be valuable". That's the bad habit that I then picked up.<br /><br />I collect stuff. Problem is, I get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">gung</span> ho on something, then tire of it. I married someone the same way. He picked that habit up from his mother. I try not to tap in to the latest fads, though, as she did. She had more Beanie Babies than I would ever know what to do with. They still sit in the largest tote that Rubbermaid has. Nelson's step-dad wanted to get rid of them, but collectively they're worth less than she paid for one of the more expensive ones.<br /><br /><br />I started collecting Star Wars when the movies were retooled and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">re released</span>. I got weary of it quickly, and it sits in a box in the basement. I was on a View Master kick for a while. I've always loved them, but instead of just buying reels, I bought a Talking View Master that works well, but by design they sound like garbage. It's gathering dust in a closet. I got on a brief <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Rugrats</span> kick - that stuff sits in the basement as well. Same with Lilo and Stitch. And the music group KISS. Tons of stuff sitting around gathering dust. And we won't even start on Nelson's collection of Matchbox Convoy trucks, or older <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">WWF</span> merchandise.<br /><br />When Nelson's step-dad moved, he couldn't fit his 64" Sony Projection TV in the new house anywhere that it worked well. He asked us if we wanted it. Um, yeah! Then we looked at our house. The amount of crap was just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">unbelievable</span>. We thought about just packaging it up and sending it downstairs, but that just makes more problems - the basement is very full......of junk we put down there.<br /><br />We started going through boxes. It went like this:<br /><br />"Um, why do we have this?"<br />"Well, I bought that for you when........."<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Ok</span>. We'll keep it."<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Ok</span>, why do we have this?"<br />"Remember, you liked {insert here} and your mom bought that for you......"<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Ok</span>. We'll keep it."<br /><br /><br />Repeat as needed.<br /><br />Several hours later, all we had done was shuffled things from one box to another. We tossed a few things, but nothing worth writing home about. We finally decided enough was enough. Several garbage bags and boxes later, we've cleared an amazing amount of room at the house. Total crap got thrown, things that someone else might want were set aside for a yard sale which will take place in about 2 weeks, and anything remotely valuable (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">WWF</span> Stuff, Star Wars Stuff, etc) is being sent to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ebay</span> Drop Off store. It was time to let a lot of stuff go, and put a period to a lot of partial collections.<br /><br /><br />I kept two things from the Star Wars end: an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Ewok</span> that belongs to Nelson, and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Chewbacca</span> statue that is carrying C3PO on his back in pieces. The rest is gone - books, small figures, etc. I've kept all my View Master viewers and reels, but anything having to do with the Talking View Master is gone. Most of my KISS stuff is going. I'm keeping a few things, but the books (except for my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">KISSTORY</span> book), action figures, patches, framed photos, posters, and stuff like that are going. Anything <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Rugrats</span> is gone. Anything Lilo and Stitch, with the exception of my lithographs, is gone. All <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">WWF</span> stuff, with the exception of a few videos and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">dvd's</span>, is gone. Matchbox Convoy Trucks and Over-The-Road Convoy Truck Stop: gone. It's quite liberating.<br /><br />I'm retaining my Olympics collection, my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Monkees</span> collection, my New York Rangers collection, and my record collection. Nelson is keeping his Miami Dolphins and Dan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Marino</span> collections. I am not eliminating my vast sheep collection, but it is being pared down considerably. I am also thinning out my board games in terms of games we found weren't fun, or we don't play, or that I have duplicates of.<br /><br /><br />I'm shocked at how much extra room we have, even with a massive TV taking up a big chunk of our living room.<br /><br />So people out there that have ever received a gift from me: you needn't hang on to it if you never use it, or have lost your enthusiasm for whatever it was. Please don't clutter your house on my account. You have my blessing to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">regift</span>, yard sale, Goodwill, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">ebay</span> it. Chances are good, I may have done the same to you........Funky-Rathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08854698767815327415noreply@blogger.com2