I remember very distinctly taking Economics 1-A and the subsequent Economics 1-B with Instructor Ron Schulke back in the stone age at Santa Rosa Junior College.
20+ years later I can still recite verbatim sections of his classroom lectures. He raised some very interesting points that related to the business world. At the time I was not sure as to exactly what he was referring to, but now as a battered veteran of American Business and quasi-capitalism I know exactly *why* he would lecture on a certain aspect of business, look at us half-smirking like "these idealistic, naive, youngsters think they have it figured out" and nod his head knowingly.
Yeah, he was right. After having the real world kick us around, we experienced what he was talking about first hand. He was an excellent instructor. The books say one thing, which is kind of a model to follow, but real life is another. He knew that. We did not. He knew we had to figure it out on our own.
Well, one thing is that "capitalists" claim they LOVE the invisible free hand of capitalism. This is 'Merka...damn it. We love our freedom, guns, God, and apple pie. That is until competition comes along. They love the invisible hand of capitalism until they are threatened by a competitor. Wow! They turn into dogs marking their territory and threaten any challenger.
Don't believe me? We really are a nation that wants to be run by a cartel clique. There are two very distinct business models -- large business and small business. The goal of large businesses is to eliminate any competition and engage in what's called predatory pricing to drive their competitors out of business. That's pretty much bad news for the local, little guy. The local guy is so frustrated by rules, regulations, labor laws, etc., etc., etc., that he throws up his hands in frustration and sells out or closes up shop. See, the large businesses are lining the pockets of the politicians to keep pumping out these obnoxious rules and regulations so the little guy HAS to close up because keeping up with all the government red tape finally did him in. "Excellent," says Mr. Big Business, "One more obstacle out of my way to total market domination and control."
"Excellent, " says Joe Politician, "One less business constituent to deal with and it makes me look like I'm doing something passing these stupid laws."
When you're a political puppet, you want as few puppet masters as possible. Small businesses take note.... big business is NOT your political ally. Consumers take note. Your choices shape society. We will all owe our souls to the company store before too much longer.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Game of Thrones: Daenerys Targaryen - Mother of Dragons
Yes, I'm a Game of Thrones junkie. I think why our society is so obsessed with it is because how strikingly TRUE and ALIVE this kind of stuff is in our culture -- nobody wants to talk about it, but there it is in all its un repressed glory.
Which brings me to similarities from the Game of Thrones plot to my own life. There are too many to elaborate on but a fun one is that I, just like Daenerys Targaryen - Mother of Dragons, have my very OWN dragons I am hatching and raising.
I know, I know... it's a giant stretch but I have been protecting my little hatch-lings since eggs were discovered in a bird house on my property. I keep predators away, cats, or anything else that would disturb them. It's a fun distraction to witness them grow.
Which brings me to similarities from the Game of Thrones plot to my own life. There are too many to elaborate on but a fun one is that I, just like Daenerys Targaryen - Mother of Dragons, have my very OWN dragons I am hatching and raising.
I know, I know... it's a giant stretch but I have been protecting my little hatch-lings since eggs were discovered in a bird house on my property. I keep predators away, cats, or anything else that would disturb them. It's a fun distraction to witness them grow.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Psychic Color Coordination
I have this little thing I have been doing with my dance troupe to see if anybody is catching on. The night before dance class I concentrate on a color -- one that I have in my dance wardrobe. For grins, let's say the color is purple. The next day I don my purple dance gear and, lo and behold, many of the other dancers show up wearing purple as well. It's become somewhat of a joke -- like synchronizing menstrual cycles.
There have been comments made as to how weird it is that many of us show up wearing the same color. It's usually the same women who 'synchronize' week after week. Sometimes it's more women than others.
I can't presume that I caused this 'psychic color coordination' as only a Holy Entity has the answers. However, I do like playing my little game. I can't say anything to any of them, either. For starters, they would think I'm nuts. Secondly, it would spoil my intent. There is one woman in my dance troupe who may be putting this little mystery together. I must sit back and wait until she approaches me on the subject -- if she ever does. If she does approach me, then I *know* she is sensitive and ready to expand an understanding that is beyond the mere physical plane.
I would say that 99% of people are not ready. It makes for a very frustrating human incarnation this time around. I need to put out my silent, psychic "feelers" to see if anybody is picking up on them and can handle me as a TRUE friend. Many can't.
There have been comments made as to how weird it is that many of us show up wearing the same color. It's usually the same women who 'synchronize' week after week. Sometimes it's more women than others.
I can't presume that I caused this 'psychic color coordination' as only a Holy Entity has the answers. However, I do like playing my little game. I can't say anything to any of them, either. For starters, they would think I'm nuts. Secondly, it would spoil my intent. There is one woman in my dance troupe who may be putting this little mystery together. I must sit back and wait until she approaches me on the subject -- if she ever does. If she does approach me, then I *know* she is sensitive and ready to expand an understanding that is beyond the mere physical plane.
I would say that 99% of people are not ready. It makes for a very frustrating human incarnation this time around. I need to put out my silent, psychic "feelers" to see if anybody is picking up on them and can handle me as a TRUE friend. Many can't.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Blank Space
I've always thought Taylor Swift a teeny-bopper sort of music sensation. However, one of my dance sisters is choreographing to her song "blank space." Ok... I'm admitting it. I like the song!!! THERE. You all HAPPY???? I like something mainstream! It's sort of like admitting liking cheese whiz and box wine.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
The $2.7 Million Stinking Pile of Poo
About 3 years ago I took on an enormous responsibility for my job. It was at a time in my life when I was very, VERY stressed out, ill, and fragile both physically and emotionally. I had never had any experience in the area of responsibility I was about to take on. No clue. None. I was handed over a stack of paper, hap-hazzard computer records, a list of suspected players, and was told told to run with it. Oh, and by the way... arbitration decisions and a person's well-being (or not) depend on this new responsibility that have several moving parts and involves lots of people.
Gulp. Ok. Put on my 'big girl' panties and deal with it. I spent countless hours organizing, reading, going through bank statements, and trying to make rhyme and reason out of the pile that was handed over...and... more importantly... trying to figure out where the games were being played.
My responsibility took about 2 years to figure out and get it down. I got the program running like a Swiss clock like it was supposed to. I was proud of taking this project on during a stressful time in my life and making sense of it. During the process of figuring this thing out, several red flags were raised in monetary disbursements, contract awards, and premiums paid. I smelled something rotten in Denmark. Something was not right in this set up, and I had my own internal hunches.
No matter. As I was in the beginning stages of compiling my findings, the FBI called. Apparently, one of the players was being investigated and there were others who were suspect. Personally, I had nothing to hide and did not receive any outlandish payments, kickbacks, nor perks. My tracks were clean and easy to follow and verify. My operation (once I took it over) was legitimate. It was the previous administration that was under the magnifying glass. I had all the official records of this organization from inception until present.
Of course, all of this spread like wildfire throughout my industry. The loudest complainer (from LA of course) had suspected something was rotten with this program for YEARS prior to this incident and calling for an audit. Great. I take over a $2.7 million stinking pile of poo, make sense out of it, compile my findings, and now facing colleague complainers from Los Angeles who think they have all the answers and can do better? I am NOT guilty.
OK... called the Mr. Los Angeles bluff. I'm sure Los Angeles CAN do better and can dig 25 years into the archives with the FBI and unravel even more to prosecute. Go for it. This Los Angeles guy has a hard-on for the prior administrator. I happily complied. Here you go, Mr. Los Angeles. It's ALL yours. In the meantime, there is a legitimate portion of this program that needs attention daily.
I relinquished my duties immediately and offered to send any and all records from inception to present to Mr. Los Angeles, et al, to keep forever and ever to plough through. Knock yourselves out.
Tick tock, tick tock.... I'm waiting for final word to close out the local bank account and remove myself as a signer. After all, people need to be paid, policies need attention, decisions need to be made, bank accounts need to be moved, etc., etc., etc., Being I'm incompetent and untrustworthy and LA can do it all better than I, I don't want any more banking transactions associated with my name attached.
Now Los Angeles is figuring out how much legitimate WORK there is involved and shirking taking it over. There it sits. Los Angeles complained and I gave them total control. Guess what. I have $2.7 million waiting to hand over. Los Angeles figured out they could not possibly take this over for the extremely modest amount I was getting compensated. Now they have aligned somebody who is going to get 5x the amount I was getting. The money is STILL waiting to be wired over to them because the new person can't figure it out.
I received several panicked phone calls today and emails from Mr. Wonderful Los Angeles who is making 5x for the same job desperate for help. No, I'm not going to do his transition shit work for him. It's his baby now. They could do it all better than I, right? Don't give my job to somebody who is going to make 5x what I did and then call me for help. Click.
The beauty of it is that I'm not going to suffer any loss of income. I was assigned something else that is far less complicated and does not involve the FBI;)
Gulp. Ok. Put on my 'big girl' panties and deal with it. I spent countless hours organizing, reading, going through bank statements, and trying to make rhyme and reason out of the pile that was handed over...and... more importantly... trying to figure out where the games were being played.
My responsibility took about 2 years to figure out and get it down. I got the program running like a Swiss clock like it was supposed to. I was proud of taking this project on during a stressful time in my life and making sense of it. During the process of figuring this thing out, several red flags were raised in monetary disbursements, contract awards, and premiums paid. I smelled something rotten in Denmark. Something was not right in this set up, and I had my own internal hunches.
No matter. As I was in the beginning stages of compiling my findings, the FBI called. Apparently, one of the players was being investigated and there were others who were suspect. Personally, I had nothing to hide and did not receive any outlandish payments, kickbacks, nor perks. My tracks were clean and easy to follow and verify. My operation (once I took it over) was legitimate. It was the previous administration that was under the magnifying glass. I had all the official records of this organization from inception until present.
Of course, all of this spread like wildfire throughout my industry. The loudest complainer (from LA of course) had suspected something was rotten with this program for YEARS prior to this incident and calling for an audit. Great. I take over a $2.7 million stinking pile of poo, make sense out of it, compile my findings, and now facing colleague complainers from Los Angeles who think they have all the answers and can do better? I am NOT guilty.
OK... called the Mr. Los Angeles bluff. I'm sure Los Angeles CAN do better and can dig 25 years into the archives with the FBI and unravel even more to prosecute. Go for it. This Los Angeles guy has a hard-on for the prior administrator. I happily complied. Here you go, Mr. Los Angeles. It's ALL yours. In the meantime, there is a legitimate portion of this program that needs attention daily.
I relinquished my duties immediately and offered to send any and all records from inception to present to Mr. Los Angeles, et al, to keep forever and ever to plough through. Knock yourselves out.
Tick tock, tick tock.... I'm waiting for final word to close out the local bank account and remove myself as a signer. After all, people need to be paid, policies need attention, decisions need to be made, bank accounts need to be moved, etc., etc., etc., Being I'm incompetent and untrustworthy and LA can do it all better than I, I don't want any more banking transactions associated with my name attached.
Now Los Angeles is figuring out how much legitimate WORK there is involved and shirking taking it over. There it sits. Los Angeles complained and I gave them total control. Guess what. I have $2.7 million waiting to hand over. Los Angeles figured out they could not possibly take this over for the extremely modest amount I was getting compensated. Now they have aligned somebody who is going to get 5x the amount I was getting. The money is STILL waiting to be wired over to them because the new person can't figure it out.
I received several panicked phone calls today and emails from Mr. Wonderful Los Angeles who is making 5x for the same job desperate for help. No, I'm not going to do his transition shit work for him. It's his baby now. They could do it all better than I, right? Don't give my job to somebody who is going to make 5x what I did and then call me for help. Click.
The beauty of it is that I'm not going to suffer any loss of income. I was assigned something else that is far less complicated and does not involve the FBI;)
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
The Higher Self
...and no.... pot has nothing to do with this blog post title...
When I sleep at night my dreams take me to a place that is inexplicable. I guess the best way to describe it is that my astral body takes over and I leave my physical body. It is on this plane where I have met many of my friends and family (both living and deceased) to discuss issues of what went wrong where in the earth relationship. If the dream involves a person still living, after the discussion (where it is impossible to hide any truths) we return to our earth bodies to carry on and try to live the karma to learn and progress. Think of it like an out-of-body study group trying to pass this existence test to move on to different lessons. We are in class (earth) and get presented with a bunch of karma lessons. This stuff is hard. We deal with people and situations that drive us mad. We decide that we all need to shed the physical and get together to figure out how we are going to deal with it all via the astral body meeting study group. We devise a plan (hoping it works and we pass the test) and return to our physical earth bodies to carry it out.
The difference is that I'm conscious and aware of the astral body meetings. I remember them when I wake up in my earth body. I wonder if anybody else involved in my karma lessons for this life are aware upon awakening in the morning. It's not like I can approach people and say, "Hi... we had an out-of-body meeting on the astral plane and this is how we are to deal with the issues at hand."
I can't say anything to the other person or it would be like cheating on a test. In addition, they would suggest I be locked up in the loony bin. There is a reason they are not consciously aware and it's not my place to point it out. Most people can't handle that type of information, anyway. No wonder I wake up exhausted and my brain is used for research;)
When I sleep at night my dreams take me to a place that is inexplicable. I guess the best way to describe it is that my astral body takes over and I leave my physical body. It is on this plane where I have met many of my friends and family (both living and deceased) to discuss issues of what went wrong where in the earth relationship. If the dream involves a person still living, after the discussion (where it is impossible to hide any truths) we return to our earth bodies to carry on and try to live the karma to learn and progress. Think of it like an out-of-body study group trying to pass this existence test to move on to different lessons. We are in class (earth) and get presented with a bunch of karma lessons. This stuff is hard. We deal with people and situations that drive us mad. We decide that we all need to shed the physical and get together to figure out how we are going to deal with it all via the astral body meeting study group. We devise a plan (hoping it works and we pass the test) and return to our physical earth bodies to carry it out.
The difference is that I'm conscious and aware of the astral body meetings. I remember them when I wake up in my earth body. I wonder if anybody else involved in my karma lessons for this life are aware upon awakening in the morning. It's not like I can approach people and say, "Hi... we had an out-of-body meeting on the astral plane and this is how we are to deal with the issues at hand."
I can't say anything to the other person or it would be like cheating on a test. In addition, they would suggest I be locked up in the loony bin. There is a reason they are not consciously aware and it's not my place to point it out. Most people can't handle that type of information, anyway. No wonder I wake up exhausted and my brain is used for research;)
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
The "B" List
My fingers have been hovering over the "delete my Facebook account" for quite a while now. However, I'm quasi-amused at how this social media technological thermometer displays the raging, growing fever of selfish narcissism in society.
People who really care about me know that the last place to reach me is via Facebook. 'Nuff said. However, I think I received the all time low in wedding invitation etiquette.
A relative of mine back in the Midwest got re-married a couple of months ago. YAY. Happy for them. Really. They had their "family and friends" nuptials locally near my home state. I declined attending the first wedding with my regrets, but sent a personal congratulatory card wishing them well. After the "family and friends" wedding nuptials, the couple and their inner social circle jetted off to a foreign country to be married *yet again* complete with gowns, bridesmaids, champagne fountains, etc. Of course, pictures were plastered all over Facebook photo-journaling every indulgence.
Now in my Facebook inbox I received yet another invitation to their post-wedding reception BBQ to be held 2,000 miles away in my home state in a couple of weeks. That's not even the worst of it. The invitation was an iPhone picture of the original paper flyer-type that was snapped and sent to me. The accompanying text said, "I feel horrible that I forgot to invite you."
Really? First off, how many times can one couple get married and throw parties for themselves? Second off, it sounds to me that everybody is sick and tired of this non-stop wedding road show and want the encores to end. People are not taking the bait for a fourth party and now the couple is looking to invite people from whom they feel they might extract money. Receiving an insincere, impersonal Facebook message with a mere photo of the original invite at the last minute conjures up thoughts that the RSVP's are lacking and too much money was spent in the foreign country and now looking to try to fill the coffers. I'm not your "B" list-afterthought-sucker.
I'm not even going to respond to the invite. I can't make this stuff up, people.
People who really care about me know that the last place to reach me is via Facebook. 'Nuff said. However, I think I received the all time low in wedding invitation etiquette.
A relative of mine back in the Midwest got re-married a couple of months ago. YAY. Happy for them. Really. They had their "family and friends" nuptials locally near my home state. I declined attending the first wedding with my regrets, but sent a personal congratulatory card wishing them well. After the "family and friends" wedding nuptials, the couple and their inner social circle jetted off to a foreign country to be married *yet again* complete with gowns, bridesmaids, champagne fountains, etc. Of course, pictures were plastered all over Facebook photo-journaling every indulgence.
Now in my Facebook inbox I received yet another invitation to their post-wedding reception BBQ to be held 2,000 miles away in my home state in a couple of weeks. That's not even the worst of it. The invitation was an iPhone picture of the original paper flyer-type that was snapped and sent to me. The accompanying text said, "I feel horrible that I forgot to invite you."
Really? First off, how many times can one couple get married and throw parties for themselves? Second off, it sounds to me that everybody is sick and tired of this non-stop wedding road show and want the encores to end. People are not taking the bait for a fourth party and now the couple is looking to invite people from whom they feel they might extract money. Receiving an insincere, impersonal Facebook message with a mere photo of the original invite at the last minute conjures up thoughts that the RSVP's are lacking and too much money was spent in the foreign country and now looking to try to fill the coffers. I'm not your "B" list-afterthought-sucker.
I'm not even going to respond to the invite. I can't make this stuff up, people.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Just Married
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Global Warming and Southern Florida
At this very moment I an looking out onto the water from my Miami hotel room. It's only April and I can't even imagine this place in June - September. The people here are a weird mix of relocated New York Jews, European tourists, and third world refugees.
For the past couple of nights I have dined and "partied" at the Miami South Beach scene hot spots that are supposedly exclusive. I beg to differ.
I find South Beach in general very desperate and depressing. It's full of vacant space for rent and art deco facades that have been neglected for decades. There are attempts to make South Beach pretty much like Tammy Faye Baker and her layes of makeup. There is a plethoria of debauchary. Expect to get hussled at every street corner. It's full of the spring break types who are still thrilled showing their real ID to get served alcohol and then sneak off to the bathroom to snort coke. Bottom line: Hooters and hoods.
I kind of giggle to myself that the real South Beach is nothing like they want to portray in advertising....much like the teenaged hype of the clothing line "Hollister." People who are not from California think Hollister is some cool, trendy, chic beach town. People who are from California know that it's really a shit-hole of a town in the armpit central valley that is nowhere near a beach. Agriculture is Hollister's main industry - imagine lettuce and tomato pickers in dusty, hot winds under a scortching sun.
Anyway, I don't know why some re-located New Yorkers think this is paradise and have invested in their HUGE yachts, high rise condos, etc. They walk around complete with their cheesy bling, gold necklaces hitting on every female within range. Oh well, I suppose they should enjoy it before this entire place is submerged due to rising ocean levels.
For the past couple of nights I have dined and "partied" at the Miami South Beach scene hot spots that are supposedly exclusive. I beg to differ.
I find South Beach in general very desperate and depressing. It's full of vacant space for rent and art deco facades that have been neglected for decades. There are attempts to make South Beach pretty much like Tammy Faye Baker and her layes of makeup. There is a plethoria of debauchary. Expect to get hussled at every street corner. It's full of the spring break types who are still thrilled showing their real ID to get served alcohol and then sneak off to the bathroom to snort coke. Bottom line: Hooters and hoods.
I kind of giggle to myself that the real South Beach is nothing like they want to portray in advertising....much like the teenaged hype of the clothing line "Hollister." People who are not from California think Hollister is some cool, trendy, chic beach town. People who are from California know that it's really a shit-hole of a town in the armpit central valley that is nowhere near a beach. Agriculture is Hollister's main industry - imagine lettuce and tomato pickers in dusty, hot winds under a scortching sun.
Anyway, I don't know why some re-located New Yorkers think this is paradise and have invested in their HUGE yachts, high rise condos, etc. They walk around complete with their cheesy bling, gold necklaces hitting on every female within range. Oh well, I suppose they should enjoy it before this entire place is submerged due to rising ocean levels.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Phone Calls and Snail Mail - Making a Comback
Want to get somebody's attention? Pick up the phone and CALL them. Do not tweet, text, email, Facebook, Instagram, whatever. Nobody calls anybody anymore. It takes too much effort. Same with using snail mail.
All of this technology has just created a bunch of white noise. If somebody calls you personally or sends a letter via snail mail you *know* it must have value and meaning.
All of this technology has just created a bunch of white noise. If somebody calls you personally or sends a letter via snail mail you *know* it must have value and meaning.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Robin Williams and the Waldo Grade
The Do-Gooders are at it again. They feel the need to replace the name of a Marin County landmark to "honor" the late Robin Williams. Really? The main Do-Gooder, Julie Wainwright, saw a chance to promote herself as a champion (as well as her business) by spearheading the effort and suckering in local politicians who really have no option but to go along.
I'm certain Mr. Williams really is laughing. He referred to the Waldo Grade tunnel entrance in his comedy skits as the "ethnic detector" being a symbol of elite snob-ism much like the Nazi swastika.
Go ahead, Julie, and promote your "luxury" consignment business. The joke is on YOU.
I'm certain Mr. Williams really is laughing. He referred to the Waldo Grade tunnel entrance in his comedy skits as the "ethnic detector" being a symbol of elite snob-ism much like the Nazi swastika.
Go ahead, Julie, and promote your "luxury" consignment business. The joke is on YOU.
Monday, April 6, 2015
What *really* happens in the Board Room
Today I was at an all-day meeting with my colleagues from the neighboring jurisdictions. It was a grand total of six of us hashing out details of a labor/management issue. As usual, I was the only female present. However, the others felt free to openly use profanity in my presence. The stories and quasi-humorous situations were flowing. One of my colleagues even went into detail how his dog likes to "grab" his wife's leg (and yes, with the graphic conclusion) and now the ensuing marital conflict on where the dog sleeps.
The men have grown accustomed to my presence over the past 25+ years and I guess I take it as a backward compliment they speak the way they do in when I'm in the room. They don't feel like they need to filter anything.
The other topic of discussion involved the inner details of employers who are being criminally investigated by the D.A. office. Why? Because for one, they were laundering wage rates through a computer program falsifying payroll records. The other reason is that these employers were also withholding monies from employee paychecks for taxes to the federal and state governments, which they should be doing. The problem was that the employer(s) did not then forward the money to the Franchise Tax Board nor the United States Treasury on the employees behalf. Instead these employers thought it necessary to use employee tax withholding money to add on to their already obnoxious mansions, buy new cars, and take a trip to Africa. The rotten employers think they have smartly hidden away their money where it can't be touched. The rotten employers also think that the payments they made to their employees in "powder" are not part of the investigation. We're talking millions of dollars. The rotten employers have another thing coming.
The men have grown accustomed to my presence over the past 25+ years and I guess I take it as a backward compliment they speak the way they do in when I'm in the room. They don't feel like they need to filter anything.
The other topic of discussion involved the inner details of employers who are being criminally investigated by the D.A. office. Why? Because for one, they were laundering wage rates through a computer program falsifying payroll records. The other reason is that these employers were also withholding monies from employee paychecks for taxes to the federal and state governments, which they should be doing. The problem was that the employer(s) did not then forward the money to the Franchise Tax Board nor the United States Treasury on the employees behalf. Instead these employers thought it necessary to use employee tax withholding money to add on to their already obnoxious mansions, buy new cars, and take a trip to Africa. The rotten employers think they have smartly hidden away their money where it can't be touched. The rotten employers also think that the payments they made to their employees in "powder" are not part of the investigation. We're talking millions of dollars. The rotten employers have another thing coming.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Uncle Buzz: Marine Drill Seargent and Prison Guard
Yes, I have an uncle with the nickname Buzz. He is my father's brother. His real name is something out of the Third Reich SS that immediately conjurers up thoughts of blond boys wearing liederhosen and toting assault weapons......aimed at you...... Uncle Buzz left the farm at age 18 and joined the Marines. That's what "real men" did back then. God Damn It.
Well, Uncle Buzz made a career out of the Marines and somehow found himself as drill sergeant. I imagine he scared the you-know-what out of young boys away from home for the very first time. Somehow, I think my uncle was a sick bastard and enjoyed the power trip. Yes. My father's family has a history of enjoying the administration of punishment.
Now, karma has placed Uncle Buzz's grand-nephew as a young boy off the farm who is now a new Marine recruit at the complete mercy of the drill Sargent. Will the drill Sargent show my nephew any mercy????? God only knows....
Uncle Buzz's other career after retiring from the Marines was to do a stint as a prison guard. What other item on a resume for applying as a prison guard would qualify a person more than MARINE CORP DRILL SARGENT? Want to argue with Uncle Buzz? Good luck. He is stupid smart and deadly.
I remember the Uncle Buzz I knew as a little girl. I remember being at my grandparents' farm and Green Acres came on the television. Everybody ran in from the barn and the fields and huddled around the tv to watch the latest episode. I remember rubbing the top of Uncle Buzz's head as he had the classic military buzz cut (excuse the expression) and I remember feeling that there was a weird energy that emanated from his head.
Well, Uncle Buzz made a career out of the Marines and somehow found himself as drill sergeant. I imagine he scared the you-know-what out of young boys away from home for the very first time. Somehow, I think my uncle was a sick bastard and enjoyed the power trip. Yes. My father's family has a history of enjoying the administration of punishment.
Now, karma has placed Uncle Buzz's grand-nephew as a young boy off the farm who is now a new Marine recruit at the complete mercy of the drill Sargent. Will the drill Sargent show my nephew any mercy????? God only knows....
Uncle Buzz's other career after retiring from the Marines was to do a stint as a prison guard. What other item on a resume for applying as a prison guard would qualify a person more than MARINE CORP DRILL SARGENT? Want to argue with Uncle Buzz? Good luck. He is stupid smart and deadly.
I remember the Uncle Buzz I knew as a little girl. I remember being at my grandparents' farm and Green Acres came on the television. Everybody ran in from the barn and the fields and huddled around the tv to watch the latest episode. I remember rubbing the top of Uncle Buzz's head as he had the classic military buzz cut (excuse the expression) and I remember feeling that there was a weird energy that emanated from his head.
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