You all think that Alexa thing or whatever it is on your countertop is only listening to your commands? Nope. It hears and observes EVERYTHING in your household. There's a reason Snowden put tape over the computer webcams even when he wasn't using them. Everybody is whining about lack of privacy but yet invites spy gadgets into their homes and even wear them on their person. These gadgets are way more insidious than voluntary social media where your ego sold you out for data collection. At least people are figuring out that braggy postings of their constant whereabouts and with whom is not a good idea. Well, this realization is that its too little too late. Your info is out there for anybody to hack and track. Genie is out of the bottle, folks.
"Smart Homes" are not a good idea, either. Don't let the glorified convenience of it suck you in.
Saturday, December 30, 2017
Friday, December 29, 2017
2018 Taxes
HeWhoShallNotBeNamed has put together a new system for taxation of us plebes. There is much angst about how it will impact California. Although I'm not a fan of HeWhoShallNotBeNamed, an interesting thought came to mind.
Putting a limit on the state property tax deduction to $10,000 may be a deterrent for housing prices that are spiraling out of control in California.
Putting a limit on the state property tax deduction to $10,000 may be a deterrent for housing prices that are spiraling out of control in California.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Merry Christmas?
The month of December is filled with food, parties, and festivities. It's been non-stop since pretty much since Thanksgiving. Having Mercury in retrograde the first part of the month did not help at all. The stress levels were through the roof, not so much with my family, but with work. I can't even begin to go into detail as you would not believe it. Let's just say that it's newsworthy.
This Christmas we decided to scale back on gift giving. Guess what. Nobody was sad nor disappointed. Everybody was relieved and could actually relax and just focus on being together rather than fighting hordes of people for yet more stuff we don't really need. We did not even wrap the gifts that we got - just left them in a bag or its original box. It's just one small contribution to not filling up landfills with paper. Granted, my Martha Stewart friend would have had a fit seeing my plain, brown boxes under the tree as hers are all meticulously wrapped, color coordinated and placed ever so carefully under the tree in matching paper and bows.
Sorry, Martha Stewart doesn't live here.
By the numbers of people here on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning they don't care that Martha Stewart doesn't live here, either. The guest of honor was a 94 year-old woman. She's a spunky thing. She arrived all dressed up complete with her hair done and make-up. Just think of the changes she has seen in Sonoma County in her 94 years. Yup, she was born and raised here. Just listening to her talk is a history lesson......and......she likes her gin. God Bless her.
This Christmas Morning people arrived earlier than usual, and stayed later than usual. I guess I take that as a compliment however exhausting it is. After the houseful finally emptied out I thought I would call my parents in Minnesota to wish them a Merry Christmas. I talk to my parents about once a week. When I called and my mother answered the phone I said, "Merry Christmas!! What are you all up to today?"
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end. I recognized that sound of silence from my mother. It was not good. She flatly blurted out, "Your father has emphazema (sp?) and is on oxygen and your Uncle Buzz has colon cancer."
Huh???? Come again????
It did not stop there. My mother went on that her best friend, who was like an aunt to me growing up, only has days to live.
Huh??? Come again???? Merry Christmas?????????????????????
At that point my father got on the phone along with my mother. I could hear the shortness of breath in his voice. Humor always works in awkward situations, right? He started to tell me of how my mother overcooked the Christmas ham. OK. That was my lead to start to play. Just *how* do you mess up baking a ham? It's nearly impossible. Let the fun-poking begin.
My father asked me how I cooked my hams. It depends on if it's smoked or cured. It depends on if it's bone-in spiral from Costco or whatever. Regardless, I NEVER attempt to cook a ham from its frozen state. It needs to THAW. What my father does not really know is that everything I ever learned about scrumptious cooking I learned from watching his mother. Well, my mother attempted to bake a ham from its frozen state and then wondered why it came out so poorly despite my father harping on her otherwise.
My mother has been cooking for my father for 60 years. One would think......................
I'm not going to totally rip on mom, here. She is really an excellent baker as was her mother. Everybody has their strengths. My mother can bake really awesome goodies. If I did not think she had some skills in the kitchen I would not feel right about poking fun at her about the stupid ham. Personally, I can't really bake anything. So there. Mom has one up on me.
Still, the elephant was in the room about dad being on oxygen and having emphazema. Exactly why my mother decided to let this news be known on Christmas Day is a mystery. There were plenty of opportunities to communicate this news on any day other than Christmas. However, it's not about me and how and when I receive the news. It's about dad.
So today, after a strange shopping trip to Corte Madera with my daughter, I called my sister from my car on speakerphone with my daughter. My sister and I both agreed that dad needs to get out of sub-zero weather for about 6-8 weeks during the winter. I'm an empty nester with three open bedrooms. I actually want to spend time with my parents despite my griping about whatever I thought they lacked raising me and how I'm a victim. I'm done and over with blaming. There comes a time to just love and forgive....no matter what.
This Christmas we decided to scale back on gift giving. Guess what. Nobody was sad nor disappointed. Everybody was relieved and could actually relax and just focus on being together rather than fighting hordes of people for yet more stuff we don't really need. We did not even wrap the gifts that we got - just left them in a bag or its original box. It's just one small contribution to not filling up landfills with paper. Granted, my Martha Stewart friend would have had a fit seeing my plain, brown boxes under the tree as hers are all meticulously wrapped, color coordinated and placed ever so carefully under the tree in matching paper and bows.
Sorry, Martha Stewart doesn't live here.
By the numbers of people here on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning they don't care that Martha Stewart doesn't live here, either. The guest of honor was a 94 year-old woman. She's a spunky thing. She arrived all dressed up complete with her hair done and make-up. Just think of the changes she has seen in Sonoma County in her 94 years. Yup, she was born and raised here. Just listening to her talk is a history lesson......and......she likes her gin. God Bless her.
This Christmas Morning people arrived earlier than usual, and stayed later than usual. I guess I take that as a compliment however exhausting it is. After the houseful finally emptied out I thought I would call my parents in Minnesota to wish them a Merry Christmas. I talk to my parents about once a week. When I called and my mother answered the phone I said, "Merry Christmas!! What are you all up to today?"
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end. I recognized that sound of silence from my mother. It was not good. She flatly blurted out, "Your father has emphazema (sp?) and is on oxygen and your Uncle Buzz has colon cancer."
Huh???? Come again????
It did not stop there. My mother went on that her best friend, who was like an aunt to me growing up, only has days to live.
Huh??? Come again???? Merry Christmas?????????????????????
At that point my father got on the phone along with my mother. I could hear the shortness of breath in his voice. Humor always works in awkward situations, right? He started to tell me of how my mother overcooked the Christmas ham. OK. That was my lead to start to play. Just *how* do you mess up baking a ham? It's nearly impossible. Let the fun-poking begin.
My father asked me how I cooked my hams. It depends on if it's smoked or cured. It depends on if it's bone-in spiral from Costco or whatever. Regardless, I NEVER attempt to cook a ham from its frozen state. It needs to THAW. What my father does not really know is that everything I ever learned about scrumptious cooking I learned from watching his mother. Well, my mother attempted to bake a ham from its frozen state and then wondered why it came out so poorly despite my father harping on her otherwise.
My mother has been cooking for my father for 60 years. One would think......................
I'm not going to totally rip on mom, here. She is really an excellent baker as was her mother. Everybody has their strengths. My mother can bake really awesome goodies. If I did not think she had some skills in the kitchen I would not feel right about poking fun at her about the stupid ham. Personally, I can't really bake anything. So there. Mom has one up on me.
Still, the elephant was in the room about dad being on oxygen and having emphazema. Exactly why my mother decided to let this news be known on Christmas Day is a mystery. There were plenty of opportunities to communicate this news on any day other than Christmas. However, it's not about me and how and when I receive the news. It's about dad.
So today, after a strange shopping trip to Corte Madera with my daughter, I called my sister from my car on speakerphone with my daughter. My sister and I both agreed that dad needs to get out of sub-zero weather for about 6-8 weeks during the winter. I'm an empty nester with three open bedrooms. I actually want to spend time with my parents despite my griping about whatever I thought they lacked raising me and how I'm a victim. I'm done and over with blaming. There comes a time to just love and forgive....no matter what.
Friday, December 22, 2017
You Are What You Despise
All the stories with interesting plots really revolve around the main character eventually becoming what he or she despises. Hmmmmmm....think about that. What you despise is really what you are.
Take your own personal inventory of yourself to identify what that is.
I can only speak for myself, but I'm certainly in trouble;)
Take your own personal inventory of yourself to identify what that is.
I can only speak for myself, but I'm certainly in trouble;)
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Click Bait
In our ever distracted ADD culture with more and more demanding techno gadgets beeping, buzzing, blinking, etc., that our URGENT attention is required IMMEDIATELY or the world will spin off its axis, I'm coming to the conclusion that if everything is URGENT and ACT NOW and YOUR IMMEDIATE ACTION NEEDED, nothing is urgent nor does it require my immediate attention. It's all just useless noise. We have the technology to deal with 10,000 things at once with a superficial gloss over, but nothing of that multitude can be dealt with in depth.
That's what we're lacking these days, folks. Depth. It's all just sensational noise out there with no contemplative reflection to really process and intellectually analyze what we're being fed because of the constant bombardment of the next sensational topic. Everybody is attempting to outdo each other for just three seconds of your attention.
You all buy it. Hence, click bait.
We all have ADD. We all can only digest superficial bits of information and if it's broken down into bite size thought nuggets. This is where 'click bait' comes in.
You can immediately recognize 'click bait.' It usually has a captivating headline like, "How to Know if People Really Like You or Not." Headlines like that totally play into our own insecurities. See, they already have you. You click on it. Then it will be, "10 Signs the Relationship is Over."
Everything click bait has a number on it. For example, click bait always has a numbered bullet list like 10 signs of (fill in blank whatever), or something like "11 colors that are wrong to wear this season," or " 5 best schools in the country," or " 13 best weight loss recipes, etc."
What happens next is an ADD nightmare. You are immediately bombarded with pop-up ads, broken up articles of the subject matter you thought you were going to read about and suddenly you're on a Viagra webpage, combined with pleas to enter your email address to win _______, and also advertisement recommendations for restaurants in your neighborhood you *know* are crappy. But there it is. The CLIP NOW totally useless restaurant online coupon for a 2 for 1 is valid only on June 31st. ...and just exactly WHAT caught our interest and decided to click on to begin with??? I'm totally confused. I forgot by this point and don't care.
I can't handle it, people. It's just too damn noisy out there with constant solicitations and pleas for my attention and IMMEDIATE ACTION.
If you want to my attention me, leave me alone.
That's what we're lacking these days, folks. Depth. It's all just sensational noise out there with no contemplative reflection to really process and intellectually analyze what we're being fed because of the constant bombardment of the next sensational topic. Everybody is attempting to outdo each other for just three seconds of your attention.
You all buy it. Hence, click bait.
We all have ADD. We all can only digest superficial bits of information and if it's broken down into bite size thought nuggets. This is where 'click bait' comes in.
You can immediately recognize 'click bait.' It usually has a captivating headline like, "How to Know if People Really Like You or Not." Headlines like that totally play into our own insecurities. See, they already have you. You click on it. Then it will be, "10 Signs the Relationship is Over."
Everything click bait has a number on it. For example, click bait always has a numbered bullet list like 10 signs of (fill in blank whatever), or something like "11 colors that are wrong to wear this season," or " 5 best schools in the country," or " 13 best weight loss recipes, etc."
What happens next is an ADD nightmare. You are immediately bombarded with pop-up ads, broken up articles of the subject matter you thought you were going to read about and suddenly you're on a Viagra webpage, combined with pleas to enter your email address to win _______, and also advertisement recommendations for restaurants in your neighborhood you *know* are crappy. But there it is. The CLIP NOW totally useless restaurant online coupon for a 2 for 1 is valid only on June 31st. ...and just exactly WHAT caught our interest and decided to click on to begin with??? I'm totally confused. I forgot by this point and don't care.
I can't handle it, people. It's just too damn noisy out there with constant solicitations and pleas for my attention and IMMEDIATE ACTION.
If you want to my attention me, leave me alone.
Sunday, December 10, 2017
The Date Rape Song
OK, every human who has a penis has now been accused of sexual misconduct. Let's just get that out in the open - no, not YOU Peter Flasher - keep that thing zipped up where it belongs. All of these accusations flying around only desensitize the severity of the issue. If sexual advances are used to display dominance or control or other dehumanizing, humiliating, objectifying scenarios IT'S WRONG. If they are used because there is a genuine interest in the other person and that feeling is reciprocated then I don't know what to say about that.
Are we going to "outlaw" sexual urges from men? Good luck with that. Unless we castrate 1/2 the population we are going to have this issue keep popping up (no pun intended). Why don't we all go to Hard On School? In 4th grade it's all about telling boys what happens when girls grow up, why not put the two classes together and teach about hard-on and appropriate behavior in dealing with it? I know, we can call the class 'Teaching to Testosterone'.
1. Jerking off in public is a no-no;
2. Exposing yourself via flashing or sending pics of your junk is *not* a turn on to the recipient. Do your homework, guys, women are not visually stimulated;
3. Ass grabbing just pisses us off and instantly makes us think your an ass. The irony should not be lost on you;
4. Front loaded hugs and placing your hand on the small of our backs is entering the danger zone. You may get slapped;
5. Guys need to teach other guys boundaries and limits. We are not your prey that you get to hunt and hang our pelt on the wall. We are humans with feelings. Quality, not quantity. If you want uncommitted sex, hire a prostitute. At least the deal is honest. The guy wants sex and the prostitute wants money. Oh, you don't want to spend money nor effort on that and want to use some poor girl you'll forget about tomorrow? I guess that deserves you to lose your dick. Don't play with our hearts. Wishing Limpville for you, buddy, that no little blue pill can cure.
With all of this over-sensitivity to sexual harassment and misconduct, I'm surprised the below song has not been banned from the airwaves. It was pointed out by my son some years ago that they dubbed this popular Christmas song the "Date Rape Song." Listen closely. It's condoning date rape. Put the following link to bring up a youtube video of the original version. I'm trying to upload "Baby It's Cold Outside" but having trouble embedding (no pun intended). We call that the Date Rape Song. So, if you can't get this up (no pun intended) just think DATE RAPE every time you hear Baby It's Cold Outside and wonder where the outcry by angry feminists are.
Are we going to "outlaw" sexual urges from men? Good luck with that. Unless we castrate 1/2 the population we are going to have this issue keep popping up (no pun intended). Why don't we all go to Hard On School? In 4th grade it's all about telling boys what happens when girls grow up, why not put the two classes together and teach about hard-on and appropriate behavior in dealing with it? I know, we can call the class 'Teaching to Testosterone'.
1. Jerking off in public is a no-no;
2. Exposing yourself via flashing or sending pics of your junk is *not* a turn on to the recipient. Do your homework, guys, women are not visually stimulated;
3. Ass grabbing just pisses us off and instantly makes us think your an ass. The irony should not be lost on you;
4. Front loaded hugs and placing your hand on the small of our backs is entering the danger zone. You may get slapped;
5. Guys need to teach other guys boundaries and limits. We are not your prey that you get to hunt and hang our pelt on the wall. We are humans with feelings. Quality, not quantity. If you want uncommitted sex, hire a prostitute. At least the deal is honest. The guy wants sex and the prostitute wants money. Oh, you don't want to spend money nor effort on that and want to use some poor girl you'll forget about tomorrow? I guess that deserves you to lose your dick. Don't play with our hearts. Wishing Limpville for you, buddy, that no little blue pill can cure.
With all of this over-sensitivity to sexual harassment and misconduct, I'm surprised the below song has not been banned from the airwaves. It was pointed out by my son some years ago that they dubbed this popular Christmas song the "Date Rape Song." Listen closely. It's condoning date rape. Put the following link to bring up a youtube video of the original version. I'm trying to upload "Baby It's Cold Outside" but having trouble embedding (no pun intended). We call that the Date Rape Song. So, if you can't get this up (no pun intended) just think DATE RAPE every time you hear Baby It's Cold Outside and wonder where the outcry by angry feminists are.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
November 30th
It's not even December 1st and I'm already sick of Christmas music. I'm also already sick of Christmas commercials. We've been bombarded since the day after Halloween with Christmas overexposure and commercialism. I guess that's capitalism.
We've totally overlooked the meaning of Thanksgiving and jumped immediately into the shopping orgy of black Friday, Black Monday, Black Tuesday, Green Wednesday, Red Thursday, Cyber Monday, the day after Cyber Monday, Cyber Monday II, etc.
Yes, the Thanksgiving meal. The annual event where family you can't stand congregate to pretend they like each other and that the family is a big, happy unit that belongs on a Norman Rockwell painting. I guess using the name Norman Rockwell is dated and I should say Facebook or Instagram post.
As much as I love to cook for crowds, Quiet Rage is hanging up her Thanksgiving apron. I'd much rather cook for total strangers than for impolite family ingrates. No, my house is not an on-demand restaurant. Wait. I take that back. Even restaurants require reservations so the kitchen can be staffed accordingly.
What pushed me over the edge this year were family members who showed up, ate, and then left without even saying goodbye nor thank you. Yes, we did have a houseful. There was an additional table set up outside on the back deck to accommodate the overflow. I was out there with other guests when I came inside. I asked, "Where did X and Y go? They didn't even say goodbye?"
Their mother said, "Oh, they left. That's what happens when you have to work the next day."
WTF??? This was about 6:30 PM and the mother was making excuses for her kids' lack of manners. These "kids" are ages 30+. I guess the rudeness apple didn't fall from the tree and the ensuing denial.
It's already planned out, folks. The reservations are made for Thanksgiving 2018 for Quiet Rage to be out of town with my immediate family only.
All of this goes back to a previous post about the holidays. We all demand world peace from our leaders, but we all can't even get together for a holiday meal without wanting to kill each other. Think about that.
We've totally overlooked the meaning of Thanksgiving and jumped immediately into the shopping orgy of black Friday, Black Monday, Black Tuesday, Green Wednesday, Red Thursday, Cyber Monday, the day after Cyber Monday, Cyber Monday II, etc.
Yes, the Thanksgiving meal. The annual event where family you can't stand congregate to pretend they like each other and that the family is a big, happy unit that belongs on a Norman Rockwell painting. I guess using the name Norman Rockwell is dated and I should say Facebook or Instagram post.
As much as I love to cook for crowds, Quiet Rage is hanging up her Thanksgiving apron. I'd much rather cook for total strangers than for impolite family ingrates. No, my house is not an on-demand restaurant. Wait. I take that back. Even restaurants require reservations so the kitchen can be staffed accordingly.
What pushed me over the edge this year were family members who showed up, ate, and then left without even saying goodbye nor thank you. Yes, we did have a houseful. There was an additional table set up outside on the back deck to accommodate the overflow. I was out there with other guests when I came inside. I asked, "Where did X and Y go? They didn't even say goodbye?"
Their mother said, "Oh, they left. That's what happens when you have to work the next day."
WTF??? This was about 6:30 PM and the mother was making excuses for her kids' lack of manners. These "kids" are ages 30+. I guess the rudeness apple didn't fall from the tree and the ensuing denial.
It's already planned out, folks. The reservations are made for Thanksgiving 2018 for Quiet Rage to be out of town with my immediate family only.
All of this goes back to a previous post about the holidays. We all demand world peace from our leaders, but we all can't even get together for a holiday meal without wanting to kill each other. Think about that.
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
As Souls
We are all as souls. Say that out loud quickly. As souls. Some of us are bigger as souls than others. It's like that joke that has been going around for some time now, "Jesus loves you, but everyone else thinks you're an as soul."
There's a lot of truth to that.
As souls, we all have work to do on ourselves. I'm really trying to embrace that each and every living thing has a glowing shard of what of once was the universal collective soul. Like shattered glass shards, the collective universal soul was broken up into kabillions (I know that's not really a word) of bits and each of us has a little shard (not shart) and our purpose is to rejoin the little shards back to the universal God. We are the broken Humpty Dumpty that fell off the wall and we need to be put back together again.
Moral of the story: The next time somebody calls you an "as soul" turn around, give him/her the biggest, warmest smile and thank them.
There's a lot of truth to that.
As souls, we all have work to do on ourselves. I'm really trying to embrace that each and every living thing has a glowing shard of what of once was the universal collective soul. Like shattered glass shards, the collective universal soul was broken up into kabillions (I know that's not really a word) of bits and each of us has a little shard (not shart) and our purpose is to rejoin the little shards back to the universal God. We are the broken Humpty Dumpty that fell off the wall and we need to be put back together again.
Moral of the story: The next time somebody calls you an "as soul" turn around, give him/her the biggest, warmest smile and thank them.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Rohnert Park Wal-Mart
I have not been to the Rohnert Park Wal-Mart in 22 years. How do I know that? Because I purchased an item of clothing that I wore for a family photograph from there almost exactly 22 years ago to the date. I hate that store with a passion.
Today I returned there after nearly a quarter century as it was rumored they sold pretzel buns. I was not in the mood to make them and as I was going to Costco anyways (which did not have pretzel buns, either) Wal-Mart was just a skip up the street.
Now I remember why I don't shop there.
Walking into the store there was the toothless crack- head gray-haired grandma donning a SF 49'ers jacket with a filthy skirt, rumpled socks, and sandals. She" was conversing with a homeless woman who was camped out at the entrance of Wal-Mart complete with her shopping cart full of goods, tent made out of plastic bags, and just about passed out right there on the cement.
Oh no, people... I have not even made it to the entrance of the store yet.
As I was walking to the entrance of the store there were some people in back of me. All I could hear was, "Horny porn star, coming through!"
I did not hear it just once. It was said repeatedly, "Horny porn star - coming through" I did not turn around to see who the horny porn star was as that would only validate their announcement. I really wanted to laugh, as hearing this at Wal-Mart is so cliché. Once inside the store it looked like something out of a third-world country. I could not wait to get out of there.
No, WalMart did NOT have the pretzel buns I was looking for. That's ok. I was glad. Just less time to get out of there.
Again, I tripped over the homeless meth-head woman camped out in front of the store on the way out. The Horny Porn Star got lost inside the WalMart crowd and I was relieved of the barker. There were aisles of campers, RV's, boats, and other pieces of s*** parked in the WalMart parking lot. It was like a refugee camp. You know what???? It really is. WalMarts are bona fide camping grounds. I bet you did not know that.
They really do cater to the trailer-trash crowd.
Today I returned there after nearly a quarter century as it was rumored they sold pretzel buns. I was not in the mood to make them and as I was going to Costco anyways (which did not have pretzel buns, either) Wal-Mart was just a skip up the street.
Now I remember why I don't shop there.
Walking into the store there was the toothless crack- head gray-haired grandma donning a SF 49'ers jacket with a filthy skirt, rumpled socks, and sandals. She" was conversing with a homeless woman who was camped out at the entrance of Wal-Mart complete with her shopping cart full of goods, tent made out of plastic bags, and just about passed out right there on the cement.
Oh no, people... I have not even made it to the entrance of the store yet.
As I was walking to the entrance of the store there were some people in back of me. All I could hear was, "Horny porn star, coming through!"
I did not hear it just once. It was said repeatedly, "Horny porn star - coming through" I did not turn around to see who the horny porn star was as that would only validate their announcement. I really wanted to laugh, as hearing this at Wal-Mart is so cliché. Once inside the store it looked like something out of a third-world country. I could not wait to get out of there.
No, WalMart did NOT have the pretzel buns I was looking for. That's ok. I was glad. Just less time to get out of there.
Again, I tripped over the homeless meth-head woman camped out in front of the store on the way out. The Horny Porn Star got lost inside the WalMart crowd and I was relieved of the barker. There were aisles of campers, RV's, boats, and other pieces of s*** parked in the WalMart parking lot. It was like a refugee camp. You know what???? It really is. WalMarts are bona fide camping grounds. I bet you did not know that.
They really do cater to the trailer-trash crowd.
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Affordable Housing - Real Estate Commissions
Here's the real definition of affordable housing: slave quarters. Let's just get that out there in the open, OK? The sooner we realize we need SLAVE QUARTERS the sooner we can get over the euphemism AFFORDABLE HOUSING.
I've griped on this subject before. Let's be real. There is no way somebody making $20 an hour can even afford a 2 bedroom apartment in Sonoma County (if they are lucky enough to even find one) unless they live with a bunch of other people. Sorry, but not everybody on earth was lucky enough to inherit something or have wealthy parents.
There are many reasons housing is out of reach. I know my cute crush, Christopher Thornburg, seems to think that building more houses will magically solve our problems; however, at this point he is just a paid puppet telling the business world audience what they want to hear. If not, they would not be paying $75 for a crappy breakfast. If he told the truth we would all shoot ourselves after he spoke.
IMHO opinion, here are the reasons "affordable housing" aka SLAVE QUARTERS will never exist:
1. Nobody sells their house to the lowest bidder;
2. Real estate agents get paid by a percentage. It's in their monetary best self-interest to keep housing prices high. You really think they're working for the buyer? If you believe that, I have a bridge I want to sell you. Real estate agents want to close the deal at the highest price point you can take;
3. NIMBY's rule. Everybody wants to use modern slaves (cooks, gardeners, etc.) but nobody wants to embrace them into society and have them as a neighbor. It's like enjoying all of our modern conveniences but shove off unpleasant, pollution-inducing production to China where it's not in our immediate vision;
4. Property taxes are determined by the selling cost of a house. I don't care how much Sonoma County says otherwise, it's in their best interests to keep housing costs high as well. Higher the price = higher the property tax. We all know how government employees need to keep the trough full for their obnoxious perks and pensions;
5. Environmentalists. People and business are bad for the environment. The more people, the more demands for resources, the more they pollute, etc.;
6. Sonoma County is a jewel of a place and that's why people want to live here. Why is it special? Because it's not overcrowded (yet) and clean. See reason #5. If we build more it will lose charm. Everybody wants to live here, but it's cost prohibitive because, well, people just ruin things and we really don't want more of them around no matter how we tell the public otherwise;
7. We need to make a decision as to whether we become San Jose North or a resort community like Carmel. Either way, we will still need SLAVE QUARTERS;
8. NOBODY HAS FIGURED A WAY AROUND THE LAW OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND....not even cutie-pie Christopher Thornburg.
I'm not sitting here thinking I have the answers to all of this. I don't. All I know is that for every finger I point at things I find annoying and wrong, three are pointing back at ME.
I've griped on this subject before. Let's be real. There is no way somebody making $20 an hour can even afford a 2 bedroom apartment in Sonoma County (if they are lucky enough to even find one) unless they live with a bunch of other people. Sorry, but not everybody on earth was lucky enough to inherit something or have wealthy parents.
There are many reasons housing is out of reach. I know my cute crush, Christopher Thornburg, seems to think that building more houses will magically solve our problems; however, at this point he is just a paid puppet telling the business world audience what they want to hear. If not, they would not be paying $75 for a crappy breakfast. If he told the truth we would all shoot ourselves after he spoke.
IMHO opinion, here are the reasons "affordable housing" aka SLAVE QUARTERS will never exist:
1. Nobody sells their house to the lowest bidder;
2. Real estate agents get paid by a percentage. It's in their monetary best self-interest to keep housing prices high. You really think they're working for the buyer? If you believe that, I have a bridge I want to sell you. Real estate agents want to close the deal at the highest price point you can take;
3. NIMBY's rule. Everybody wants to use modern slaves (cooks, gardeners, etc.) but nobody wants to embrace them into society and have them as a neighbor. It's like enjoying all of our modern conveniences but shove off unpleasant, pollution-inducing production to China where it's not in our immediate vision;
4. Property taxes are determined by the selling cost of a house. I don't care how much Sonoma County says otherwise, it's in their best interests to keep housing costs high as well. Higher the price = higher the property tax. We all know how government employees need to keep the trough full for their obnoxious perks and pensions;
5. Environmentalists. People and business are bad for the environment. The more people, the more demands for resources, the more they pollute, etc.;
6. Sonoma County is a jewel of a place and that's why people want to live here. Why is it special? Because it's not overcrowded (yet) and clean. See reason #5. If we build more it will lose charm. Everybody wants to live here, but it's cost prohibitive because, well, people just ruin things and we really don't want more of them around no matter how we tell the public otherwise;
7. We need to make a decision as to whether we become San Jose North or a resort community like Carmel. Either way, we will still need SLAVE QUARTERS;
8. NOBODY HAS FIGURED A WAY AROUND THE LAW OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND....not even cutie-pie Christopher Thornburg.
I'm not sitting here thinking I have the answers to all of this. I don't. All I know is that for every finger I point at things I find annoying and wrong, three are pointing back at ME.
Friday, November 17, 2017
Amazon Prime Account Hack and FEMA Fraud
Blame it on the Equifax security data breach? Blame it on TurboTax and the IRS? Blame it on Anthem Blue Cross? Blame it on Microsoft? I've received so many notices now in regards to my personal identification being compromised it's become just another daily nuisance to deal with. Seriously, I'm spending more and more of my precious time on the phone and writing letters cancelling credit cards, subscriptions, and loans I did not apply for. I've put a stringent freeze on my credit and notified the proper authorities the identity theft, but do you really trust Equifax and the other credit reporting agencies to carry through with freezing my credit when they so sloppily handle it to begin with? I think not.
The onus is on us, the innocent party, to constantly monitor and scrutinize any activity. It's taking up more and more of my time, folks. I've got better things to do than to defend my innocence while the perpetrators attempt to collect cash at my expense (pun intended). Is this what a perfect 850 credit score gets you? Of course. People want to use my credit track record because they trashed theirs.
I received a phone call from somebody claiming they were from FEMA in regards to the disaster claim filed in the North Bay Fires and wanted to schedule a site visit. I know better than to give out any more information over the phone than necessary. We did at one time live in a house that was completely destroyed by the recent fires and a quick internet search discloses that. However, we have not lived in that house for some years now. I asked the person on the phone which address was used to file the claim. They answered with an area in Sonoma County that was not heavily impacted by the fires. Trash the claim. Fraud.
The next day or so I received a letter via snail mail from the Small Business Administration saying that a claim had been filed for a disaster relief loan. Again, fraud. However, dealing with it took up an hour time on hold.
Yesterday I went on my Amazon account to purchase a gift for somebody. The associated email address was one I did not recognize and I could not get into my own account. Somebody hacked my account. After doing some digging with the Amazon fraud department we figured out that it was a student in Texas who wanted my free six-month prime membership and free kindle book downloads. There was no monetary damage done, but somebody was riding on the coattails of my account. The Amazon representative and I had a little fun with the perpetrator. Long story short account access will be cut off once the fraudulent fish bites a big fat worm.
I'm telling you: snail mail and cash are making a comeback. It reminds me of a song lyric by Sting (love him). Never seen a miracle of science that did not go from a blessing to a curse
The onus is on us, the innocent party, to constantly monitor and scrutinize any activity. It's taking up more and more of my time, folks. I've got better things to do than to defend my innocence while the perpetrators attempt to collect cash at my expense (pun intended). Is this what a perfect 850 credit score gets you? Of course. People want to use my credit track record because they trashed theirs.
I received a phone call from somebody claiming they were from FEMA in regards to the disaster claim filed in the North Bay Fires and wanted to schedule a site visit. I know better than to give out any more information over the phone than necessary. We did at one time live in a house that was completely destroyed by the recent fires and a quick internet search discloses that. However, we have not lived in that house for some years now. I asked the person on the phone which address was used to file the claim. They answered with an area in Sonoma County that was not heavily impacted by the fires. Trash the claim. Fraud.
The next day or so I received a letter via snail mail from the Small Business Administration saying that a claim had been filed for a disaster relief loan. Again, fraud. However, dealing with it took up an hour time on hold.
Yesterday I went on my Amazon account to purchase a gift for somebody. The associated email address was one I did not recognize and I could not get into my own account. Somebody hacked my account. After doing some digging with the Amazon fraud department we figured out that it was a student in Texas who wanted my free six-month prime membership and free kindle book downloads. There was no monetary damage done, but somebody was riding on the coattails of my account. The Amazon representative and I had a little fun with the perpetrator. Long story short account access will be cut off once the fraudulent fish bites a big fat worm.
I'm telling you: snail mail and cash are making a comeback. It reminds me of a song lyric by Sting (love him). Never seen a miracle of science that did not go from a blessing to a curse
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Kitchen Ballet
My sister-in-law was over the other day. As always, I was cooking in the kitchen and she was sitting at the counter shooting the breeze with me. She made a comment about the way I move about the kitchen. She said it was like watching kitchen ballet. I glide, slide, spin ever so gracefully putting food together that looks like a dance. I guess I know my kitchen really well. I know where everything is.....and I get uber upset if somebody messes with it. It's my happy space. It makes me happy to make others happy with what I cook.
Next week is Thanksgiving. How many are YOU cooking for? Me? This year about 20 or so. I don't cheat and go to Safeway or order a meal from Raley's. Everything is done the way grandma did it right down to the 75 year-old roaster I use. I do it up Midwest farm-style. No, this is not the time to substitute kale for stuffing nor olive oil for butter. It's one meal a year, folks, so spare me the health food lectures. The old farmers had less health problems than today and they ate lard 365 days a year. Relax. I always think I make plenty of food but when it's all said and done there's really not much left over. I take that as the highest of compliments.
New this year: I'm horrible at baking - especially breads. We've been experiencing an extreme pretzel bun shortage here in Northern California. My son, who is an awesome bread baker, will be giving the pretzel bun baking experience a shot.
Next week is Thanksgiving. How many are YOU cooking for? Me? This year about 20 or so. I don't cheat and go to Safeway or order a meal from Raley's. Everything is done the way grandma did it right down to the 75 year-old roaster I use. I do it up Midwest farm-style. No, this is not the time to substitute kale for stuffing nor olive oil for butter. It's one meal a year, folks, so spare me the health food lectures. The old farmers had less health problems than today and they ate lard 365 days a year. Relax. I always think I make plenty of food but when it's all said and done there's really not much left over. I take that as the highest of compliments.
New this year: I'm horrible at baking - especially breads. We've been experiencing an extreme pretzel bun shortage here in Northern California. My son, who is an awesome bread baker, will be giving the pretzel bun baking experience a shot.
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
Red Neck Blue Tooth Speaker and Wine Glass
Thinking about you, little brother. In doing so I got out my red neck blue tooth speaker and my red neck wine glass. To make the red neck wine glass complete make SURE you put an ice cube in with that refrigerated grape juice that comes in a box, ok?? Who da thunk the red solo cup would be so iconic of all that is white trash? I LOVE IT!!!!! Let all the uppity-upps hang out in their perfect houses all trying to one up each other on everything. On the contrary to the uppity upps, we all know we are a bunch of sorry *ss losers and just want to have FUN and we can laugh at ourselves. That's why white trash like us always has a house full of people and friends. We're never lonely. Salute!!! Red Solo Cup!! It's so loved that Toby Keith wrote a song about it (below). .......and yes, I would be the Princess Leah at the party.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
For Little Brother
My younger brother is a very jovial, friendly person and everybody loves him, which is a typical trait for the 'baby' of the family. He should have been a comedian. His wife is also a very friendly person and they both like to have a good time. No crime in that. Despite his friendliness he is not afraid to call people on their crap. He's much more diplomatic in doing so than I. He will call people on their crap with a more humorous tone, and I just rip out juggler veins and let people bleed out while I stand on their chests looking down and smirking.
I have not seen my brother and his wife for a while and I miss them. There is a song that reminds me of them and they are NOT afraid to sing it out loud. Here it is
I have not seen my brother and his wife for a while and I miss them. There is a song that reminds me of them and they are NOT afraid to sing it out loud. Here it is
Monday, November 13, 2017
Santa Rosa Afternoon
For the first time since the fire we drove past of the pile of ash that used to be our old house in Coffey Park. I'm not sure if I'm glad I visited the site or not. No trace of my rose bushes I worked so hard to grow and flourish. That was to be expected. The house numbers were miraculously still visible on the curb. A flood of memories came rushing back: moving in, painting and decorating the rooms, getting the nursery ready for baby #2, trick-or-treating with the neighbors, holidays, etc. Oddly enough, the most disturbing thing was seeing the twisted and melted metal that was the shed my husband and brother-in-law put up along side of the house. I had to pause and grieve it. I liken it to seeing the body at a funeral viewing. We all know the person is dead, but somehow seeing it gives a sense of closure and brings up emotions you never knew you had.
You know Quiet Rage. I could not stay in that melancholy mind set and went to the Santa Rosa Mall downtown and it did not take long for me to find something to gripe about. You're shocked, right? LOL
Shopping malls are a dying breed. The gross meccas glorifying consumerism are being replaced by a computer and a delivery truck. It's just too easy to sit at home in pajamas with a cup of coffee and click around than to deal with: traffic, parking, waiting in line, crowds, making a special trip only to find they don't have the size/color you want, etc. It doesn't take a marketing genius to figure that in order to attract what's left of retail shopping it needs to be a PLEASANT and FUN experience.
Neither applied to my visit at the Santa Rosa Mall. There's a reason why I visit that place about once every-other-year.
Parking is a cluster F. Just getting into the garage rivals New York City during rush hour. Yes.... remember to take your stupid ticket upon entering and bring it with you. Once inside the mall the clerks moved at the pace of sloths. Waiting for my single item purchase to be paid for took 35 minutes. OK. I have my single item. I'm outta there. Not so fast. There is no free parking on the weekends for people who want to run in and out to buy something at the mall. The minimum fee is $1. There is only ONE machine for the entire garage to pay for parking. I could not believe it. I had to wait to get my purchase paid for, and now I have to wait to pay for parking. Here's a picture:
Are you KIDDING me?????? Really????? I thought once I waited my turn, which took forever, to pay my lousy $1 that I would be home free. Not so fast. The line of autos trying to exit the garage took another 16 minutes. The whole experience was frustrating beyond belief. No wonder why I avoid the Santa Rosa Mall like the plague.
You know Quiet Rage. I could not stay in that melancholy mind set and went to the Santa Rosa Mall downtown and it did not take long for me to find something to gripe about. You're shocked, right? LOL
Shopping malls are a dying breed. The gross meccas glorifying consumerism are being replaced by a computer and a delivery truck. It's just too easy to sit at home in pajamas with a cup of coffee and click around than to deal with: traffic, parking, waiting in line, crowds, making a special trip only to find they don't have the size/color you want, etc. It doesn't take a marketing genius to figure that in order to attract what's left of retail shopping it needs to be a PLEASANT and FUN experience.
Neither applied to my visit at the Santa Rosa Mall. There's a reason why I visit that place about once every-other-year.
Parking is a cluster F. Just getting into the garage rivals New York City during rush hour. Yes.... remember to take your stupid ticket upon entering and bring it with you. Once inside the mall the clerks moved at the pace of sloths. Waiting for my single item purchase to be paid for took 35 minutes. OK. I have my single item. I'm outta there. Not so fast. There is no free parking on the weekends for people who want to run in and out to buy something at the mall. The minimum fee is $1. There is only ONE machine for the entire garage to pay for parking. I could not believe it. I had to wait to get my purchase paid for, and now I have to wait to pay for parking. Here's a picture:
Saturday, November 11, 2017
Helping Fire Victims
We all want to help the North Bay Fire victims. Concerts and fundraisers are springing up all over the place. Be careful where you send your donations to. All these events claiming to raise money for the victims can be deceiving. Somehow it's always publicized as to how much the charity event raised with cheers and accolades, but never a word about how it's distributed. Some questions to ask:
1. What percentage goes directly to the fire victims;
2. Is there anything taken out of donations for overhead or operating costs;
3. How is the charity finding the people to distribute money to - or how are they finding the charity;
4. Are your donations going to a tax-exempt entity registered with a federal identification number;
5. Who is overseeing the distributions to make sure they're going for the intended purpose;
6. How much is each victim receiving;
7. How do you define a fire victim? Somebody who lost everything? Somebody who lost a motorcycle or a car but not their house? Somebody who lost a pet;
8. What vetting process does the charity use to make sure claims of victimhood are valid;
9. What will be the timeline for distributions to the fire victims? Immediately? Next month? Next year? Will there be one flat distribution or several over time? How do you decide the amount distributed to victims? Does each victim get a pre-determined flat amount? Are they all equal;
10. Will the charity offer up an accounting of where the money went and to whom after funds have been disbursed?
I'd like to see the Press Democrat do a series on how the fire victim donations are really spent and the timeline of giving aid and how that's determined. I'm curious as to how much "donations" are used to shore up somebody else's unrelated financial obligations. I am by no means discouraging generosity. I'm encouraging transparent transactions as to how the funds are spent (or not).
1. What percentage goes directly to the fire victims;
2. Is there anything taken out of donations for overhead or operating costs;
3. How is the charity finding the people to distribute money to - or how are they finding the charity;
4. Are your donations going to a tax-exempt entity registered with a federal identification number;
5. Who is overseeing the distributions to make sure they're going for the intended purpose;
6. How much is each victim receiving;
7. How do you define a fire victim? Somebody who lost everything? Somebody who lost a motorcycle or a car but not their house? Somebody who lost a pet;
8. What vetting process does the charity use to make sure claims of victimhood are valid;
9. What will be the timeline for distributions to the fire victims? Immediately? Next month? Next year? Will there be one flat distribution or several over time? How do you decide the amount distributed to victims? Does each victim get a pre-determined flat amount? Are they all equal;
10. Will the charity offer up an accounting of where the money went and to whom after funds have been disbursed?
I'd like to see the Press Democrat do a series on how the fire victim donations are really spent and the timeline of giving aid and how that's determined. I'm curious as to how much "donations" are used to shore up somebody else's unrelated financial obligations. I am by no means discouraging generosity. I'm encouraging transparent transactions as to how the funds are spent (or not).
Friday, November 10, 2017
Small Business Survival
A small business has a 20% chance of making it. The most difficult phase is the start-up phase meaning the first five years. If you're planning on going into business for yourself I highly recommend getting together with the SBA (Small Business Administration) as they are a wealth of information. Most of the people are successful businessmen (or women) who have been-there-done-that. Most of the time their services are free as the program is funded by the federal government.
Why do people go into business with the odds so heavily against them? Because they don't have a clue as to what they're really getting into. By the time they figure out what an enormous responsibility it is they have leveraged their homes and any assets they have to finance the business. Trapped.
People don't consider the taxes, insurance, and licensing involved. Just that alone will drive any person over the edge. Ready for your first lawsuit when somebody slips on a banana peel on your floor? Even if you're totally in the clear it will be your time and energy defending the claim which is an enormous time suck -- all the while still trying to run your business.
God forbid if you hire an employee as that presents even more stringent rules and regulations and more filing of paperwork. Do you have your employee handbook ready? Do you have your required Cal-Fed posters up? Do you have your workers' compensation kit in a visible area? Good luck trying to fire anybody - did you clearly document everything and follow protocol from hiring to termination? Ohhhhh, you're smarter than actually hiring an employee and decide to "outsource" everything? Don't like all the employee rules and hire somebody as a 1099 independent contractor? Good luck with that, too. The criteria is now so limited that you better be careful. That trick has been played to death and the IRS knows it.
Wait. I have not even gotten to the part of money yet. Isn't that the reason you want to go into business? Depending on the type of business you're going into will determine where you will need to invest. It varies from business to business. I can tell you that one of the most brutal businesses to get into is the restaurant business. It's extremely competitive and your inventory (food) is perishable.
The part that counts the most that gets the least attention is tracking the money. How much do you have in the bank? How much do you owe? How much do others owe YOU? Are you aware of what your overhead costs are? Is any of that flexible? Do you keep track of your inventory? Are you making a profit after all obligations are paid? Don't think you can hire bookkeeper Jane to do this for you and walk away. Some of the sloppiest books I've seen are from so-called CPA's with years of experience. Be hands on with the money. You would be shocked at how much 'disappears' or becomes unaccounted for.
One more thing: the CUSTOMER. You know, the person you sell your goods or services to? Customers can be a PITA (pain-in-the-a**). They will always be working to get a discount from you. They won't pay you if they owe you money. They will complain and whine about everything so you finally cave and give them something for nothing just to shut them up and avoid a negative review on YELP.
After all this you still want to open up your own business? Great. Just know that it's a huge responsibility and chances are you won't make nearly as much money as you thought you would. Some of you will want to prove me wrong. That's the dangling carrot.
Why do people go into business with the odds so heavily against them? Because they don't have a clue as to what they're really getting into. By the time they figure out what an enormous responsibility it is they have leveraged their homes and any assets they have to finance the business. Trapped.
People don't consider the taxes, insurance, and licensing involved. Just that alone will drive any person over the edge. Ready for your first lawsuit when somebody slips on a banana peel on your floor? Even if you're totally in the clear it will be your time and energy defending the claim which is an enormous time suck -- all the while still trying to run your business.
God forbid if you hire an employee as that presents even more stringent rules and regulations and more filing of paperwork. Do you have your employee handbook ready? Do you have your required Cal-Fed posters up? Do you have your workers' compensation kit in a visible area? Good luck trying to fire anybody - did you clearly document everything and follow protocol from hiring to termination? Ohhhhh, you're smarter than actually hiring an employee and decide to "outsource" everything? Don't like all the employee rules and hire somebody as a 1099 independent contractor? Good luck with that, too. The criteria is now so limited that you better be careful. That trick has been played to death and the IRS knows it.
Wait. I have not even gotten to the part of money yet. Isn't that the reason you want to go into business? Depending on the type of business you're going into will determine where you will need to invest. It varies from business to business. I can tell you that one of the most brutal businesses to get into is the restaurant business. It's extremely competitive and your inventory (food) is perishable.
The part that counts the most that gets the least attention is tracking the money. How much do you have in the bank? How much do you owe? How much do others owe YOU? Are you aware of what your overhead costs are? Is any of that flexible? Do you keep track of your inventory? Are you making a profit after all obligations are paid? Don't think you can hire bookkeeper Jane to do this for you and walk away. Some of the sloppiest books I've seen are from so-called CPA's with years of experience. Be hands on with the money. You would be shocked at how much 'disappears' or becomes unaccounted for.
One more thing: the CUSTOMER. You know, the person you sell your goods or services to? Customers can be a PITA (pain-in-the-a**). They will always be working to get a discount from you. They won't pay you if they owe you money. They will complain and whine about everything so you finally cave and give them something for nothing just to shut them up and avoid a negative review on YELP.
After all this you still want to open up your own business? Great. Just know that it's a huge responsibility and chances are you won't make nearly as much money as you thought you would. Some of you will want to prove me wrong. That's the dangling carrot.
Thursday, November 9, 2017
Washington
I'm going to Washington. Depending on where that is depends on where you are geographically. If you say you're going to Washington in the western part of the U.S. people assume you're going to Washington (the state). If you say you're going to Washington in the eastern part of the United States people assume Washington D.C.
There's a portion of the country in-between that is confused by Washington. When people say Washington it's followed by a question of D.C. or state? This throws off people from the east or west as they never put that possibility together.
It's kind of like Indians. People from India are Indians. We refer to Native Americans as Indians. The question gets asked when somebody identifies themselves as being Indian -- does that mean casino or gas station?
Settle down all you uptight PC doo-gooders and have a sense of humor.
There's a portion of the country in-between that is confused by Washington. When people say Washington it's followed by a question of D.C. or state? This throws off people from the east or west as they never put that possibility together.
It's kind of like Indians. People from India are Indians. We refer to Native Americans as Indians. The question gets asked when somebody identifies themselves as being Indian -- does that mean casino or gas station?
Settle down all you uptight PC doo-gooders and have a sense of humor.
Monday, November 6, 2017
Retar
No, that's not a type for retard. It's retar. I'll explain why in just a moment.
I was at a gathering yesterday. It was kind of an awkward gathering because the dynamics were weird. The conversation was not flowing naturally. Looking for a conversation topic that would not ignite WWIII nor cause any other family hostility that does not need to be inflamed, I started talking about growing up in the 1970's. Think about it. We played with: toxic waste (slime), had lead paint, did not wear helmets, played outside unsupervised, ate chemicals (McDonald's and other fast food), did not wear seatbelts....you get the hint.
That got the conversation going and people started to loosen up a bit. We all started to laugh at all the not-so-PC things that happened in the 1970's that would not happen today. One guy in the group, who has always been kind of a goof-ball, chimed in. He said, "When I was a kid growing up in San Francisco we would pick the tar out of the cracks in the road and chew on them."
Really???? He ate TAR???
I could not help but call him a RETAR.
I was at a gathering yesterday. It was kind of an awkward gathering because the dynamics were weird. The conversation was not flowing naturally. Looking for a conversation topic that would not ignite WWIII nor cause any other family hostility that does not need to be inflamed, I started talking about growing up in the 1970's. Think about it. We played with: toxic waste (slime), had lead paint, did not wear helmets, played outside unsupervised, ate chemicals (McDonald's and other fast food), did not wear seatbelts....you get the hint.
That got the conversation going and people started to loosen up a bit. We all started to laugh at all the not-so-PC things that happened in the 1970's that would not happen today. One guy in the group, who has always been kind of a goof-ball, chimed in. He said, "When I was a kid growing up in San Francisco we would pick the tar out of the cracks in the road and chew on them."
Really???? He ate TAR???
I could not help but call him a RETAR.
Saturday, November 4, 2017
Liars
There is only one thing I hate more than liars - liars who lie when caught lying. Well, what should I really expect from a habitual liar...the truth??? I have more respect for liars who man-up when caught. Actually, I forgive them if they ask that of me. Until then? Get out of my sight.
(heavy sigh) When will the guys I work with figure out that they can't bullshit me? See, I have a fresh batch now that I am dealing with. They are all newbies and think they know everything. Youth and arrogance prevail their thinking. They also want to dismiss me because I'm a woman. Little did they know that I eat people like them for breakfast.
This ain't my first rodeo.
About a year or so ago the guys I interact with at work had a huge shake up and the whole department changed personnel (all guys). The "lead" guy, knowing that I'm a tough customer, kept trying to persuade me to trust him. He went on and on for months telling me he did not have a hidden agenda and that everything he does is for the betterment of the industry...why don't I just openly TRUST him? It bothered him so much that he went around to others in my industry whining that I don't trust him. Red flag. When somebody brings that much attention to "trust" that means they're not trustworthy. In my line of work, and I should say in my personal life as well, my trust is very difficult to win over. If I do end up trusting somebody and they violate that trust - it's over.
When that happens you will be sorry you ever met me.
Long story short I caught the guy who was so concerned about my trusting him in a lie. When I confronted him he lied again. He tried to turn the tables on me, but I don't buy that distraction. That pissed him off even more. He went crying and whining to the president of the company (for lack of a better description of the position).
Well, you give somebody enough rope they hang themselves. The idiot (guy who is begging for my trust) left evidence of his untrustworthiness in a string of emails that ended up in my email inbox from the president of the company (from forwarding to too many people and forgetting to eliminate email addresses from previous recipients). The president had clear evidence of the lies that were trying to be sold to me as truth.
Today, Saturday, early in the morning the president of the company calls my cell phone. The president was also wondering why I had such a hard time "trusting" the guy begging for my trust. After the evidence via email proved his untrustworthiness, the president's message on my cell phone was very sheepish - he was at a loss for words and admitted it.
DON'T FUCK WITH ME UNLESS YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(heavy sigh) When will the guys I work with figure out that they can't bullshit me? See, I have a fresh batch now that I am dealing with. They are all newbies and think they know everything. Youth and arrogance prevail their thinking. They also want to dismiss me because I'm a woman. Little did they know that I eat people like them for breakfast.
This ain't my first rodeo.
About a year or so ago the guys I interact with at work had a huge shake up and the whole department changed personnel (all guys). The "lead" guy, knowing that I'm a tough customer, kept trying to persuade me to trust him. He went on and on for months telling me he did not have a hidden agenda and that everything he does is for the betterment of the industry...why don't I just openly TRUST him? It bothered him so much that he went around to others in my industry whining that I don't trust him. Red flag. When somebody brings that much attention to "trust" that means they're not trustworthy. In my line of work, and I should say in my personal life as well, my trust is very difficult to win over. If I do end up trusting somebody and they violate that trust - it's over.
When that happens you will be sorry you ever met me.
Long story short I caught the guy who was so concerned about my trusting him in a lie. When I confronted him he lied again. He tried to turn the tables on me, but I don't buy that distraction. That pissed him off even more. He went crying and whining to the president of the company (for lack of a better description of the position).
Well, you give somebody enough rope they hang themselves. The idiot (guy who is begging for my trust) left evidence of his untrustworthiness in a string of emails that ended up in my email inbox from the president of the company (from forwarding to too many people and forgetting to eliminate email addresses from previous recipients). The president had clear evidence of the lies that were trying to be sold to me as truth.
Today, Saturday, early in the morning the president of the company calls my cell phone. The president was also wondering why I had such a hard time "trusting" the guy begging for my trust. After the evidence via email proved his untrustworthiness, the president's message on my cell phone was very sheepish - he was at a loss for words and admitted it.
DON'T FUCK WITH ME UNLESS YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, November 3, 2017
Wendy
Sorry, but that name has always had a slightly negative association in my mind. Shortly before I was born, my aunt lost a baby girl that they had named Wendy. I became a symbol of what they lost being born just a couple weeks later and I always felt the sad energy. I remember going to the cemetery and seeing her grave. She was a stillborn.
There was a Wendy who lived up the street from us growing up. She was the sister of a *very* good childhood friend of mine. She could be a "B" at times, but I'm sure having her pesky little sister and friend around was annoying. Wendy was the same age as my older brother and went all through school together. In about 7th grade or so I think my brother had a crush on Wendy. The feelings weren't reciprocal. I remember once he figured that out he would find ways to criticize Wendy. At the conclusion of each school year he would bring home his yearbook and find every picture of Wendy. He would then point out to me, "Look. Wendy has her mouth open in every picture."
I don't dare guess what was going through my brother's head when he made that comment, but for me it was an everlasting impression. Wendy = big mouth open. I began to notice the other girls named Wendy in my school. Yup... there's a trend. Every Wendy had a big mouth that tended to be open more than shut.
I don't know of any California gals named Wendy. I wonder if that impression holds true out here. What made me even think about it was the song by the Association (who I saw live one time in Tahoe - another story). I realize the song is titled "Windy" and not "Wendy" but try to explain that to a seven-year-old. I heard the song on the radio driving my car and all the memories just started flooding back. I would like to meet a California Wendy just to see;)
There was a Wendy who lived up the street from us growing up. She was the sister of a *very* good childhood friend of mine. She could be a "B" at times, but I'm sure having her pesky little sister and friend around was annoying. Wendy was the same age as my older brother and went all through school together. In about 7th grade or so I think my brother had a crush on Wendy. The feelings weren't reciprocal. I remember once he figured that out he would find ways to criticize Wendy. At the conclusion of each school year he would bring home his yearbook and find every picture of Wendy. He would then point out to me, "Look. Wendy has her mouth open in every picture."
I don't dare guess what was going through my brother's head when he made that comment, but for me it was an everlasting impression. Wendy = big mouth open. I began to notice the other girls named Wendy in my school. Yup... there's a trend. Every Wendy had a big mouth that tended to be open more than shut.
I don't know of any California gals named Wendy. I wonder if that impression holds true out here. What made me even think about it was the song by the Association (who I saw live one time in Tahoe - another story). I realize the song is titled "Windy" and not "Wendy" but try to explain that to a seven-year-old. I heard the song on the radio driving my car and all the memories just started flooding back. I would like to meet a California Wendy just to see;)
Monday, October 30, 2017
Pretzel Buns and Mexican Food
I need to write about something light today...well, actually, all my writing is dribble. I need to write about PRETZEL BUNS, and no, I'm not referencing somebody with a twisted derriere. Look at these lovely baked pieces of heaven
For whatever reason, unbeknownst to me, pretzel buns seem to be something like Big Foot around here in California. People have seen glimpses of sightings seasonally at Costco, but pretzel buns still remain something of myth and mystery around here. Why????? They are delicious!!!! When we do get some occasionally, they fly off the shelves faster than the latest Cabbage Patch Kid (wow, I'm dating myself).
There is NOTHING like a warm pretzel bun with ham and cheese. One of my Minnesota besties, JLB, introduced them to me a couple years ago. I had never even heard of a pretzel bun before. It was love at first bite. I thought California had an edge on everything to do with food and we had the most diverse selection of everything. We can get gluten-free-no-dairy-organic-exotic (fill in the blank with a food item) but to get a seemingly simple pretzel bun?????. Nope. I have to learn how to make them. I'm not good at baking breads, but my cravings are overriding my poor baking skills.
Now...switching gears completely.
It's happened. One of the female family members is pregnant by an "undocumented immigrant." Or, in other words, an illegal Mexican. I'll spare you any pro or con arguments about this popular topic of debate. Only the facts. My niece began dating "Jose" a while ago. Jose is from a family that slipped across the border into California. Jose's mother kept bugging Jose as to "when are you going to get your girlfriend pregnant?" wow. great reason to have a kid. mom wants to be a grandma and wants her son to have an anchor baby by a white girl with wealthy parents that will permanently give him residency in the U.S. The joke will be when they find out the white girl's rich parents are not as wealthy as they think. It's all an illusion that is steeped in debt.
Mind you this couple is young and they do not have jobs to support themselves let alone a baby. Never mind. My niece is on some sort of assistance that pays for her health insurance. Whatever. My job is to shut my mouth, keep my opinion to myself, and give support when needed. Well, it's needed.
There is going to be a baby shower. My good friend, M, is going to do the catering for it. I'm on standby for additional help. We both love to cook and have often thought of doing catering professionally or opening up a restaurant. M and I decided that would take the fun out of it and we would end up hating each other. Anyway, the baby shower will be interesting as Jose's family speaks practically no English. Talk about two different cultures colliding.
M is a Jewish girl originally from Oakland. I am ghost-white from the Midwest. Our cooking assignment for the shower? The menu requested is Mexican food. It's so ironic... a white girl and a Jew making Mexican food for Mexicans that don't even speak English. It better be good and authentic. I'm intimidated by the task. We can do it, right M? If we fail I'm sure the insults and criticism will be said right there and then in front of us en Espanol. Oh well, let them laugh at us gringas (stupid white bitches).....we're trying to build a Puente (bridge) and make them feel welcome.
Friday, October 27, 2017
Me Too
I know this is already passé, but there is something about the "me too" hashtag campaign that strikes at my very core. Yes, Quiet Rage is part of the "me too" crowd. I'm sure it has influenced my ongoing bitterness at the world. I'm in therapy for that.
It started as a child. My kindergarten bus driver creeped me out. It didn't start that way. I thought he was being super cool by letting me sit on his lap and "drive" the bus. Remember, this was waaaaaaay back in the stone age before Megan's Law, background checks, and helicopter parenting existed.
About age 9-10 ish my sister's male friend, who was 17 or so at the time, tried to kiss me in my parents' basement. It was also about this time boys at school would start asking if I was wearing a bra and if I had pubic hair. I also recall several times a guy following me on my bike. I went to a stranger's house pretending I lived there so he would go away. One time, a guy pulled up and told me to get in his car. He said my mother told him it was OK. My gut told me otherwise. Then there was the creepy uncle who also tried to corner me in the basement at a family function. I got scared, broke free, and sat glued to my parents' side the rest of the time. When I got the courage to tell my mom what happened she said, "Don't tell.... Uncle's Wife would be devastated and it would break her heart."
As a teenager my ass would be routinely grabbed by guys in the hallway at school. By this time I thought this was a demonstration of admiration and not the power play that it really was. My first love (or I thought it was love) took unspeakable sexual liberties with me that have me scarred to this day. I worked as a cocktail waitress where male patrons thought I was on the menu as well. I loathed serving groups of men. They all tried to one-up each other making remarks to each other that were meant for me to be overheard about my body to see how much I would take before I retaliated.
After all of this I ended up in a career that is male dominated. I remember announcing my pregnancy. One of the guys said, "I bet (husband) just HATED doing that to you..ha ha ha."
I didn't think it was funny.
Then there was the issue with prostitutes. It's so common. So many so-called happily married men think nothing of soliciting sex with a prostitute and then go home and tell their wives how much they love them.
I could go on and on....... moral of the story: Guys, we are not just flesh for your pleasure. We have feelings, emotions, hearts, and minds. We are people. How would you like to be poked, prodded, and judged like a piece of meat?
It started as a child. My kindergarten bus driver creeped me out. It didn't start that way. I thought he was being super cool by letting me sit on his lap and "drive" the bus. Remember, this was waaaaaaay back in the stone age before Megan's Law, background checks, and helicopter parenting existed.
About age 9-10 ish my sister's male friend, who was 17 or so at the time, tried to kiss me in my parents' basement. It was also about this time boys at school would start asking if I was wearing a bra and if I had pubic hair. I also recall several times a guy following me on my bike. I went to a stranger's house pretending I lived there so he would go away. One time, a guy pulled up and told me to get in his car. He said my mother told him it was OK. My gut told me otherwise. Then there was the creepy uncle who also tried to corner me in the basement at a family function. I got scared, broke free, and sat glued to my parents' side the rest of the time. When I got the courage to tell my mom what happened she said, "Don't tell.... Uncle's Wife would be devastated and it would break her heart."
As a teenager my ass would be routinely grabbed by guys in the hallway at school. By this time I thought this was a demonstration of admiration and not the power play that it really was. My first love (or I thought it was love) took unspeakable sexual liberties with me that have me scarred to this day. I worked as a cocktail waitress where male patrons thought I was on the menu as well. I loathed serving groups of men. They all tried to one-up each other making remarks to each other that were meant for me to be overheard about my body to see how much I would take before I retaliated.
After all of this I ended up in a career that is male dominated. I remember announcing my pregnancy. One of the guys said, "I bet (husband) just HATED doing that to you..ha ha ha."
I didn't think it was funny.
Then there was the issue with prostitutes. It's so common. So many so-called happily married men think nothing of soliciting sex with a prostitute and then go home and tell their wives how much they love them.
I could go on and on....... moral of the story: Guys, we are not just flesh for your pleasure. We have feelings, emotions, hearts, and minds. We are people. How would you like to be poked, prodded, and judged like a piece of meat?
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Now What?
The news cameras have moved away from our fire disaster and on to the latest twitter posting the twit has posted. Enough already. We all know he's a sociopath and King of Ego. Stop feeding this monster attention. Starve the monster of attention and he will wither away. It doesn't matter if the attention he is getting is negative -- it's still attention and the spotlight -- and that's all that egomaniacs care about.
Here in Sonoma County California, as the East Coast doesn't really give a lick about us, we are shifting through ashes and asking ourselves, "Now What?"
There is no playbook for this, folks. There is nothing to compare this to. There is no disaster plan that covers something of this magnitude other than a nuclear blast.
We are winging this.
Take note people, climate change refugees are something we will see more and more of. A natural disaster will happen that pretty much wipes out a region. The slow lengthy recovery, if recovery happens at all, will take too long for people to deal with. They will just pick up and go elsewhere.
Blame has already been placed on PG&E. For those not from northern California PG&E stands for Pacific Gas and Electric. It's a publically traded utility company on the New York Stock Exchange. People invest in the stock market to make money. People invested in PG&E stock to make money. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put together that the shareholders who invested money in PG&E (you) have this expectation of profits. You would not have invested in PG&E if you did not have that expectation.
In order to make those profits happen corners are cut and safety compromised to make the all mighty financial statements look appealing to investors and shareholders. The management of PG&E to make this happen is not something the shareholders are really into and don't really care about. The shareholders just want profits - at any cost.
Well, shareholders and other investors, it's time to pay the fiddler.
Here in Sonoma County California, as the East Coast doesn't really give a lick about us, we are shifting through ashes and asking ourselves, "Now What?"
There is no playbook for this, folks. There is nothing to compare this to. There is no disaster plan that covers something of this magnitude other than a nuclear blast.
We are winging this.
Take note people, climate change refugees are something we will see more and more of. A natural disaster will happen that pretty much wipes out a region. The slow lengthy recovery, if recovery happens at all, will take too long for people to deal with. They will just pick up and go elsewhere.
Blame has already been placed on PG&E. For those not from northern California PG&E stands for Pacific Gas and Electric. It's a publically traded utility company on the New York Stock Exchange. People invest in the stock market to make money. People invested in PG&E stock to make money. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put together that the shareholders who invested money in PG&E (you) have this expectation of profits. You would not have invested in PG&E if you did not have that expectation.
In order to make those profits happen corners are cut and safety compromised to make the all mighty financial statements look appealing to investors and shareholders. The management of PG&E to make this happen is not something the shareholders are really into and don't really care about. The shareholders just want profits - at any cost.
Well, shareholders and other investors, it's time to pay the fiddler.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Gone With the Wind.....and Fire
This scene is from Gone With the Wind (1939) starring Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh showing them fleeing the Atlanta Fire during the Civil War. Yes, it's the Hollywood version of what happened here in Sonoma County but it's hauntingly similar. I don't like how Clark's character, Rhett, constantly whips the horse but I was not the director of the movie. My point will be made after watching this scene.
In this instance they are coming from south to north. The vultures are already circling to prey on fire victims. They are flooding in from Southern California to Northern California and their main objective is to profit off of this historic disaster. Fellow citizens of Sonoma County BEWARE. Don't be in a rush to settle claims with your insurer. Your insurance company, despite their commercials depicting that they actually care, are out to minimize their losses. Lawyers will be crawling out of the woodwork to get in on this. You will be in the middle with these wolves chewing on all your limbs. Construction contractors with little to no experience and questionable ethics will tell you they can rebuild your home and make it even better.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Smoke gets in your eyes.....lungs, hair, clothing
I have been issuing disaster relief funds to the many in my industry who have lost everything -- and I mean everything. It takes a while for insurance companies to come forth with money and all the other disaster relief assistance requires paperwork and whatnot. We have a fund put aside so I can write checks immediately on the spot and hand them to the victims without any forms whatsoever. I know them personally. I never have seen so many grown men break down and sob. Their stories are sad beyond belief. I felt bad just handing them a check as my life going forward will be a cake walk in comparison. They are like stunned deer in the headlights.
For the first time in about a week the sky can be seen. We have been choking on smoke and ash. The 101 freeway has been nothing but an artery for emergency vehicles coming from all over the country to help fight the fires. The Petaluma airport has been used as a helicopter base.
Good luck finding a hotel room or space at a campsite. Fire refugees are going anywhere they can for shelter and many streets are lined with RV's and campers. Housing rentals are non-existent and some people are gouging fire victims by jacking up the rent. What little housing inventory we had for sale is now seeing increases in prices $20,000 in one day. It's the old story of supply and demand mixed with the greed of opportunists.
It will takes years to rebuild. On the positive side, we have a tremendous opportunity to show the world when we rebuild how we do it. Are we going to have higher density housing? After all, who really needs a huge mansion that is a resource hog? Are we going to use sustainable materials? Are we going to rebuild incorporating renewable energy sources?
Out of the ashes we can be reborn. We can be a phoenix.
For the first time in about a week the sky can be seen. We have been choking on smoke and ash. The 101 freeway has been nothing but an artery for emergency vehicles coming from all over the country to help fight the fires. The Petaluma airport has been used as a helicopter base.
Good luck finding a hotel room or space at a campsite. Fire refugees are going anywhere they can for shelter and many streets are lined with RV's and campers. Housing rentals are non-existent and some people are gouging fire victims by jacking up the rent. What little housing inventory we had for sale is now seeing increases in prices $20,000 in one day. It's the old story of supply and demand mixed with the greed of opportunists.
It will takes years to rebuild. On the positive side, we have a tremendous opportunity to show the world when we rebuild how we do it. Are we going to have higher density housing? After all, who really needs a huge mansion that is a resource hog? Are we going to use sustainable materials? Are we going to rebuild incorporating renewable energy sources?
Out of the ashes we can be reborn. We can be a phoenix.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Sonoma County Fires
This is the first chance I've had to take a breath - as long as I don't suffocate with the surrounding smoke - to take five and give you all the skinny on what's what.
1. Power is out for many businesses and residents. PG&E and AT&T are working relentlessly trying to restore, but this is way more complicated than plugging something into a socket proclaiming, "There. All better."
2. Who will rebuild our communities? We already have a man power shortage for the skilled trades. We have all the money available, but nobody to rebuild. We as a society have shamed anybody who is not pursuing a PhD in Underwater Basket Weaving from UC Berkeley to thinking they are not worthy to live. Guess what. All those underwater basket weaver PhD's can't help us now. They will just sit in their offices and groan on social media our doomsday. Useless. They are not taking in any evacuees. They can't really be bothered when push comes to shove. They just want attention on facebook and social media. Attention whores all. All they type is "hugs and prayers and if there is anything I can do......"......and then they never truly follow through.
3. This will all sink in about a month or so from now when the news cameras move to the next big story. To all those who are now offering to help fulfilling immediate needs -- Thank you. However, we know the real heros will come to aid knowing there will be no news attention nor social media posts with standing ovations and "likes."
4. If you REALLY want to help victims of the fires, ,please know that their immediate needs for the moment are being met. What will count is what happens six months to a year from now...or longer. Sorry, there will be no news media hype complete with cameras nor recognition. it will be just knowing inside yourself that you were a good person when it mattered most.
hope that is what you're truly all about. giving you all the benefit of the doubt. no "likes" on facebook or whatever ego-media you all are on necessary. Please give for the sake of giving...not for what media attention you can get.
1. Power is out for many businesses and residents. PG&E and AT&T are working relentlessly trying to restore, but this is way more complicated than plugging something into a socket proclaiming, "There. All better."
2. Who will rebuild our communities? We already have a man power shortage for the skilled trades. We have all the money available, but nobody to rebuild. We as a society have shamed anybody who is not pursuing a PhD in Underwater Basket Weaving from UC Berkeley to thinking they are not worthy to live. Guess what. All those underwater basket weaver PhD's can't help us now. They will just sit in their offices and groan on social media our doomsday. Useless. They are not taking in any evacuees. They can't really be bothered when push comes to shove. They just want attention on facebook and social media. Attention whores all. All they type is "hugs and prayers and if there is anything I can do......"......and then they never truly follow through.
3. This will all sink in about a month or so from now when the news cameras move to the next big story. To all those who are now offering to help fulfilling immediate needs -- Thank you. However, we know the real heros will come to aid knowing there will be no news attention nor social media posts with standing ovations and "likes."
4. If you REALLY want to help victims of the fires, ,please know that their immediate needs for the moment are being met. What will count is what happens six months to a year from now...or longer. Sorry, there will be no news media hype complete with cameras nor recognition. it will be just knowing inside yourself that you were a good person when it mattered most.
hope that is what you're truly all about. giving you all the benefit of the doubt. no "likes" on facebook or whatever ego-media you all are on necessary. Please give for the sake of giving...not for what media attention you can get.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Operating Systems and Platforms
iPhone, iPad, Android, Windows, Mac, desktops, tablets, laptops, etc. Samsung, Apple, At&T, etc. We have all dealt with various techni-gadgets and their operating systems and software.
Some gadgets play well with other gadgets and their software and others do not. We all have our favorite gadgets. I've tried various gadgets over the years and I compare them to one another. It's hard to say I have an absolute favorite as I liken my techni-gadgets to a tool box. My favorite will depend on the job I have to do. You can't use a screwdriver when you need a hammer. Same with my gadgets. Some gadgets are better for performing certain tasks than others.
Still, I have dealt with some issued gadgets that I loathe. I have spent hours on a gadget that I didn't even really want trying to make it useful. All I get are error codes and crashes no matter what I do. The more I tried, the worse it got. It's not compatible with anything. It's frustrating.
I came to the conclusion that gadgets are like people. Gadgets, like people, are all wired differently. Literally. What works for one gadget won't work for another. Some gadgets require constant attention and maintenance. Some gadgets are not dependable and will crash when you need them the most. Other gadgets you can program, program and reprogram and you will still get error messages. The more energy you put into it the more frustrated you will get, and the outcome will never change as it's just not wired quite right - like people. You can spend enormous amounts of energy on somebody but their core wiring isn't right and the outcome disiappointing.
Moral of the story: Some people have faulty operating systems and no amount of programming will change them. Save your energy and frustration.
Some gadgets play well with other gadgets and their software and others do not. We all have our favorite gadgets. I've tried various gadgets over the years and I compare them to one another. It's hard to say I have an absolute favorite as I liken my techni-gadgets to a tool box. My favorite will depend on the job I have to do. You can't use a screwdriver when you need a hammer. Same with my gadgets. Some gadgets are better for performing certain tasks than others.
Still, I have dealt with some issued gadgets that I loathe. I have spent hours on a gadget that I didn't even really want trying to make it useful. All I get are error codes and crashes no matter what I do. The more I tried, the worse it got. It's not compatible with anything. It's frustrating.
I came to the conclusion that gadgets are like people. Gadgets, like people, are all wired differently. Literally. What works for one gadget won't work for another. Some gadgets require constant attention and maintenance. Some gadgets are not dependable and will crash when you need them the most. Other gadgets you can program, program and reprogram and you will still get error messages. The more energy you put into it the more frustrated you will get, and the outcome will never change as it's just not wired quite right - like people. You can spend enormous amounts of energy on somebody but their core wiring isn't right and the outcome disiappointing.
Moral of the story: Some people have faulty operating systems and no amount of programming will change them. Save your energy and frustration.
Friday, September 29, 2017
Puerto Rico
I feel sorry for the people in Puerto Rico. They could not have picked a worse time for a natural disaster - as if they had a choice. We had three major hurricanes within about 2 weeks of each other. All of the disaster relief had been spent by the time Hurricane Maria decided to hit.
Instead of spending time feeling sorry for ourselves by publically protesting this and that, disrespecting the national anthem, and whining about how life isn't fair (nobody ever said that it would be) and playing the victim card for media attention, why don't we take that energy and attention to help those in Puerto Rico?
This is just the beginning of natural disaster scenarios that will shape the future. Global warming will continue to produce freakishly and more frequently powerful storms that will wipe out places like Puerto Rico leaving behind a colossal mess. I've said this before and I'll say it again. The situation is way more severe than what we are led to believe. If we knew the magnitude of what lies ahead, people would panic. I have just one question: Just where are what are we going to do with all the people?
I'm certain Puerto Rico's residents are all ready to relocate due to this natural disaster. This is the first of many entire populations looking for refuge because global warming.
p.s. Beach front property is a BAD investment. Say good-bye to places like Amsterdam that lie below sea level. Amsterdam will be the next Atlantis.
Instead of spending time feeling sorry for ourselves by publically protesting this and that, disrespecting the national anthem, and whining about how life isn't fair (nobody ever said that it would be) and playing the victim card for media attention, why don't we take that energy and attention to help those in Puerto Rico?
This is just the beginning of natural disaster scenarios that will shape the future. Global warming will continue to produce freakishly and more frequently powerful storms that will wipe out places like Puerto Rico leaving behind a colossal mess. I've said this before and I'll say it again. The situation is way more severe than what we are led to believe. If we knew the magnitude of what lies ahead, people would panic. I have just one question: Just where are what are we going to do with all the people?
I'm certain Puerto Rico's residents are all ready to relocate due to this natural disaster. This is the first of many entire populations looking for refuge because global warming.
p.s. Beach front property is a BAD investment. Say good-bye to places like Amsterdam that lie below sea level. Amsterdam will be the next Atlantis.
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Hillary Clinton: What Went Wrong
We're still talking about the train wreck of the 2016 election. Let's face it. We were doomed. The democrats, who say they are all about the will of the people, squashed Bernie Sanders. I guess the democrats really don't care about the will of the people at all. They only care about keeping their own internal sense of order and political payback system alive and strong.
So now Hillary wants us all to know what went wrong. We know what went wrong. She's the only one who didn't figure it out in time. We don't need her self-serving book deal crying sour grapes trying to place blame on everybody else except herself. No words are necessary.
p.s. I just figured out that with just one little typo Hillary Clinton could be Hillary Clingon. Yup, a cling-on and clawing desperately for what she thought she was owed and entitled to. Karma's a bitch...and no, that's not a misogynistic term although I'm certain in her mind she will twist it as such. No shame in a strong, female dog putting things in their proper place now is there?
So now Hillary wants us all to know what went wrong. We know what went wrong. She's the only one who didn't figure it out in time. We don't need her self-serving book deal crying sour grapes trying to place blame on everybody else except herself. No words are necessary.
Friday, September 22, 2017
California Housing
We have all heard about the California housing problem. Yes, it's expensive to live here. Yes, it's also very beautiful here. Yes, it's a desirable place to live. We are no different than Hawaii and other places where real estate prices are through the roof (no pun intended).
The answer???? Stop producing more and more people. That's a start. Stop being a dumb fuck and I mean that in the most literal sense. More people equals more housing. People require a place to live. Also, nobody can escape the law of supply and demand. Politicians and other do-gooders think they have the answers, but they don't.
For every buyer there is a seller. Don't ever forget that. Maybe we don't have a housing shortage, but rather a greed problem. Tell me of a cocktail party you have been at where somebody was bragging they sold their house to the lowest offer. Silence. I thought so.
Everybody nowadays buys their home with the aspirations of rapid appreciation. Each residential purchase is a temporary, transitional stepping stone until the colossal, pretensious mansion on top of the hill is acquired. Homes are not where families celebrate lives together anymore. Homes are no longer the center of traditions. Gone are the pencil marks on the walls tracking growth of children. Gone are the family cemeteries. Homes used to have souls - and that also created neighborhoods when people actually conversed with each other in the evenings out front as the sun set. There was a human connection that tied us all together. We actually spoke with each other and watched out for each other.
I'm getting off track. When you hear people whine about affordable housing, ask them if they would support a price/equity limit on sellers - kind of like rent control.
I hear the uproar already. Everybody wants to make the most profit from their homes or land when selling. Welcome to capitalism. You can't have it both ways, people.
The answer???? Stop producing more and more people. That's a start. Stop being a dumb fuck and I mean that in the most literal sense. More people equals more housing. People require a place to live. Also, nobody can escape the law of supply and demand. Politicians and other do-gooders think they have the answers, but they don't.
For every buyer there is a seller. Don't ever forget that. Maybe we don't have a housing shortage, but rather a greed problem. Tell me of a cocktail party you have been at where somebody was bragging they sold their house to the lowest offer. Silence. I thought so.
Everybody nowadays buys their home with the aspirations of rapid appreciation. Each residential purchase is a temporary, transitional stepping stone until the colossal, pretensious mansion on top of the hill is acquired. Homes are not where families celebrate lives together anymore. Homes are no longer the center of traditions. Gone are the pencil marks on the walls tracking growth of children. Gone are the family cemeteries. Homes used to have souls - and that also created neighborhoods when people actually conversed with each other in the evenings out front as the sun set. There was a human connection that tied us all together. We actually spoke with each other and watched out for each other.
I'm getting off track. When you hear people whine about affordable housing, ask them if they would support a price/equity limit on sellers - kind of like rent control.
I hear the uproar already. Everybody wants to make the most profit from their homes or land when selling. Welcome to capitalism. You can't have it both ways, people.
Thursday, September 21, 2017
TYD: This one is for you
At the last coven weekend TYD decided to put up Rolling Stone videos. We had forgotten what a skinny little spastic whippet Mick Jagger was. Recipe for fame: Do loads of drugs, grab a mike, spaz out.
Friday, September 15, 2017
The Worst Thing I've Ever Done
I had lunch yesterday with a guy I've worked with for several years. He and I did not always get along. In fact, I recall flying over the conference room table and getting in his face when he pushed me just a little too far. It was a moment I thought I was going to get fired. Instead, I got applause from the other members of the board for sticking up for myself.
Several years have passed and now he and I are friends. Now he is getting older and has some health issues. He is stubborn as all getout and still goes to work everyday despite doctor orders to stay home and rest. He can't. I think he knows that he has more time behind him on this earth than in front of him. He won't admit it, but he's scared. He's losing weight and he's not trying to. That's never good.
I got a history lesson yesterday at lunch. This guy I work with goes back in Sonoma County about 100 years. There are layers upon layers of Hatfield and McCoy type antics that still play into the backgound of Sonoma County society to this day. He told stories about who married whom, whether or not it was a shotgun wedding, and the true identity of the father of some children -- and the husband thought all along the kids were his. Scandalous!!
There were stories about affairs, what happened when one of the spouses found out, the nasty divorce, and all the bitter tactics a spurned lover or spouse do to the current love interest to sabotage the new relationship. There were stories about boot letters and drug dealers. He knows which businesses are actually legitimate and which are fronts for smuggling. He knows which cops are paid off. There were stories about family dynamics and mental illness. The one I found particularly sad was that where a man shot himself. His son used the same gun to kill himself. The grandson used the same gun to kill HIMSELF. Talk about a cycle of self-destruction.
The guy I work with then got off on a tangent about some of the things he's pulled over the years. He said the worst thing he's ever done was smuggle drugs to a woman in rehab. She got caught with them and got kicked out.
I can't make this stuff up, people.
Several years have passed and now he and I are friends. Now he is getting older and has some health issues. He is stubborn as all getout and still goes to work everyday despite doctor orders to stay home and rest. He can't. I think he knows that he has more time behind him on this earth than in front of him. He won't admit it, but he's scared. He's losing weight and he's not trying to. That's never good.
I got a history lesson yesterday at lunch. This guy I work with goes back in Sonoma County about 100 years. There are layers upon layers of Hatfield and McCoy type antics that still play into the backgound of Sonoma County society to this day. He told stories about who married whom, whether or not it was a shotgun wedding, and the true identity of the father of some children -- and the husband thought all along the kids were his. Scandalous!!
There were stories about affairs, what happened when one of the spouses found out, the nasty divorce, and all the bitter tactics a spurned lover or spouse do to the current love interest to sabotage the new relationship. There were stories about boot letters and drug dealers. He knows which businesses are actually legitimate and which are fronts for smuggling. He knows which cops are paid off. There were stories about family dynamics and mental illness. The one I found particularly sad was that where a man shot himself. His son used the same gun to kill himself. The grandson used the same gun to kill HIMSELF. Talk about a cycle of self-destruction.
The guy I work with then got off on a tangent about some of the things he's pulled over the years. He said the worst thing he's ever done was smuggle drugs to a woman in rehab. She got caught with them and got kicked out.
I can't make this stuff up, people.
Friday, September 8, 2017
The Human Virus
I think it was the X-Files movie or one of the tv episodes. I can't remember. Anyway, the plot revolved around the theory that humans were a virus to earth. Think about that.
What does a virus do once it invades its host? It multiplies exponentially sucking off the host (earth) until either one of two things happen:
1. The virus (people) kills the host (earth);
2. The host's (earth) immune system will kick into overdrive in an attempt to kill the virus (people) off.
We can kid ourselves for a little while longer, but we can't have it both ways. We can't live our modern lifestyle without killing the earth. That includes Prius driving, organic free-trade coffee drinkers with their iPhones and liberal bumper stickers and FaceBook posts.
We can't continue to mindlessly pump out more humans without seriously considering the impact more humans have on this earth with ever decreasing natural and economic resources. I, for one, would like to see an environmental impact study done on THAT.
So what's it going to be, Monty? Door number 1 where we kill the earth, or door number 2 where the earth smites us?
I've said this before and I'll say it again, mother earth will be just fine without us, but we can't live without her.....and Spock was right.....it's in our nature to destroy ourselves.
What does a virus do once it invades its host? It multiplies exponentially sucking off the host (earth) until either one of two things happen:
1. The virus (people) kills the host (earth);
2. The host's (earth) immune system will kick into overdrive in an attempt to kill the virus (people) off.
We can kid ourselves for a little while longer, but we can't have it both ways. We can't live our modern lifestyle without killing the earth. That includes Prius driving, organic free-trade coffee drinkers with their iPhones and liberal bumper stickers and FaceBook posts.
We can't continue to mindlessly pump out more humans without seriously considering the impact more humans have on this earth with ever decreasing natural and economic resources. I, for one, would like to see an environmental impact study done on THAT.
So what's it going to be, Monty? Door number 1 where we kill the earth, or door number 2 where the earth smites us?
I've said this before and I'll say it again, mother earth will be just fine without us, but we can't live without her.....and Spock was right.....it's in our nature to destroy ourselves.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Hot Enough For Ya???
Foamy is an angry little squirrel that reminds me of my paternal grandfather. Acidic. To the point. No nonsense. I remember when he was getting older his hearing was not what it used to be. He would often ask people to repeat what they had just said. Most of the time the speaker would just say, "Oh, nothing. Forget about it."
That drove my grandfather nuts. He got to the point where when the speaker would not repeat what they had said with the, "Oh, nothing. Forget about it," he would bellow....and he did bellow....."IF YOU WON'T REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID AS YOU THOUGHT IT UNIMPORTANT, WHY DID YOU EVEN OPEN UP YOUR MOUTH TO SAY IT IN THE FIRST PLACE? I'M DEAF BECAUSE OF ALL THE USELESS NOISE I'VE BEEN EXPOSED TO OVER THE YEARS. I DON'T NEED ANY MORE USELESS NOISE. EITHER REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID OR STOP TALKING.
Well, there you have it then.
On a related note, we are experiencing record-breaking heat here in Sonoma County. I'm channeling my late paternal grandfather as his angry humor lives on through Foamy the Squirrel. This video is EXACTLY what he would say. Enjoy.
That drove my grandfather nuts. He got to the point where when the speaker would not repeat what they had said with the, "Oh, nothing. Forget about it," he would bellow....and he did bellow....."IF YOU WON'T REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID AS YOU THOUGHT IT UNIMPORTANT, WHY DID YOU EVEN OPEN UP YOUR MOUTH TO SAY IT IN THE FIRST PLACE? I'M DEAF BECAUSE OF ALL THE USELESS NOISE I'VE BEEN EXPOSED TO OVER THE YEARS. I DON'T NEED ANY MORE USELESS NOISE. EITHER REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID OR STOP TALKING.
Well, there you have it then.
On a related note, we are experiencing record-breaking heat here in Sonoma County. I'm channeling my late paternal grandfather as his angry humor lives on through Foamy the Squirrel. This video is EXACTLY what he would say. Enjoy.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Hey Man, Can You Score Me Some Diabetic Test Strips?
Our diets of crappy food and sedentary lifestyles are only feeding this epidemic (no pun intended). Pretty soon people will be selling off healthy kidneys to the highest bidder (I'm sure that's happening already).
It's happening. Health care, due to it's prohibitive costs, is being demoted to back ally deals by people even more unscrupulous than those in the so-called legitimate portion of the industry. Just wait for the drive by gang shootings involving an organ donor and medical supplies.
Drug dealers have found a new niche.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Naked and Farting in MY CHAIR
......I don't know how else to describe this one, folks. It's football season here in the USA. That means that any human with football fever goes wild like the Starbucks opening day of the Pumpkin Spice Latte.
Total pandemonium. What does this have to do with a naked guy farting in MY CHAIR???? Lemme 'splain.....
Once upon a time there was a group of guys from Marin County who all grew up together. No, stating that they grew up insinuates that they matured. They have not. For whatever reason, about this time each year they congregate at my house for the 'fantasy football' league picks or whatever that means.
I cook an incredible meal and disappear. The meal is for the guys. All of the guys in this fantasy football league have been banished from hosting the fantasy football draft for whatever reasons at their homes. Nobody wants the trouble and mess. So it happens here. One woman who now refuses to host made the guys piss in a five gallon bucket instead of using the toilet. That's gross. How can you banish your guests to using a bucket as opposed to a functioning toilet? I don't want to obsess too much on that one. YUCK!!!!!
Now, which brings me to naked guys farting in my chair.
It has been incredibly hot here in Sonoma County. Tonight was the football draft. I did my part by preparing all the food and whatnot and then disappearing downtown to entertain myself.. After being gone for more than I thought necessary I returned home. Upon entering the front door there was my kids' PE teacher from junior high school in MY CHAIR unabashedly shirtless with the fan blowing on him. Oh, yes....... gastronomical sound effects followed. He then thought it funny to dance in his underwear in the window. Tom Cruse he is NOT.
Can I move way from here????
Everybody thought this hilarious. I did not. Underwear Man then sat down in MY CHAIR with the fan still blowing on him. Gas emissions followed....with the fanfare (no pun intended) of the fan.
Total pandemonium. What does this have to do with a naked guy farting in MY CHAIR???? Lemme 'splain.....
Once upon a time there was a group of guys from Marin County who all grew up together. No, stating that they grew up insinuates that they matured. They have not. For whatever reason, about this time each year they congregate at my house for the 'fantasy football' league picks or whatever that means.
I cook an incredible meal and disappear. The meal is for the guys. All of the guys in this fantasy football league have been banished from hosting the fantasy football draft for whatever reasons at their homes. Nobody wants the trouble and mess. So it happens here. One woman who now refuses to host made the guys piss in a five gallon bucket instead of using the toilet. That's gross. How can you banish your guests to using a bucket as opposed to a functioning toilet? I don't want to obsess too much on that one. YUCK!!!!!
Now, which brings me to naked guys farting in my chair.
It has been incredibly hot here in Sonoma County. Tonight was the football draft. I did my part by preparing all the food and whatnot and then disappearing downtown to entertain myself.. After being gone for more than I thought necessary I returned home. Upon entering the front door there was my kids' PE teacher from junior high school in MY CHAIR unabashedly shirtless with the fan blowing on him. Oh, yes....... gastronomical sound effects followed. He then thought it funny to dance in his underwear in the window. Tom Cruse he is NOT.
Can I move way from here????
Everybody thought this hilarious. I did not. Underwear Man then sat down in MY CHAIR with the fan still blowing on him. Gas emissions followed....with the fanfare (no pun intended) of the fan.
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Published Nationwide
Believe it or not, Quiet Rage has been published nationwide via a credible, well-known news outlet. I do more than sit here at the computer spewing random rants about nothing. To tell you the truth, I had forgotten that I submitted the piece until I saw it in print as I had written it about 1.5 years ago. Of course, I had to use a pen name as being somewhat faceless is part of my technique. I did not write the piece for ego gratification nor recognition. I guess some editors somewhere are thinking I have something to say that's worth publishing. And no, it's not about any stupid riots.
On another note, more and more synchronicity keeps happening in my life. It's even freaking ME out and I'm somewhat used to it. I wish I could explain or control it, but I can't. Non-believers will be non-believers and there is nothing I can say to convince them otherwise. It's more than mere coincidences as that's how the non-believers explain it away. They have never felt the thrust of energy that bolts through the body when a "truth" hits you. They have never felt the "sinking gut" when intuition decides to pay an unannounced visit.
...and no, I can't control it. It does not perform on demand like a circus monkey. It appears and disappears and is sometimes inconclusive. I can't wrap it up and put it in a box; therefore, it does not exist to most people.
On another note, more and more synchronicity keeps happening in my life. It's even freaking ME out and I'm somewhat used to it. I wish I could explain or control it, but I can't. Non-believers will be non-believers and there is nothing I can say to convince them otherwise. It's more than mere coincidences as that's how the non-believers explain it away. They have never felt the thrust of energy that bolts through the body when a "truth" hits you. They have never felt the "sinking gut" when intuition decides to pay an unannounced visit.
...and no, I can't control it. It does not perform on demand like a circus monkey. It appears and disappears and is sometimes inconclusive. I can't wrap it up and put it in a box; therefore, it does not exist to most people.
Sunday, August 20, 2017
Solar Eclipse
For freaks like myself, while not going through extremes in the celebration of this rare event and then oversharing it on social media, will pause with like-minded people with quiet contemplation, appreciation, and awe of nature with our own rituals that have personal meaning. The people who truly have respect for this phenomenon will think it sacrilege to cheapen it with social media postings.
Tomorrow the sun, moon, and earth will align. The planets are *really* aligning, my friends. This will create a laser beam of psychic energy to charge us up. From my observations of humans, we really need it. Let's appreciate it and open yourself up to it.
Saturday, August 19, 2017
Travel Boredom - Why Bother?
Traveling has now pretty much lost all appeal. The entire point of traveling was to experience life of another country, or culture. Go to any city anymore and they are all the same and have the same Italian restaurants (albeit with a different name) coffee shops, art galleries, bars, etc. They all have the same "ethnic" neighborhoods: Chinatown, Italian, Indian, German, Thai, Polish, Mars.
All this diversity has created boredom.
All this diversity has created boredom.
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Bird on a Wire: Energy Conservation
Here's a tidbit of information that you'll find interesting. Are you aware that there is a LOT of electricity that is wasted because of the aging transmission system of old power lines and cables? Take a look up at the power lines that distribute electricity. The vast majority are at least 40 years old and have lost efficiency due to corrosion, age, etc. It's been said by those in authority on the matter if we invested in new transmission lines we would save an enormous amount of electricity and the polluting environmental impacts involved in creating electricity. Yes, we would lessen our carbon footprint substantially.
Wow. Replacing all those power lines seems like a big job. It is, but it seems like the most obvious thing we could do to conserve energy and reduce environmental impact. It's something so attainable and doable and not some futuristic pie in the sky far fetched fantasy that some engineering geek wrote for a graduate thesis. It's not glamours nor attention grabbing. Maybe that's why the obvious is being ignored.
How about this for simplicity on replacing aged distribution systems: Start by simply observing the power lines in the winter time and look for the power lines that have the most birds on it. Why? Because inefficient power lines exude escaping heat that the birds love to sit on.
I bet you'll never look at a power line in the wintertime the same way again. Each time you look up and see a bunch of birds on a wire you'll know that an aging, inefficient line needs to be replaced and that it's losing about 50% capacity.
Friday, July 28, 2017
Jack Johnson
Tonight I went to a concert at Berkeley's Greek Theater to see Jack Johnson. Here in the heart of liberalism I decided to test "diversity" by going into the men's bathroom as the line for the women's was REALLy long and I REALLY had to pee.
You know the stupidity of the bathroom wars (transgender, whatever) and everybody all parading around these days shouting, "You can Pee Next to Me" and other little sayings and slogans to all get us to a gender neutral bathroom.
So, that's what we did -- three of us gals just marched into the men's bathroom to the empty stalls. Guess what. The earth did not stop spinning on its axis.
As the night went on I was disappointed in the audience for Jack Johnson. Nobody was a moovin and a groovin except for my group. It's pretty sad when a bunch of middle aged white women from Sonoma County are the weirdo hippies at the concert and have to instigate action. Everybody else just sat there like a stick in the mud.
Since when did Berkeley become so uptight and white?
You know the stupidity of the bathroom wars (transgender, whatever) and everybody all parading around these days shouting, "You can Pee Next to Me" and other little sayings and slogans to all get us to a gender neutral bathroom.
So, that's what we did -- three of us gals just marched into the men's bathroom to the empty stalls. Guess what. The earth did not stop spinning on its axis.
As the night went on I was disappointed in the audience for Jack Johnson. Nobody was a moovin and a groovin except for my group. It's pretty sad when a bunch of middle aged white women from Sonoma County are the weirdo hippies at the concert and have to instigate action. Everybody else just sat there like a stick in the mud.
Since when did Berkeley become so uptight and white?
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Vancouver Homeless
I have been spending some time in the Canadian city of
Vancouver, British Columbia. Everybody
wants to use Canada as an example of what we in the United States should be
like. We are constantly compared to
Canada’s foreign relations, health care, social services, and their acceptance
of cultural and social differences.
Really?
When was the last time any of you spent a little time with
our neighbors to the north and dug beneath the surface?
Here’s what I found Vancouver to be -- San Francisco’s twin
sister. Yup. It’s shiny and glitzy and welcoming of all,
on the surface that is. Dig a little
deeper and they have a problem with tweekers, homelessness, poverty, etc. The streets outside of the immediate tourist
areas are littered with feces and trash.
Panhandlers are just about everywhere as are barred-up windows and
graffiti. Canada has the same problems
we do. They are just better at hiding
them and the world isn’t looking to criticize and shame Canada for anything.
As for tolerance, that’s not really there either despite
Canada’s 150th birthday public service messages showing how happy
they are with their diversity. There is a strong undertow of prejudice and
racism. Yesterday, my man wore his
Oakland Raiders shirt. The shirt solicited
instant friends at a bar we ended up at.
Our new friends were Canadian, but were of Indian and middle eastern
descent and one in the group wore a turban.
It did not take long for them to start telling tales on how they are
made to feel like second class citizens and were praising Americans, especially Californians, for being
more accepting than the Canadians. The
guy who wore a turban, Sonny, went on to say how an American Navy Seal bought
him drinks and befriended him. Sonny was
not expecting that. He was expecting
silent hostility. Sonny had a strong
sense of humor and said, “Think about that.
A f****** navy seal buying me, a f****** towel-headed, sheet-headed bastard
who he’s trained to kill, and he’s buying ME drinks,” and went on to say how
everybody should not take themselves so seriously and lighten up. Political correctness has gone
overboard. Laugh more and remove the
stick out of certain orifices.
The others in the group told their tales as well and what
was messed up in their country. Their
country has plenty of problems and they are not immune to issues, either. It’s not the Utopia Michael Moore
portrays. So, world, before you throw
your next rock at us saying how crappy we are and how we should be more like
Canada, have a REALLY good look and then STFU.
p.s. more Canadians immigrate to the United States than the
other way around -- the ratio is approximately 2-1.
p.p.s I have no
explanation for HeWhoShallNotBeNamed as occupying the Oval Office. Sorry about that. We're claiming temporary insanity as a defense.
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