Today started out just like any other day. I was enroute to my yoga class this morning when it happened. They say that most accidents happen within 5 miles from home - and I believe that statistic to be true.
I was at a stop light third car back on a busy, well-known intersection. The light turned green. I proceeded. All of a sudden the vehicle in front of me stopped because the car in front on HIM stopped suddenly to make an illegal left turn over a double-yellow to enter a convenience store.
BAM. I did not have time to react.
I rear-ended the car in front of me who rear-ended the car in front of him. Three car pileup. I'm stunned as I have NEVER even had a speeding ticket. The car in front, who was the one who decided to suddenly stop to make the illegal left turn, took a look at his bumper, and decided the damage was not worth reporting on HIS end and took off. Great. Now it's me and the guy in the middle of the three-car pile up. I obviously rear-ended him so I know I'm low on the totem pole. Rear-ending somebody means you GET it in the rear end.
Gods were gracious and the guy I hit was soooooooo nice. My insurance company, Allstate, has been great. I had a tow truck and a rental all ready for me as my car, MY CAR THAT I LOVE, now needs a nose job in the worst way and was leaking fluids. It's not drivable. I tried.
I think I blogged bitching about insurance. Yes, that is true. Yes, I have a high deductible but I'm still money ahead as my car has about $10,000 worth of damage.
Bottom line: Cars are replaceable, people are not.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Europe Trip
I just received my preliminary itinerary for Europe this summer. It's been kind of morphing for some time now and it may continue to morph, but I'm excited about the set up.
Flights? First class
Accommodations? Luxury
The cherry on top is fireworks in Paris on Bastille Day. However, I've been assigned to be on the River Seine on a dinner cruise with window seating (to see the fireworks, of course) for the evening as mixing with the crowds on the streets may be a little dangerous given the political climate. There will be LOTS of eyes open that day - surveillance will be tight - but nothing these days is fool proof as there are plenty of fools out there who would love to ruin Bastille Day and gloat in the irony of it.
Finally. Years of hard work is paying off. No more flying crammed in coach and staying in crappy hotels. I can fly crammed in coach and stay in crappy hotels perfectly fine on my own personal dime;)
Flights? First class
Accommodations? Luxury
The cherry on top is fireworks in Paris on Bastille Day. However, I've been assigned to be on the River Seine on a dinner cruise with window seating (to see the fireworks, of course) for the evening as mixing with the crowds on the streets may be a little dangerous given the political climate. There will be LOTS of eyes open that day - surveillance will be tight - but nothing these days is fool proof as there are plenty of fools out there who would love to ruin Bastille Day and gloat in the irony of it.
Finally. Years of hard work is paying off. No more flying crammed in coach and staying in crappy hotels. I can fly crammed in coach and stay in crappy hotels perfectly fine on my own personal dime;)
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Respect
I don't know what's wrong with younger people these days, but I think I have a theory -- their PARENTS.
There seems to be a generation of entitled, spoiled brats who think the world revolves around THEM. Don't believe me? Just talk to any teacher. The kids are disrespectful, disrupt the classroom, and think their feces have no odor. If they get a poor score on a test their parents are on the phone calling for the teacher's head, same if they are sent to the principal's office for bad behavior.
Thanks, parents....now we are dealing with these entitled brats now entering the workforce. They act as if they are doing US a favor by periodically showing up on time and actually working a full week.
Now I know why companies are going overseas to find employees and/or paying illegals cash under the table.
There seems to be a generation of entitled, spoiled brats who think the world revolves around THEM. Don't believe me? Just talk to any teacher. The kids are disrespectful, disrupt the classroom, and think their feces have no odor. If they get a poor score on a test their parents are on the phone calling for the teacher's head, same if they are sent to the principal's office for bad behavior.
Thanks, parents....now we are dealing with these entitled brats now entering the workforce. They act as if they are doing US a favor by periodically showing up on time and actually working a full week.
Now I know why companies are going overseas to find employees and/or paying illegals cash under the table.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Dance Class and Food
I have never had anybody applaud my entering a room before until last week at dance class. See, I have my usual 'spot' on the floor and I've been a regular for some time now. Why do I dance? Because it makes me happy. That's it. There is no other reason. Within the last month I have been told that I glow and that I'm light on my feet. Light? Me??? LOL. This past week dance class was completely PACKED with newbies and young ones at that. Where did they stand? Behind me because I knew the choreography. Nothing gets me higher than a jammed dance studio floor with the synchronicity of everybody's energy movin' and groovin' to the sounds of uplifting music.
Why did they applaud when I entered the room? Because I was late. They were hoping I would be there to guide them through the choreography and did not think I would show up. Lame...but it made me smile nonetheless.
Which now brings me to food. My passion for cooking is taking me now to competitions in Sonoma County that are pretty large scale. I'm not out to win any awards this year, but I'm getting the lay of the land by volunteering my help for events. I'm *really* good at organizing...it's an anal German trait, but whatever. Plus, I have met some fun people in the process who love cooking and food as much as I do.
Dance and food. What else is there? MUSIC. Which reminds me....my flute is feeling ignored these days.
Why did they applaud when I entered the room? Because I was late. They were hoping I would be there to guide them through the choreography and did not think I would show up. Lame...but it made me smile nonetheless.
Which now brings me to food. My passion for cooking is taking me now to competitions in Sonoma County that are pretty large scale. I'm not out to win any awards this year, but I'm getting the lay of the land by volunteering my help for events. I'm *really* good at organizing...it's an anal German trait, but whatever. Plus, I have met some fun people in the process who love cooking and food as much as I do.
Dance and food. What else is there? MUSIC. Which reminds me....my flute is feeling ignored these days.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
the Finances of Death
Here's a true story. Once upon a time there lived a guy who was instrumental in getting Charles Schwab up and running. See, Charles Schwab did not have any money of his own - he used his wife's inheritance to get his company up and running. When the Charles Schwab Company was in its infancy it was teetering on collapse and almost imploded on itself.
At a pow-wow in a house boat on Lake Shasta in the late 1970's - early 1980's sat a council of stoned, drunk, and ego laden guys high on cocaine who were going to rescue Chuck and try to make the company succeed.
They did. Not long after the company grew into a the first large-scale discount brokerage house in nation. The guys in the background of Chuck's successful corporate turn-around then took their show on the road to rescue other brokerage firms with problems.
One of the guys, Mr. Rescue, had a wife. Mr. Rescue was on the road constantly saving brokerage houses of their internal operational woes. Mr. Rescue never shared any of their personal financial information with Wife-ey-Poo. All Wife-ey-Poo knew was going to play tennis at the Marin Country Club and arranging flowers for her to photograph and paint. She lived in ignorant, kept, sheltered bliss. She thought they were "all that" and life was glorious. yes...the key word was thought.
Sadly, Mr. Rescue died in a hotel room on the road trying to save yet another brokerage house. Wife-ey-Poo was devastated. She did not even know how to balance a checkbook. Certainly there were life insurance policies in place and the houses and stocks he *claimed* he owned were worth something, right?
Much to Wife-ey-Poo's surprise they had NO assets to speak of once the debts were figured out. It was a typical house of cards. Mr. Rescue was FLAT broke. All Mr. Rescue did was shuffle personal debt around from one credit source to another...and he made a so-called career of "helping" brokerage firms get their operations in order.
Clueless, naive Wife-ey-Poo is still painting and photographing flowers...too bad it's on the freeway off ramp next to the Mexican kid hustling strawberries as she can no longer afford the membership dues at the Marin Country Club.
At a pow-wow in a house boat on Lake Shasta in the late 1970's - early 1980's sat a council of stoned, drunk, and ego laden guys high on cocaine who were going to rescue Chuck and try to make the company succeed.
They did. Not long after the company grew into a the first large-scale discount brokerage house in nation. The guys in the background of Chuck's successful corporate turn-around then took their show on the road to rescue other brokerage firms with problems.
One of the guys, Mr. Rescue, had a wife. Mr. Rescue was on the road constantly saving brokerage houses of their internal operational woes. Mr. Rescue never shared any of their personal financial information with Wife-ey-Poo. All Wife-ey-Poo knew was going to play tennis at the Marin Country Club and arranging flowers for her to photograph and paint. She lived in ignorant, kept, sheltered bliss. She thought they were "all that" and life was glorious. yes...the key word was thought.
Sadly, Mr. Rescue died in a hotel room on the road trying to save yet another brokerage house. Wife-ey-Poo was devastated. She did not even know how to balance a checkbook. Certainly there were life insurance policies in place and the houses and stocks he *claimed* he owned were worth something, right?
Much to Wife-ey-Poo's surprise they had NO assets to speak of once the debts were figured out. It was a typical house of cards. Mr. Rescue was FLAT broke. All Mr. Rescue did was shuffle personal debt around from one credit source to another...and he made a so-called career of "helping" brokerage firms get their operations in order.
Clueless, naive Wife-ey-Poo is still painting and photographing flowers...too bad it's on the freeway off ramp next to the Mexican kid hustling strawberries as she can no longer afford the membership dues at the Marin Country Club.
Train Wreck and Vulture
You all know what a locust is, right? It's a grasshopper that eats and destroys everything in its path. When the food supply is gone, they simply move onto a fresh supply.
Sadly, there are people with the personality of a locust as well. They will use and suck everything from somebody (usually money) and when it's gone they just move onto their next victim to continue the cycle. They need to be constantly feeding themselves for their own survival, but they never create their own food source and depend on a sustenance source others have created.
Backdrop: I just got back from visiting a very good friend up near Shasta. We have been friends for 29 years. Her son is going through a divorce. I will refer to my friend's son as Train Wreck. My friend and her husband have created quite a comfortable life for themselves over the years through smart investing and hard work.
Fast Forward 20 years: Train Wreck gets tangled up with a woman I'll call Vulture. Vulture had one look at the place where my friend lived and saw $$$$$$$ thinking the family had lots of it. Two weeks later SHE (Vulture) asks my friend's son, Train Wreck, to get married.
Train Wreck was so smitten with Vulture that he agreed.
13 years pass and Train Wreck and Vulture could never get it together financially. Of course they reproduced, so now there is an innocent child in the mix. Train Wreck inherited quite a sum from his late father's estate. Train Wreck could have easily put down money for a house or condo or other stable investment for his future. Did Train Wreck listen? Of course not. He decided to blow it on a band. Yup. A band.
Train Wreck could not hold down a job, either, and wanted to call his own hours, terms and conditions. That's fine if you're not dependent on an income to support yourself and YOU are the boss. However, being flat broke does not give you a list of options for employment, but Train Wreck thought entitled. He's too good to work 9-5.
At this point Vulture is beginning to feel the financial strain. Her princess lifestyle is coming to a crashing halt. Vulture and Train Wreck move into my friend's guest house with their two kids. Yup. Now there are TWO innocents in the picture.
My friend, begrudgingly, loans Vulture and Train Wreck THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of dollars to get their financial house in order. Neither one of them have a credit score that even registers as it's so poor. Only Guido will loan them money at 270% interest. Both Train Wreck and Vulture vow up and down to my friend that they have learned their financial lessons and will pay it back.
Nope. They blew it on trips and a car they did not need. My friend has reached the end of her rope and refused to loan them any more money. Vulture left Train Wreck a week later and she now has another boyfriend she is sucking from.
The moral of the story? They both have Bernie Sanders bumper stickers because they think they are VICTIMIZED by the economy. bullshit. They each have had more opportunities than most. They made poor choices and now want to blame somebody else and think that *WE* the actual *TAXPAYERS* owe them something.
Sadly, there are people with the personality of a locust as well. They will use and suck everything from somebody (usually money) and when it's gone they just move onto their next victim to continue the cycle. They need to be constantly feeding themselves for their own survival, but they never create their own food source and depend on a sustenance source others have created.
Backdrop: I just got back from visiting a very good friend up near Shasta. We have been friends for 29 years. Her son is going through a divorce. I will refer to my friend's son as Train Wreck. My friend and her husband have created quite a comfortable life for themselves over the years through smart investing and hard work.
Fast Forward 20 years: Train Wreck gets tangled up with a woman I'll call Vulture. Vulture had one look at the place where my friend lived and saw $$$$$$$ thinking the family had lots of it. Two weeks later SHE (Vulture) asks my friend's son, Train Wreck, to get married.
Train Wreck was so smitten with Vulture that he agreed.
13 years pass and Train Wreck and Vulture could never get it together financially. Of course they reproduced, so now there is an innocent child in the mix. Train Wreck inherited quite a sum from his late father's estate. Train Wreck could have easily put down money for a house or condo or other stable investment for his future. Did Train Wreck listen? Of course not. He decided to blow it on a band. Yup. A band.
Train Wreck could not hold down a job, either, and wanted to call his own hours, terms and conditions. That's fine if you're not dependent on an income to support yourself and YOU are the boss. However, being flat broke does not give you a list of options for employment, but Train Wreck thought entitled. He's too good to work 9-5.
At this point Vulture is beginning to feel the financial strain. Her princess lifestyle is coming to a crashing halt. Vulture and Train Wreck move into my friend's guest house with their two kids. Yup. Now there are TWO innocents in the picture.
My friend, begrudgingly, loans Vulture and Train Wreck THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of dollars to get their financial house in order. Neither one of them have a credit score that even registers as it's so poor. Only Guido will loan them money at 270% interest. Both Train Wreck and Vulture vow up and down to my friend that they have learned their financial lessons and will pay it back.
Nope. They blew it on trips and a car they did not need. My friend has reached the end of her rope and refused to loan them any more money. Vulture left Train Wreck a week later and she now has another boyfriend she is sucking from.
The moral of the story? They both have Bernie Sanders bumper stickers because they think they are VICTIMIZED by the economy. bullshit. They each have had more opportunities than most. They made poor choices and now want to blame somebody else and think that *WE* the actual *TAXPAYERS* owe them something.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Let's Go Crazy!!!!
As a child of the 80's in Minnesota of course Roger Nelson (a.k.a. Prince) was a HUGE influence. Everybody had a sighting of him around town -- especially if they looked down (sorry...my warped sense of humor kicking in). Until Prince, nobody even knew black people lived in Minnesota.
I guess we can take lyrics from one of his songs, "Let's Go Crazy" off the Purple Rain LP that were:
All excited
Don't know why
Maybe it's cuz
We all gonna die
When we do
What's it all for
....and REALLY ponder that....I hope he found out what it's all for.
Catch ya later, Roger Nelson. Gods willing you will get an extra 10" in your next incarnation where it counts;)
I guess we can take lyrics from one of his songs, "Let's Go Crazy" off the Purple Rain LP that were:
All excited
Don't know why
Maybe it's cuz
We all gonna die
When we do
What's it all for
....and REALLY ponder that....I hope he found out what it's all for.
Catch ya later, Roger Nelson. Gods willing you will get an extra 10" in your next incarnation where it counts;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
