Can someone please tell me how you can justify giving a CEO of a company multiple millions of dollars annually while laying off the workers of said company? I don't get it.
This was a story in the newspaper today regarding a not for profit hospital and the fact they were laying off nurses, but the CEO still received his multimillion dollar salary for that year. I read the article twice because I couldn't get over the fact that author of the article wrote it with such nonchalance.
If the CEO left the employ of that hospital I think it would run very well, but if all the nurses left the hospital would have to close their tents (and to be honest, some of the rooms in that hospital are not much better than tents....in fact some of the newer tents I've seen rival some good hotel rooms I've seen lately, so maybe the hospital should look into the cost cutting venture of buying the newer tents.....lol).
The article got me thinking, (a dangerous thing these days...I'm getting older and far more cynical than ever) what if all the upper management of these companies were to make a pledge together that they would not skim off the top of these companies? I know, it wouldn't happen until Hell froze over, but let's just speculate. I wonder how the companies would fair? Some people will think, if the execs aren't given their perks and wages they've come to expect they will work less. That's a joke, I don't think they work all that much now. I understand the need for supervision, but not for 7 layers of supervisors. All of them make far more than the ones they're supervising. Ok I'll accept that they should get more because they're shouldering more responsibility, but is that really true? Take for example a chemist in a pharmaceutical company.
That chemist has to be precise in his/her measurements for safety of all concerned with that drug. The responsibility for him is huge. If he puts the wrong chemicals together a life could be lost or changed drastically forever. Doesn't it seem that he should be paid more than someone who doesn't have that responsibility on them like the upper management.
I know there has to be management, I get it. But I don't think it needs to be paid into the stratosphere.
I have a friend who makes tons of money. His bonus's are more than twice my annual income. He has a job that makes money for a company and he's compensated by percentage of the money he brings into the company. He's been lucky, (and honestly it is luck for some to be in the positions of great wealth, not much else) and he' s made a nice niche for himself. I don't begrudge him at all, but I wonder if it's justified he makes all this money while some of the administrative assistants he works with are losing their jobs because the companies profit margins weren't as great as they had been in the past?
There is a great disparity of wealth in this country and I think it's going to be the downfall of us all. Where I live is pretty insulated from the poor and starving, but I have eyes and ears, I can see things happening around me and I find it disturbing, to say the least. Life isn't fair, ok, I get it, but for some it's more unfair than for others. I know some folks could pull themselves up by the boot straps and change their lot in life, but sometimes when you're constantly being beaten down, it's kind of hard to find those boot straps...I think they need some help, for a time....
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Revenge of the forest
Over 41 years ago we bought this house. Actually it was a lot, which we planned to build on. I was pregnant with my first child and this was a big deal. We would have a new baby, new house and we had a new car.
The house was to be built in Suburbia. I didn't want to raise my baby in the city. It didn't matter to me that Larry would have to drive 45 minutes every day to work. I wanted to live in the country where the air was clean and the baby, when it arrived, would get to see nature right outside our window.
It was a great idea and one that has continued to be a great idea. We were smart, not on purpose mind you, we lucked out. We bought in an area that is still holding it's own in this financial market. The baby grew up. We had another baby. We were living the American dream. We were happy.
What we didn't give a thought to was what was happening to the other living things who lived here before we, and all our neighbors, moved in. This place was teeming with all kinds of wild life. It was nothing to see the deer in the back yard along with the foxes and myriad other little living things.
Most of us didn't give much thought to what we were doing to their "homes" as we built our homes. If they didn't get out of the way...too bad...they were gone. Honest, I don't think any of us around here thought about the other living things except maybe to swear at them when something got into the garbage cans, or ate out of our carefully landscaped yards. Rabbits got a short shift if they were caught in our new gardens. It was us or them, and we were bigger.
Life went on, we took over. The little animals fled from the area to be seen on occasion, but usually splatted on the road. No one cared. We just went on our merry way.
We thought we were the strong ones, we would prevail, and for the most part we did. Then slowly, ever so slowly, we started seeing things happen in our little area we cultivated to be our homes. The trees got bigger, and the animals found new homes. Our homes were being invaded by things from outside. Some of us got cats...that helped for a time, but the little living things got smarter.
Here we are 43 years later and I find myself embroiled in a war. "War", you say. I say, "Yes, all out war". My enemies are cute little brown chipmunks. You know, "Chip and Dale", except they aren't Chip and Dale. They're more like, "The rodents that ate the world" or at least they're trying to eat the world.
The first thing they tried to eat was a tarp in our shed. Apparently "tarp" is not one of their dietary needs, so the little thing died in the shed. We knew that in the Spring when opening the shed for the first time we were almost decked by the smell of death pouring out of the shed. It was not pleasant. Larry thought he could camouflage the smell with mothballs....not. Then he tried cedar shavings....not. Then he called in the big guns, me.
I opened the shed doors and told him something was definitely dead within the confines of the shed. I told him it smelled like all the dead mice which were in my old office. No amount of camouflage smell would take care of this stench. We had to remove everything (no small task) from the shed and find the offending "thing".
I was elected to go up the ladder and clear out the loft. The minute I went up one step I thought, "Man, this has got to be a big "thing" the smell was really putrid. Larry, the brave one, was standing far away from the shed yelling advice from his lofty position. Why in God's name I was the one elected for this was beyond me, but I was on the ladder, like a fool, pulling and pushing things out of the way to grab what I could, and get it out into the light of day. Larry's job was to search all the stuff as it came out.
He stood over all the scraps of material with a big stick. Slowly he would pick up a piece and use his foot to open up the material checking for vermin. Each time the material fell back down he'd jump back with a squeal... For a minute there, I thought he morphed into a little girl, listening to the noises he was making.
I finally got the loft cleared out, finding nothing when I heard an unearthly howl. Larry had found the "thing" tangled in the middle of a tarp. We saw where the little thing (we weren't sure what kind of "thing" it was at this point) had eaten part of the tarp and obviously it hadn't agreed with him/her.
He pushed the critter out of it's unholy coffin and determined it was a chipmunk. Good, now we knew what was causing the smell, life was good again, or so we thought.
A couple of weeks later Larry noticed some leaves under his car. We have a Mini Cooper. We've had it for years. He loves his Mini. He couldn't figure out where the leaves came from. He opened the hood of the car to investigate. There were more leaves. As he searched in the little engine he kept finding more leaves and straw like stuff. He cleared it out and closed the hood.
The next day he looked outside and saw a chipmunk coming out from under his car. He didn't think much of it at the time because we seemed to have an inordinate number of chipmunks all over the yard, up in the gutters, running from the roof, down the gutters, into the car port. We figured they were having a great time enjoying life like cute little Chip and Dale.
Hmm...what we didn't realize that these chipmunks were probably the progeny of the ones we displaced 43 years ago and they were back to avenge their ancestors. Sure, they were cute and little. They would run over my feet when I stood at my gardeners bench in the carport. How much could little chipmunks do for heavens sake? Hah!
Larry decided to change the air cleaner in the Mini because the air conditioner seemed to be struggling. When he opened the area of the cleaner, it was packed tight with straw, grass and leaves. There seemed to be a little indentation, like a Papasan chair in the middle of the leaves. Obviously someones house...
It took half of a garbage can to clear out the engine area and air cleaner area of leaves and other debris. Larry decided he better put some sort of covering over the hole something was getting into. He had some nylon screening that seemed to be the ticket. He measured and taped the mesh to the hole. Ahh...for sure it would be good now.
The next day he looked under the hood. Lo, and behold, the mesh was chewed completely through, and the little house of leaves and debris was back intact. This was serious. Twice Larry had to clear out some sort of nest. He was getting pissed. This wasn't an easy task, to remove this stuff, it was packed into the smallest areas (the poor little thing probably didn't want to get a draft in his house).
I decided to get involved. I made a mixture of hot peppers, hot sauce vinegar and salt and poured it around the area where Larry had seen the chipmunks walk.
The next day the chipmunks chewed through the asphalt near the garage. They didn't liek my concoction I guess. They had tunnels all over. We found chipmunk holes all around the garage and carport.
Inside the Mini the nest was back, only worse. Now there were gnaw marks on the area where they entered. They were clearly pissed at us. This was getting serious. We needed to bring in heavy artillery.
We did our research. We checked with Environmental folks who suggested some kinds of traps, you know, the "humane" way to rid yourself of Mother Nature's little friends (they're sure not MY friends by this time).
We spent time trying all the humane things. The chipmunks watched us and laughed. Finally, when the chipmunks started to throw things at us (ok, ok I'm exaggerating.. but I swear if they could have they'd have flung something at us when we went outside) we had enough.
I went to the hardware store and bought the dreaded, "Rodent Trap", no odor, no blood, it said. I bought some organic peanut butter, figuring if this was to be their last meal I'd give them something nutritious. I set the trap, the way the instructions said to do it and placed it against the wall. All the time thinking, "I don't' want to do this but you've left me no choice".
Two days went by and there was nothing trapped. I was kind of glad about that. I didn't care that I spent $10 on this plastic trap that didn't work. It was almost like giving them a fighting chance.
The next day, I slowly walked out to the carport. I peeked around the potting bench, hoping the trap was still set...The trap was closed on top of the head of a chipmunk...dead. As I was standing there wondering what to do with the thing, feeling all kinds of remorse for doing this awful deed, a chipmunk ran over my foot. I screamed and said, "THAT'S IT, YOU ALL DIE!!"
That's how it happened. I became a murderer. I still think they're taking out revenge against us for displacing them so many years ago... So the war rages on and I'm on the front lines. If they would move away I'd leave them alone, but until they do....it's "The Jaws of Death" for them....
The house was to be built in Suburbia. I didn't want to raise my baby in the city. It didn't matter to me that Larry would have to drive 45 minutes every day to work. I wanted to live in the country where the air was clean and the baby, when it arrived, would get to see nature right outside our window.
It was a great idea and one that has continued to be a great idea. We were smart, not on purpose mind you, we lucked out. We bought in an area that is still holding it's own in this financial market. The baby grew up. We had another baby. We were living the American dream. We were happy.
What we didn't give a thought to was what was happening to the other living things who lived here before we, and all our neighbors, moved in. This place was teeming with all kinds of wild life. It was nothing to see the deer in the back yard along with the foxes and myriad other little living things.
Most of us didn't give much thought to what we were doing to their "homes" as we built our homes. If they didn't get out of the way...too bad...they were gone. Honest, I don't think any of us around here thought about the other living things except maybe to swear at them when something got into the garbage cans, or ate out of our carefully landscaped yards. Rabbits got a short shift if they were caught in our new gardens. It was us or them, and we were bigger.
Life went on, we took over. The little animals fled from the area to be seen on occasion, but usually splatted on the road. No one cared. We just went on our merry way.
We thought we were the strong ones, we would prevail, and for the most part we did. Then slowly, ever so slowly, we started seeing things happen in our little area we cultivated to be our homes. The trees got bigger, and the animals found new homes. Our homes were being invaded by things from outside. Some of us got cats...that helped for a time, but the little living things got smarter.
Here we are 43 years later and I find myself embroiled in a war. "War", you say. I say, "Yes, all out war". My enemies are cute little brown chipmunks. You know, "Chip and Dale", except they aren't Chip and Dale. They're more like, "The rodents that ate the world" or at least they're trying to eat the world.
The first thing they tried to eat was a tarp in our shed. Apparently "tarp" is not one of their dietary needs, so the little thing died in the shed. We knew that in the Spring when opening the shed for the first time we were almost decked by the smell of death pouring out of the shed. It was not pleasant. Larry thought he could camouflage the smell with mothballs....not. Then he tried cedar shavings....not. Then he called in the big guns, me.
I opened the shed doors and told him something was definitely dead within the confines of the shed. I told him it smelled like all the dead mice which were in my old office. No amount of camouflage smell would take care of this stench. We had to remove everything (no small task) from the shed and find the offending "thing".
I was elected to go up the ladder and clear out the loft. The minute I went up one step I thought, "Man, this has got to be a big "thing" the smell was really putrid. Larry, the brave one, was standing far away from the shed yelling advice from his lofty position. Why in God's name I was the one elected for this was beyond me, but I was on the ladder, like a fool, pulling and pushing things out of the way to grab what I could, and get it out into the light of day. Larry's job was to search all the stuff as it came out.
He stood over all the scraps of material with a big stick. Slowly he would pick up a piece and use his foot to open up the material checking for vermin. Each time the material fell back down he'd jump back with a squeal... For a minute there, I thought he morphed into a little girl, listening to the noises he was making.
I finally got the loft cleared out, finding nothing when I heard an unearthly howl. Larry had found the "thing" tangled in the middle of a tarp. We saw where the little thing (we weren't sure what kind of "thing" it was at this point) had eaten part of the tarp and obviously it hadn't agreed with him/her.
He pushed the critter out of it's unholy coffin and determined it was a chipmunk. Good, now we knew what was causing the smell, life was good again, or so we thought.
A couple of weeks later Larry noticed some leaves under his car. We have a Mini Cooper. We've had it for years. He loves his Mini. He couldn't figure out where the leaves came from. He opened the hood of the car to investigate. There were more leaves. As he searched in the little engine he kept finding more leaves and straw like stuff. He cleared it out and closed the hood.
The next day he looked outside and saw a chipmunk coming out from under his car. He didn't think much of it at the time because we seemed to have an inordinate number of chipmunks all over the yard, up in the gutters, running from the roof, down the gutters, into the car port. We figured they were having a great time enjoying life like cute little Chip and Dale.
Hmm...what we didn't realize that these chipmunks were probably the progeny of the ones we displaced 43 years ago and they were back to avenge their ancestors. Sure, they were cute and little. They would run over my feet when I stood at my gardeners bench in the carport. How much could little chipmunks do for heavens sake? Hah!
Larry decided to change the air cleaner in the Mini because the air conditioner seemed to be struggling. When he opened the area of the cleaner, it was packed tight with straw, grass and leaves. There seemed to be a little indentation, like a Papasan chair in the middle of the leaves. Obviously someones house...
It took half of a garbage can to clear out the engine area and air cleaner area of leaves and other debris. Larry decided he better put some sort of covering over the hole something was getting into. He had some nylon screening that seemed to be the ticket. He measured and taped the mesh to the hole. Ahh...for sure it would be good now.
The next day he looked under the hood. Lo, and behold, the mesh was chewed completely through, and the little house of leaves and debris was back intact. This was serious. Twice Larry had to clear out some sort of nest. He was getting pissed. This wasn't an easy task, to remove this stuff, it was packed into the smallest areas (the poor little thing probably didn't want to get a draft in his house).
I decided to get involved. I made a mixture of hot peppers, hot sauce vinegar and salt and poured it around the area where Larry had seen the chipmunks walk.
The next day the chipmunks chewed through the asphalt near the garage. They didn't liek my concoction I guess. They had tunnels all over. We found chipmunk holes all around the garage and carport.
Inside the Mini the nest was back, only worse. Now there were gnaw marks on the area where they entered. They were clearly pissed at us. This was getting serious. We needed to bring in heavy artillery.
We did our research. We checked with Environmental folks who suggested some kinds of traps, you know, the "humane" way to rid yourself of Mother Nature's little friends (they're sure not MY friends by this time).
We spent time trying all the humane things. The chipmunks watched us and laughed. Finally, when the chipmunks started to throw things at us (ok, ok I'm exaggerating.. but I swear if they could have they'd have flung something at us when we went outside) we had enough.
I went to the hardware store and bought the dreaded, "Rodent Trap", no odor, no blood, it said. I bought some organic peanut butter, figuring if this was to be their last meal I'd give them something nutritious. I set the trap, the way the instructions said to do it and placed it against the wall. All the time thinking, "I don't' want to do this but you've left me no choice".
Two days went by and there was nothing trapped. I was kind of glad about that. I didn't care that I spent $10 on this plastic trap that didn't work. It was almost like giving them a fighting chance.
The next day, I slowly walked out to the carport. I peeked around the potting bench, hoping the trap was still set...The trap was closed on top of the head of a chipmunk...dead. As I was standing there wondering what to do with the thing, feeling all kinds of remorse for doing this awful deed, a chipmunk ran over my foot. I screamed and said, "THAT'S IT, YOU ALL DIE!!"
That's how it happened. I became a murderer. I still think they're taking out revenge against us for displacing them so many years ago... So the war rages on and I'm on the front lines. If they would move away I'd leave them alone, but until they do....it's "The Jaws of Death" for them....
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
It's been a while since I've written anything on this thing, for several reasons. The first being I didn't have anything to say. The second, because I didn't feel like doing anything remotely linked with the word, work.
Today however I had a thought about something a friend spoke about. So here I am thinking on screen as opposed to on paper or in my mind. Sometimes I think it's good to see your words in print. For some reason it makes them seem real and worthy of the attention of yourself, and maybe others.
My friend saw a news story about some young people who were arrested for vandalism in her community. One of the folks arrested was a student from our Alma Mater. She asked if I thought she should contact the young woman, since she is a student at our college. My immediate reaction was, "Sure". But then thought better of that.
After reflection, I decided to read the news article and watch the surveillance video of the alleged event. My gut was saying one thing, but I wasn't sure if I was correct or not. My gut has a habit of putting the cabash on things, and it's usually correct.
The article spoke about the amount of damage done to businesses and vehicles parked along the sides of the down town area. There were 11 arrests. Most of the charges were misdemeanors but there were 3 pending felony charges. I don't know if the felony charges will hold, but who knows in this day and age.
The video clearly shows the group traveling through the down town area, throwing things through windows and generally wrecking things in their wake. Supposedly they were yelling unintelligible things as well, but there was no sound on the video.
This was supposed to be some sort of action for May Day. Although, I'm not sure what was being protested, nor, did it seem, did anyone else know.
What I did see was a bunch of people, dressed in black, under cover of darkness doing some stupid things to the property of others. If I had been a person in the vicinity of this "mob" I would have been frightened.
My question is this, if you want to protest something, why not do it when people are around and the sun is shining so everyone can see and hear your protest. Why do you have to be "Ninja Protesters" if that's what you're doing?
These weren't kids either. Most were college students in their 20's. I protested things when I was a college student as well, but not in the dark, wearing dark clothes so no one could see me. I also carried signs that explained my position and it was in the daytime so people could read what I was pissed about.
My friend wanted to reach out and contact this young woman who was a student of our former Alma Mater. She felt she wanted her to know there were friends in the area. I did not agree after viewing the video and reading the article. I think the girl was part and parcel of a bunch of rich kids without enough to do. I don't give them anything but disgust at their behavior.
As I stated before, if you want to protest something, do it in the daytime. This is vandalism and vandalism alone. There was nothing to protest by them, but there sure was a lot to protest from the folks who's property they damaged. Let's get things into perspective.
Today however I had a thought about something a friend spoke about. So here I am thinking on screen as opposed to on paper or in my mind. Sometimes I think it's good to see your words in print. For some reason it makes them seem real and worthy of the attention of yourself, and maybe others.
My friend saw a news story about some young people who were arrested for vandalism in her community. One of the folks arrested was a student from our Alma Mater. She asked if I thought she should contact the young woman, since she is a student at our college. My immediate reaction was, "Sure". But then thought better of that.
After reflection, I decided to read the news article and watch the surveillance video of the alleged event. My gut was saying one thing, but I wasn't sure if I was correct or not. My gut has a habit of putting the cabash on things, and it's usually correct.
The article spoke about the amount of damage done to businesses and vehicles parked along the sides of the down town area. There were 11 arrests. Most of the charges were misdemeanors but there were 3 pending felony charges. I don't know if the felony charges will hold, but who knows in this day and age.
The video clearly shows the group traveling through the down town area, throwing things through windows and generally wrecking things in their wake. Supposedly they were yelling unintelligible things as well, but there was no sound on the video.
This was supposed to be some sort of action for May Day. Although, I'm not sure what was being protested, nor, did it seem, did anyone else know.
What I did see was a bunch of people, dressed in black, under cover of darkness doing some stupid things to the property of others. If I had been a person in the vicinity of this "mob" I would have been frightened.
My question is this, if you want to protest something, why not do it when people are around and the sun is shining so everyone can see and hear your protest. Why do you have to be "Ninja Protesters" if that's what you're doing?
These weren't kids either. Most were college students in their 20's. I protested things when I was a college student as well, but not in the dark, wearing dark clothes so no one could see me. I also carried signs that explained my position and it was in the daytime so people could read what I was pissed about.
My friend wanted to reach out and contact this young woman who was a student of our former Alma Mater. She felt she wanted her to know there were friends in the area. I did not agree after viewing the video and reading the article. I think the girl was part and parcel of a bunch of rich kids without enough to do. I don't give them anything but disgust at their behavior.
As I stated before, if you want to protest something, do it in the daytime. This is vandalism and vandalism alone. There was nothing to protest by them, but there sure was a lot to protest from the folks who's property they damaged. Let's get things into perspective.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Let's Make a Deal
Have you purchased a new mattress lately? I haven't, but I have to get a new one now. I think it's time. I'm getting tired of wrapping the broken spring that's sticking out of the side of the mattress with duct tape. Now don't get me wrong, the duct tape works, and it sort of matches the duvet cover I have on the bed...However, this morning I scraped along the side of the bed and felt my skin tear as I hit the broken spring. I looked down and sure enough there was blood...It's time to do something about it...
Whenever I buy something new I do research to find out about the purchase I'm about to buy. Mattresses used to be pretty east to buy. You went into a furniture store and the salesman showed you two or three sets, you laid on top of them and said, "OK I'll take this one". You gave him your money and the thing was delivered in a couple of days. There weren't many kinds to choose from. There was usually the manufacturer, Sealy and some unknown name. The Sealy was more expensive, but then they also had the word, "Posturpedic" attached to the name. There were no choices of color, style or any other of the myriad things there seems to be today. Who knew you had to get a PhD in "mattress-ology" to purchase one today, but it seems you do.
I had an idea of what I felt was a fair price. I knew I needed a firm mattress and I thought it would be a piece of cake to get a mattress that would fit my needs. Not that easy, I found out...
Armed with my notebook, pens, sticky notes and an assortment of flyer's, I walked into the first "mattress store". Walking into a store that specialized in mattresses only was my first mistake. I almost fainted when I saw the prices on the mattresses in the front of the store. I first one I saw had a "sale" price of $2,600.00. That was just the mattress. That price did not include the box spring, sorry, I meant to say, "foundation". (apparently I showed my ignorance by calling the box thing that goes under the mattress something that only idiots call by the name of "box spring". So shoot me?!?)
Honestly, I had a rough time speaking to this guy, my eyes were still glued to the price on the sticker. I had to ask the guy what could possibly make this mattress worth so much money. He laughed as he "educated" me in the finer points of mattresses...
Little did I know that mattresses were based on the number of "coils", whether or not the "coils" were wrapped or not, the "loft" of the fabric, and the foam content. That was just the beginning of the education. Who knew? I thought my research was pretty complete when I walked into the store, but I was sorely mistaken.
The gentleman was very patient with me as I asked questions I thought were pertinent to the purchase of this big rectangular thing made of cotton, foam and metal springs. I mean honestly, the bottom line is they're all made with the same materials, it's just how they're put together and what name is one the top that makes the price. Oh, and of course, how much money the company has spent on marketing the product. I think the reality is, that's why some are so much more expensive, they are marketed to the hilt, so someone has to pay the advertising costs.
By the time I left the stores that first adventure into "mattress-land", I was thoroughly discouraged. I had laid on about 25 mattresses, fell asleep on 1 of them, (the salesman let me rest to see how I liked it. He came back a few minutes later to wake me up, I was snoring so loud the other sales man couldn't hear his customer on the phone. I think that's the mattress I should have bought that day, but true to my way of shopping I had to check a few other places).
I went home with enough paperwork, flyer's and salesman's business cards to wallpaper my bathroom. I arranged all the paperwork and by process of elimination I narrowed my choices down to two sets, from the same store.
A couple of weeks went by, it was time to jump in and buy the mattress. I went to the store, grabbed the salesman, said, "I was here a couple weeks ago. You gave me some information, I'm now here to buy this mattress". He looked at me and said, "Oh right, the lady who fell asleep..." . I sort of wished he'd have remembered my red hair or some thing other than the fact that I snored so loud I had the whole freaking store laughing....but alas, it was not to be. He did remember me, I guess that was what counted.
Of course the mattress I wanted was out of stock now, so I was back to square one. The salesman was really cool about it. He found a similar mattress gave me a "Breathe-Rite Strip" ( you know the things you put on your nose to stop you from snoring?) and said he's come back to see how I liked this one.
I wasn't sure if I should be offended or not. I did think it was thoughtful he had one of the no-snore strips, but on the other hand I wondered if I had set some kind of precedent in the store....
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Why?
This is a plea to ask folks if it's just me, or am I one of thousands?
Right now I'm fit to be tied. My stomach is in knots and I took a "happy" pill to calm my nerves....I think I'm an intelligent woman but I just don't understand men. I've lived with one most of my life, between my Dad and now my husband of 43 years.....I should know all about the species, but I don't.
What I'm alluding to is the fact that the one I'm married to won't stand up and say something if anyone if he's unhappy about something. Oh...he'll say something to me about it, but confrontation between him and the person he should be talking to doesn't happen.....Instead he acts as though everything is fine and life is great...With a little laugh and a smile.
What's that all about? Now, if I was analyzing this, I would have to say this is a man who has kept his true feelings inside all his life. I would point out that life for him is in two houses. One house has the man who everyone sees, good natured, happy, friendly, an all round good guy. He doesn 't make any waves as he goes about his daily business. Never would anyone think he was anything but what his facade shows.
Now, in the other house lives a man who is angry. He's angry at everything and anything. He sits in his chair yelling at the TV. He slams papers down in frustration. He looks at the neighbors houses and says they're all a bunch of idiots and wishes they would die. Just their presence in the neighborhood makes him angry. He loves movies but won't go to them because he hates all the people that attend the movie. He finds something wrong in the house, usually something that has been remodeled or changed in some way, and he seethes on the problem until he can't speak about it at all. He badgers me to "call those people and get them here to fix this". When I do, and they come, he won't come out of his room to speak to them. When I ask if he wants to talk to them he says, "Why, I can't say anything that you haven't already said." He then calls me and tells me to ask questions of the guys repairing the stuff. I tell him he should ask the questions himself and he gives me looks that would melt glaciers.
When the repair guys leave, he's all over the repairs, usually not happy about the repairs. Then the yelling starts about, "Today's shoddy workmanship, the young workers who don't know jack shit (by the way, what's "jackshit?")" and the fact that he feels he's been personally screwed.
When I read Dennis the Menace in the newspapers I think Mr. Wilson and my husband have much in common. I've taken on the role of the ever understanding Mrs. Wilson who tolerates the miserable curmudgeon Mr. Wilson with a smile and a "yes, Dear".
If I understand this behavior correctly, I think it's just a way to express emotions. It's not to be taken with great seriousness. I think my job is to nod my head up and down and say, "Yes, Dear", then go on my way smiling.
I've learned over the years not to take on the attitude and moods of others, so I don't. The problem with that is, I get told I'm unfeeling and cold. So be it.
I come from a long line of folks who call a spade a spade. We don't gloss over things and try to make people "like us" by saying what they want to hear. I tell it as I see it, for better or worse.
Most of the time what I see from this man is a person who will not confront anyone mildly. His idea of confrontation must take on the form of fighting, arguing, anger and frustration. He loses his temper because he stuffs his feelings in all the time, then explodes. No one but me sees that side. Although, lately others have seen cracks in the veneer, so they know he's not all sugar and smiles.
We'll see what's to happen in the next year or so....things are not pretty right now and I'm getting very tired.......
Oh well...just another bother.....
Right now I'm fit to be tied. My stomach is in knots and I took a "happy" pill to calm my nerves....I think I'm an intelligent woman but I just don't understand men. I've lived with one most of my life, between my Dad and now my husband of 43 years.....I should know all about the species, but I don't.
What I'm alluding to is the fact that the one I'm married to won't stand up and say something if anyone if he's unhappy about something. Oh...he'll say something to me about it, but confrontation between him and the person he should be talking to doesn't happen.....Instead he acts as though everything is fine and life is great...With a little laugh and a smile.
What's that all about? Now, if I was analyzing this, I would have to say this is a man who has kept his true feelings inside all his life. I would point out that life for him is in two houses. One house has the man who everyone sees, good natured, happy, friendly, an all round good guy. He doesn 't make any waves as he goes about his daily business. Never would anyone think he was anything but what his facade shows.
Now, in the other house lives a man who is angry. He's angry at everything and anything. He sits in his chair yelling at the TV. He slams papers down in frustration. He looks at the neighbors houses and says they're all a bunch of idiots and wishes they would die. Just their presence in the neighborhood makes him angry. He loves movies but won't go to them because he hates all the people that attend the movie. He finds something wrong in the house, usually something that has been remodeled or changed in some way, and he seethes on the problem until he can't speak about it at all. He badgers me to "call those people and get them here to fix this". When I do, and they come, he won't come out of his room to speak to them. When I ask if he wants to talk to them he says, "Why, I can't say anything that you haven't already said." He then calls me and tells me to ask questions of the guys repairing the stuff. I tell him he should ask the questions himself and he gives me looks that would melt glaciers.
When the repair guys leave, he's all over the repairs, usually not happy about the repairs. Then the yelling starts about, "Today's shoddy workmanship, the young workers who don't know jack shit (by the way, what's "jackshit?")" and the fact that he feels he's been personally screwed.
When I read Dennis the Menace in the newspapers I think Mr. Wilson and my husband have much in common. I've taken on the role of the ever understanding Mrs. Wilson who tolerates the miserable curmudgeon Mr. Wilson with a smile and a "yes, Dear".
If I understand this behavior correctly, I think it's just a way to express emotions. It's not to be taken with great seriousness. I think my job is to nod my head up and down and say, "Yes, Dear", then go on my way smiling.
I've learned over the years not to take on the attitude and moods of others, so I don't. The problem with that is, I get told I'm unfeeling and cold. So be it.
I come from a long line of folks who call a spade a spade. We don't gloss over things and try to make people "like us" by saying what they want to hear. I tell it as I see it, for better or worse.
Most of the time what I see from this man is a person who will not confront anyone mildly. His idea of confrontation must take on the form of fighting, arguing, anger and frustration. He loses his temper because he stuffs his feelings in all the time, then explodes. No one but me sees that side. Although, lately others have seen cracks in the veneer, so they know he's not all sugar and smiles.
We'll see what's to happen in the next year or so....things are not pretty right now and I'm getting very tired.......
Oh well...just another bother.....
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Snake Oil and Charms
If you're alive, a woman, and of a certain age you've been to a craft fair....The ones that are supposed to be the best are the ones advertised as, "Juried" shows. Down here in "God's Waiting Room" (Gulf Coast of Florida) there are tons of these shows. Most of them are the same vendors going from city to city with their little tents and canopies selling their wares to the same people that have seen the same ^%$# before at the other fairs they've gone to down here...But...sometimes you get a bit surprised, that happened today.
The town we stay in was blown off the face of the Earth several years ago with Hurricane Charlie. You can still see signs of damage and the place isn't back to normal yet. The damage was extensive and they lost many of the tourist trap places that brought folks to the area each winter. Consequently, they try all sorts of things to promote the City. There are art shows, wine tastings, evening walk abouts, Arts and culture events (not much art and the culture? well I'm sure they're trying.....). This is the second year they've sponsored a "juried" arts and crafts fair.
Everything here starts in the morning. I guess the old folks like to go and get home before lunch so they can eat, take their naps, have some cocktails, eat dinner, go to bed, then do the same thing again the next day...that is if they haven't gotten killed in a car wreck in the meantime....
I decided to see what this thing was all about. I went alone, because Larry would rather watch paint dry than walk around looking at crafty things. The weather down here has been windy and cold, I knew the place would be quiet. It was. I was the only "live" shopper at the time I arrived. Oh, there were other people there, but I'm not sure they were really "alive".
There were the usual things to see, but there were some very different things as well. A pleasant surprise. I was approached by a woman who dragged me to her booth to look at her wares. She was selling, selling hard mind you, some kind of lotions she guaranteed I would look 20 years younger if I used them...hmmm...snake oil??hmmm...
I let her go through her speech and watched as she smoothed on this lotion stuff on the back on one hand. She spoke to me the whole time she massaged my hand. After about 5 minuted I looked at my hand and it was devoid of all wrinkles and spots....The other hand looked like my grandmother's hand...What could I do? I had to buy the stuff so both my hands looked as thought they came on the same person.....I spent $25.00 on this stuff and ran like Hell away from her before she could get me into her spell again.....
I ran from "snake oil lady" directly into "gadget man". This guy had me mesmerized in 10 seconds flat....He was pushing some kind of grater-scraper thing and a bunch of other "must have" gadgets. Luckily he wasn't as persuasive as "snake oil lady" I only bought one thing from him.....
By that time I was lighter by about $60. and figured I had to make a bee line to my car before I started to turn out my pockets and give them lint....One last person got hold of me and sold me a tee shirt, that said "Group Therapy" it had pictures of my favorite cocktails on the front and a tiny little Martini glass on the back..How could I walk away from that?
All the stuff is in my suitcase...Larry will never know...
The town we stay in was blown off the face of the Earth several years ago with Hurricane Charlie. You can still see signs of damage and the place isn't back to normal yet. The damage was extensive and they lost many of the tourist trap places that brought folks to the area each winter. Consequently, they try all sorts of things to promote the City. There are art shows, wine tastings, evening walk abouts, Arts and culture events (not much art and the culture? well I'm sure they're trying.....). This is the second year they've sponsored a "juried" arts and crafts fair.
Everything here starts in the morning. I guess the old folks like to go and get home before lunch so they can eat, take their naps, have some cocktails, eat dinner, go to bed, then do the same thing again the next day...that is if they haven't gotten killed in a car wreck in the meantime....
I decided to see what this thing was all about. I went alone, because Larry would rather watch paint dry than walk around looking at crafty things. The weather down here has been windy and cold, I knew the place would be quiet. It was. I was the only "live" shopper at the time I arrived. Oh, there were other people there, but I'm not sure they were really "alive".
There were the usual things to see, but there were some very different things as well. A pleasant surprise. I was approached by a woman who dragged me to her booth to look at her wares. She was selling, selling hard mind you, some kind of lotions she guaranteed I would look 20 years younger if I used them...hmmm...snake oil??hmmm...
I let her go through her speech and watched as she smoothed on this lotion stuff on the back on one hand. She spoke to me the whole time she massaged my hand. After about 5 minuted I looked at my hand and it was devoid of all wrinkles and spots....The other hand looked like my grandmother's hand...What could I do? I had to buy the stuff so both my hands looked as thought they came on the same person.....I spent $25.00 on this stuff and ran like Hell away from her before she could get me into her spell again.....
I ran from "snake oil lady" directly into "gadget man". This guy had me mesmerized in 10 seconds flat....He was pushing some kind of grater-scraper thing and a bunch of other "must have" gadgets. Luckily he wasn't as persuasive as "snake oil lady" I only bought one thing from him.....
By that time I was lighter by about $60. and figured I had to make a bee line to my car before I started to turn out my pockets and give them lint....One last person got hold of me and sold me a tee shirt, that said "Group Therapy" it had pictures of my favorite cocktails on the front and a tiny little Martini glass on the back..How could I walk away from that?
All the stuff is in my suitcase...Larry will never know...
The Waiting Room
I'm down here in "God's Waiting Room" on the west coast of Florida. I swear each year when I come down here I think it'll be the last...Not that I'm planning on kicking off, but I'm sure I'm going to be killed by some old, really old, shouldn't be driving old, person behind the wheel of a car they can barely see over.....honest.
Coming down here gets us out of the worst part of the winter in the north, but this year I think we brought it with us.... We've seen some pretty odd get-ups on the folks walking around trying to stay warm. The folks at the Goodwill have people coming in there asking if they can "rent" warm clothing. They don't want to buy, just rent....
One lady walking around the Farmer's Market in Punta Gorda had on a ?fur? coat...Now I have to tell you, if I was to guess as to what kind of fur it was I'd have to say, something that should have kept it's coat because it was really bad looking. I followed her around, not so she'd think I was a stalker but long enough to see that the thing she had on her body was a cloth coat (with moth holes) and a fur thing over the top of the coat...It was a black background and the fur stuff was white, gray and black.
As she walked she left a wake of fur balls and strands of something that didn't look natural. Now honestly I'm not being catty, there were other folks looking at her as well. When I got closer to her I noticed she was very old. I'm thinking the coat thing was probably something she got as a present....when she was living in an Igloo in Iceland.
Most of the folks are smart enough to wear layers of clothing and understand the weather is a bit erratic this year. Other folk though, I'm sure they have no idea what they look like when they leave their homes.....
Coming down here gets us out of the worst part of the winter in the north, but this year I think we brought it with us.... We've seen some pretty odd get-ups on the folks walking around trying to stay warm. The folks at the Goodwill have people coming in there asking if they can "rent" warm clothing. They don't want to buy, just rent....
One lady walking around the Farmer's Market in Punta Gorda had on a ?fur? coat...Now I have to tell you, if I was to guess as to what kind of fur it was I'd have to say, something that should have kept it's coat because it was really bad looking. I followed her around, not so she'd think I was a stalker but long enough to see that the thing she had on her body was a cloth coat (with moth holes) and a fur thing over the top of the coat...It was a black background and the fur stuff was white, gray and black.
As she walked she left a wake of fur balls and strands of something that didn't look natural. Now honestly I'm not being catty, there were other folks looking at her as well. When I got closer to her I noticed she was very old. I'm thinking the coat thing was probably something she got as a present....when she was living in an Igloo in Iceland.
Most of the folks are smart enough to wear layers of clothing and understand the weather is a bit erratic this year. Other folk though, I'm sure they have no idea what they look like when they leave their homes.....
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