My parents, may they rest in peace, loved to tell the tale of how I came into the world kicking and screaming; unlike my older brother, who arrived with a wink in his eye and a smile on his face. I suspect his wink was just one eye opening sooner than the other, and I’m pretty sure his smile was just gas. He certainly contained an abundance of it later in life. That I was kicking and screaming may have been a reaction to the sound spanking I received soon after entering, but more likely it was due to being suddenly extracted from a warm, wet, and wonderful womb.
Being just born, my new world was understandably quite small, a world of regimen, carefully controlled activities and little excitement. I was incapable of speaking, walking, feeding myself, except out of a bottle, using the bathroom or doing pretty much anything else, except lying around and sleeping. As with all babies, I required constant attention and round-the-clock care. Failing to receive it, I would make my displeasure known, often by kicking and screaming.
Of course, as time went by, I learned to babble and finally speak, crawl and finally walk, use the bathroom, and even feed myself. Over the years, I grew larger in size, became more coordinated, even a bit athletic, and slowly expanded my horizons. I attended schools and universities where I garnered a wealth of information. I started businesses, not a few, where I attained a modicum of wealth. I married, more than once, and raised children, several, over far too many years (but that’s another story). I moved several times and traveled to many faraway places. As I grew older my world got larger and larger.
And then it started shrinking. I am now settled down, settled in and considering retiring. My kids are grown and moved away (not so much, but that’s also another story). My workload is decreasing, my wealth of information is escaping (as is, unfortunately, my modicum of wealth) and my athleticism is rapidly becoming couch potatoism. I’m smaller in size (not so much smaller as shorter and wider), as is my vocabulary, of which I used to be quite proud.
I know the day is coming when I will become far less coordinated, followed soon by far less ambulatory. My vocabulary will no doubt shrink to a few hundred words and then a few dozen words, which I will insist are the really important ones. I’ll soon get to the point when I can no longer walk without a walker, when I babble instead of speaking, when I wear my depends with pride and have to drink all my meals.
Eventually I will re-enter that world of regimen, carefully controlled activities, and little excitement. I won’t be doing a whole lot except lying around and sleeping, and will again require constant attention and round-the-clock care. When even round-the-clock care is not enough, it is my fondest hope that I will depart this world as I came in, kicking and screaming.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Generic Brand Names
As a child, jello was my favorite dessert. It sparkled, it wiggled, it was cold, and, loaded with sugar, it tasted great. But it turns out I wasn’t eating jello at all. I was eating a naturally sweetened, artificially fruit flavored, gelatin dessert treat. I wonder what, exactly, artificial fruit flavoring is. I’m sure it isn’t extracted from artificial fruit (artificial fruit tastes really terrible, never mind how I know). Anyway “Jello” is not a product: it’s a brand. Mom never bought “Jello” because it was too expensive. It didn’t matter, gelatin dessert treat was fine with me (remember the sugar). Nowadays my wife doesn’t buy “Jello” either. She also doesn’t buy naturally sweetened, artificially fruit-flavored, gelatin dessert treats (remember the sugar).
Do you think you’ve been buying kleenex all these years. Unless you’ve been buying “Kleenex,” you’ve just been purchasing two-ply (possible lotion infused) facial tissue. Have you been carefully cleansing your wounds and covering them with what you though were a “Band-Aids”? More likely, the dressings were just sterilized, breathable, single-use, adhesive pads with non-stick absorbent centers. Your trusty old hoover may, in fact be a “Hoover,” but more likely it’s just a vacuum cleaner, maybe a “Dyson” vacuum cleaner, which, I understand, really sucks (but in a good way). Over the years I know you’ve used scotch tape to wrap Christmas presents, or possibly magic tape. The transparent plastic, single-side, adhesive tape you used might well have been “Scotch Tape,” or possibly even “Magic Tape” (frosty on the roll, clear on the job).
Do your kids play with small, multi-colored, modular, interlocking building blocks? They might actually be playing with “Lego” (not “Legos,” by the way, you can look it up). Perhaps they once owned a personal portable cassette tape player, most likely a “Walkman.” Perhaps it has been replaced with a personal portable digital music player, most likely an “iPod.” If they are athletic, they may have a pair of neoprene wheeled, in-line skates, possibly “Rollerblades.” If they are really athletic and coordinated, they may even own a skateboard, possibly a skateboard (okay, not a generic brand name).
At one time or another we have all had a “Coke,” or some other caramel colored, cola bean flavored, carbonated soft drink. We’ve had “Ruffles,” corrugation sliced, deep fried potato chips; or “Twinkies,” chocolate covered, sugar cream infused, individual sized roll cakes. If we live in Hawaii (and possibly a few other places), we regularly have “Spam,” a canned, pre-cooked, pork shoulder and ham meat product. Kids everywhere, including a few of us older kids, love “Popsicles,” naturally (or unnaturally) sweetened, artificially fruit-flavored, frozen juice treats; and everybody’s just got to love “Ben & Jerry’s,” a delicious, naturally sweetened with real sugar (remember the sugar), comes in dozens of exotic flavors, made only with all natural ingredients, creamy and delicious ice cream. Okay, it’s not a generic brand name, but it should be.
And then there’s aspirin, cellophane, dry ice, email, kerosene, laundromat, thermos, videotape, yo-yo, and zipper, just a few examples of what were once brand names, now officially generic names, adopted into the lexicon of modern language. I often find myself wondering: Are there more? How many more? What was the very first brand name to go generic? Do other languages exhibit this same phenomenon? Does anyone really care about all this? Do I really care about this? Not really!
Do you think you’ve been buying kleenex all these years. Unless you’ve been buying “Kleenex,” you’ve just been purchasing two-ply (possible lotion infused) facial tissue. Have you been carefully cleansing your wounds and covering them with what you though were a “Band-Aids”? More likely, the dressings were just sterilized, breathable, single-use, adhesive pads with non-stick absorbent centers. Your trusty old hoover may, in fact be a “Hoover,” but more likely it’s just a vacuum cleaner, maybe a “Dyson” vacuum cleaner, which, I understand, really sucks (but in a good way). Over the years I know you’ve used scotch tape to wrap Christmas presents, or possibly magic tape. The transparent plastic, single-side, adhesive tape you used might well have been “Scotch Tape,” or possibly even “Magic Tape” (frosty on the roll, clear on the job).
Do your kids play with small, multi-colored, modular, interlocking building blocks? They might actually be playing with “Lego” (not “Legos,” by the way, you can look it up). Perhaps they once owned a personal portable cassette tape player, most likely a “Walkman.” Perhaps it has been replaced with a personal portable digital music player, most likely an “iPod.” If they are athletic, they may have a pair of neoprene wheeled, in-line skates, possibly “Rollerblades.” If they are really athletic and coordinated, they may even own a skateboard, possibly a skateboard (okay, not a generic brand name).
At one time or another we have all had a “Coke,” or some other caramel colored, cola bean flavored, carbonated soft drink. We’ve had “Ruffles,” corrugation sliced, deep fried potato chips; or “Twinkies,” chocolate covered, sugar cream infused, individual sized roll cakes. If we live in Hawaii (and possibly a few other places), we regularly have “Spam,” a canned, pre-cooked, pork shoulder and ham meat product. Kids everywhere, including a few of us older kids, love “Popsicles,” naturally (or unnaturally) sweetened, artificially fruit-flavored, frozen juice treats; and everybody’s just got to love “Ben & Jerry’s,” a delicious, naturally sweetened with real sugar (remember the sugar), comes in dozens of exotic flavors, made only with all natural ingredients, creamy and delicious ice cream. Okay, it’s not a generic brand name, but it should be.
And then there’s aspirin, cellophane, dry ice, email, kerosene, laundromat, thermos, videotape, yo-yo, and zipper, just a few examples of what were once brand names, now officially generic names, adopted into the lexicon of modern language. I often find myself wondering: Are there more? How many more? What was the very first brand name to go generic? Do other languages exhibit this same phenomenon? Does anyone really care about all this? Do I really care about this? Not really!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Dieting
I admit I have been gravity challenged much of my life. I was not a chubby baby, as was my brother. He was so rotund as a baby that Mom and Dad nicknamed him “Pumpkin.” “Pumpkin” soon became “Punky,” and unfortunately the nickname, as nicknames are prone to do, stuck. I suspect it was a good part of the reason he left home at 17 to join the Navy. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t thereafter known as “Seaman Punky.”
My gravity problem began when I was about seven years old. I was, in fact, a slim and healthy seven-year-old until the aforementioned Mom and Dad decided that slim and healthy were mutually exclusive. They were both a bit “big-boned,” as were most of their friends, so their conclusion was probably predictable. In any case, I was put on a regimen of vitamin B7 to cure my weight deficiency. Or was it B12, or perhaps B14, or perhaps B22? BINGO! But I digress.
Fortunately (or maybe not), the regimen worked. By the time I became eight, I was a virtual chubby cherub. And a relatively happy cherub I remained all through grade school. It was in high school, when girls suddenly became much more interesting, that I discovered the nickname “Chubbs” and the term “girlfriend” were mutually exclusive. It was in high school that I began dieting.
I have, to some degree, been dieting ever since. I believe I have, at one time or another, been on every diet known to man (okay, maybe not every diet, but a whole lot). I have tried (in alphabetical order for easy reference) the Atkins Diet, The Apple Cider Vinegar Diet (I grew up in Vermont’s apple country), the Bio Slim Diet, the Bio Trim Diet, the Cambridge Diet, the Carb Buster Diet and the Dexatrim Diet. The Dexatrim Diet wasn’t so much a diet as a way to stay awake during class in college: so many late nights studying and such. Being on a “diet” meant I could get pills from the infirmary for a buck each, instead of from Drug Store Bob (he actually worked in a drug store) for considerably more.
I have tried the Egg Diet, the Grapefruit Diet, the Hawaii Diet (after I moved to Hawaii, it seemed appropriate), the Ice Cream Diet (my personal favorite, but didn’t work at all) and the Nutrisystem Diet. I called it the Cash for Cardboard Diet. Can food that needs absolutely no refrigeration and has a three year shelf life really be good for you? I have tried the Pritikin Diet, the Slim Fast Diet (more accurately the Slim Slow Diet), the South Beach Diet, the South of the Border Diet (lots of beans, not recommended for people with spouses and/or friends), and even the Weight Watchers Diet.
Make no mistake, most of the diets worked, at least for a while. I have gone from as much as 235 pounds to as little as 155 pounds, time and time again. For some reason I just can’t seem to keep the weight off. I have always followed each regimen religiously (well maybe a little binge here and there), except maybe for the parts about lifestyle change and exercise.
My gravity problem began when I was about seven years old. I was, in fact, a slim and healthy seven-year-old until the aforementioned Mom and Dad decided that slim and healthy were mutually exclusive. They were both a bit “big-boned,” as were most of their friends, so their conclusion was probably predictable. In any case, I was put on a regimen of vitamin B7 to cure my weight deficiency. Or was it B12, or perhaps B14, or perhaps B22? BINGO! But I digress.
Fortunately (or maybe not), the regimen worked. By the time I became eight, I was a virtual chubby cherub. And a relatively happy cherub I remained all through grade school. It was in high school, when girls suddenly became much more interesting, that I discovered the nickname “Chubbs” and the term “girlfriend” were mutually exclusive. It was in high school that I began dieting.
I have, to some degree, been dieting ever since. I believe I have, at one time or another, been on every diet known to man (okay, maybe not every diet, but a whole lot). I have tried (in alphabetical order for easy reference) the Atkins Diet, The Apple Cider Vinegar Diet (I grew up in Vermont’s apple country), the Bio Slim Diet, the Bio Trim Diet, the Cambridge Diet, the Carb Buster Diet and the Dexatrim Diet. The Dexatrim Diet wasn’t so much a diet as a way to stay awake during class in college: so many late nights studying and such. Being on a “diet” meant I could get pills from the infirmary for a buck each, instead of from Drug Store Bob (he actually worked in a drug store) for considerably more.
I have tried the Egg Diet, the Grapefruit Diet, the Hawaii Diet (after I moved to Hawaii, it seemed appropriate), the Ice Cream Diet (my personal favorite, but didn’t work at all) and the Nutrisystem Diet. I called it the Cash for Cardboard Diet. Can food that needs absolutely no refrigeration and has a three year shelf life really be good for you? I have tried the Pritikin Diet, the Slim Fast Diet (more accurately the Slim Slow Diet), the South Beach Diet, the South of the Border Diet (lots of beans, not recommended for people with spouses and/or friends), and even the Weight Watchers Diet.
Make no mistake, most of the diets worked, at least for a while. I have gone from as much as 235 pounds to as little as 155 pounds, time and time again. For some reason I just can’t seem to keep the weight off. I have always followed each regimen religiously (well maybe a little binge here and there), except maybe for the parts about lifestyle change and exercise.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Modern Technology, Part 2
Remember records? Lovely disks of black plastic (“black wax biscuits” in the vernacular of the day) etched with music. There were 78’s (because they rotated at 78 revolutions per minute), with the music of the Big Bands and songs of the greatest singers that ever lived (my opinion, I could be wrong). There were LP’s (long playing albums) containing not one, but several songs from your favorite artist. They were expensive, costing up to $5.99 per album, but well worth the exorbitant price. Then there were 45’s (your guessed it, 45 revolutions per minute). They contained only one song, but cost under a buck. I have no idea why, but they were manufactured with a big hole in the center requiring a special spindle to play them on your turntable (you guessed it, because it turned round and round). No doubt it was a sinister plot devised by spindle company stock owning politicians.
I loved records. I collected records. I had a collection of over 1000 records including a few dozen classic 78’s, a couple hundred LP’s and several hundred 45’s. I loved them, right up until the day my brother and I sailed them off the lip of the local dump. What’s a dump? That’s another story. They flew like “black wax Frisbees” all the way to the river (yes, the dump was on the bank of a river). What’s a Frisbee? That’s also another story.
I remember the day I heard my first CD. I was shopping at Gaynes, “where you gain more,” (think Wal Mart lite) and heard it from all the way from seven aisles over. The sound filled the store. It was loud, it was clear. Gone were the subtle hisses, pops, and squeaks that embellished my records (maybe not so subtle later on, hence the dump incident). I must admit, I was impressed. I was so impressed that within a couple years I had a collection of over 1000 CD’s. It’s not what you think, I still have them – somewhere – I’m almost sure.
I probably don’t need to bore you with the story of my expansive VHS collection. Suffice it to say, I had a collected over 1000 VHS tapes when DVD’s hit the stores. I’m happy to report that they did not fly off the edge of the dump (there wasn’t a dump anymore, anyway), and they didn’t even end up in the landfill (at least not yet). I was able to sell them all to a local video store for almost a dollar each.
Today I am the proud owner of over 2000 DVD’s. Hello! Is someone not paying attention? I am undaunted by the advent of BluRay. And no, I did not buy a single HD DVD. I’m sure Blu Ray is just a passing fad and will soon be replaced by Red Ray or Orange Ray or whatever the latest Ray may be. I’m sure the features will be phenomenal and include interactive, reactive, proactive and several other active type things. I won’t be buying any BluRay disks. I won’t be buying any future type of Ray disks either. I have discovered NetFlix!
I loved records. I collected records. I had a collection of over 1000 records including a few dozen classic 78’s, a couple hundred LP’s and several hundred 45’s. I loved them, right up until the day my brother and I sailed them off the lip of the local dump. What’s a dump? That’s another story. They flew like “black wax Frisbees” all the way to the river (yes, the dump was on the bank of a river). What’s a Frisbee? That’s also another story.
I remember the day I heard my first CD. I was shopping at Gaynes, “where you gain more,” (think Wal Mart lite) and heard it from all the way from seven aisles over. The sound filled the store. It was loud, it was clear. Gone were the subtle hisses, pops, and squeaks that embellished my records (maybe not so subtle later on, hence the dump incident). I must admit, I was impressed. I was so impressed that within a couple years I had a collection of over 1000 CD’s. It’s not what you think, I still have them – somewhere – I’m almost sure.
I probably don’t need to bore you with the story of my expansive VHS collection. Suffice it to say, I had a collected over 1000 VHS tapes when DVD’s hit the stores. I’m happy to report that they did not fly off the edge of the dump (there wasn’t a dump anymore, anyway), and they didn’t even end up in the landfill (at least not yet). I was able to sell them all to a local video store for almost a dollar each.
Today I am the proud owner of over 2000 DVD’s. Hello! Is someone not paying attention? I am undaunted by the advent of BluRay. And no, I did not buy a single HD DVD. I’m sure Blu Ray is just a passing fad and will soon be replaced by Red Ray or Orange Ray or whatever the latest Ray may be. I’m sure the features will be phenomenal and include interactive, reactive, proactive and several other active type things. I won’t be buying any BluRay disks. I won’t be buying any future type of Ray disks either. I have discovered NetFlix!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Anti-virus Software
I’m certainly not a computer geek. I don’t think I’m any kind of geek, but I’m not sure what a geek actually is, so I’d best soft-pedal the self-appraisal.
Because I’m not a geek, I am, evidently, very susceptible to an insidious disease to which non-geeks are prone. I recently caught a dreaded virus, a computer virus. I’m pretty sure the disease isn’t fatal, but I’ve heard rumors of infected people suddenly exhibiting very erratic behavior including loud utterances, wild uncontrollable gestures, and even violence involving inanimate objects.
Of course, it is not I who was actually infected, it was my computer. None the less, my symptoms were very real, and I shared the same lethargy, confusion and decreased productivity as my trusted laptop. Much, I suppose, as we all suffer when a dear friend and companion is ailing, or when a loved one is stricken with a serious and debilitating disease. I couldn’t seem to get started on any new task, anything I did seemed to take forever, and often I would completely forget what I was doing and have to start over. Sometimes I would get so overwhelmed, I would literally “crash” and have to take a nap.
I was comforted, however, in the knowledge that cures for this particular disease were widely available on the internet. One might ask, and this is a reasonable query, why my computer didn’t have preventetive software pre-installed by the manufacturer (why wasn’t it vaccinated, so to speak).
Alas, it wasn’t, but I quickly located a highly regarded and virtually, pardon the pun, free software to cure the ailment. I quickly downloaded and installed the software (it took about 3 hours but I’ve learned that computer hours are like dog years in reverse, 3 hours to us being only 20 minutes to software manufacturers). And, in fact, the software is working as advertised. The virus, actually many viruses I’ve since learned, are gone and I’m confident they will not return. If they do, they will quickly be vanquished by the software that is constantly “running in the background to provide 24/7 protection.”
Unfortunately, because the software is constantly running in the background, my computer is not running very well in the foreground. It takes forever to open a new program, then takes forever to run it. Often a program will stop running completely and have to start over. Sometimes the processor gets so overloaded, the computer literally “crashes” and “goes to sleep” (takes a nap, so to speak).
Because I’m not a geek, I am, evidently, very susceptible to an insidious disease to which non-geeks are prone. I recently caught a dreaded virus, a computer virus. I’m pretty sure the disease isn’t fatal, but I’ve heard rumors of infected people suddenly exhibiting very erratic behavior including loud utterances, wild uncontrollable gestures, and even violence involving inanimate objects.
Of course, it is not I who was actually infected, it was my computer. None the less, my symptoms were very real, and I shared the same lethargy, confusion and decreased productivity as my trusted laptop. Much, I suppose, as we all suffer when a dear friend and companion is ailing, or when a loved one is stricken with a serious and debilitating disease. I couldn’t seem to get started on any new task, anything I did seemed to take forever, and often I would completely forget what I was doing and have to start over. Sometimes I would get so overwhelmed, I would literally “crash” and have to take a nap.
I was comforted, however, in the knowledge that cures for this particular disease were widely available on the internet. One might ask, and this is a reasonable query, why my computer didn’t have preventetive software pre-installed by the manufacturer (why wasn’t it vaccinated, so to speak).
Alas, it wasn’t, but I quickly located a highly regarded and virtually, pardon the pun, free software to cure the ailment. I quickly downloaded and installed the software (it took about 3 hours but I’ve learned that computer hours are like dog years in reverse, 3 hours to us being only 20 minutes to software manufacturers). And, in fact, the software is working as advertised. The virus, actually many viruses I’ve since learned, are gone and I’m confident they will not return. If they do, they will quickly be vanquished by the software that is constantly “running in the background to provide 24/7 protection.”
Unfortunately, because the software is constantly running in the background, my computer is not running very well in the foreground. It takes forever to open a new program, then takes forever to run it. Often a program will stop running completely and have to start over. Sometimes the processor gets so overloaded, the computer literally “crashes” and “goes to sleep” (takes a nap, so to speak).
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Voice Mail
Is it just me, or is it getting harder and harder to get real information or talk to real people on the phone these days? It seems that no matter what company I call, to ask a question about a bill for instance, the phone is always answered by the same recording of the same pleasant lady with the same exhaustive recorded greeting. As for me, I’m already exhausted from trying to decipher a bill with 26 pages of charges, surcharges, additional charges, access charges, excise charges, excise taxes, state taxes, federal taxes, and processing fees (but that’s another story).
In any case, the pleasant lady must always begin by informing me to “please listen carefully as our menu has recently changed.” Really? Nearly every company in the world just changed their menu? What a remarkable coincidence! And do I need to know this anyway? I have no idea what the menu used to be, so I probably wouldn’t have been confused.
None the less, having been duly warned, I listen carefully as the pleasant lady continues her recorded greeting and begins relating the comprehensive list of number options from which I can make my selection. In great detail, I learn how to receive automated answers to every question imaginable, except mine. Being incredibly naive, I patiently wait for the correct number option to speak to a real person. Of course, there is no such number option. Or perhaps I just missed it. (I have no excuse, I was specifically instructed to listen carefully). Fortunately, I can listen to the menu again by pressing number option one.
Should I foolishly decide instead, to select a number option for an automated answer, I must first enter or say my 8 or 12 or 16 digit account number. Whether I enter or say it, all 16 digits will be read back to me so I can enter or say “one” if the number is correct. Heaven help me if I must enter or say “two” because the number is incorrect. I find this requirement to enter the account number interesting because in the rare instance when I actually reached a real person, the first thing they always say is, “may I please have your account number?”
The second thing they invariably say is “I’m sorry, you’ve reached the wrong department. You need to call…..”
Monday, November 15, 2010
Not Available in Hawaii
“Lucky we live Hawaii,” is a favorite expression of residents of my home, our 50th state. And lucky we are in many ways. Nearly perfect weather year round. Dramatic scenery punctuated by pristine beaches abutting crystal clear, azure blue waters. And some of the friendliest people to be found anywhere this side of the great hereafter. In fact, the great hereafter is probably a lot like: here.
Lucky indeed, unless we happen to be one of the 200 million shoppers in the US who like to shop online. Granted, Hawaii has only about 1.5 million residents, and I’m sure a lot of us don’t shop online, but some of us do (some being equal to over 1 million shoppers). And I suspect we would online-shop even more if so many online retailers didn’t, apparently, consider us unworthy. THEY DON’T SHIP TO HAWAII. I don’t want to mention any names (OVER the concern of STOCKing COMtroversy) but they know who they are. Perhaps they think that because most of us live “on the beach in grass shacks,” we don’t own computers. Or if we own them, the beach surely doesn’t have wi-fi.
I’m guessing it has something to do with location. Hawaii is, after all, a long way from “America” (don’t get me started, that’s another story). Although many maps of the US depict Hawaii and Alaska just a few miles off the coast of Southern California, this isn’t actually the case. You need a boat or a plane to get to Hawaii unless you’re a really, really good swimmer. I suspect some retailers fear that shipping to such a faraway place must be nearly impossible or, at least, very expensive.
The Post Office, it seems, doesn’t realize the extreme difficulty of shipping to Hawaii and offers to deliver “flat rate” parcels for the same cost as to the next town over. UPS even ships to Hawaii for “ground rates,” even though they have to make use of an above the ground vehicle. But let’s be fair. If companies that don’t ship to Hawaii are seriously OVERSTOCKed, they may not have time to uncover the truth about shipping to Hawaii. I believe, however, that the information is available, online.
Lucky indeed, unless we happen to be one of the 200 million shoppers in the US who like to shop online. Granted, Hawaii has only about 1.5 million residents, and I’m sure a lot of us don’t shop online, but some of us do (some being equal to over 1 million shoppers). And I suspect we would online-shop even more if so many online retailers didn’t, apparently, consider us unworthy. THEY DON’T SHIP TO HAWAII. I don’t want to mention any names (OVER the concern of STOCKing COMtroversy) but they know who they are. Perhaps they think that because most of us live “on the beach in grass shacks,” we don’t own computers. Or if we own them, the beach surely doesn’t have wi-fi.
I’m guessing it has something to do with location. Hawaii is, after all, a long way from “America” (don’t get me started, that’s another story). Although many maps of the US depict Hawaii and Alaska just a few miles off the coast of Southern California, this isn’t actually the case. You need a boat or a plane to get to Hawaii unless you’re a really, really good swimmer. I suspect some retailers fear that shipping to such a faraway place must be nearly impossible or, at least, very expensive.
The Post Office, it seems, doesn’t realize the extreme difficulty of shipping to Hawaii and offers to deliver “flat rate” parcels for the same cost as to the next town over. UPS even ships to Hawaii for “ground rates,” even though they have to make use of an above the ground vehicle. But let’s be fair. If companies that don’t ship to Hawaii are seriously OVERSTOCKed, they may not have time to uncover the truth about shipping to Hawaii. I believe, however, that the information is available, online.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Modern Technology
I admit it. I love gadgets. Being your classic early adopter (otherwise known as unpaid beta tester, so to speak), I purchased one of the very first videotape player machines. It was a truly impressive (meaning very big and very heavy) piece of equipment into which you inserted giant “walkman” tapes that allowed you to watch movies, yes real movie theatre movies, on your television. The tapes were only $80 to $90 each, so if you watched one just 14 or 15 times, it was almost as cheap as going to the real movies.
This wonderful machine looked a lot like a giant “walkman” player, complete with doors that popped open, trays that jumped up and huge buttons that only required two hands and a bit of leverage to depress. It was a steal at only $999.99. So, from a wide selection of over two dozen movies, I also purchased two recent movie titles to watch on my marvel of modern technology. As I remember, I purchased Midnight Cowboy and The Graduate. A bit racy, perhaps, for the times (Midnight Cowboy was in fact X rated), but I was now on the cutting edge of consumerism. Decorum be damned.
My new video tapeplayer machine gave me many many weeks of reliable service and continued entertainment. Granted, the pop-up tray stopped popping up after a couple of days, but a carefully inserted butter knife remedied the problem, with the added bonus of the tray popping back down all by itself. Everything else on this wonderful machine worked as promised; and except for the names on the buttons quickly wearing off, I had had no real problems.
I couldn’t afford to purchase any additional movies for my player, so I watched the ones I had several times. I did stop discovering new and subtle nuances of character and plot after about 15 viewings. I stopped looking after about 30. I would have been happy to trade movies with my friends, but none of my friends had a videotape player machine or movies to trade. They were not, unfortunately, early adopters. They foolishly preferred to spend their money on such things as food and shelter.
None the less, I took comfort in the fact that I was a pioneer. I had the very first video tape player machine in my neighborhood. I could watch real movies on my television. I was a man of vision. When my friends were just purchasing their very first machines, I would already have an impressive collection of videotape movies.
Unfortunately, my vision may have been a bit short-sighted. I was an early adopter (a beta tester, so to speak) of a BetaMax.
This wonderful machine looked a lot like a giant “walkman” player, complete with doors that popped open, trays that jumped up and huge buttons that only required two hands and a bit of leverage to depress. It was a steal at only $999.99. So, from a wide selection of over two dozen movies, I also purchased two recent movie titles to watch on my marvel of modern technology. As I remember, I purchased Midnight Cowboy and The Graduate. A bit racy, perhaps, for the times (Midnight Cowboy was in fact X rated), but I was now on the cutting edge of consumerism. Decorum be damned.
My new video tapeplayer machine gave me many many weeks of reliable service and continued entertainment. Granted, the pop-up tray stopped popping up after a couple of days, but a carefully inserted butter knife remedied the problem, with the added bonus of the tray popping back down all by itself. Everything else on this wonderful machine worked as promised; and except for the names on the buttons quickly wearing off, I had had no real problems.
I couldn’t afford to purchase any additional movies for my player, so I watched the ones I had several times. I did stop discovering new and subtle nuances of character and plot after about 15 viewings. I stopped looking after about 30. I would have been happy to trade movies with my friends, but none of my friends had a videotape player machine or movies to trade. They were not, unfortunately, early adopters. They foolishly preferred to spend their money on such things as food and shelter.
None the less, I took comfort in the fact that I was a pioneer. I had the very first video tape player machine in my neighborhood. I could watch real movies on my television. I was a man of vision. When my friends were just purchasing their very first machines, I would already have an impressive collection of videotape movies.
Unfortunately, my vision may have been a bit short-sighted. I was an early adopter (a beta tester, so to speak) of a BetaMax.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Outsourcing
It seems that over the last few years a significant number of jobs previously held by residents of the US of A have been transferred to residents of India. I guess it’s because the residents or India are far more qualified to perform these jobs. Otherwise, in this economy, why would US companies be taking jobs away from US workers? I’m sure it can’t be due to the fact that the many Indian workers make in a day about what many American workers make during a coffee break.
Tech support seems to be especially adaptable to the “Indian Alternative.” I’m pretty sure my recent call to get help with my HP computer was taken in Mumbai. The lady greeted me with; “Good evening (it was 9:00 in the morning), my name is Padma, how may I be helping you please?” I’m pretty sure it was Mumbai because American tech support people are seldom women, and never so polite.
I’ve been told that outsourcing is actually good for our economy: Sudhakar Ram, managing director of Mastek, Mumbai, does make a very compelling argument. No doubt, it allows large corporations to improve service and cut costs (at least cut costs), and this is always good news. The stockholders are happy, the executives are happy (the displaced workers, maybe not so much), and executive bonuses are up.
BPO and KPO are the new buzz acronyms: Business Process and Knowledge Process Outsourcing. Over 75% of major US corporations are heavily engaged in the PO’s. Over one million US jobs have been PO’d already, and over one billion US dollars are PO’d every year. I’m not sure our economy can handle much more good news.
Undoubtedly, new jobs will be created from all the PO’ing going on. Unemployment counseling and outsourcing consulting should be growth industries. Realtors specializing in foreclosures should do very well, and of course many more government employees will be needed to deal with all the newly unemployed. Wait! Wouldn’t the processing of unemployment claims be a natural for outsourcing?
Tech support seems to be especially adaptable to the “Indian Alternative.” I’m pretty sure my recent call to get help with my HP computer was taken in Mumbai. The lady greeted me with; “Good evening (it was 9:00 in the morning), my name is Padma, how may I be helping you please?” I’m pretty sure it was Mumbai because American tech support people are seldom women, and never so polite.
I’ve been told that outsourcing is actually good for our economy: Sudhakar Ram, managing director of Mastek, Mumbai, does make a very compelling argument. No doubt, it allows large corporations to improve service and cut costs (at least cut costs), and this is always good news. The stockholders are happy, the executives are happy (the displaced workers, maybe not so much), and executive bonuses are up.
BPO and KPO are the new buzz acronyms: Business Process and Knowledge Process Outsourcing. Over 75% of major US corporations are heavily engaged in the PO’s. Over one million US jobs have been PO’d already, and over one billion US dollars are PO’d every year. I’m not sure our economy can handle much more good news.
Undoubtedly, new jobs will be created from all the PO’ing going on. Unemployment counseling and outsourcing consulting should be growth industries. Realtors specializing in foreclosures should do very well, and of course many more government employees will be needed to deal with all the newly unemployed. Wait! Wouldn’t the processing of unemployment claims be a natural for outsourcing?
Monday, November 8, 2010
Class Action Lawsuits
I have been notified that I am a plaintiff is a class action lawsuit against Classmates.com. I don’t remember signing up for Classmates.com, but if I’m a plaintiff, I must have signed up, and I’m sure I must have been severely wronged by the actions of what must be a greedy and corrupt conglomerate out to exploit the vulnerabilities of classmates everywhere. I mean, if they weren’t greedy and corrupt, why would I be suing them?
I’m not exactly sure what I am getting if and when I win this lawsuit. It appears it could be as much as $3.00, however more likely $2.00. Unfortunately I won’t be able to spend my $2.00 for just any crazy extravagant purchase I might have imagined. I will, however, be able to upgrade my Classmates.com membership to “Gold” status for $2.00 less than those shortsighted individuals who had neither the insight to recognize how severely they had been hurt, or the vision to take legal action to redress the injury.
Out of curiosity, I went to the Classmates.com website to see just what my savings would get me, only to discover that if I upgrade now I can save $2.50 off the normal $5.00 cost for a three month “Gold Membership.” Imagine my dilemma! Do I upgrade now and save $2.50 or wait until after the lawsuit is settled and maybe save $3.00? I must admit, I’m inclined to wait. After all, there is an important principle involved here.
I agree, my award may not seem like much compensation for my injuries, but I take heart in the knowledge that two of my fellow plaintiffs stand to receive $2500 each. I know they will spend the money wisely, perhaps on a well deserved vacation, and perhaps even drink a toast to all those other plaintiffs who have suffered so much at the hands of Classmates.com.
Of course the attorneys will receive a well-deserved $1,050,000 plus expenses for their extraordinary efforts on my behalf. I mean, the disclosure document alone ran to 66 pages, and it’s just full of very impressive legal-type language. Not to mention the exhaustive work involved in emailing all us plaintiffs and the endless negotiations which will be needed to ensure we all get the $3.00 we deserve, instead of the paltry $2.00 the defendants hope we will settle for.
I’m not exactly sure what I am getting if and when I win this lawsuit. It appears it could be as much as $3.00, however more likely $2.00. Unfortunately I won’t be able to spend my $2.00 for just any crazy extravagant purchase I might have imagined. I will, however, be able to upgrade my Classmates.com membership to “Gold” status for $2.00 less than those shortsighted individuals who had neither the insight to recognize how severely they had been hurt, or the vision to take legal action to redress the injury.
Out of curiosity, I went to the Classmates.com website to see just what my savings would get me, only to discover that if I upgrade now I can save $2.50 off the normal $5.00 cost for a three month “Gold Membership.” Imagine my dilemma! Do I upgrade now and save $2.50 or wait until after the lawsuit is settled and maybe save $3.00? I must admit, I’m inclined to wait. After all, there is an important principle involved here.
I agree, my award may not seem like much compensation for my injuries, but I take heart in the knowledge that two of my fellow plaintiffs stand to receive $2500 each. I know they will spend the money wisely, perhaps on a well deserved vacation, and perhaps even drink a toast to all those other plaintiffs who have suffered so much at the hands of Classmates.com.
Of course the attorneys will receive a well-deserved $1,050,000 plus expenses for their extraordinary efforts on my behalf. I mean, the disclosure document alone ran to 66 pages, and it’s just full of very impressive legal-type language. Not to mention the exhaustive work involved in emailing all us plaintiffs and the endless negotiations which will be needed to ensure we all get the $3.00 we deserve, instead of the paltry $2.00 the defendants hope we will settle for.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Credit Card Companies, Part 2
When the economy imploded we, the taxpayers, bailed them out. Actually, I believe we bailed out the banks that own the credit card companies, or perhaps it was the companies that own the banks that own the credit card companies, or was it the companies that own the companies that own the banks that own the credit card companies? OK, I don’t know whom we bailed out, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t we, the taxpayers.
Here’s the interesting part. Because they could no longer meet their financial commitments, we loaned (spelled G-A-V-E) banks the money to do so until times got better. And fortunately, they reciprocated by giving us, the credit card holder (spelled T-A-X-P-A-Y-E- R), more time and a lower interest rate to help us meet our financial commitments.
Or did I mis-remember that? Did they actually double or triple our interest rate, lower our credit limit, and, should we then miss a payment, start contacting us on a regular basis to give us a “friendly” reminder that we seem to have fallen behind?
Is it just me, or is there a certain resemblance here to another long-established and time-honored lending institution? Easily made loans with little or no credit verification, extremely high interest rates, and “friendly” reminders for failure to make payments (assuming broken knee caps qualify as friendly reminders). Have today’s credit card companies become a bit predatory, perhaps even shark-like?
Here’s another interesting part. Miss not one, but several payments, and all the rules seem to change. Suddenly it’s no longer important to make payments on time. Suddenly interest disappears altogether and payment plans can be easily arranged. In fact, for an immediate cash payment of as little as 25% of the balance, the debt will be considered “paid in full.” Note: your ability to obtain credit in the future (or ever) may be adversely affected; “snuffed out,” so to speak.
Am I missing something here? Wouldn’t it make more sense to help out the credit card holder (spelled T-A-X-P-A-Y-E-R) rather than “snuff him out”?
Here’s the interesting part. Because they could no longer meet their financial commitments, we loaned (spelled G-A-V-E) banks the money to do so until times got better. And fortunately, they reciprocated by giving us, the credit card holder (spelled T-A-X-P-A-Y-E- R), more time and a lower interest rate to help us meet our financial commitments.
Or did I mis-remember that? Did they actually double or triple our interest rate, lower our credit limit, and, should we then miss a payment, start contacting us on a regular basis to give us a “friendly” reminder that we seem to have fallen behind?
Is it just me, or is there a certain resemblance here to another long-established and time-honored lending institution? Easily made loans with little or no credit verification, extremely high interest rates, and “friendly” reminders for failure to make payments (assuming broken knee caps qualify as friendly reminders). Have today’s credit card companies become a bit predatory, perhaps even shark-like?
Here’s another interesting part. Miss not one, but several payments, and all the rules seem to change. Suddenly it’s no longer important to make payments on time. Suddenly interest disappears altogether and payment plans can be easily arranged. In fact, for an immediate cash payment of as little as 25% of the balance, the debt will be considered “paid in full.” Note: your ability to obtain credit in the future (or ever) may be adversely affected; “snuffed out,” so to speak.
Am I missing something here? Wouldn’t it make more sense to help out the credit card holder (spelled T-A-X-P-A-Y-E-R) rather than “snuff him out”?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Frequent Flier Miles
Many, I mean many many, years ago I joined the American Airlines Frequent Flyer Program. I wasn’t actually an American Airlines Frequent Flyer, and in I’d never even flown on American Airlines. I’d hardly flown on any airline, for that matter, but it seems that actually flying isn’t required in order to accumulate “frequent flyer miles.”
All that I needed to do was obtain and use the brand new AAdvantage MasterCard. I think the first A in AAdvantage is silent, like the first A in Aardvark or the P in Psychotic, which I undoubtedly was at the time.
In any case, I used my new AAdvantage Card with gusto, some might even say abandon, and racked up “miles” at an impressive pace. Dreaming of exotic vacations in faraway places, I may have failed to notice that my new credit card, with quite an impressive credit line, had an even more impressive interest rate; but that’s another story.
Soon came the day to book that first vacation, and with over 60,000 “miles” in the bank, so to speak, I calculated that the airfare was “paid in full.” It turns out my calculations were a bit off. Plans to travel during the holidays (it seemed to make sense as I wouldn’t be working then) were dashed when I discovered the concept of “blackout dates.” I’m sure “blackout dates” were mentioned on the credit card agreement, undoubtedly next to the itty bitty print disclosing the interest rates.
Undeterred, I changed my plans to travel when “blackout dates” didn’t apply. But surprisingly, it turned out that there were no seats available on any of the alternate dates I suggested. I seriously doubted that every seat on every flight I proposed was sold out, and my suspicions were, in fact, justified. It was then that I learned about the concept of different “reward levels.”
I did finally take that first vacation, albeit much later and costing far more “miles” than anticipated, and I’ve taken several vacations since, all courtesy of American Airlines. Interestingly, I don’t remember ever actually purchasing a ticket on American Airlines. Wasn’t that supposed to be the whole point?
All that I needed to do was obtain and use the brand new AAdvantage MasterCard. I think the first A in AAdvantage is silent, like the first A in Aardvark or the P in Psychotic, which I undoubtedly was at the time.
In any case, I used my new AAdvantage Card with gusto, some might even say abandon, and racked up “miles” at an impressive pace. Dreaming of exotic vacations in faraway places, I may have failed to notice that my new credit card, with quite an impressive credit line, had an even more impressive interest rate; but that’s another story.
Soon came the day to book that first vacation, and with over 60,000 “miles” in the bank, so to speak, I calculated that the airfare was “paid in full.” It turns out my calculations were a bit off. Plans to travel during the holidays (it seemed to make sense as I wouldn’t be working then) were dashed when I discovered the concept of “blackout dates.” I’m sure “blackout dates” were mentioned on the credit card agreement, undoubtedly next to the itty bitty print disclosing the interest rates.
Undeterred, I changed my plans to travel when “blackout dates” didn’t apply. But surprisingly, it turned out that there were no seats available on any of the alternate dates I suggested. I seriously doubted that every seat on every flight I proposed was sold out, and my suspicions were, in fact, justified. It was then that I learned about the concept of different “reward levels.”
I did finally take that first vacation, albeit much later and costing far more “miles” than anticipated, and I’ve taken several vacations since, all courtesy of American Airlines. Interestingly, I don’t remember ever actually purchasing a ticket on American Airlines. Wasn’t that supposed to be the whole point?
Credit Card Companies
If you believe the advertising, they are the consumer’s best friend. If you get the new whatever card, not only will all your finances suddenly become manageable and organized, but you will reap benefits beyond the imagination: double and even triple reward points that can be used to purchase all kinds of wonderful stuff (never mind if it’s stuff you don’t need) and purchase travel with “no blackout dates.” Actually the “no blackout dates” would be nice; my frequent flyer miles seem to have nothing but blackout dates, but that’s another story. One might think that instead of “benefits beyond the imagination,” the companies might just offer reasonable interest rates and minimal penalties. But then one might be incredibly naive.
Is it my imagination or do the credit card companies function just a tiny bit like drug dealers? Don’t the pushers on the street corners offer you a free trial of the newest mind-bending substance - don’t worry, it’s not really additive - in order to get you hooked. Only to then charge exorbitant prices for their product down the road, when you’ve got to have it. Likewise, have you ever received a credit card solicitation offering up to tens of thousands of dollars (emphasis on the “up to”) at just 3%, 2%, or even 0% interest? Just sign the check, attached for your convenience, and the money is yours to use any way you please. You can even pay down your other high interest credit cards (of course not our high interest credit cards). “Don’t worry, there aren’t any catches,” or at least none you’ll know about unless you read the tiny print on the back of this offer, something that anyone with a microscope handy can easily do.
Should you actually read the back of the offer, you may discover that your 0% interest rate automatically becomes 14% to 18% within a few months. And should you be foolish enough to make more than the minimum payment on the balance, rest assured that the additional payment will pay down the 0% balance, nothing at a higher rate. By the way, don’t even dream of being late on a payment; the rate could jump to 29.99% or higher (evidently 29.99% is significantly lower than 30%) and stay there, forever. I guess the reasoning must be that, if you are having trouble making your payments at 15%, doubling the interest rate will certainly solve the problem.
If for some unexplainable reason it doesn’t solve the problem, it gets even better; but that also is another story.
Is it my imagination or do the credit card companies function just a tiny bit like drug dealers? Don’t the pushers on the street corners offer you a free trial of the newest mind-bending substance - don’t worry, it’s not really additive - in order to get you hooked. Only to then charge exorbitant prices for their product down the road, when you’ve got to have it. Likewise, have you ever received a credit card solicitation offering up to tens of thousands of dollars (emphasis on the “up to”) at just 3%, 2%, or even 0% interest? Just sign the check, attached for your convenience, and the money is yours to use any way you please. You can even pay down your other high interest credit cards (of course not our high interest credit cards). “Don’t worry, there aren’t any catches,” or at least none you’ll know about unless you read the tiny print on the back of this offer, something that anyone with a microscope handy can easily do.
Should you actually read the back of the offer, you may discover that your 0% interest rate automatically becomes 14% to 18% within a few months. And should you be foolish enough to make more than the minimum payment on the balance, rest assured that the additional payment will pay down the 0% balance, nothing at a higher rate. By the way, don’t even dream of being late on a payment; the rate could jump to 29.99% or higher (evidently 29.99% is significantly lower than 30%) and stay there, forever. I guess the reasoning must be that, if you are having trouble making your payments at 15%, doubling the interest rate will certainly solve the problem.
If for some unexplainable reason it doesn’t solve the problem, it gets even better; but that also is another story.
Foreclosures
If hundreds of thousands of homes are in foreclosure and maybe two million families will lose their homes this year, the government must be doing something right. I mean must be doing something – right?
Well it turns out, they are doing something, something being spelled H-A-M-P, which stands for Home Affordable Modification Program. The program is designed to reduce the mortgage payment of homeowners unable to make their present payment due to a significant reduction in income. It seems that losing one’s job can result in a significant reduction in income. Who knew?
The program may be working. In fact, I personally know of someone who received a HAMP modification, and it’s rumored there might be another one. Actually, there have been several thousand more. Unfortunately, however, about two thirds of those who have entered the program have since dropped out. I suspect it’s that nasty lack of work thing.
I’m a little surprised that it took government intervention to mandate a program to help homeowners in trouble. It would seem logical that the lenders, usually banks, would have tried to help the situation on their own, given the likelihood of several million loans going bad and several million unhappy borrowers. Several million potential bank credit card users, I might add. Speaking of credit cards – but don’t get me started; that’s a story for another time.
Wouldn’t it seem that the financial ramifications of all these “underperforming loans” would suggest that the lenders try some creative solutions other than foreclosure? What about the inevitable PR disaster? Then again, if my early Sunday School training doesn’t fail me, the money lenders have had a PR problem for some time. I guess 2000 years haven’t been sufficient time to improve the situation.
In any case, we have a situation with millions of people losing their homes, the government trying to help, with limited success, and the banks trying, incredibly, to speed up the foreclosure process, so more homes can be sold at a loss or sit and deteriorate, even sooner.
Well it turns out, they are doing something, something being spelled H-A-M-P, which stands for Home Affordable Modification Program. The program is designed to reduce the mortgage payment of homeowners unable to make their present payment due to a significant reduction in income. It seems that losing one’s job can result in a significant reduction in income. Who knew?
The program may be working. In fact, I personally know of someone who received a HAMP modification, and it’s rumored there might be another one. Actually, there have been several thousand more. Unfortunately, however, about two thirds of those who have entered the program have since dropped out. I suspect it’s that nasty lack of work thing.
I’m a little surprised that it took government intervention to mandate a program to help homeowners in trouble. It would seem logical that the lenders, usually banks, would have tried to help the situation on their own, given the likelihood of several million loans going bad and several million unhappy borrowers. Several million potential bank credit card users, I might add. Speaking of credit cards – but don’t get me started; that’s a story for another time.
Wouldn’t it seem that the financial ramifications of all these “underperforming loans” would suggest that the lenders try some creative solutions other than foreclosure? What about the inevitable PR disaster? Then again, if my early Sunday School training doesn’t fail me, the money lenders have had a PR problem for some time. I guess 2000 years haven’t been sufficient time to improve the situation.
In any case, we have a situation with millions of people losing their homes, the government trying to help, with limited success, and the banks trying, incredibly, to speed up the foreclosure process, so more homes can be sold at a loss or sit and deteriorate, even sooner.
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