More Reasons I left this Site

2007-03-28

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Shits & Giggles III

2007-03-28

Still doing some house cleaning, but thought some of you would enjoy this email fwd.

 

 

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P.S

2007-03-16

Thank you all for your kind comments. I also fixed the link in the last post for my blogspot.

Scribblers made mention that this is still in its Beta stage. There are features here I like and I know it is solitary over on blogspot and they have their problems too. If anyone really cares I'll give you my myspace page, where I originally blogged and well..alot more of me is there, so I will go back to my original intent of posting on both spots. 

http://www.myspace.com/adrianlondon1

Thats just my cool psuedonym I chose for my serious writing. I also came thiiiiissss close to winning a novel competition last month, they want me to submit again.  We'll see. 

 

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So Long- Farewell

2007-03-16

Auf weidersen, etc...

Local girl is rolling up her icons, and going back to blogger.com

I've joined this site in January with high hopes thinking it was a site for serious blogs/writing. Not that I haven't enjoyed meeting some of you fine folks but I find that the quality of posts on here, leaves a lot to be desired and its turned into a numbers game. I almost wish they would take away the Top 100, maybe that would weed out the wanna-be's. I'm also not the type of person who is going to monitor photos or anything I have to say because children maybe on here. Well, I blame the parents for that. When you are online, you have the world at your fingertips. It's a blessing and a curse, depending on your view.

I'll leave my posts up for a while as I transition back over to my other spots, but I will be posting new blogs in a day or so, just moving stuff off of here..other there.

Be Good.

Your Witqueen

For those of you who may still want to read my posts the link is this

http://witqueen.blogspot.com

 

 

 

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EBAY and the IRS

2007-03-16

A U.S. congressional committee is looking at unreported income, and online sales are a major concern. EBay sales in 2006 were over $25 billion and there is no way to know how many sellers pay taxes on their online earnings. Since most taxes are paid on income reported to the IRS, like the interest on a savings account or stock dividends or salaries, Congress wants to find a reporting system for online sales. Tax laws now apply to brokers, but eBay and auction sites are not, by current definition, "brokers." That may change and eBay and others may have to report sales information so the IRS can collect taxes. ( As reported by Kovels.com)

Now this is just my opinion and argument against the IRS taxing this stream of income and the can of worms that could happen in this ridiculous cash strapped nation.

Unless you are a manufacturer, using EBAY as a source for selling and distributing NEW products, the tax has already been paid on items bought and sold on Ebay. Seriously I would love to apply that logic to everything, as the goverment continues to tax every item every time it changes hands. So as the value of said item depreciates, the government still gets residual income over the life of said item. Where else does that happen in life? I think the only one who should pay taxes are the owners of the site, and their taxable income is only for the fees that are charged by Ebay for listing your items.

What's next if they pass this law? You're having a yard sale at your house, and the Gman shows up at the end of the day for their cut out of your paltry sum. You know that you are selling things at a loss, just to get them out of your house, attic, garage. You already paid the tax when you purchased these items at the store.

I realize it takes money to run a nation. But they are running out of things to tax, and the people of this country, regardless of your income, are strapped for cash. Everything is relative to your income, and people have to stop looking at the "wealthy" as the source of all evil. Good for you if you can afford to drive and maintain a luxury car and house. Good for you if you just want to hang in your mobile home and keep life simple and everyone in between, we all have expenses to deal with, everything has a cost assigned to owning property.

What we need is an overhaul of the IRS and the taxing propensity and glut of a top heavy government. What we don't need is some chucklehead looking at a website and figuring out a way for the government to get a piece of that pie. This has been an ongoing battle since Al Gore invented the internet..lol..oh that one still makes me giggle. But stick to the factors all ready determined for online sales. If you have a brick and click store the items are taxable. But unless you declare your home as your sole source of business income, items sold online should not be taxed.

 

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Something Old Something New

2007-03-15

I was taking a walk around the web tonight, for one just to stretch my mind a bit, and I came across an old site that I haven’t visited in years. It was just happenstance that I went there, following a link about Zero Tolerance for Zero Tolerance. Which I was going to post about, but honestly, we can’t live in a world of absolutes, either good or bad so I’m not going to get indignant over stupidity.  But seeing that Randy Cassingham is still delivering THIS IS TRUE after lo these many years, and remembering he was very entertaining I subscribed. Somewhere in a kitchen drawer is my Get Out of Hell Free keychain that you can still purchase here: http://www.goohf.com/ or buy the multipack cards. Amusing on a moderate level, but a fun gift for a buck, and I'm sure everyone can think of someone who could use a GOOHF card.

 Having been online for many years, I remember the internet before a GUI or for those of you not up on your jargon, it means Graphical User Interface. Which means you had a blinking curser, either green or gold, depending on your monitor and you actually typed commands. The first commercial account I subscribed to was Prodigy. I think I remember my logon identity; UXPT228. No clever names in 1993, though I have had my Witqueen moniker since 1994.

There were some very clever sites back then, since everything was new. One of my old favorites was a web site where you did a virtual dumpster dive, and a random picture of something heinous was shown on as a Polaroid and you emailed it to your friend with a blurb about being in the trash and how I Found The Perfect Gift For You. It was always something gross like bad Spam, a One Eyed Dolly, just silliness. But amusing in the early 90’s. Now search on the term dumpster dive and it’s a whole way of life, frugal if you own a home, low rent if you live on the streets. I looked around for it tonight, but sadly there is no trace, not even the smell of spent Spam to guide me home. Sigh.

Some sites have held on for years and glad to see that they are still free. http://www.netives.com/ was a site that I used to spend hours playing. Marbles was my favorite, as was Speed Marbles. Go ahead, this blog will still be here when you get back. Let me know your high score.

One of the oldest internet jokes out there to spawn multiple pages http://home.att.net/~cecw/lastpage.htm

Who doesn’t remember the most famous dancing baby of all? http://www.burningpixel.com/Baby/Babygif.htm

Well, I’m getting tired of memory lane, after all I can’t even begin to count the thousands of sites I’ve seen in 14 years. I’ve seen it all, heard it all and know where to find the underbelly of the web, however, I'm sparing you the link. 

But for now, I think I’ll play a little game in honor of St. Patrick’s Day and share the fun with you. Slainte! and Guid forder!

http://www.pissonaleprechaun.com/

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.Viacom v. Google Let the Games Begin

2007-03-14

I've never been blessed with my grandfathers propensity for picking stocks. Now in my own defense, my grandfather was a Professor of Economics at Penn State for 25 years. He died in 1976 and I know my grandmother lived off the interest of his investments, until her death in 1989. My father was then the beneficiary, and I assume has also been living off the inheritence since then. All I know is..I'm not in the will.

But because I enjoy Comedy Central and the occasional deal of the day on QVC, a year or two ago I bought stock in Viacom. Liberty Media Holding is the parent company and the stock rose, and split and I enjoy watching what happens in my little portfolio at days end. But as storms a brewing and we have some big contendors taking the gloves off and like a five year old I can't help chanting:

Google's gonna get it, Googles gonna get it...

The news is, Viacom is suing Google for $1 billion in damages over these unauthorized clips and the use of its programming online. Viacom also seeks an injunction to prevent future and further violations .

Viacom asked Google to remove 100,000 clips uploaded to Youtube that break copy write infringement. ( See OP, you think my blogs don't link together..trust me they do ;-) Not only haven't the removed them, the number has now grown to 160,000. I believe Google's argument is that the posts go up faster then they can take them down. The reality is, anyone with half a brain can upload content on Youtube. The harm is, before you ask, is one..the copywrite infringement, and two..the royalties that don't get paid to the performers. Actors on the whole, do rely on residual income on repeats for a set period of time, and they really make out if shows go into syndication. Many a lawsuit was fought and lost back in the day of kerosene tv's, because the studios didn't offer residuals past a certain time frame. I think the Skipper and Lil Buddy got screwed royaly once off the island, and it wasn't by Ginger and Maryann.

Googles business model has always been a door buster. Give the service away for free and annoy the crap out of you with advertising. Look to your right as you post your next blog. Look at the ads by Google. Its about 10 cents per click based on the number of ad words you link. Advertising can get pretty expensive considering the medium of pay per click.

But in this case it seems like justice will prevail as Googles stock fell today over 2% and Viacom shares ended up at 40.03. 

That puts me in a small minority of happy people. Apparently there is a huge backlash and boycott being demanded because the gravy train is over, and more giants are going to jump on this bandwagon. You see, the tubester does filter content that is deemed innapropriate, so they have the ability to step it up a notch and look for licensing. I honestly don't know why Viacom is made out to be the bad guy, when its the end users once again, pirating content. No wonder the proliferation overseas regarding pirating is met with a blank stare and half a chuckle. At least the Chinese go for quality assurance, at least to get it packaged and out the door. Have you seen the crap uploaded to Youtube? I swear half of them are created by some shlub standing in front of the tv with the record button on. I'ts not good.

Well, I'll never retire on my stock picks, because 5 years ago I had my Homer Simpson portfolio as I liked to call it. Beer and donuts. It went pretty well too, until that damn Atkins diet became a fad and so went my Krispy Kreme stock right to my proverbial ass. I bought it at 16, watched it go to 72, split, and finally crash and burn at 8.00 when I finally sold it. The one time I attempted to invest in the Pacific Rim, and I kid you not, the next day after the company had my funds, I caused the Kobe earthquake. Then again, that could have been a little divine retribution on the universes part, the way nature keeps herself balanced. This truly is a bigger issue then I am detailing here. But just think if you were paid for your blogs here on Shoutpost, and some whank decided to copy your blog and toss it out there in the public domain. Think of the revenue lost, and how indignent you would feel. Now extrapolate that out for music, tv clips, whatever it is, you can find it online..but not on ebay.

Just think about it next time before you hit [ Download]

 

 

 

 

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Why The Chinese Ignore Nipples

2007-03-14

Well, NIPLECC to be honest. I just think that when making a new agency to protect Intellectual Property, sound it out first.

However, the reality is, the billions of dollars lost to not just the auto, music, and film industry, and hitting Bill Gates in his wallet, but it affects small business owners too.

I called a friend of mine the other night to see how he was doing. He has a patent or two out there on ink that he markets and sells worldwide. There have not been many changes to inks in the past thousand years, until he came along and invented one with properties that make it foolproof and the ink actually bonds to paper therefore destroying the ability for forgery. It really is quite remarkable and he has developed other inks that won’t freeze, his Polar line, and his ink has gotten enough attention to have caught the eye of Modern Marvels. Not a bad day in the sun when you are still 32.

So as I said hello to him on the phone and asked how he was I was surprised to hear him say, “There is a warrant out for my arrest.”

At first, I didn’t believe him, knowing the hours that he works, and he generally stays inside. I asked him what happened and then he clarified.

Seems he pissed off the Chinese government, and will continue to do so. He feels he is in good company as the Chinese also issued warrants back in the day to John Wayne and Ronald Reagan. He did ask that they send it through the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and the NY Times will do a piece on it.

You may wonder what a small business in our country could do to piss off a whole country. Simple and genius enough in my humble opinion. He included anti communistic statements as well as FREE TIBET on the hand made labels, essentially rendering the Chinese unable to pirate his ink for resale. The market that buys his ink for use, also made a market to collect the labels as well. My friend is a staunch American, where every component he uses to make the ink as well as the bottle only come from American companies. He keeps the business on the home front, but distributes worldwide.

He explained to me that the Chinese use patents as essentially a recipe for piracy. They don’t respect intellectual property at all. Our government knows this and formed NIPLECC in a half ass attempt at protecting its people and my guess taxable revenue, otherwise there wouldn’t be any motivation to help John Q.Public. Another factor though, is the public welfare and safety of US citizens, because not only is piracy so rampant, but pharmaceuticals and food items are pirated as well.

As I sat in my chair this evening at the hair salon, the subject on everyone’s lips after the usual course of events, was the fake fur may not be fake fur but dog fur coming out of China. Well, they did have that little rabies problem over there and the government killed 50,000 dogs to alleviate the problem. Though it would have made more sense to me to pirate a rabies vaccine and inoculate, but that would not have been profitable.

The other big ticket item pirated right now is furniture. I had another friend who was shopping for some the other week or so ago in a store, but I won’t mention names. However, the evening news was on and as the sales rep tried to sell my friend some furniture. As he falsely stated how the Chinese really made a good quality product, the local news team was reporting how poorly constructed these knock offs are, and my friend told the clerk to hush for a moment as he followed the news story. With a laugh, and a “Guess you picked the wrong time to be watching TV” statement he left the store, slightly more educated and off to find some quality goods not Made in China.

Now our government has identified the top three countries between 1994 and 2004 for violation of patents, copy writes and trademarks for US intellectual property. They are China, Paraguay, and the Ukraine. There have been trade sanctions imposed against the Ukraine for failure to comply with our effort to reduce piracy. The whole testimony can be found here, it’s a short read but interesting to say the least. http://www.gao.gov/new.items/d041093t.pdf.

Piracy is affecting all aspects of goods up to and including parts manufactured for your vehicle. Sure there always has been a little something called Planned Obsolescence that exists to make the consumer want the better, faster, more stylish. Do the manufacturers have the capability of designing parts for vehicles that could last 20 years? Sure they do, but it isn’t profitable, and you take your car in to have it serviced and replace what is needed. But now add pirated parts that have no defining value placed on the consumer, and now your car is nickel and quartering(inflation) you to death, if it doesn’t cause an accident and your death first. There is also the hidden cost of what you could have spent your money on, if you did not have to keep replacing the same parts every few months, instead of every 20,000 miles or so.

Sure everyone loves a good deal and beef with broccoli. But ask yourself how much money are you really saving before you shell out money on disposable goods. You are the last line of defense against piracy.

If you have an interest in fountain pens and the ink that is forgery proof, go here. www.noodlersink.com The Bulletproof inks withstand the test of time and he has a challenge with a thousand dollar reward if you can modify a document, but read about it first, he may have upt the ante.

To see how we aren’t winning the war on another front http://usinfo.state.gov/ei/Archive/2004/Sep/23-463846.html

Information on the slaying of dogs and boycotting China can be found here:http://www.byteland.org/boycottchina/luckydog.html

To view the Chinese Nipple and god knows why she isn’t arrested go here http://www.bastardly.com/archives/2005/02/15/nipple-alert-is-bai-ling-the-chinese-paris-hilton/

Now I'm going to try to go back to sleep, I thing the MSG is keeping me up.

 

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Shits & Giggles II

2007-03-11

A very loud, unattractive, mean woman walked into Wal-Mart with her two kids, yelling obscenities at them all the way through the entrance. The Wal-Mart Greeter says "Good morning, and welcome to Wal-Mart. Nice children you have there. Are they twins?" The ugly woman stopped yelling long enough to say, "Hell no they ain't! Oldest one's 9 and the other one's 7. Why the hell would you think they're twins? Are you blind, or just stupid?
"I'm neither blind nor stupid", replied the greeter. "I just couldn't believe you got laid twice."

****************************************************************************************************

A guy walks into a bar and sits down next to a beautiful woman. They start talking, and after a few cocktails, she invites him back to her place for sex. He responds with an enthusiastic yes, and they are soon on their way.

After they arrive at her place, things heat up fast and she suggests a 69.

He responds with, "You know, I don't get out very much and I'm not totally hip to some of the new lingo."

"Oh, that's okay. Just follow my lead," she says.

Within a few minutes he gets the idea and things are going nicely, until she farts. "What the hell was that?" he asks, alarmed.

"Oh, sorry," she giggles. Not about to stop over such a minor detail, he resumes his activities. Thoroughly enjoying himself, he is completely disgusted when she cracks another one, even worse than the first.

"This is ridiculous. I have to go," he says, looking for his clothes. "What's the matter? Aren't you having fun?" she exclaims.

He pauses, and then replies, "Well, if you think I am sticking around for another 67 of those, you have another thing coming."

******************************************************************************************

A guy is driving around the back woods of Tennessee and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: "Talking Dog For Sale." He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.


The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.

"You talk?" he asks.

"Yep," the Lab replies.

After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says

"So, what's your story?"

The Lab looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when I

was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA.

In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting

in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog

would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies for eight

years running." "But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew

I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up

for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near

suspicious characters and listening in."

"I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.

I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired."

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

"Ten dollars," the guy says.

"Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?"

"Because he's a liar. He never did any of that shit. "

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Six Flags Over Dukes Car Wash

2007-03-11

I guess in the great scope of things, if one was going to assign personification to inanimate objects, the carwash would be the amusment park for our cars. If you think about it..you wait in line, pay admission, roll onto the tracks and wait for the fun to begin. Then you're finished off with a nice hot bath, and a rub down with a soft cloth.

So today, because it hit a mean 51 degrees, and my convertible is just-plain-filthy from all the road salt and crap over the last month or so, I decided to go to the carwash. I only will go to Dukes, as it is complete power washing, nothing to screw up the finish. I hate those swirly lines from "brushless" car washes.

My first attempt driving there, netted a big fat nothing..the cars were lined up out to the street. So I kept heading west, and debated stopping at the adult store for my own personal little restock of 6 Flags Over My Bedroom, but as a friend pointed out..just how many toys did I need? Hmmph. So instead I swooped around and headed back up the highway.

This time, there was room for my car so I pulled in and prepared for the wait. There was at least 15 cars in front of me, so I ran my mouth on the phone and sang along to my Cd's with the window down...nope don't care who hears me. Sometimes when I'm out with the gf's we may pull beside cars in traffic, roof down, and serenade the cars around us. Fortunately..we can sing.

So I am waiting at least 20 minutes, and decided that since my car was so dirty, I better not put the clear coat on it, since I don't want to seal any grime in, I need at least two washes before I do that. So I went with the cheap $11.00 job.

It's never a good feeling when the attendant takes your debit card...then runs off with it. Hey...I saw him disappear then reappear several minutes later with fresh rolls of tape. Whew. I kidded with him about it, signed the receipt and with great anticipation waited my turn. I watched the attendants pre-wash the car in front of me, and I was noticing they were involved in a conversation, but how hard is it to rinse a car? They motioned me forward, still blah blah blahing, and as many times as I've been there, they still think they have to tell a woman..Neutral, no brakes, which I was already doing..the tracks started to roll, then I heard the guy on my left, behind me now yell OH MY GOD..and I'm looking around for the problem.

So I hit the first part of the ride..no water..Ok, I figure, they just forgot to key in the program. Maybe the little dude forgot when he changed the tape, but all you have to do is press a button. By this time my car is still rolling along the ride -whooohoo- following the car ahead of me which is getting the works. Then my car approaches and ..nothing. This continues through every station, and not that my car isn't appreciating the ride..but C'mon - twenty minutes in line..for nothing?

By the time I reached the end of the line, I'm looking in my rearview and notice, not one car is behind me. Uh oh. Approaching from the front is management. I've powered down my window and turned off my music, because surely that can't be the problem. It's almost the same feeling you get when Officer Friendly is approaching. You know you haven't done anything wrong..but..I'm making a joke about the lack of service and the Manager says "Back Up."

I repeated what he said, "back up?"

"Unless you feel like going around again and waiting, back up."

"Alrighty then."

So now my car is going in reverse on the tracks, like you're going backward through one of those rollercoasters. The tracks aren't really meant to go in reverse, and I hear another attendant yell to the other guy, " Yeah I saw that , I was going to ask her to put her brakes on and pop the roller back on the tracks."

I beg your pardon? You wanted me to use my 2007 Spyder Convertible as a power tool to fix and jump your rollers back in track? I think not.

So anyway, I'm all the way back at the beginning of the "ride" and they are extra careful to hose off my car again, and I'm debating throwing another 5 dollars at them for the clear coat, but decide against it. Now I just want out of there. So my little car finally gets its ride and wash, and as I make it to the end, they are waiting with towels in hand.

They take the time to dry my car, but as with any convertible they leak. So I'm cracking up as the guy keeps trying to dry my window, not realizing its inside. I waved him off and and laughed and reminded myself why I wait so long between car washes. But at least this one was worth the wait, as I got to go through twice.

Looking at the NOAA.gov I see its going to rain Tuesday.

Figures.

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For the Freshmaker

2007-03-10

Hope you are feeling better. I saw this and thought of you.

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Chicken Little and the Ice Caps are Melting

2007-03-10

We have been debating global warming for a while, as in essence while the Al Gore’s can make a movie with the worst song to win an Oscar, this flag waving and alarmist work is just another way for Hollywood to ride the “We Care But What Color Ribbon Should We Wear” platform.

To really understand the issue, it is not about whether you believe it’s happening, but knowing how greenhouse gases affect the world.

The greenhouse effect defined is this: The process in which the emission of infrared radiation by an atmosphere warms a planet's surface. Earth, Venus and Mars all have the greenhouse effect.

If we didn’t have this effect the surface of the earth would be 30 degrees Celsius cooler, or for those of you who need the translation 86 degrees Fahrenheit cooler than it is. Now the argument is with human consumption of fossil fuels we have raised the temperature of the planet and if we continue on the course we are the planet will be x amount of degrees hotter in 2089. Nothing for nothing and as my friend likes to point out, we can’t predict weather correctly eight days out, much less the temperature of earth in 80 years.

The government however urges us to cut down on our use of fossil fuels, recycle, and I don’t know what we are going to do about the flatulence problem with our cattle. Lord knows the methane produced is making that hole in the ozone exponentially bigger as the 1.2 billion cows have increased atmospheric methane emissions (but truly only as belches, not moon burps) at the rate of one percent a year. Horrors! Someone call India and have them revisit that Sacred Cow issue.

The real problem with so called Global Warming, is what we are going to do about it on an individual level. The president argued that the mandatory limits under the international accord would have resulted in billions of dollars in industry losses and the elimination of nearly 5 million U.S. jobs. While acknowledging the serious threat of global warming, he insisted that the government could do more by spending billions more on research, new technology and tax incentives to promote voluntary reductions than to attempt to impose mandatory targets.

“As president of the United States, charged with safeguarding the welfare of the American people and American workers, I will not commit our nation to an unsound international treaty that will throw millions of our citizens out of work,” Bush declared in a speech delivered at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in suburban Washington.

The president’s plan in effect would preserve the status quo, allowing the United States to continue emitting carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases at roughly the rate it has done for the past decade, but with the promise of $4.6 billion of incentives and tax credits over the next five years for research and to encourage voluntary reductions by utilities and manufacturers.

Ok, so five years has passed since that statement. Today, the EU has announced that 27 countries vowed to reduce emissions to 1990 levels using renewable energy such as solar, wind, and water, but won’t recognize nuclear energy. Personally, nuclear energy is the way to go and there will be a day when smaller nuclear generators will be the main source of household power.

Other EU countries not as wealthy argue they can’t go to those sources and have to stick with fossil fuels such as coal and oil, which are higher pollutants. They suggested a burden-sharing system whereby nations with more advanced alternative energy programs would go beyond the 20 percent threshold, while others were given more time to hit the target.

In June another meeting will be held for the top eight industrialized nations to agree to deep emission cuts. They are Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Britain, the United States and Russia.

How are these cuts going to be monitored without involving federal regulations, which leads to more government spending? Who ends up paying for it in the end? Hold up a mirror and laugh at the guilty party. The taxpayers. It has already been stated as part of the plan for businesses to cut emissions they will be given tax credits. Once again, the businesses get the cut, the consumers pay out the ass to pay for it. Look at how many of your bills you are paying right now include a “fuel surcharge.” You get a double whammy as the cost of the goods have increased from the manufacturer, then to get the product to your store or door fuel surcharges are being imposed. Now if regulations go into effect, they have to be monitored and reported. Read that as new taxation.

Take for example recycling. As a business we are required by the township our office building resides to have a separate recycling container for cardboard, office paper etc. We even have the separate blue waste containers under our desks. The first year it was mandated we complied and at the end of the year, I receive a letter from the township asking how much paper we placed in the bin in gross tonnage. My thought would be the trash hauler should know that info, as it was never stated we would have to account for what we threw out. So I called the hauler, to get a number that I should place on this report. What it boiled down to in the end is the townships get funding from the government for complying. Is that funding divided back to the individuals who complied? Do you get a letter at the end of the year at your house, requesting the gross tonnage of recycling you performed so you get a tax cut on your 1040? Of course not. Well maybe in eighty years your descendents will get thirty dollars on their refund for a three year look back period, just like our little friend the Federal telephone excise tax refund this year.

Maybe it’s just my perception, but my guess is that back in the beginning of time and primordial soup, this was one hot planet. Life forms began as scientists are now discovering far below earths surface are bacteria and such from whence all life flows. We already know there have been four major periods of glaciations in the Earth's past, and we still in one. An “ice age” is a period of long-term reduction in the temperature of Earth's climate, resulting in an expansion of the continental ice sheets, polar ice sheets, and mountain glaciers (glaciation).

There are multiple factors that contribute to the climate of this planet that are far beyond our control. Position of the continents, variations in earths orbit, variations in the sun’s output, vulcanism and Earths albedo, which is the ratio of the electromagnetic radiation, which either absorbs or reflects the suns energy.

I’m not saying we aren’t contributing to an increase in greenhouse gases, but it isn’t the only cause of our planets ever changing environment. What I am saying is trying to impose federal mandates to control it is just another ruse to increase government spending and taxation. Cut the emissions for health reasons, and place the onus on businesses to comply without any tax breaks. But let’s stop labeling it Global Warming.

THE KYOTO PROTOCOL AS OF 2006- PACT ENDS 2012

 

 

 

 

 

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Forever Young

2007-03-08

Probably one of my favorite Mel Gibson movies. Premise is simple enough, as listed on the IMDB; A 1939 test pilot asks his best friend to use him as a guinea pig for a cryogenics experiment. Daniel McCormick wants to be frozen for a year so that he doesn't have to watch his love lying in a coma. The next thing Daniel knows is that he's been awoken in 1992.

I think we all remember what happens as Daniel starts to age, and looks for his friend and realizes Helen still lives. The one part they could have expanded on more as he spends the night in the tree house, browsing history, is the emotional impact trying to grasp what happened in the world over fifty years. This came to mind because as I heard on the news tonight that a woman has now awakened from a coma after six years. Curious about how it would feel, I looked at what was going on six years ago. It does not seem that long ago, but historically this is what was happening.

I was going to do a then and now, but since life is about perception and how it affects us, you can formulate your own opinion, knowing what has transpired from then until today. These are just top stories culled from the headlines.

In the news 2001:

January- George W. Bush is sworn in as the 43rd President of the United States.

February-NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt is killed instantly in a crash on the last lap of the Daytona 500

March-The Russian space station Mir re-enters the atmosphere near Nadi, Fiji, and falls into the Pacific Ocean.

April- Former Federal Republic of Yugoslavia President Slobodan Milošević surrenders to police Special Forces, to be tried on charges of war crimes.

May-Washington, DC police declare Chandra Levy missing (her remains are discovered a year later).

June-Andrea Yates drowns her children in a bathtub and confesses to her crime. She is sentenced to life in prison.

July- I celebrated my 38^th birthday. (Ok, Ok, that wasn’t newsworthy)

August-A Cessna 402 aircraft carrying 9 people, including R&B singer Aaliyah, crashes in the Bahamas, killing all aboard.

September-Almost 3,000 are killed in the terrorist attack at the World Trade Center in New York City, The Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, and in rural Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

October-Barry Bonds of the San Francisco Giants breaks the single season home run record with his 71st and 72nd home runs of the year. Both are off Chan Ho Park of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

November- Microsoft releases Windows XP and releases the Xbox.

December-Enron files for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection 5 days after Dynegy cancels a US$8.4 billion buyout bid. At the time, this is the largest bankruptcy in U.S. history.

The most watched shows were (in no particular order)

Everybody Loves Raymond

The West Wing

Law & Order

Survivor: Africa

CSI

Will & Grace

ER

Most watched show of the year: FRIENDS

Musically we were still challenged in my humble opinion.

Linkin Park - Hybrid Theory

Shaggy - Hotshot

Backstreet Boys - Black & Blue

Enya - A Day Without Rain

Janet Jackson - All For You (And we’re not talking nipple yet Ms. Wardrobe Malfunction)

Alicia Keys - Songs in A Minor

Destiny's Child - Survivor

Creed - Weathered

Aaliyah - Aaliyah

Film

1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

2. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

3. Monsters, Inc.

4. Shrek

5. Ocean's Eleven

6. Pearl Harbor

7. The Mummy Returns

8. Jurassic Park III

9. Planet of the Apes

10. Hannibal

So in essence, life does go on, and as the news story played on, this woman has come out of this coma four times in the past six years, but never to this degree where she is cognizant of questions her mother asks her. There is a possibility that she could slip back into her coma, maybe she will, depending on what she remembers as of November of 2001 when she first slipped into her coma.

As it is said the more times change the more things stay the same. It shouldn’t be that way. It is up to us to be the change the way we want the world to be.

I would hate to think if a fighter pilot is cryogenically frozen in 2009, he wakes up in 2062, and as he reviews history on his virtual reality contact lenses, the following has transpired. We are still fighting the terrorists, economically the cost of housing is so high, and the only way to afford one is to get a mortgage for your baby as a shower gift. Gas and oil prices are pennies as we were able to utilize Solar energy and that whole PECO Wind thing really took off as we figured out a way to use Global Warming to our advantage, but from a fashion standpoint we all have to wear Teflon. Microsoft has finally fixed all the bugs in Windows M.E just to prove they could but since the world runs strictly on a PC MAC Unix conglomerate, it is a moot point. On television, everything is still in syndication except maybe Survivor: Jupiter, so he can catch up on his own, and looking in the theaters, everything is or was a sequel, spare us from another Jurassic Park XXV. Music, hmmm I'm thinking we actually will have to turn on the silence.

I hope the next fifty years turns out better, I’ll be 93 so I’ll check back on this post and see how many I got right.

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Funniest Email Fwd This Week

2007-03-07

For all you parents.....and people who love to laugh
...... this is one for the fridge !!!! ???

"This is my kindergartner's artistic rendering of a pair of scissors. I wonder what his teacher thought. And I am so darned proud of myself - I allowed myself just a small smirk when I saw it. I waited until he was out of the room before I started to cry from laughing so hard."

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Teacher Arrested

2007-03-07

At New York's Kennedy airport today, an individual, later discovered to be a public school teacher, was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a setsquare, a slide rule, and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement. He is being charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction.

"Al-gebra is a fearsome cult, "Gonzales said. They desire average solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in a search of absolute value.

They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as unknowns, but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, "There are 3 sides to every triangle."

When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes."

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Full Circle

2007-03-06

If anyone read my last post, they may understand how difficult today is for me. Normally I am the last person to share my problems with the world, as I am the one people come to in life, and at work to resolve theirs.

But at 4:30 today, I am meeting with a bankruptcy lawyer. I've come to terms with it, and look at it now as a business decision. Which chapter it ends up being is yet to be determined, my thought was 13 which is a reorg and you get to keep your house. Chapter 7 is the big one, everything is dismissed but your assets are disolved. Which would make sense, because essentially over the last two years, and a series of unfortunate events, an unscrupulous subcontractor, predatory credit card companies I find myself looking around my house, knowing I will probably have to sell it. I've had to put a ton of money into it. I knew when I bought it, I had a home inspection done. Plus it is 160 years old, and the last owners were here for 33 years, and tried to convince me it was maintenance free. Yeah, so I fixed all that, from the heating, electric, water- that was the first 12,000.00. Cosmetically I was happy with the wallpaper and paint..but the kitchen? If you were over 5'8 you would hit your head on the ceiling fixture. It was suggested to find out what was underneath the ceiling, and I agreed it would be a good idea. Because I trust this person, who has done the work in my last home also, she recommended her nephew who was a contractor to do the job. I called him to come out and give me an estimate. He showed up, took a look around, figured it was a weeks worth of work and his rate was $300.00 per day. I work for homebuilders. I know what pricing is, and essentially I figured 1500.00 wasn't a bad bid considering the scope of work. So I agreed on a start date. That got delayed but no big deal, he eventually showed up one day in May.

Now I am a trusting soul, and when it comes to subs, etc..I leave my house open, while I am at work and my cell phone numbers.

So the job starts and he drills carefully first through to see what he can see, before he starts tearing out. Turns out there was a total of 4 ceilings on this part of my house, with a huge beam that runs across it. You would think the multiple ceilings rested on this for support but no. Once all the ceilings were removed, I had a celing that sloped from 12' at the top above the door frame as you enter the kitchen, down to about 6.5 feet above the windows on the other side. But it opened up the space. I still had to decide what to put up there, and as I always wanted a tin ceiling I ordered the panels from the original American Tin Ceiling which has been in business for about 140 years.

Now, what happens after this, in hindsite, was the start of my struggle with my finances. He still had cleanup to do, while I waited for the ceiling tiles to get delivered. Then the phone calls started while I was at work. The walls of my house our 20" thick stone. There was concern that the cabinets were bad, then the walls, and I would come home every day to a new problem. I'll fast forward this for you, what was supposed to be a week job and 1500.00 turned into a 5 month job, a gutted kitchen down to the earth, and 50,000.00 I didn't have. I refinanced twice, took out a loan to pay him at 25% interest, and used two Christmas bonuses to pay some debt off or down. I also had to hire electricians, plumbers, get cabinetry and Home Depot involved. But I still trusted him, even though some days I couldn't tell what got done, so I kept my own records on a calendar. Eventually that job was finished, and I only had a few things left around the house that could wait, til I was in a better finacial position.

Two days after he left I came down the stairs and saw a portion of my ceiling on the floor. I called him back and asked him to help. My window AC unit in my bedroom upstairs wasn't tilted the right way and water found its way down through the wood sill, the walls and left a hole. He pretty much patched it with 5 lbs of joint compound, let it dry and while I knew I had already paid once to have the LR painted it needed it again, since it came down the wall. So I asked that he do that and replace a rotted post outside on my porch. If you take a moment to look at my house, you can see the brackets that give it its charm. All but two are gone, as he decided to take a hammer to them and busted them into pieces without my consent. He thought he was going to fix the post one way, had my order 4 posts, gave me the measurements, and I had to spend an extra 500 on delivery since he couldn't pick them up. Then he measured wrong. So I had to buy 4 more posts that were longer. Now I'm pissed but I just want the job done. He started painting once the joint compound had dried and it took him about two days in his time to replace the posts. I heard later from his aunt that he kept saying I owed him for 21 days of work and I came home one day to his bill of $6300.00. I called him and asked what the bill was for, and show me 168 hours worth of work for painting a living room and the repair, and replacing a post. His reply was...I kid you not, " I never said I worked 8 hours a day. If I have to come to your house for half an hour, you get charged a full day, because I can't work for anyone else that day."

Suffice it to say, I told him to kiss my ass and I paid him 3000, which I thought was more then fair for the work done, and the fact it will cost me well over a thousand dollars to try and replace the brackets that were hand made on my house. I know, I've priced it out. Nothing that is made these days has the same dimensions or quality, and has to be made by a carpenter. I was also heart sick, knowing how many times I came home during the kitchen that this guy just needed a job and worked me over. I paid him roughly 15,000 for his labor, and on the whole the kitchen was about 46,000.00.

So I am mortgaged to the hilt, the bills keep piling up, but I was falling further behind. The pressure got to me, and as seen on Oprah, she was touting CreditSolutions.com one of those so called credit counselors, so I gave them a call. They promised and put in writing they would take my 40k in debt negotiate it down to 16k and their cut was 15% of the negotiated balance. Which they take the first three months and you give them a limited power of attorney to act on your behalf. Then they tell you how much to save so you can pay your debt. According to their plan, my payments to the companies would start March of 2008. They also claim they let your accounts age, to give them the upper hand and negotiating in their court. I told them, I didn't need them to do that, please negotiate right away. I am the kind of person who pays my credit cards weekly, so I am always paying more then the minimum amount due. Plus they were charging me a hefty sum, over 6000.00 for this, and quite frankly, as the payments came out monthly of my bank, and the phone calls continued from creditors, I got more and more upset. I called, I put in writing, I wanted to see the agreement that the negotiations were accepted. After all, its what they based their fee on. After three months of this crap,and to find out the only thing that had been done was 1 fax sent to each credit card company, with my POA and they had taken over 1800 from my account, I cancelled them in January, and they won't return my money. Now I have to file a complaint with the Attorney Generals Office, but my credit is shot to hell as the accounts aged over 120 days, and the credit bureaus have been reported as closed and charged off.

The last dominoe to fall in this little chain of events was my Christmas Bonus. The last thing I was counting on and let me tell you, I'm fortunate that its never been a small amount. I would make more in a bonus then some people make in a year. Did you remember I worked for home builders, and where is our economy? Suffice it to say, I got less then one fourth of my bonus last year, and that was the final nail in the coffin.

Which brings me to today. Bankruptcy lasts 10 years on your report, but in lieu of a miracle, I don't have any other recourse. I know that even if I lose everything, I don't lose who I am, and as beautiful of a home I have made this, I can recreate it somewhere else. I've had nothing before, worked my ass off for everything I have, and I may lose it again. Well, I'm always up for another adventure and I've always said, all I need is my cat and my laptop. Its' kind of freeing in a way, letting it all go, knowing I can rebuild it will just be a little harder. I think the universe has other plans for me, and maybe my load needs to be lightened so its easier to move.

But please if you do find yourself in the same position, avoid Credit Solutions or anyone of these credit counselors who are for profit. Also bear in mind, that the creditors have the right to send you a 1099 for the charged off portion, as the IRS now looks at that as income and taxes are owed.  As for my subcontractor? Well, suffice it to say the IRS will catch up with him eventually, as I swing a whistle from my fingers. He hasn't filed taxes in over 20 years. My friends daughter has a boyfriend who always wanted first shot at buying my house, if it ever goes on the market.

Life always works out the way its supposed to, based on our actions. I just know I'm not going to blame anyone else but myself for this predicament, and as much as I tried to think outside the box with my online fundraiser..(oh I thought of it all), sometime you have to lose everything to find yourself, and realize once you hit bottom the only way to go is back up.

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Sense of Life

2007-03-05

Six Years Later

 

One thing I like about writing, whatever format I choose, is reading the final document, and knowing you can easily go back and fix whatever errors you find. Cut, copy, paste, delete, doesn’t matter. A few keystrokes and your work can be perfect. If you expect me to boil this down to a life lesson here, I won’t. We already know to learn from our mistakes, it’s applying the lesson that is hard.

I was in my office today, looking for some earlier writing I had done, and hoping to find the diskette it was on. I had the hard copy in my hand, but because of the subject matter I wasn’t going to read it again, until I was in the comfort of my room, and mentally prepared to critique it. I had promised a new friend to share this with him, but I wanted to be certain that it was cohesive enough to post.

I’ll give it a B minus. I’ve reworked the following, as six years have passed and though the remaining story is true as it unfolds, I am only correcting it to make it a better read. Eventually I may write my life story, this is just a chapter torn from the past. The timeline is December 2001 as written.

I hate early morning phone calls. My friends know this and make it a point that if anything needs to be said, they have the decency to wait to give me until at least 11:00 a.m.

So when my phone rang on a cold Sunday morning, I turned my head to see the time, 8:15 a.m. Instinctively, I knew when I answered the phone it would be news that someone had died. I reached over to grasp the receiver and I felt my heart clench as I heard my sister’s voice. Please don’t let it be one of the kids.

“Pam? It’s Val”. She always let me know this as if I wouldn’t recognize my own sister’s voice. We didn’t speak that often, but I hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s- yet.

I tried to respond with a casualness I was not feeling. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Ashley answered the phone last night and it was Dad. He left her with a message that a relative in Florida had died. She tried to tell him that he wasn’t speaking to me, but his hearing is so far gone, he couldn’t hear her, but he said Lynn had died”.

“Lynn. Who the hell is that?” I asked.

She continued, “Well, I didn’t know what he was talking about either, so I went to bed. In the middle of the night it dawned on me, Not Lynn, Glynn. Glynn is dead”.

With those few words my world had changed and silence reigned on both ends of the phone.

“Hmm, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how I feel.”

I really didn’t know. For too long this woman had wound her selfish, evil, life into ours and it was hard to believe it was over. So easily. So quietly. Without notice. This is how it ends? The world kept moving on, my thoughts were trapped in the past. I could hear my sister saying something to me, but I really wasn’t listening. I knew we had to find out what had happened. She had absolutely no details. We hung up the phone with the intent of speaking to each other later.

I decided to email my brother who was living in Australia. I saw him three years prior in New Orleans, before that at my father’s second marriage in 1983. Before that time, I hadn’t seen him since my mother kicked him out at sixteen. I think it was over car keys. He moved in with his best friend’s family, finished high school, and joined the Navy. He was going to be a doctor until the modeling world discovered him escorting Miss America contestants in Hawaii. He became quite wealthy, lived all over the world, and had finally settled down and married another model and had a child. I wasn’t sure what his response would be either.

My phone was ringing again, and yes, it’s not eleven o’clock so what is going on? This time it was my girlfriend Janet. She needed to take her son to the ER and could I take care of her daughter Tori? I lived relatively close to the hospital, so I said ok, what time, and hey, Glynn’s dead. On a normal day this would have been akin to telling the start of the Methodist grape vine, but I wasn’t worried about that. I agreed to come to the ER in half an hour and pick up Tori.

I jumped in the shower and was just toweling off when I heard my doorbell ring. Now what?

I opened my door and my sister was standing there with tears in her eyes. Good god, did something else happen? I certainly wasn’t moved to cry over the news, but seeing my sister standing there, vulnerable, made my defense mechanism kick into a higher gear, if possible.

In a split second I realized what had happened. Janet must have spoken to her father or someone else in the loop. It will never cease to amaze me how fast this church can get the word around the town. Western Union should work so fast. By the time my sister had arrived at church, the good members tried to console her in the choir room. Maybe console wasn’t the right word. It’s not that they were sorry. They just hugged her and told her they remembered.

I was caught up in the aspect that my sister was standing before me, relying on me, for help. But she is my sister, and I love her, so I opened the door and invited her in to sit down. Of course, all thoughts of going to the ER had flown right out of my head.

Valerie told me that she had called our father to try and get any information he had. He had already thrown out the name of the minister who had contacted him. All he could remember was that it was a church around the area where she lived. Thanks Allen.

Since it was Sunday morning, we knew it would be too difficult to interrupt a minister, so our next course of action was to call hospitals in Florida. Someone had to have the information and the body somewhere. Right? The thought came to my mind as soon as it did my sisters. I looked online for Glynn’s phone number and called the house. We had to confirm our suspicion that it may be a ruse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, would be out of line for Glynn to get attention.

I put the speaker phone on and listened as her line rang over and over. Thankfully no one answered. We didn’t say anything, just hung up the phone, and I started a web search for listing of churches in Florida. We narrowed it down to Methodist and Presbyterian in a ten mile radius of Dunedin FL a Scottish town.

Glynn was obsessive that way. Our whole life was based on the heritage du jour. Looking back at her mental illness, and her own abandonment issues, she was trying to find who she was. That’s fine, but coming up with a family tartan, (which she made us wear in the form of a handmade kilt) and attend the DELCO Scottish Society on Friday nights was not any kids idea of fun. We did have fun at the Scottish games though, and I still enjoy a meat pie or shortbread to this day. However, when she wanted to sign us up for sword dancing she went too far and the mention of bagpipe lessons were also declined. She played those bagpipe albums over and over again. I cringed whenever we were at church and the hymn was Amazing Grace. Nothing can send a chill up my spine faster then recalling her bellowing out the tune, above the rest of the congregation, as if it was her theme song. It’s funny what you remember.

It’s funnier still what you can forget. My doorbell was ringing again. I opened the door and Tori was standing there, also in tears, with her dad. Oops, Aunt Pammy had failed in her crisis duties, but I quickly ushered her inside, and was given instructions to wash her face and take her to a birthday party at one o’clock. No problem.

My sister was back on the phone calling hospitals trying to find Mrs. Body. Seriously, how many old people could possibly live and die in Florida? I took over the phone calls and my sister called Ashley for a little babysitter backup relief.

Tori was still upset, so I abandoned the phone calls for a moment, and made her comfortable in my bedroom to catch some Sunday morning cartoons. I wasn’t ten feet down the hallway when I heard the unmistakable whir of the VCR. Not wanting to add being arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, I broke Flo Jo’s record in racing to my bedroom to yank the porn from the player. I decided not to answer any questions, changed the channel back to Nickelodeon, and tell her mom later.

I was back on the phone, and had found a very nice hospital administrator who volunteered to make the phone calls for us as we were calling long distance. This was an unexpected kindness, and I gave her my information if she found out anything.

I listened as my sister had struck gold on her second phone call to one of the churches. She was asking for a woman’s name and fresh tears were in her eyes.

“Who was that?” I asked her. I wasn’t getting this show of emotion from my sister. Then again, I had my closure with Glynn years before.

“It was a Mrs. Patterson. She told me Glynn didn’t belong to the church, but she belonged to St. Andrews Presbyterian. But she was the one who called the landlord when Glynn didn’t show up for her doctor’s appointment, it was then that they found her dead in the bedroom.”

“Hmm.” Again, I treaded lightly around my sister. She always thought I felt sorry for the old bitch. I’m not about feeling sorry; I just try to understand human nature. I didn’t want my responses setting her off, accusing me again of having selective memory about our childhood. I’m almost a year and a half younger, and what she remembers is how it involved her. I didn’t pay that much attention to the undertones and nuances surrounding every day of our lives. I was a kid, and doing what a kid does. I hated the arguments my mother had with everyone, but we were sent to bed at 7:30 every night. Once we were of school age, our time was limited in dealing with her at the breakfast and dinner table. Weekends, we signed out in the book by the door, but we better have been where we said we would be if she summoned us. As I sat there holding the phone in my hand, I realized the irony as we couldn’t locate her.

“Well, I guess the next step is to call the minister to see what is planned. Do you want to go to her funeral?”

I always said I wanted to go to make sure she was dead. I didn’t say it with malice, just fact. I didn’t want my sister to go by herself, but we did need more information.

We took a break from old memories, and decided to think things through logistically. Timing, cost, and was it worth it? Apparently Allen made his decision when he threw out the information.

My brother, Duncan, had responded to my email, asking if we could get his property back that she had stolen.

In 1983 at our fathers’ wedding, we told him he had been away too long. He wasn’t even aware of what had happened to us. I told him not to trust her. But there is something about first born sons and mothers. They always seek acceptance and approval. He tried to help her out and bought a house in Clearwater. He paid half the mortgage and she was to pay the rest and the utilities. A bank account was left for maintenance and emergencies. She repaid his kindness by subletting the house, keeping the rent, closing the bank accounts and letting the bank foreclose on his house. She moved on without a second thought. It was her due, for having married a wealthy man who kept his wealth from her.

When my grandmother died in 1989, everything was left to Allen. I loved my grandmother, but she didn’t want my mother getting her hands on any money, so the grandchildren were cut from the will. I suppose it was never updated while we were still minors. Our great aunt however, made sure my sister and I received her rings. I got the wedding set, my sister the anniversary ring.

The closest we came to living what Glynn deemed worthy of her imaginary station in life, was in Rosemont, part of the Main Line in Pennsylvania. My father had been hired as the Director of the Children’s Village (a seventies term for orphanage) and we were firmly ensconced in our quarters in the mansion. We actually had a chef who prepared our meals, our music lessons played on the grand piano in our living room. If I needed a bike to ride, I went to the building by the pool to pick one out. However, the place where I spent most of my time was the massive library. Thousands of books lined the shelves, and I would dream of having a room to rival that one. I have the books, just not the room to display them. I’ve read them all.

But as things always worked out for our family , Glynn couldn’t keep her opinions or her orifice shut. She could run your business better then the owner, and had no problem mouthing off to my father’s boss. Good bye Main Line, hello West Chester, again.

I would especially remember that house years later when I was living in a trailer in North Carolina. I certainly have run the gamut of the housing industry.

I noticed it was now getting on to noon, and it would be a good time to call the church in Dunedin. I let my sister field this phone call, as she is much better dealing with the religious type. I am not too fond of Christians, even the collared ones.

Again I was left with listening to half a conversation, so I took the time to check on the girls and get finally get dressed. I did have to get the little one to her party, and check with the rest of the family to see what was happening at the hospital.

Everything seemed fine, and I heard the conversation winding down in the other room. I still had the impression of viewing this as an outsider. I was detached, waiting to feel something, anything. But, those feelings would to come later, for now I wanted to know as Paul Harvey used to say, the rest of the story.

Valerie had a strange look on her face and I could tell it was something between anger and despair. I waited for her to start and I wasn’t surprised when she stated that the minister was shocked to hear from her, as Glynn never mentioned she had children. Ever.

Perfect.

This added a whole new dimension to our travel plans if we ever had any. Leave it to Glynn to wipe out our existence and her past. My sister went on to say that Glynn had left everything to the church and people were already asking for her belongings. I could understand if the homeless or needy wanted clothing, but personal effects should have been left to family. My sister was hoping for pictures or anything from our past.

Our parents divorced in 1972 when I was nine. We lived with Glynn for another five years or so. Duncan was gone, and in the true spirit of the Me Generation, Glynn sold off most of the household belongings and took off. Somehow, she secured a job as a nanny for three children for a Doctor and his wife. You can guess correctly, she was fired.

My sister and I were left with a suitcase full of clothing, some childhood toys, and memorabilia. I went and lived with friends until I finished high school, my sister boarded a room in a house in West Chester. She worked at Wendy’s and put herself through college. She married her high school sweetheart when she was twenty. Bouncers were required at her wedding. Glynn had her information network and was incensed she wasn’t invited to the wedding. She called the Pastor and told him he had no right to marry them since she wasn’t invited. Whenever a minister left the church, they relayed the information to the incoming pastor about our mother, in hopes of protecting us. The church became my sisters’ domain, and she found family with her in-laws.

I became the gypsy. Constantly moving, going where life needed me to be. Surviving. The one constant was whenever I settled somewhere Glynn would find me. I was unlisted but there were still people in her network who didn’t know the whole story, or thought they were doing the right thing. Again, Christians. Her calls would rattle me throughout my life. Until 1997.

I was at a point in my life where I was bottom dwelling. I had just lost a great job, I was forced out by a boss who was embezzling company funds, and he needed me out of the way. I was angry as I pictured myself becoming my mother, going from job to job. I knew if I got to the point of selling “underground condominiums” as Glynn use to refer to burial plots I would be truly lost. It also happened to be my birthday and I didn’t recognize the number on caller Id when I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Pammy it’s me, I love you”

“Oh, Good God, What do you want?” I replied in a somewhat incredulous voice.

I couldn’t take back the question, and oddly this time I wasn’t going to let her prevail. When you feel as if you have nothing to lose, courage peeks around the corner then makes a bold entrance. I had already ceded the floor over with my comment, and I endured the litany of how life had done her wrong, how her marriage to our father didn’t work and everything was everybody else’s fault but her own. I let this go one for about five minutes before I quietly said, “Enough.”

If anyone remembers the commercial for Silkience, the model is full face to the camera stating, “if you want someone’s attention, whisper.”

It works, much better then yelling. It’s a whole new level of communication which quiets the other so they have to actually listen to what you are saying. It is so easy to block out the sound of shouting, but human nature wants to know secrets.

I took my advantage and like any great barrister presented her children’s side of the case.

I wouldn’t let her interrupt and I felt vindicated for all of us. I told her in no uncertain terms what her actions created. I wanted her to be responsible for the life she was living. I finished her off that we were who we were in spite of her, not because of her. I was empowered. She was ballistic.

“ I wanted to leave you my Lowery organ but now I am not leaving you ANYTHING!” she screamed into the phone. I laughed. Memories of her sitting me in front of the t.v. watching the Larry Ferrari hour attempting to force me into appreciating the venue made me loathe it even more.

“ I don’t care Glynn, I don’t want it and surely I don’t need anything from you. Do you realize you have been out of my life, longer than you were ever in it?”

To this day, I still can’t believe the next words that came out of her mouth.

“Well, I guess I won’t be asking you for any compensation then.” Click.

Whoa. I had to replay that in my mind again. Here was my point to her, let’s see; Abandon your children. Check. Collect support money. Check. Steal from your oldest, ignore the middle child and disown the youngest twice. Check, check, check. I knew I still had letters from her somewhere. I kept them because she had forgiven me. That was the other puzzle I was never able to figure out, but I reminded myself what a sick mind she had. But now, she felt I owed her money?

I knew this wasn’t over, a thousand miles away and I could hear the pen scribing a dirge onto paper. A week later, I received the twelve page letter, front and back. I remembered where I stuck it, and pulled it out to show my sister.

“Val, read this and then let’s decide what we want to do. You know as well as I that this isn’t over, that would be too easy.”

I knew Glynn would try to reach out from beyond the grave, and my sister agreed that I would be the target. She handed me back the letter, unread. I told her I thought we needed to speak to the church again, the minister had promised to call her back within the next day. She and Ashley left, and I took Tori to her party.

I realized as days passed and the word spread that no one knew what to say. So basically nothing was said, though I did get a card from my friends’ parents offering condolences. It is the proper thing to do and in a way I appreciated it. I took it more of an acknowledgement of what I was going through now of tying up loose ends and the past, then sorrows of her passing. I had the same feeling after you have a fender bender. It’s the inconvenience of dealing with your insurance agent, the auto body shop, the car rental, and getting to work, then the actual damage to the car.

Three more days had passed and still Minister Friendly was acting like a typical man. Still no phone call. We had learned that she actually died at the end of November but we weren’t notified until December 3^rd. My guess was that she was on a block of ice somewhere, and all the chemicals from the makeup she wore would preserve her. True story, when we were young one of my friends asked her who did her makeup – the mortician? I think Tammy Fay took lessons from Glynn. I asked my sister if she had heard anything, but the good reverend wasn’t taking her call. I never like to hear that so now it was time I took matters into my own hands.

I waited until the next day at work to give a little jingle to St. Andrews and see what was what. Suffice it to say I was a little taken aback at the good Reverend and his attitude was nothing if not defensive. He claimed he had received his copy of the will and in no uncertain term nothing was left to her children and they were in their right to do as they wished. I felt so blessed that this man of the cloth was taking this position. It fortified my beliefs in the hypocrisy of Christendom everywhere. He told me that she did have friends who wished for a viewing and it would cost us $275.00. Oh really? I’ll get back to you on that.

I decided to make a few more phone calls, and I located the Sheriffs office who handled the removal and they were helpful in letting me know where she was. They also told me a mistake had been made on the death certificate.

“What? I said quietly to the officer, “she isn’t dead?”

“Oh no dear, she is dead. It just appears that there was a mistake made in the Cause of Death and they used White-Out© on the certificate. You can’t do that, so it has to be reissued.”

I heard her typing on a keyboard as she continued to scroll up more information on Glynn’s final day.

“My, she certainly was as sick woman; she has a whole list of ailments here.”

“Does it say anything about her being mentally ill?” I had a hint of sarcasm in my voice but I would have bet dollars to donuts that the list she was looking at mirrored the one in my twelve page missive.

“No, we just have a list here.”

I asked for a copy for comparative purposes. I knew my sister was interested in a family history, but when you detail the minutiae as if it were a true diagnosis I don’t have time for it.

My next call was to the funeral home. They said they still had her, but couldn’t cremate her as they didn’t have the death certificate. I explained the delay and gave them the lawyer’s information. He was my next call.

It appeared Glynn was a pox on the community she lived in. She left her mark on everyone she came in contact with. She was an overbearing pain in the ass, even to her own congregation. She was able to force her clown ministry on them, something that had gone out in the Me generation just like she did. I found her obituary that someone wrote, and she went by the name of “Lovey” the clown. She even wrote her own memorial service complete with clowns. Unfortunately for her, she forgot to leave that $275.00 deposit.

I was able to get a hold of the lawyer quite easily and requested a copy of the will. I could tell by the tone of his voice that she was a pain in the ass to him too. I asked him if he had been paid for his services.

“No, he replied. Normally I would be paid from the estate.”

“You realize that isn’t going to happen don’t you?” I asked him and quickly followed with another.

“Are we responsible for her debts?” Paying bills was never her strong point and we always had a phone or electric shut off, growing up.

“You didn’t sign any papers did you?”

“No way.”

“Then you aren’t responsible. Good luck to you and I’ll mail the will as soon as possible.”

I was still in a quandary as I knew as a member of the church something should still be done. On the one hand, no one knew we existed so no one would miss us. On the other dramatic hand, she had lied to her friends for all those years, and what would our presence do?” The way I saw it, there was no point in continuing chatter about the past and our attendance would serve nothing.

I made my decision and called Valerie later that night to fill her in on my sleuthing. The church hadn’t made any decisions, and the only time they had available would have to be squeezed in between all the holiday programs, but maybe something four days before Christmas.

I did tell her about the cremation, and Val freaked out and wanted to know what they were doing with the ashes. I didn’t know or care. She was upset and thought they were going to show up UPS on her doorstep. Wow. I was beginning to think that maybe we did go and watch her be interred to give her some piece of mind. In the end we bagged the entire trip much to the chagrin of friends who thought we would regret it. I can honestly say I never have after the next set of events.

The first finger from the afterlife poked through with a phone call from a dear woman I remembered calling Aunt Berry. She and her husband had two boys Winston & Russel. I knew they were wealthy, traveled extensively, and I never was quite sure how they knew our family. I was five or six years old the last time I saw her. She on the other hand had visited Glynn six months prior to her death. Since she knew we existed Glynn couldn’t pretend we didn’t.

My mother always fancied herself a poet, and used to spend hours writing poetry and taking pictures of flowers, clouds, and trees and then making a slide show of it. She worked at a nearby nursing home and had a captive audience and shared her work with the old folks. I’m sure they appreciated it, as when they weren’t watching her slide show, they were tied with sheets to the handrails in the hallway. I used to go after school and play Bingo with them, so I witnessed first hand the horrors of aging.

Somewhere along the line she was able to get one of her poems published. My bet would be Readers Digest. Aunt Berry wanted to mail me a copy of the poem, and was directed to do this after Glynn died. I told her unless it was a poem, stating what a horrible mother she was I wasn’t interested. I felt bad, because here was a woman doing what she felt were last wishes, not realizing she had been manipulated by a so called friend, to play the pawn in this odd game of death chess.

I let that go, and round two came with the arrival of the will. I didn’t know what to expect but I didn’t expect to laugh with embarrassment at her feeble attempts to create controversy only made her look more pathetic in death then she was in life.

True enough, her first words in the will stated nothing was to be left to her children or her brothers and sisters for her own reasons. My guess is they hadn’t heard of her passing either. I went through the list and nothing was left that was my brothers, so I saw no sense in contesting a will.

Her next prize possession, her POEMS were left to an old associate pastor from our church from twenty years before. Glynn had fancied herself in love with him and he had left our church after one ambitious woman had claimed he raped her. The charges were dropped, the woman was admitted for psychiatric care. He still ministers in another church but I kind of felt bad he could never out himself to Glynn. Yeah, Methodist have gay ministers too, but when they say that they are, they get booted from the church.

I don’t know what was in all of her poems, but I’m sure some had to be love sonnets written to him. Unrequited love in everyway possible. I continued reading and sure enough there was that Lowery organ donated to the church. I snickered and saw an old computer was left to the boy scouts. They probably needed a door stop so that was nice. Then I saw it listed among her treasures. My sister was right, I did have selective memory. Her cross collection. Oh lord, what poor creature was burdened with that? With startling clarity I had a hat trick of flashbacks to her bedroom. My mother’s “hairy chest”, the closet door with two hundred and fifty crosses hanging from various hooks, and the female equivalent of leisure suits and bouclé knitwear.

Glynn wore a wig and a cross every day with a polyester outfit. She always had aspirations of being a minister or clergy, but settled on being a clown. Growing up, our houses always had bookcases full of books. We had bookcases just for encyclopedias, dictionaries, and reference books. Another one in the kitchen for recipe books that I wish she had opened. Spam in tomato sauce does not Hungarian goulash make. Children’s books, adult fiction, and last but not least, theology books. She made us have nightly devotions, followed closely by the church’s Upper Room. The only time I was allowed to forego my part was when my tonsils were removed and it hurt to speak. But the duplicity of Christians who purport the word of god but act like the devil thinking the great big I’m sorry and I accept your word gives them a clean slate mocks the very essence of faith.

Glynn was the epitome of Christianity. I remember being in eighth grade, shortly before she left and she threw out my clothing. She didn’t like what I was wearing and she wanted me to only wear her clothing to school. It didn’t matter that her clothes were too big for me, but I refused. I rescued one pair of jeans and a shirt. I wore the same pair of pants and shirt every day to the mockery of my entire class. I didn’t let it show that I cared. I only knew she wasn’t going to win. I rather suffer the shame in my own clothing thank you. If it came down to a test of wills, I would win every time.

As I kept reading I wondered for a moment why I ever felt the need to go to Florida and strengthened my resolve to let her stay where she was, wherever that may be.

Another week past and another phone call from another stranger. I have to give her credit, she did plan her attempts well. Very busy for a dead woman indeed. This time it was a woman named Patty, who was confused about a package that arrived on her doorstep without explanation only my phone number.

Sighing, I told her about Glynn, and I was interested in how she knew my mother as this was a local number. She told me she had worked with her at Royer Greaves School for the Blind, and I though that was appropriate and those kids didn’t know how lucky they were. She said she somewhat kept in touch with her, whenever Glynn came to PA she stayed with her in Paoli. I spent a good hour on the phone with her and it appeared she was not as snookered into Glynn’s tales of woe as everyone else seemed to have been. She shared with me that she was a mother herself and she could understand if someone had a problem with one child, but not all three. She was also aware of Glynn having financial difficulties in Florida and Glynn told her of her plans to sell my brothers house and keep the money. She attempted to get Glynn to do the right thing, but Avarice was her middle name, and her words were to no avail. I filled her in on the rest of the story.

She then told me, that when my sister was boarding in town all those years ago, she had driven my mother to Marion’s house who was the live in landlord. Marion was a seventy year old woman and told my mother my sisters’ rent check had bounced. Glynn had no reply and Patty asked my mother what she was going to do. She said Glynn said it wasn’t her problem, and left. She asked me what to do with the crosses. I told her I didn’t care, melt them and if she ran across any other items to give my sister a call.

I felt better that another person outside the circle saw through her charade. Right or wrong I was still trying to validate my feelings.

I don’t want to sound cold and that I never shed a tear. I did, but not for the reasons of sorrow and loss of a mother. I cried because a mother would leave her children and years later blame them for it. I cried because I wanted a better relationship with my sister and I thought Glynn’s death would finally pave the way and wipe the hurt away. I cried because I was glad she was dead and I was finally free. I cried because someone else’s mom knew her for the liar she was and tried to help. Finally I just cried for all the times I never let myself before. I looked at my swollen face, and ran a cold cloth over my eyes and put the past behind. It would never go away but I had a better understanding after all.

My oldest and dearest friend Doug sent me an email a week after hearing the news. He summed it up perfectly.

Hey Pam,

Read your news at 0530 this morning. Sorry to hear that the house fell on your mother. I hope you are able to sift through the many emotions we have layered ourselves with, without too much pain. One consolation for you is I guess is that there won’t be someone following you around anymore, erasing your existence and re-writing history. I hope in her new life she gets the answers and understanding she couldn’t reach on earth, and there will be closure and peace for her. My thoughts are with you. Douglas.

I found myself smiling again and sent his words on to my brother and sister. I felt better and I knew that no matter what happened in the past it was just that. Our childhood was over, we were adults and we made the right decision to let everything go. Reading his words again, I realized that Glynn wasn’t able to fool everyone, just a handful of people in a state I’ve never been too and never intend to visit. I gathered up all the documents; the will, her letters, the medical list she made up, and her obituary and put it all in a box. It didn’t seem to matter at all anymore.

Maybe I will start taking phone calls in the morning again.

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Getting To Know You...

2007-03-03

I’m going to include some links to various tests that may enlighten, or confirm, or shed some light on things you may not know about yourself. Hey, what else are you going to do on a Saturday night, since you are sitting at home, online- again. Have fun, remember there are no right or wrong answers.

Some are political. You may call yourself a Democrat, but are you really? This little quiz sheds some light. http://www.quiz2d.com/

How about how well you handle money? What is your budget personality? Some of these test offer their help for a fee…yeah yeah, blah blah, Just give me the results. http://www.personalitybudgeting.com/quiz.php?Extra=newlife

What career should you be pursuing? Take this informative test and get some guidance.

http://livecareer.com/

The post I followed from our own Spirited Miniken. I actually paid the 14.95 for the full test, only because of some job restructuring, and plans I am making in my life. I’ll post my results below.

http://www.advisorteam.com

Artisans are the temperament with a natural ability to excel in any of the arts, not only the fine arts such as painting and sculpting, or the performing arts such as music, theater, and dance, but also the athletic, military, political, mechanical, and industrial arts, as well as the "art of the deal" in business.

Artisans are most at home in the real world of solid objects that can be made and manipulated, and of real-life events that can be experienced in the here and now. Artisans have exceptionally keen senses, and love working with their hands. They seem right at home with tools, instruments, and vehicles of all kinds, and their actions are usually aimed at getting them where they want to go, and as quickly as possible. Thus Artisans will strike off boldly down roads that others might consider risky or impossible, doing whatever it takes, rules or no rules, to accomplish their goals. This devil-may-care attitude also gives the Artisans a winning way with people, and they are often irresistibly charming with family, friends, and co-workers.

Artisans want to be where the action is; they seek out adventure and show a constant hunger for pleasure and stimulation. They believe that variety is the spice of life, and that doing things that aren't fun or exciting is a waste of time. Artisans are impulsive, adaptable, competitive, and believe the next throw of the dice will be the lucky one. They can also be generous to a fault, always ready to share with their friends from the bounty of life. Above all, Artisans need to be free to do what they wish, when they wish. They resist being tied or bound or confined or obligated; they would rather not wait, or save, or store, or live for tomorrow. In the Artisan view, today must be enjoyed, for tomorrow never comes.

Artisans make up between 15 to 20 percent of the population, which is good, because they create much of the beauty, grace, fun, and excitement the rest of us enjoy in life.

The Four types of Artisans are:

Promoters (ESTP) | Composers (ISFP) | Crafters (ISTP) | Performers (ESFP)

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The Rules for Being Human

2007-03-01

When you were born, you didn't come with an owner's manual; these guidelines make life work better.

1. You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it's the only thing you

are sure to keep for the rest of your life.

2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called "Life on Planet Earth."