Defending Sarah Palin

I never thought I would be writing something in defense of Sarah Palin. But here I am defending her in the light of recent criticism.

“’She is a diva. She takes no advice from anyone,’” said this McCain adviser.”

Excuse me, but how much more ‘mavericky’ can you get. And I am sorry, but how much more misogynistic can you get than 'diva'.

I do not agree with Ms. Palin on most issues. But I can not condone the rhetoric. Perhaps Sarah Palin is a self-serving, horrible person who cares little about the United States and should be sent to prison for the rest of her life. But I don’t think so. She is governor of Alaska, a large state with a small population. She was elected by popular vote. She is not the devil incarnate.

Sarah may be a ‘diva’, but what is the appropriate term to describe Barack, John or Joe. You think those men aren’t diva-ish in their own right? We don’t pay the president or vice-president enough for it to be a lucrative career move. Although the retirement plan is great, none of the current candidates really need the addition cash flow.

I am sorry to defend Sarah Palin, particularly from her own party, but you have to say wrong is wrong.

The light at the end of the tunnel

Traditionally, I receive an earnings report from my 401K Plan on approximately the 20th of the month after the end of each quarter. Using that history, I have been waiting to see the statement for almost a week. I finally lost patience and went online to see if I could determine why there was a delay. Well, duh! I don’t have enough money left in my retirement plan to cover the cost of the paper, much less the ink or postage, to send me any documentation.

My first thought was to do what everyone does in times of financial crisis: throw myself out a window. And, trust me I tried. I really didn’t have the energy to go through all the effort to go upstairs, so I opted for the piano room window. I had forgotten what a major pain it is to take out the screen. And really, the best I could have hoped for was a dislocated shoulder. So I stayed inside.

So, what does a person do in a time like this? I went online. Lately, I have become a real junky of this website that gives all the latest election polls; senatorial, house and, of course, the presidential polls. And the polls are detailed down to the state and sometimes even county levels. I could go on and on about the idiosyncrasies of the various and sundry polls, but that is not where I am going with this little side trip.

I had just completed analyzing an Oct. 20 Zimmerheister Poll breaking down the left handed vote in Randolph County, NC, when I noticed a tab that read “Donations”. It was the only part of the website I had yet to visit, so there I went. It was an interesting little blurb going over the costs associated with the website. The webmaster had spent $4,000.00 for some router bits and another $2,000.00 to install a new state-of-the-art thing-a-ma-jiggy. And s/he advertises on blogs. I quote: “It can run up to $500.00 per month to advertise on a popular blog.”

Bingo!

Does this just shout “Mac’s financial security!” or what?

Okay, I do have a couple of details to work out, but I am confident that this scheme is my ticket to a comfortable, nay, opulent retirement. And I’m sure you will all help in anyway you can. Your other option is hosting me in my golden years!

Big Day In Hooterville

I bought a new push broom today. I know, I lead one of those thrill-a-minute lives where buying a new push broom is actually quite newsy. And pretty exciting. I just hope it doesn’t send Richard over the edge.

You would think that I would have realized that it required some assembly, since the head and the handle were parallel in the packaging, but until I ripped the cardboard off and the head fell to the floor it didn’t really dawn on me that I was going to have to do some construction. But I was ready. I mean how hard could it possibly be to make a push broom ready to use.

Frankly, quite hard. To make this broom fully operational would require a doctorate from a prestigious engineering university. After about a half-hour of struggling, trying one thing, then another, cursing, trying one more stupid idea, then throwing a temper tantrum and calling the broom a horrible name, I glanced down and noticed that there were instructions on the cardboard that had bound the parts together.

Nonchalantly, I reached down and picked up the cardboard. I glanced around in case any of the neighbors could see me. Then I actually read the instructions. I caught myself thinking things like:

“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Sure, sure, I get it. I mean if I would have gotten step one, this step would have been obvious.”
“Gees, I sure am glad I didn’t actually use the tablesaw!”
“Wow, a screwdriver, why didn’t I think of that!”

So, I followed the directions and five minutes later a push broom was born. Now, I can enjoy the screwdriver!

Tragedy in Alaska

Click on image to enlarge

Memories

I have an amazing memory. Please, do not confuse “amazing” with “good”. One day last week a woman came into my office. We had a wonderful conversation. She asked about the dogs, how my vacation was and if I still lived on Highway 35. We laughed and exchanged hugs as she left.

I have no clue who she was.

But:

“Allo. Emil?"
"Oui, c’est moi. Qui est à l’appareil? "
"Ici Jean Dupuis. Tu es libre ce soir? "
"Non. Je dois aller à la bibliotheque. Il faut que je rends des livres pour ma mere. As-tu envie de m’accompagner? "
"Oui, d’accord. Si on ce retrouver vers six heur.”

Yes, from my eighth grade French class with Miss Colliton, I vividly remember the above conversation. It was rquired learning.

With that stimulating dialogue dancing in my pea-brain, I have spent the better part of four decades waiting to meet someone named “Emil” or “Jean Dupuis”. Sadly, the conversation's window of usefulness may be waning. While I’m not sure that I have ever had to return books for my mother to the library, it is a safe bet that I will not be required to in the future. And each day, fewer and fewer of my friends are returning books for their mothers to the library.

But, Jean and Emil, I am ready. Sadly, I’m not free this evening at 6. How about tomorrow night?

Happy Birthday, Suzie Q

Susan has finally joined three of her four office mates in the Half-Century Club. We do have one child working in the office (depite federal statutes about child labor). Raquel is 30 something.

I'm quite sure that this would not be Susan's favorite picture, but it is the best I have.

Between the five of us, we have something like 130 years experience in the hospitality industry. Now that is a depressing statistic.

But this is Susan's day. Enjoy it woman, and come to work tomorrow refreshed and ready to face another decade or two of hell at the Inn of the Damned!

We strive for mediocrity!!!

(And in my book, you don't look a day over 39.)