#417 The Line

#417 The Line

Most guys shop like guys. The go into a store with a purchase in mind, head directly for the merchandise, pick it up, head for the cashier and get out of Dodge.

Women, most women, anyway, do it differently. They come in with a vague idea of what they want, and explore their way around the store until they find it, spend endless time and effort evaluating the item (which is already one of many -- after the archaeological dig through every aisle leading up to the vaguely wanted item,) and then choose one. And think about it. And more archeology. Then, maybe a return to the carefully considered item to carefully consider it some more. And to make sure they got the "best" one.

Most stuff is machine made in China. Every pair of slacks is exactly like every other pair of slacks. But the comparison is necessary. If these women worked in a medical laboratory, we'd probably have cures for cancer, arthritis, heart disease and AIDS by now.

If women were in charge of some of the real archaeological digs, we probably would have found the mummies of the famous Pharaohs a century earlier than we did.

We would have credible photos of the Loch Ness Monster.

And the Sistine Chapel would remain incomplete.

This also is why women tend not to bring their husbands or boyfriends along on the shopping trip.

But there is a subgroup within this kind of shopper. And this is the hardest for guys to understand at all. This one's a total mystery. Some people are constitutionally incapable of approaching an open checkout with no one on line.

"Look, there's no one at that checkout, let's go!" says husband.

No. Just one more look at one more thing.

And during that look, six people appear with overflowing shopping carts and the line is busy. Only THEN will she get on line.

If you head for that unoccupied line and start checking out, she will have found something else while your backs were turned to each other.

And you'll have to get on line twice.

So the trick is to suck it up. Never hit the line until you're absolutely positively certain there's nothing else to look at.






Shrapnel


--Every ten days, like clockwork, Verizon sends a pitch to sell it's new high speed fiber optic service. When you call to say "Okay, set me up," they say it's not available yet. Now they send a pitch say "since you already have our high speed fiber optic service, how about upgrading it to our SUPER high speed fiber optic service."

--The cable company is also busy trying to sell phone service. They say unlimited free calls to the US and Puerto Rico. What country is Puerto Rico in, again?

--You can feed the homeless with leftover food from the restaurants, but they won't do it. Why? Because if one homeless guy gets a bad tomato, he might sue.


I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(R)
(C)2008 WJR

#416 Vacation

#416 Vacation

Why do they call them that? It's just different work. Forget the nonsense about re-charging the batteries, refreshing body and mind, seeing new parts of the world.

Tried a flight from anywhere to anywhere else lately? Not only have the prices gone higher than the aircraft, you're lucky if you get a seat, even with a confirmed reservation. Security check when you're flying from Farmingdale, NY to Washington? Sure. Lot of terrorists in Farmingdale, and where else would they fly. If they were going to do something in New York, they'd drive. Or take the LIRR.

So, security checks, shoeless and all, from Farmingdale to Washington. At least the lines are shorter than they would be for, say, New York to Los Angeles.

Have the seats gotten smaller or is it just increased bulk in the passenger middle. Charge to check a bag? Why not charge to carry a bag on board. That's much more complicated. The airlines would have to figure out how to lose or damage carry-ons they never touch.

How about a nice quiet vacation at home, instead of flying hither or yon. After all, there are wonders in your back yard. Beautiful views half a mile away. Good restaurants.

Sounds very relaxing.

Also, put aside a day to hang some of the curtains you foolishly bought the other month. Oh, and the curtain rods.

Checklist: Pencil, level, drill, correct bit, hardware for the rods, and a measuring tape and a ladder.

One day will be enough, right?

Then, there are those pictures to hang and frame. Probably won't get to that the same day as the curtains. But that won't take nearly as long.

Grocery shopping.

How many guitars and banjos need new strings?

Maybe we should look for some fall clothing. After all, it's the beginning of summer -- so the stores will soon be full of fall stuff.

And there's the toilet in the downstairs bathroom, needs attention. As does the kitchen sink. And the front sidewalk needs some work. At least a re-painting if not a whole new bunch of concrete. And maybe we should trim back some of the plants and replace some of the wilting flowers. And steam-clean the ceramic floors in four different rooms.

Yep. Relax, re-charge the batteries. Refresh body and mind.


Tell me again why they call these things vacations?




Shrapnel:

--Let's play sports trivia! No. Wait. That's redundant.

--The New York Jets football team is thinking about legalized ticket scalping. You buy a season "license" (formerly known as a season ticket,) and, if you want, you can sell it at a profit -- legally. Of course, the Jets being the Jets, you're just as likely to re-sell it at a loss.

---When there's sold-out basketball or hockey at the Garden, there are always guys outside hawking tickets. There are always guys outside looking to buy tickets. Why don't they just get together?




I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(R)
(C)WJR 2008

#415 Foot in the Florida Room

#415 Foot in the Florida Room

You have to admire some guys. They really do live for their hobbies and do their jobs just to pay the bills. All of the "life coaches" tell us we should find something we love when we look for a job, and then work won't be work. They are, as usual, wrong. Find something you hate. And forget about it at the end of the day.

Foot O'Brien was saying that, sitting at the table in his Kew Gardens "Florida Room," which seems like a strange name for a room in Queens, but that's what it is. Foot got the name Foot by changing his previous name, from Inch, which drew a lot of laughs at closing time. He got the name "Inch" from the Danny Kaye movie about the guy who wrote fairy tales. It had a song about inchworms measuring marigolds. Foot measures stuff, too. He's a business accountant. A bean counter who refuses to eat beans and doesn't really much care for counting.

"See any accounting crap around here," he asks. "No computer. No spreadsheets, no ledgers, not even a (expletive) pencil!"

Foot doesn't bring the office home. He doesn't even have a calculator. But he DOES have a typewriter. Actually, that's not quite accurate. He has a who load of them. Some of them are pristine and shiny. Some are dusty and old. Some are in pieces on a workbench. That's what Foot does. Foot restores typewriters.

For whatever reason -- and if you ask him why, he'll tell you "because it makes you ask me why," which is not a real answer, but it's all you're going to get. He's been doing it for years. It's what he does. Used to be, you had a problem with your typewriter, Foot was the go-to guy. Almost no one uses the things anymore. So no one goes to the go-to guy. Which is fine with Foot. He never cared about your problem. He cared about the machine.

He can look up when each of the typewriters was built. Not just the year, but even the DAY. He's a guy who does his job to pay the bills, leaves the office in the office, has a Florida Room in Queens and has forgotten more about typewriters than Smith or Corona ever knew.

If you ask him -- and often even if you don't, he'll talk your ear off about typewriters. Just don't ask him about pencils or beans.


Shrapnel:

--Another incident of nuke plant workers sleeping in their chairs. It's tough to sit there all night long staring at steady meters, but this is a health issue. Causes atomic piles.

--Some states facing a budget deadlock are preparing to furlough some workers. They're called "unessential." Why does any state have ANY unessential workers?

--Talk about prices! A gang stole an orchard full of Japan's special "Bride" peaches, worth thousands of dollars a bushel. Either that or Japan has been invaded by an army of invading squirrels.



I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(R)
(C)2008 WJR

#414 Hypermiling

#414 Hypermiling


If the word's new to you, get used to hearing it. It's going to be around for awhile. Hypermiling is doing everything you can to squeeze use out of every drop of gasoline you buy. And these days, that squeezing can help.

But people, being people, are going to start doing even stranger stuff than usual behind the wheel.

You're going to find people who coast to the stop light, then turn the car off until it changes from red to green. Does this really save anything? Don't engines use a lot of gas to start the engine?

Tip: Don't take the key out of the ignition when you do this. There are a couple of reasons. First, you have to fumble to get the key back in the ignition and that takes too much time. Second, technically, you are illegally parked. No kidding. The cops can tag you for that.

Coasting downhill in neutral isn't a great idea, either, although it might save gas. Your engaged transmission gives you more control when you are slowing down and saves wear on the breaks. If your object is to save money, you're not doing it. Ask anyone who's had to have an early brake job lately.

The big thing about hypermiling, though, is going the speed limit instead of 20 mph faster. This one really CAN save fuel. Ever wonder about those EPA milage figures? They get the stats by running cars on tread mills, not roads. And what speeds do they use? The speeds you never travel -- 25, 35, 45, 55, 65 mph.

If you do that on an actual road, Hot Roddy who's behind you in the fast lane while you go 53 miles an hour is going to blow a gasket. Not in his engine -- in his head. And he'll do something stupid, like try to get around you and hit the car driven 48 miles an hour in the slow lane.

It's going to take some getting used to.

And you don't want to be around when some guy staring at his tachometer, making sure it stays at under 2000 rpm hits a stopped school bus he didn't see because he's looking at the tach.

Chances are we're going to take a senisble approach to hypermiling and do to it what we do to everything else. We'll do it to the extreme and then, after awhile, forget about it.

But gone should be the days of doing 80 on Route 80.




Shrapnel:

--Ashes to ashes, dust to dust? Better not empty the ash tray. All life is sacred.

--There are few, if any true synonyms in the English language. But we've become obsessed with substituting one word for another where we don't need to. And it sounds odd when we don't.

--Figured that jailing a few Enron crooks would keep everyone else on the straight and narrow? Didn't work. Let's see how many of the recently arrested financial wizards do time -- and bet short.


I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(r)
(C)WJR 2008

#413 A Letter

#413 A Letter

When was the last time you got an actual letter in the mail? You remember letters. They start out with something like "Dear So and So," and go on to tell you something, and then end with something like "Yours truly," or "Sincerely yours," or some-such?

More to the point, when was the most recent time you WROTE one? In ink. Without the magic of Microsoft or of an ink jet printer? Just a ballpoint or (gasp!) fountain pen on paper?

Such communication is so rare today, that when you get an actual letter, you have to focus to understand what it is. Not that your mailbox is empty. No, there's plenty in the mailbox. Ads, bills, maybe -- if you're old fashioned -- a magazine or two. But a letter? Some people of majority age today have never written one, and never received one. They are deprived. They need help. You can help them. You can write to someone born in the mid 1980s. It doesn't have to be a big deal. Something simple, like "Dear Billy, We're really enjoyed our cruise through the Persian Gulf. Thanks so much for sending us the tickets. Love, Mom and Dad."

There, it's been done for you. All you have to do is revise it slightly, if your kid's not named Billy or he didn't send you on a cruise to the Persian Gulf (tourism there is down for some difficult to discern reason, so maybe his name is Joey and he sent you on a cruise from the gas station to, say, Dunkin' Donuts.)

Probably, Billy will send you an email or a text message asking you what you call that thing you had delivered into his mailbox. If he even has a mailbox. If he ever looks in it.

On the other hand, maybe you'll start a trend. Nah. The letter really HAS gone out of date. It's just a piece of nostalgia, like Bakelite, incandescent lightbulbs and Oldsmobiles. There's still some of that stuff around. But if it weren't, no one would die from the lack.

Those of us who remember hand written letters as personal or intimate and typewritten letters as formal and official don't always remember them fondly, either. You had to have a decent handwriting for the former and when your fingers erroneously typed "Synseerly" at the end, you either had to either erase the word (that never worked convincingly,) or start the whole thing over.



Shrapnel

--Menthol's been in cigarettes since Spuds came on the market in 1924. Seventy five percent of African Americans who smoke, smoke menthols. Not smoking makes people rrrrreallllly cranky.

--Some members of congress want to remove flavorings from cigarettes. Menthol is included. Going to bring a whole new meaning to the phrase "angry black male" (and female.)

--Vick's Vapo Rub is mostly menthol. It's harmful if you swallow it. Maybe they should ban that, too, or at least decorate it with Surgeon General's warnings.

I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(r)
(C)2008 WJR

#412 I Don't Care

#412 I Don't Care

You know how reluctant I am to use "I" in these diatribes. But there's no way around it this time. Sorry, but I don't care if you care.

Getting older changes things. Or at least some things. And lately, I find myself caring less and less about the stuff that used to seem terribly important.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to vote for Obama and for all the right reasons. BUT...

I don't care if you don't have good health insurance, pay $5.00 for a gallon of gas (if you're really GETTING a full gallon, which you hae no way of knowing.) I don't care if the earth heats up or cools down, if you can't buy an incandescent light bulb, if breaking energy saving bulbs exposes us to mercury poison, if the unemployment rate is 30 percent in 2015, if the dollar falls, if the stock market falls,
I don't care if the whales are not saved, if I'm 25 pounds overweight, smoke, drink and cuss. I don't care about your great works of charity (are you sure you're altruistic?)

I don't care if your kids can't read, if your turnpike gets sold to a bunch of Europeans, if your beer provider gets sold to a bunch of Europeans. I don't care if the Today Show falls to number 2 in the ratings, if there are hormones in your beef and chemicals in your water or your Barbie Doll, that your flowers don't grow, that your corns and callouses do.

Caring is slightly over-rated. Acting on caring is WAY over-rated.

So, go ahead and put prayer back into school, and make Christianity the state religion in the process. Go ahead and outlaw abortion, gay marriage, pornography, affirmative action, and Social Security. I don't care that our rights are being eroded by the minute by people who claim to want small government but really want more. I don't care if you close down the tobacco industry, flood defense contractors with money. Go ahead, turn the mental ghetto into which Blacks/Jews/Muslims/Hispanics are forced to live.

Go ahead and idolize (in the original sense of the word) your heroes: Reagan, Goldwater, Kennedy, J Lo, P Diddy, M King, Hitler, whomever. And don't restrict yourself to mere mortals, dead or alive. Include your flat screen TV, your Ipod, your Iphone, your PC and your SUV.


Go ahead. Knock yourself out. I don't care.

Shrapnel

--I love Olbermann's show and tolerate Chris Matthews'. But these aren't the right guys to put in Russert's chair on Meet the Press. The show needs a news guy, not a commentator, even one on the correct side of things.

--If you buy kosher meat, here's something to avoid: Agri Processors. They're as Kosher as the next guy. But not when it comes to treating their employees.

--Bush is hustling to Iowa. Good job, Georgie. But that won't make up for what you did and didn't do in New Orleans.


I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(r)
(C)2008WJR

#411 Off The Page

#411 Off The Page

When there's heavy pollen or mold in the air, some people without allergies get itchy eyes or a runny nose or a scratchy throat. The explanation is completely logical. Irritants irritate. But allergies are so off the radar for most people without any, that they feel the symptoms but don't connect with the reason.

There's something else that can affect us with similar itchiness, and the stimulus check is a perfect example.

People look at these things and get uncomfortable. It's not because they're too small, or to late, or to meaningless. It's for a completely different reason.

There's a picture of the Statue of Liberty on the left side of the check, and she's looking left -- she's looking off the page, instead of looking right, or having a spot on the right side of the check, where looking left would signify balance.

It's not something that people pick up on easily -- but pick up on it they do, and it seems wrong.

Check out any major magazine. If a portrait is on the right side of the page, the person will be looking toward the fold in the middle. If the portrait is on the left side of a page, it'll be looking at the opposite border. Even in a group shot, the people on the right will be looking toward your left most of the time. No one looks off the page in Newsweek or Time or Forbes or Fortune or Sports Illustrated or People.

Same thing with over the shoulder graphic still shots on television. It took some doing, but the NBC graphics people, absolutely the best in the business had to be reminded for awhile. Now they don't. If the picture is on screen left, it looks at screen right. And vice-versa.

Admittedly, this is a small asteroid in the current galaxy of world problems. But it makes people itchy -- like ragweed in August, even people without hay fever or people without training in newspaper layout or television graphics.

Solving this problem won't make the check any bigger. And it won't end the war, lower unemployment, raise interest rates in the savings account or lower them on the credit card. It won't reduce our dependence on foreign oil, stop poisoned toys from entering the country or ease worries over global warming.

But it WILL help reduce the mental pollen and that's at least a small step.


Shrapnel:

--Pennsylvania retracted its motorcycle helmet law a few years back. A new study says biker head injuries have skyrocketed. Are you surprised?

--If you don't want to wear a helmet, don't. If you splatter what little brain you have all over the highway, go right ahead. Just don't do it when I'm behind you in traffic and the rest of us have to pay for your bravado and stupidity in lost time.

--A fairly good sized Harley gets about 50 mpg. They're not working on a hybrid. That they no longer leak even when empty is high tech enough.

I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.(r)
(C)2008 WJR