Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Dress Size Matters
Many moons ago (and suns and stars and other celestial objects that are, I'm happy to report, much older than I am), I moved from deep inside the Yankee territory of New Hampshire to the deep redneck recesses of North Carolina. Unfortunately, no one told me that I would need a Southern-to-English dictionary to make my transition a smooth one.
A few months after my life-changing relocation, I confused my lust and loneliness with love and married first girl who gave me the time of day. I'm not sure exactly when I finally came to my senses but back then I would do anything for my blossoming 100 pound beauty who quickly bloomed to about 200 pounds.
At that time, she had a thing for French designer clothing. And not the almost perfect items that you could find for pennies at Salvation Army. No, she had to have it right off the rack with that fresh wound of a new hundred dollar price tag still attached.
One day, when I was still slightly groggy after trading my plasma for cash to support the fashion sensibilities of my new wife, I stopped by one of the local fancy women clothing store. Through my woozy haze, I heard the sales girl say in a thick southern accent to one of her customers that she had "the most darlin' one-of-a-kind Pa Tate dress that everyone wanted." A genuine French-sounding labeled garment was just what I was looking for. I immediately swaggered over (well, more of a stagger) and asked to buy that dress. The sales girl nervously obliged me.
Thinking back on that moment, I should've inspected the dress a little closer. But that's all right. My extra-sized blushing bride did that job for me as she held up that exceptional item of petite clothing (definitely not, "Pa Tate") next to her wide form and demanded, "How am I supposed to wear this?!" "Over your head as an ascot." I said ... to myself. "As a belt?" I suggested hopefully. That's what I learned the importance of keeping ALL those sort of comments inside ... deep inside.
A few months after my life-changing relocation, I confused my lust and loneliness with love and married first girl who gave me the time of day. I'm not sure exactly when I finally came to my senses but back then I would do anything for my blossoming 100 pound beauty who quickly bloomed to about 200 pounds.
At that time, she had a thing for French designer clothing. And not the almost perfect items that you could find for pennies at Salvation Army. No, she had to have it right off the rack with that fresh wound of a new hundred dollar price tag still attached.
One day, when I was still slightly groggy after trading my plasma for cash to support the fashion sensibilities of my new wife, I stopped by one of the local fancy women clothing store. Through my woozy haze, I heard the sales girl say in a thick southern accent to one of her customers that she had "the most darlin' one-of-a-kind Pa Tate dress that everyone wanted." A genuine French-sounding labeled garment was just what I was looking for. I immediately swaggered over (well, more of a stagger) and asked to buy that dress. The sales girl nervously obliged me.
Thinking back on that moment, I should've inspected the dress a little closer. But that's all right. My extra-sized blushing bride did that job for me as she held up that exceptional item of petite clothing (definitely not, "Pa Tate") next to her wide form and demanded, "How am I supposed to wear this?!" "Over your head as an ascot." I said ... to myself. "As a belt?" I suggested hopefully. That's what I learned the importance of keeping ALL those sort of comments inside ... deep inside.
another toy bits the dust .. instead of the baby
Here's a new Christmas toy idea from our friends in China -- a baby teething ring that plays music and warmly vibrates while being chewed. You don't have to worry about this little treasure clogging up the landfill with tons of batteries. Rather, it's powered by plugging it into an electrical wall socket. That's right, one end into your house's 120 VAC and the other end into your baby. Fortunately regulatory heads have banned this unique toy from being imported into the United States. This justifiable interdict is kind of sad. Isn't this the time of year where you're supposed to "make your children's eyes light up"?
Friday, December 10, 2010
One of these days
Sometimes I thinks my family is the most ungrateful lot that a body could be married to. I should've known something was up when her family showed up to our shotgun wedding with a shotgun, an M-16 and a Sherman tank.
Now, I've tried to do right by my country wife and all of our young'uns. A few years ago I got us into a house with indoor plumbing and you would think they would be happy about that. But nooooooo! Building a house over a running stream wasn't good enough.
Last year, the kids were going on and on about us gettin' in a home entertainment system. So I worked a bunch of overtime and got 'em a pellet gun and a bird feeder. Judgin' by all the complaints, real birds and squirrels ain't as good as the ones on tele-o-vision set.
And for the past month, my wife been a-naggin' about how we should get one of them fancy Kichler outdoor lighting setups like the neighbors. For some reason, a baggie full of fireflies next to the bug zapper just doesn't make her happy anymore.
Well, I am sorry! I'm doing my bestest to feed all these whinin' mouths. I'm just lookin' forward to the day when I can come through the door and say, "Pack your bags, folks! I've won the lottery! I don't care where y'all go but you ain't coming with me!" Well, I cans dream, can't I?
Now, I've tried to do right by my country wife and all of our young'uns. A few years ago I got us into a house with indoor plumbing and you would think they would be happy about that. But nooooooo! Building a house over a running stream wasn't good enough.
Last year, the kids were going on and on about us gettin' in a home entertainment system. So I worked a bunch of overtime and got 'em a pellet gun and a bird feeder. Judgin' by all the complaints, real birds and squirrels ain't as good as the ones on tele-o-vision set.
And for the past month, my wife been a-naggin' about how we should get one of them fancy Kichler outdoor lighting setups like the neighbors. For some reason, a baggie full of fireflies next to the bug zapper just doesn't make her happy anymore.
Well, I am sorry! I'm doing my bestest to feed all these whinin' mouths. I'm just lookin' forward to the day when I can come through the door and say, "Pack your bags, folks! I've won the lottery! I don't care where y'all go but you ain't coming with me!" Well, I cans dream, can't I?
Ho Ho Ho :: sob ::
It's that time of year to begin fatten up our favorite holiday object – the credit card. Time to buy gobs of gifts for the young ones so that they can spend hours and hours playing with the boxes that once held their over-hyped holiday presents. And as long as you squander your money online through sites that adhere to the Payment Card Industry Data Security Standard (in other words, they're using pci hosting), you shouldn't have to worry about unintended parasites grabbing your hard-earned wealth for themselves (Congress and your local politicians withstanding).
Remember, if you let your credit card feast heartier than a tick in a puppy factory, I guarantee that you will be well rewarded in January. So take time this month to stock up on antacids and lots of job applications. When you get that over-sized bill next month, remember how pleasant you made the holiday times for others. After all, it's the thought that counts. And all I can say is "what were we thinking?"
Remember, if you let your credit card feast heartier than a tick in a puppy factory, I guarantee that you will be well rewarded in January. So take time this month to stock up on antacids and lots of job applications. When you get that over-sized bill next month, remember how pleasant you made the holiday times for others. After all, it's the thought that counts. And all I can say is "what were we thinking?"
Saturday, December 04, 2010
keep your enemies close and your friends ... off of facebook
To keep on top of technological trends and to give the impression that I'm an awesome dude on all things electronics (after all, techno-geeks are now the new James Dean), I've been signing on to the latest social media sites. Linked-In, Facebook, and Twitter are my top time-wasters, I mean, family-following, friend-stalking news gatherers.
Unfortunately, I've noticed that some of my contacts post such embarrassing things ... things that are beyond the red-faced level of OMG ( "OMG" ha! Told you, I'm hip). You know, those hideous little moments that they normally wouldn't even admit to themselves that they did. But, shine the light of a monitor in their eyes and touch their itchy fingers to the buttons with letters on them and it's confession time.
As for me, I'm keeping my life on the down-low :). ("down-low" AND a smiley face! I amaze myself sometimes.) First of all, I don't need someone else reading a tell-all accounting of my life until I'm ready to publish it for a 6 figure contract (preferably in dollars). Second of all, I don't need to give my present bosses or potential future employers any reason to promote me to the ranks of the unemployed. This leads to a slight paradox - in order to get on the social media hype-wagon, I've had to be anti-social on these sites. ("hype-wagon" is my contribution to the hip vernacular. You're welcome!) Strange times that we live in, indeed.
SO "friend" me if you like and say hi. I may reply back with that lengthy of greetings "hello" and probably little else. I'm not avoiding you. I'm not playing coy. I'm just being as social as safely possible ... until I win that lottery ticket. Then you can try friending me through the news media ....
Unfortunately, I've noticed that some of my contacts post such embarrassing things ... things that are beyond the red-faced level of OMG ( "OMG" ha! Told you, I'm hip). You know, those hideous little moments that they normally wouldn't even admit to themselves that they did. But, shine the light of a monitor in their eyes and touch their itchy fingers to the buttons with letters on them and it's confession time.
As for me, I'm keeping my life on the down-low :). ("down-low" AND a smiley face! I amaze myself sometimes.) First of all, I don't need someone else reading a tell-all accounting of my life until I'm ready to publish it for a 6 figure contract (preferably in dollars). Second of all, I don't need to give my present bosses or potential future employers any reason to promote me to the ranks of the unemployed. This leads to a slight paradox - in order to get on the social media hype-wagon, I've had to be anti-social on these sites. ("hype-wagon" is my contribution to the hip vernacular. You're welcome!) Strange times that we live in, indeed.
SO "friend" me if you like and say hi. I may reply back with that lengthy of greetings "hello" and probably little else. I'm not avoiding you. I'm not playing coy. I'm just being as social as safely possible ... until I win that lottery ticket. Then you can try friending me through the news media ....
Venimus, vidimus, vicimus
After working a long 70+ hour week, I spent Friday night doing what every loving father would do --- 11 PM found me standing in long line with my daughter so she could buy a copy of "Twilight: New Moon". In comparison between enduring prickly heat and standing for an hour to buy a movie that we could instantly buy the next day for a couple dollars more, standing is slightly better. Slightly.
Now the difficult part wasn't that you found fatherly me there, listening to the idle gossip from mothers waiting with their excited daughters. There was a couple of other bleary-eyed fathers whose expressions of "how did I get talked into this?" matched mine. The stressful part was being a couple of families ahead of a man who really needed a video on personal hygiene. Because of his 500 pound bulk, he had to get around using a motorized chair provided by the store. The large basket on his chair was almost overflowing with a cornucopia of chips, pork rinds, candy and other things that doctors warn us to stay clear of. His loose fitting tank top made you hope that he would make a stop in the lingerie department for bra. From the complexion of his ravaged face, you would think he'd spend his money on a "how to treat acne" DVD instead of buying one about clear faced vampires battling shirtless shaggy werewolves who can become hairlessly muscular in the blink of an eye (or quicker since my daughter didn't blink once during those parts of the movie).
In the end, it didn't matter. Venimus, vidimus, vicimus -- we came, we saw, we conquered the line and got the movie. I survived the night. And my daughter has a keepsake of our adventurous time together. I understand that the next episode of this long series comes out in a year. I can hardly wait. By then she be in college and I will be asleep ...
Now the difficult part wasn't that you found fatherly me there, listening to the idle gossip from mothers waiting with their excited daughters. There was a couple of other bleary-eyed fathers whose expressions of "how did I get talked into this?" matched mine. The stressful part was being a couple of families ahead of a man who really needed a video on personal hygiene. Because of his 500 pound bulk, he had to get around using a motorized chair provided by the store. The large basket on his chair was almost overflowing with a cornucopia of chips, pork rinds, candy and other things that doctors warn us to stay clear of. His loose fitting tank top made you hope that he would make a stop in the lingerie department for bra. From the complexion of his ravaged face, you would think he'd spend his money on a "how to treat acne" DVD instead of buying one about clear faced vampires battling shirtless shaggy werewolves who can become hairlessly muscular in the blink of an eye (or quicker since my daughter didn't blink once during those parts of the movie).
In the end, it didn't matter. Venimus, vidimus, vicimus -- we came, we saw, we conquered the line and got the movie. I survived the night. And my daughter has a keepsake of our adventurous time together. I understand that the next episode of this long series comes out in a year. I can hardly wait. By then she be in college and I will be asleep ...
Thursday, December 02, 2010
It's Wesley verses Charlie in the battle of social justice
For the past few years, Wesley Snipes has been protesting the federal system by not filing tax returns. Oh, he And his accountants made sure that he paid his taxes. But as part of a national protest group, he just didn't fill in the sacred forms. As a result, a federal judge decided last week to make an example and sentenced Mr. Snipes to couple years in prison. Was justice served? (Maybe Mr. Snipes' real crime is he is an actor. Had he been Mr. Obama's treasury secretary (and head of the IRS) who didn't even pay his taxes, we wouldn't be having this post.)
As I write this, Congress is debating whether they should censor New York representative Charles Bernard Rangel for a few "indiscretions". Now, Charlie (as his pork barrel benefactors fondly call him) wanted Congress to just reprimand him. When a legislative reprimand happens, someone makes an entry in the Congressional log that basically says "Bad, Congressman Rangel! Bad! Bad! Very naughty!" and then life goes on. However, Congress didn't think that was severe enough. So now they're voting on a sanction of censure. OOOoooo, censure! Very scary!
If they all agree to that action, they will make Mr. Rangel stand in front of Congress and say to him, "Bad, Congressman Rangel! It was very naughty that you didn't pay your taxes. It was very bad that you filed false tax returns. And you should not have used your position for personal gain." In other words, a public shaming. What a terrible fate! Then after a few minutes of a stern scolding from Nancy Pelosi, Charlie will have to ... well, do nothing. He's no longer head of the committee in charge of the taxpayers' cookie jar. But aside from that, very little will have changed for the Congressman.
"Oh sure," you might say to me. "What about his loss of public respect?" I might then have to ask you if you knew that he is a member of Congress. Also, considering his major accomplishments after 40 years of service has been mainly to get porkbarrel projects to his supports, then you know he hasn't had any true public respect since Nixon was president.
So I have to ask you, between Mr. Snipes and Mr. Rangel, who has has done a better job at benefiting society? Between Wesley and Charlie, who got the raw end of the justice stick?
As I write this, Congress is debating whether they should censor New York representative Charles Bernard Rangel for a few "indiscretions". Now, Charlie (as his pork barrel benefactors fondly call him) wanted Congress to just reprimand him. When a legislative reprimand happens, someone makes an entry in the Congressional log that basically says "Bad, Congressman Rangel! Bad! Bad! Very naughty!" and then life goes on. However, Congress didn't think that was severe enough. So now they're voting on a sanction of censure. OOOoooo, censure! Very scary!
If they all agree to that action, they will make Mr. Rangel stand in front of Congress and say to him, "Bad, Congressman Rangel! It was very naughty that you didn't pay your taxes. It was very bad that you filed false tax returns. And you should not have used your position for personal gain." In other words, a public shaming. What a terrible fate! Then after a few minutes of a stern scolding from Nancy Pelosi, Charlie will have to ... well, do nothing. He's no longer head of the committee in charge of the taxpayers' cookie jar. But aside from that, very little will have changed for the Congressman.
"Oh sure," you might say to me. "What about his loss of public respect?" I might then have to ask you if you knew that he is a member of Congress. Also, considering his major accomplishments after 40 years of service has been mainly to get porkbarrel projects to his supports, then you know he hasn't had any true public respect since Nixon was president.
So I have to ask you, between Mr. Snipes and Mr. Rangel, who has has done a better job at benefiting society? Between Wesley and Charlie, who got the raw end of the justice stick?
4G or not 4G
There's a lot of buzz in the news lately about various phone companies get ready to release their "4G" networks in the next few weeks. The only problem with these promises of high tech, high speed wizardry is that their "4G" isn't real "4G", at least not this initial go-around. To be considered 4G, a network technology has to meet a set of specifications known as IMT-Advanced.
For example, 4G standard means digital speeds at 1Gb/sec. Yet, when Verizon and its friendly competitors release their version, you get to enjoy paying higher prices for almost at a 1/10 of that speed. So right now, "4G" is just marketing hype.
Of course, some people don't mind paying for things that are cleverly marketed. They are the kind of people who will rush to a beach resort to buy "limited edition" sea water. Or they will hike into the hills to find that special stone quarry shop selling "new and improved" rocky mountain boulders (something you can't take for granite after a few eons). Or you will find them sweating away to get an exclusive exercise facility so they can purchase gourmet phentermine diet pills (bet you can't eat just one). You know the types ...
Anwyay, if Hamlet had a cell phone, he'd asked the same perplexing question that you should be asking yourself for the next several months, "4G or not 4G, that is the question!" He'd want to know "whether 'tis noble in the pocketbook to endure the slings and arrows of outrageous hype or to take arms and fingers against a sea of misleading claims and by opposing, end the madness. To wait -- to dream of better service that matches the overpriced monthly charges. By a dream to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand unnatural shocks that our cell phone bills render." I'm paraphrasing but I'm pretty sure that's what Hamlet would say.
For example, 4G standard means digital speeds at 1Gb/sec. Yet, when Verizon and its friendly competitors release their version, you get to enjoy paying higher prices for almost at a 1/10 of that speed. So right now, "4G" is just marketing hype.
Of course, some people don't mind paying for things that are cleverly marketed. They are the kind of people who will rush to a beach resort to buy "limited edition" sea water. Or they will hike into the hills to find that special stone quarry shop selling "new and improved" rocky mountain boulders (something you can't take for granite after a few eons). Or you will find them sweating away to get an exclusive exercise facility so they can purchase gourmet phentermine diet pills (bet you can't eat just one). You know the types ...
Anwyay, if Hamlet had a cell phone, he'd asked the same perplexing question that you should be asking yourself for the next several months, "4G or not 4G, that is the question!" He'd want to know "whether 'tis noble in the pocketbook to endure the slings and arrows of outrageous hype or to take arms and fingers against a sea of misleading claims and by opposing, end the madness. To wait -- to dream of better service that matches the overpriced monthly charges. By a dream to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand unnatural shocks that our cell phone bills render." I'm paraphrasing but I'm pretty sure that's what Hamlet would say.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
another win
Last month, I submitted a few ideas to the latest Cartoon Caption Contest and learned today that I scored in the top three places as well as had a couple in the "honorable mention" category. Sadly, I thought one of my other entries would have made it: "With best friends like that, who needs anemones?"
Still, each time I entered the last few contests, I managed to place in the top three. This is encouraging. Either that or not enough truly funny people are entering ...
Still, each time I entered the last few contests, I managed to place in the top three. This is encouraging. Either that or not enough truly funny people are entering ...
Maybe Spammers Will Catch a Cold from Blogger In Draft
You may have noticed a few changes that I've recently made to this blog. I've started using the beta version of the "Blogger In Draft" editor. Google's Blogger team have released several experimental features with layout and design and monetizing. One handy feature that has been the handling of legitimate comments while quarantining spammy ones as it is submitted. Lately, spam has been reigning king, so separating the wheat from the chafe has become a quick and easy process. My only other option would be to erase all the posts in this blog. But that would be like cutting off my head as one of the more drastic scalp eczema treatments – effective but deadly all the same. So for now, I'm settling for the quarantine method until Google releases its next feature – targeting the IP addresses of spammers and nuking their computers.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Getting Grounded in Zero
Almost 10 years later and there is still a debate about what type of effect to put at Ground Zero. We did have two huge spotlights that projected beams of daylight quality up into the sky. All was well until the migratory season of birds arrived. The light was so bright that birds used it as a navigational point of sunrise. They would fly towards the lights, circle them, drop a little message about being tricked and then fly off only to think a few miles later that they saw sunrise in the distance. And like a tourists trapped on the I-95 cloverleaf, they would retrace their path over and over again. After a while, people begin to complain about exhausted birds falling on them instead of being flipped at them. This prompted the powers-that-be to douse the lights for a few weeks so migrating flocks could continue on their predestined trip southward. (So if you live in Florida and are surprised to hear birds complaining about New York, this could be the reason.)
I propose something different. Instead of a visual effect, how about having the city goes for something auditory. Since New York is well known for its noise (which happens to also be one of birds' navigational directives), why not put two huge columns of home theater system speakers at Ground Zero. But not to broadcast noise. Rather, take in all of the commotion, all of the complaining, the angry yelling, all of the anxiety-producing sirens and alarms, then phase invert all that sound and rebroadcast it through our speakers. What happens is a wonderful cancellation! You end up having a zone of virtual silence – a place where you can calmly gather your thoughts and your senses, an welcomed opportunity to quietly reflect, to rethink all the senseless tragedies that have occurred in our short human history, and maybe put our priorities in a better perspective as we try to live with ourselves and with each other.
I propose something different. Instead of a visual effect, how about having the city goes for something auditory. Since New York is well known for its noise (which happens to also be one of birds' navigational directives), why not put two huge columns of home theater system speakers at Ground Zero. But not to broadcast noise. Rather, take in all of the commotion, all of the complaining, the angry yelling, all of the anxiety-producing sirens and alarms, then phase invert all that sound and rebroadcast it through our speakers. What happens is a wonderful cancellation! You end up having a zone of virtual silence – a place where you can calmly gather your thoughts and your senses, an welcomed opportunity to quietly reflect, to rethink all the senseless tragedies that have occurred in our short human history, and maybe put our priorities in a better perspective as we try to live with ourselves and with each other.
Congress Gives Me Gas
For the past five years, I've kept track of my fuel expenditures because that's what a divorce will drive you to – counting pennies so you don't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere, hoping for rich old lady to stop, pick you up, and take you home where you live happily ever after in her generous will. Wishful thinking aside, I just want to make sure my car didn't run out of gas and leave me at the mercy of rogue squirrels out to avenge their flattened, road-killed brethren.
Keeping up with this expense has allowed me track my gas mileage as well. As you can see from my MPG chart, there are seasonal trends as well as indications that something expensive was about to break. It was this year’s numbers that had me a little concerned at first. Usually, my mileage rebounds in the Fall time of the year. Problems? Fortunately, I have the good fortune of knowing very fortunate mechanic. He looked over the car and said that I was safe from vigilante squirrels for a little while longer. So why isn't my gas mileage coming back up like it should? He wasn't sure and proceeded to blame my faithful car’s youthful 260,000 miles of age. But I think I have a better answer.
As I filled up my car early this morning, the first brand new rays of sunlight ricocheted off of the ethanol sticker on the gas pump. It used to say "may contain up to 10% ethanol." May. As in might have somewhere between zero but not quite 10%. Today, after I recovered my eyesight from the bullets of a brand-new sparkly day, I noticed the sticker now reads "contains at least 10% ethanol but less than 15%."
I know you physics majors are way ahead of me on this but the early morning fog in my mind took a bit to clear. Once my mental process snapped into place like the fragile twigs that they are, I realized that ethanol has much less explosive power than gasoline – a very reduced bang for the buck which unfortunately doesn't show up in the pump price. It isn't my car that is the problem. It has just been corn-fused and I’ve been confused and we all have just been conned.
Keeping up with this expense has allowed me track my gas mileage as well. As you can see from my MPG chart, there are seasonal trends as well as indications that something expensive was about to break. It was this year’s numbers that had me a little concerned at first. Usually, my mileage rebounds in the Fall time of the year. Problems? Fortunately, I have the good fortune of knowing very fortunate mechanic. He looked over the car and said that I was safe from vigilante squirrels for a little while longer. So why isn't my gas mileage coming back up like it should? He wasn't sure and proceeded to blame my faithful car’s youthful 260,000 miles of age. But I think I have a better answer.As I filled up my car early this morning, the first brand new rays of sunlight ricocheted off of the ethanol sticker on the gas pump. It used to say "may contain up to 10% ethanol." May. As in might have somewhere between zero but not quite 10%. Today, after I recovered my eyesight from the bullets of a brand-new sparkly day, I noticed the sticker now reads "contains at least 10% ethanol but less than 15%."
I know you physics majors are way ahead of me on this but the early morning fog in my mind took a bit to clear. Once my mental process snapped into place like the fragile twigs that they are, I realized that ethanol has much less explosive power than gasoline – a very reduced bang for the buck which unfortunately doesn't show up in the pump price. It isn't my car that is the problem. It has just been corn-fused and I’ve been confused and we all have just been conned.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Medi-flex ... It isn't your money any more
At first, I thought that using a medical flex account was a great idea. The company took some of my untaxed earnings, placed it into a non-interest-bearing account, and I could use it to pay any and all medical related expenses. The gamble was based entirely on my Nostradamus-like powers. At the beginning of the year, if I didn't correctly foretell exactly what my expenses would be for the next 12 months, I would lose all the money remaining in my account.
So last December, I've made my prediction, confident that I had underestimated what I would have to spend in 2010. And so far, my prophecies have had me considering the purchase of that "never work again a day in your life" lottery ticket. That was until a couple of weeks ago. That fatefull day, our company HR person gathered us together and said that, starting on January 1st, 2011, the IRS would no longer accept credit card receipts that show you paid for your doctor visit. Heaven knows that the Paperwork Reduction Act isn't worth all the papers that it was written on. So obviously, you need more paperwork from a doctor to prove that he wasn't charging you to sit around and discuss golf scores. Our HR person also told us that the IRS would also no longer allow our medical flex accounts to be used for the purchases of over-the-counter remedies of any kind. In other words, if you're going to try to cure yourself, you need to be charged income tax along with your sales tax. Obviously an effort to reduce cost of medical care.
Not this would be a problem because we were still in 2010. Or so I thought when I turned in my credit card receipt for June's visit to my doctor and my receipt for over-the-counter melatonin (which my doctor told me was cheaper and would work as well as prescription medicine). Today I received a letter from our medical flex company. They happily informed me that both receipts were rejected. Apparently those helpful regulations into effect on October 1, 2010. Leave it to the IRS to change the rules in the middle of the game without allowing you anyway of adapting to them.
Has anyone else experienced this little change in policy or am I the only one being scammed here?
So last December, I've made my prediction, confident that I had underestimated what I would have to spend in 2010. And so far, my prophecies have had me considering the purchase of that "never work again a day in your life" lottery ticket. That was until a couple of weeks ago. That fatefull day, our company HR person gathered us together and said that, starting on January 1st, 2011, the IRS would no longer accept credit card receipts that show you paid for your doctor visit. Heaven knows that the Paperwork Reduction Act isn't worth all the papers that it was written on. So obviously, you need more paperwork from a doctor to prove that he wasn't charging you to sit around and discuss golf scores. Our HR person also told us that the IRS would also no longer allow our medical flex accounts to be used for the purchases of over-the-counter remedies of any kind. In other words, if you're going to try to cure yourself, you need to be charged income tax along with your sales tax. Obviously an effort to reduce cost of medical care.
Not this would be a problem because we were still in 2010. Or so I thought when I turned in my credit card receipt for June's visit to my doctor and my receipt for over-the-counter melatonin (which my doctor told me was cheaper and would work as well as prescription medicine). Today I received a letter from our medical flex company. They happily informed me that both receipts were rejected. Apparently those helpful regulations into effect on October 1, 2010. Leave it to the IRS to change the rules in the middle of the game without allowing you anyway of adapting to them.
Has anyone else experienced this little change in policy or am I the only one being scammed here?
when good ideas are ignored
This past year, I have been developing a lot of obstacle detection and hands-free accessories for the automotive world. The idea is to make it safer for you (as the courteous, kind driver that you are) by having these handy gadgets in your car. If you're lucky, those wonderful people in the other cars will revoke their title of "supreme idiot" and renounce their worthiness as recipients of the one finger salute by installing the same high-tech goodies in their vehicles. Of course, they get such unflattering titles for a reason -- no incentive to equip their death mobile with the latest protective hardware.
You would think that the automobile insurance industry would encourage obvious commitments to safety (such as yours) by giving you a break on your premiums. But no. At work we've all had the same embarrassing reaction from our respective insurance agents when we bring up this win-win idea. We get a kindly smile, a gentle pat on the top of our ever-so-cute pointy heads, a lollipop that would make any dentist cry happy, dollar sign tears, and a firm "There, there now. Next you'll be ask me to believe that the world is round. Now run along like a good engineer and leave the hard money thinking to me."
So I'm left to my own resources: spending time trying to find cheap auto insurance companies and developing a device that traps overcharging insurance agents in their car. Yes, I will let them out … if they can afford the premiums.
You would think that the automobile insurance industry would encourage obvious commitments to safety (such as yours) by giving you a break on your premiums. But no. At work we've all had the same embarrassing reaction from our respective insurance agents when we bring up this win-win idea. We get a kindly smile, a gentle pat on the top of our ever-so-cute pointy heads, a lollipop that would make any dentist cry happy, dollar sign tears, and a firm "There, there now. Next you'll be ask me to believe that the world is round. Now run along like a good engineer and leave the hard money thinking to me."
So I'm left to my own resources: spending time trying to find cheap auto insurance companies and developing a device that traps overcharging insurance agents in their car. Yes, I will let them out … if they can afford the premiums.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
you are welcome
Yes, I know that the title of this blog is "Adapt, Adopt, and Improve" and I've tried to post entries relating to this motto from the Knights of the Round Table. (Of course, where are they now? A lot of good that saying did them.) Lately, I've been feeling this wariness from the constant challenges of adapting, adopting, and simply trying to improve life's often ridiculous situations. Mind you, I'm not giving up. Good grief, no. The world come to an end (not really, it just seems that way.) All I'm saying is that a little vacation, or a little time off to just play or even just sleep would be most welcome right now. But I don't see that happening in the next few months. There are noses to be wiped, hands to be held, bills to be paid, and posts to write. So if you get up tomorrow and the sun has risen, I just want to say ... you're welcome. Why? I have no idea.
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
I think I feel a headache coming on
Every paycheck I have a few dollars taken out and put into my Medi-flex account. Perhaps you're familiar with this accounting scam. It works by having you become psychic enough in December to know how sick you're going to be the upcoming year and how much it will cost. You then tell your employer this magical money (along with the winning lottery ticket) so he can take money from your paycheck before it's taxed and give it to an accounting firm to graciously hold onto.
Next, during those 12 months, you submit your medical bills to that accounting firm (who only has your best interest at heart) for reimbursement. If, at the end of the year, you had been too healthy to use up all of your medi-flex money, the accountants get to keep it and go on their own spending spree. So shame on you if you didn't keep track of every aspirin, cough drop, and doctor visit. When I say "keep track of", I mean having a receipt with so much documentation, it would make an IRS agent weep.
Now the bad news. It seems that, after playing this medi-flex game for a few years, most people get amazingly proficient at gauging what their upcoming medical expenses will be. Bad taxpayer! Bad taxpayer! But don't worry. In order for the government and medical accounting firms to make more money next year, they did what any spoiled brat would do when they're losing the game … they change the rules. Starting next year, you can no longer use your hard earned dollars in your account to buy any over-the-counter medicine. All of your receipts have to be doctor related and prescription based, which means none of this trying to heal yourself nonsense. Come December, your psychic powers had better be more powerful than that of a Wall Street broker.
Now the good news. These rules don't go into effect until January 1, 2011. So if you still have a lot of money idling in your medi-flex account, I suggest you go buy one of those medicine cabinets that are the size of an outdoor shed. Then, stock it full with every over-the-counter remedy that you can lay your hands on. If you're lucky, you might be able to write off the medicine cabinet as well.
What if you were a wise steward of your medi-flex resource this year and have nothing left in your account? Then I would suggest buying a box of envelopes. Whenever you or your loved ones or close friends (including the family cat and dog) have the sniffles and sneezes, just make sure to cough hard enough to coat the inside of a few envelopes. Seal this little germ treasure chest and mail it to your representative in government and to your medi-flex accounting firm. There is no reason why you shouldn't spread your wealth around.
Next, during those 12 months, you submit your medical bills to that accounting firm (who only has your best interest at heart) for reimbursement. If, at the end of the year, you had been too healthy to use up all of your medi-flex money, the accountants get to keep it and go on their own spending spree. So shame on you if you didn't keep track of every aspirin, cough drop, and doctor visit. When I say "keep track of", I mean having a receipt with so much documentation, it would make an IRS agent weep.
Now the bad news. It seems that, after playing this medi-flex game for a few years, most people get amazingly proficient at gauging what their upcoming medical expenses will be. Bad taxpayer! Bad taxpayer! But don't worry. In order for the government and medical accounting firms to make more money next year, they did what any spoiled brat would do when they're losing the game … they change the rules. Starting next year, you can no longer use your hard earned dollars in your account to buy any over-the-counter medicine. All of your receipts have to be doctor related and prescription based, which means none of this trying to heal yourself nonsense. Come December, your psychic powers had better be more powerful than that of a Wall Street broker.
Now the good news. These rules don't go into effect until January 1, 2011. So if you still have a lot of money idling in your medi-flex account, I suggest you go buy one of those medicine cabinets that are the size of an outdoor shed. Then, stock it full with every over-the-counter remedy that you can lay your hands on. If you're lucky, you might be able to write off the medicine cabinet as well.
What if you were a wise steward of your medi-flex resource this year and have nothing left in your account? Then I would suggest buying a box of envelopes. Whenever you or your loved ones or close friends (including the family cat and dog) have the sniffles and sneezes, just make sure to cough hard enough to coat the inside of a few envelopes. Seal this little germ treasure chest and mail it to your representative in government and to your medi-flex accounting firm. There is no reason why you shouldn't spread your wealth around.
Will Work for ... Work!
Apparently, I don't work enough. When I look at my paycheck and look at my bills, there seems to be a minor discrepancy. Minor that is, by Bill Gates' standards but I'm trying to positive here. So I'm doing what any other hard-working American would do, which is to work harder. How else can I compensate for my lack of talent, beauty and brains? By working twice as hard to make up my lack of skills, there is no end to the things I can't accomplish.
In any case, I have been submitting job applications about the town in hopes of some part-time work. After all, the holiday season is almost here and someone has to help these overpriced stores sell their substandard merchandise to bleary-eyed shoppers who are hyped up on coffee and the overwhelming drive to get their snotty nosed kids the latest and greatest fad. Of course, I mean that in a good way. At least, that's how I hope the store manager took my comments during today's interview. Otherwise he must have been lying when he said he was looking for a hard-working and honest worker -- and there's nothing dishonest about what I said. As for hard-working ... well, I'm looking, aren't I!
In any case, I have been submitting job applications about the town in hopes of some part-time work. After all, the holiday season is almost here and someone has to help these overpriced stores sell their substandard merchandise to bleary-eyed shoppers who are hyped up on coffee and the overwhelming drive to get their snotty nosed kids the latest and greatest fad. Of course, I mean that in a good way. At least, that's how I hope the store manager took my comments during today's interview. Otherwise he must have been lying when he said he was looking for a hard-working and honest worker -- and there's nothing dishonest about what I said. As for hard-working ... well, I'm looking, aren't I!
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Another Reason to Avoid DST?
Attention, all iphone users! Want to know where the closest Starbucks is? There's an app for that. Want to know if you're about to bounce a check? There's an app for that. Want to have your iPhone alarm automatically update to the change in daylight "savings" time (DST) this weekend? There's ... no app for that. You'll have to do it yourself. This bug, sorry, undocumented feature, was supposed to be fixed in iOS 4.2 but no one told the programmers. Besides, they're busy making big, better versions of the iPad, iPod, iMac, and for the nostalgia crowd, Ricky Ricardo's I-Yai-Yai-Yai-Yai! SOOOOOO.....
All is not lost. You could think of this as a bad thing as you miss crucial appointments. Or you can be positive and think of this as an wonderful opportunity to become very wealth. Got fired because you over slept since your alarm is off by hour? Sue! Missed that life changing appointment because of a wayward alarm? Sue! Upset because you're a guy with a girl's name? Sue!
So smile and remember to set that appointment for yourself to fix your iPhone alarm. Just make sure it set for an hour earlier.
All is not lost. You could think of this as a bad thing as you miss crucial appointments. Or you can be positive and think of this as an wonderful opportunity to become very wealth. Got fired because you over slept since your alarm is off by hour? Sue! Missed that life changing appointment because of a wayward alarm? Sue! Upset because you're a guy with a girl's name? Sue!
So smile and remember to set that appointment for yourself to fix your iPhone alarm. Just make sure it set for an hour earlier.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Buying verses living in a tent
There’s nothing like the joys of home ownership in America. You get to spend your almost joyous days collecting the trash and doggie offerings left by your fellow, responsible neighbors. You get to reconsider the value of voting as your friendly neighborhood politician raises your property taxes. (After all, you own a home so you must be well off enough to fund the latest vote-getting project.) And don't forget your ever so helpful bureaucrats at City Hall who justify their jobs by legislating what you can and cannot do with your own property. Add to all of this the recent revelations that banks may not have been as honest in their dealings with you as you hoped they would be.
But we Americans seem to be addicted with buying homes. The latest goings-on in the news almost make you want to reconsider and check into a residential rehab for homeowners who are ready kick the habit. Of course, this means moving into a tent somewhere deep in the woods. But no one said rehabilitation is easy.
But we Americans seem to be addicted with buying homes. The latest goings-on in the news almost make you want to reconsider and check into a residential rehab for homeowners who are ready kick the habit. Of course, this means moving into a tent somewhere deep in the woods. But no one said rehabilitation is easy.
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