I keep checking for updates on Grasshopper No.4's blog and I keep getting the last entry of Nov. 6, 2008. It never changes yet I keep checking it. I think that is the definition of insanity.
Grasshopper No.3 and I belong to an investment club consisting of 8 guys trying to save a little money and then invest it smartly so that we can enjoy retirement some day. It does cause me to ask "what the hell is someone like me who is already retired doing in an investment club"? The answer is I always learn something about finance and being down 34.5% last year leaves me undeterred.
Yesterday No.3 and I met with a local tax specialist who prepares a tax statement for each of our 8 club members. We lost our ass last year and then we have to pay to report it to the government. Last year, we sat down with JW (our tax preparer). He entered our information in his computer system and by the time we left his office, we had a K-1 tax form for each club member. JW really is pretty smooth as he enters data and prepares statements. Last year I made the mistake of asking him about his specialized software system and he stopped entering information and gave Grasshopper No.3 and me a 25 minute dissertation on the merits of different types of software. It was one of those situations where I was sorry I asked. We got way too much information.
This year the plan was not to ask JW any personal questions so that our tax meeting would remain short. Our meeting was for 10:00 AM in the morning. A prior client took until 10:30 AM so we started late. Ten minutes into our tax meeting, JW's computer system failed. It seems that he had an electrician rewiring parts of the office and they must have pulled the wrong wire. So there we are trying to make the meeting go fast and the computer collapses. I had a feeling of stark terror realizing that we could be captured in JW's tax hell forever! Grasshopper No.3 looked at me and I looked at him and we agreed, "do not ask any questions about the problem". If we did it would take longer than forever. The system rebooted in about 15 minutes and we finished at 12:05 PM. Whew!
So like the insanity of checking Grasshopper No.4's blog and never seeing it change, No.3 and I keep going back to the same tax preparer year after year and continue to experience marathon sessions. It is called the land of Oz (insanity). Maybe we ought to change tax preparation services? You think? We won't because the price is low and if we switched, I wouldn't have stories to tell.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that there are clues along the way that insanity is part of your life. You can elect to endure the insanity or you can change it. Good luck.
Love,
Dad
There is a family birthday blitz going on. Dano has a birthday today (Jan.27). My brother Jack has a birthday on Sunday (Feb.1) followed by Grasshopper No.3's (Feb.7) and then the family matriarch Nana's, Feb.11. For Nana it is number 98! Enjoy the moment. Each person is a star for the day. Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Your Mom picked up a brochure in Plymouth published by the Chamber of Commerce. It is their "official visitors and community guide". It is 40 pages of historic facts coupled together with lots of advertising by local businesses.
So I figured that under historic information I'd find mention of the City Club and the role it played in the growth of Plymouth especially in the early to mid-century 1900's. I couldn't find anything. So I looked in the directory in the back of the brochure for directions on finding the City Club. Nope, no mention. Then I went through the publication page by page trying to find a footnote about the City Club and it's role in downtown history. There wasn't even a footnote.
There is no mention of any old time buildings. There is a picture of a 20 foot high fiberglass cow commemorating the City's tie to the cheese making industry. The cow is about as exciting as a 30 foot high ball of twine or the Cow Palace in North Dakota. There are directions to local "bed and breakfast" facilities along with dining establishments. Throw in a few golf courses and mention of Road America and you have a complete guide to ecstasy.
Plymouth of course is living in the moment promoting current businesses and events. The history is interesting but there is absolutely no reason the City Club should dominate any discussion. It played a prominent role in our family for 50 years so it has sentimental value to me.
Like most historical buildings, there is a slow fading into obscurity and alas, no footnote of the City Club in the official Plymouth visitor guide. That is as it should be. Focus on the future.
But for me, the City Club is woven into the fabric of Plmouth and it is there in the brochure. It is written between the lines even though there is no footnote. I can see it!
Stay warm!
Love,
Dad
I understand that the economy is so bad that Hootie is down to one Blowfish!
I learned that you can play country western CD music backwards. Seriously. As the music plays backward you get back your truck followed by your house, your wife (or girl friend) and finally your dog.
I took my "white" Toyota to the car wash yesterday and discovered it is still black. I don't know how long it will remain black because there are still lots of snow covered streets loaded with salt. It is okay because I got the car wash for free. Grasshopper No.3 (and family) gave us coupons to PDQ car wash at Christmas. My question is "does using a free coupon for a car wash stimulate the economy"?
I feel better today because we now have a fresh Presidential team leading the country. Their first order of business was to shut down Guantanamo Bay in Cuba where the alleged terrorists are being held. The terrorists will either be released or moved to a prison near you. Now that is progress! The "team" also made sure that torture techniques have been minimized. Terrorists will no longer be forced to watch old TV reruns of Matlock.
The weak economy has reached Harley Davidson in Milwaukee. That is a big deal because Harley has always symbolized the hardiness of America. They announced they would be laying off a total of 1100 employees. There is some consolation because Harley motorcycles always breakdown and leak oil. The service business should remain strong.
There are only 3 things certain in life. Death, taxes and that Heath Ledger (now deceased) will get the "best supporting actor" for his role as the Joker in for the last installment of Batman.
Our life (Mom and I) is so exciting that we have "slogged" our way through the first season of the TV series of Mad Men given to us on DVDs by Grasshopper No.5. I think there is a season two but I don't know if it is out on DVD. Season three begins this summer. The last session ended with an unwanted pregnancy, blackmail and a suicide. Good stuff!
So go forth and make you mark. Build your fortune. Make the world a little better place. Then retire to quiet desperation. I think I just described life's process.
Stay warm. Hug those close to you.
Love,
Dad
I see by the financial news that the Star Tribune Newspaper has filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in Minneapolis. That means the company can continue to operate under the supervision of a judge until it can restructure it's finances (mainly it's debt). It becomes a troubling period because all employees are uncertain about their future. I know someone who works for the Star Tribune.
Today is the inauguration of Obama. While truly historic in nature, the "press" has put a racial lens on the event which I think diminishes the change of Presidents. I think he represents all people in our country.
I can only speak for myself, but I have benchmarks in my mind about what represents extreme cold. I spent weeks in December with my Grandpa Jiggs and Grandma Helen at their lodge in the north woods of Wisconsin. It was near Cable, Wisconsin. I was probably 10 years old. The weather would go for weeks with below 0 temperatures. My "benchmarks" were a cold walk down a narrowly shoveled path to the two-hole "outhouse". I still remember the crunching snow and not wanting to sit down on the toilet seat. My second benchmark was going to bed at night in the lodge that was heated only my a central pot stove. It got stoked with wood to get really hot before bed (usually 11:00 PM). Then the stove was allowed to burn down to nothing so that by 5:00 AM it was probably in the low 30 degree temps. You didn't want to get out from under the covers. You could see your breath. Damn it was cold!
Mom had lunch with Nana yesterday. Nana reminised about living on the farm as a child and she recalled the cold. Her benchmarks are more stunning than mine. Her family farm house also had a central stove that was stoked in late evening. She slept with her sister in the same bed under layers of wool covers upstairs. The only heat that reached the bedroom came through a hole in the floor by convection. She remembers getting up in the morning and the water was frozen in the glass by the bed. She actually got frostbite on her cheeks and nose. The toes didn't escape the numbing cold including a condition just short of frostbite. Going to school (always walking) didn't help the toes. She remembers sitting around a stove in school with her feet on a medal plate to get heat into the toes. I can't top those memories for cold.
So as your kids jump into warm beds and are driven in a warm car to a temperature controlled school building, I don't have a lot of sympathy even though wind chills are -30 degrees, I can honestly say you don't know what cold is! Just ask Nana.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that we all have "benchmarks" for what cold means to us. I'm sure you can all relate to personal dramatic stories. It defines miserable conditions to you.
Stay Warm.
Love,
Dad
With -17 degree temperatures we have to operate our garage doors manually. That means the inconvenience of getting out of the car each time we leave or return home. I can just hear the chorus of pity responding with "Oooh, you poor thing"!
We have begun to use our Christmas presents. I have rented several DVD's with my gift card from Hollywood Video. We have the Miesfeld Meat gift card poised and ready to go (steaks). The car wash certificates haven't been used because of it is too cold.
The first season of "Mad Men" on DVD's was also a Christmas present. We are half way through the series and it does return the viewer to another time. I wasn't sure I'd like the series but with all the lying, backstabbing, sexual infidelity and greed, what's "not to like"?
I know Grasshopper No.4 and Grasshopper No.5 (she gave us the DVD's) have seen the series. It is set in the late 1950's. Unscrupulous advertising executives scrape and claw their way to fame and fortune.
I have to admit that the smoking habit overwhelms the script. That is the way it was in the late 1950's. It was cool to light up a "cig" and talk smart. I remember business meetings where the room was so filled with smoke, you could hardly see the other side of the room. When my mother (Alice), brother Jack and brother Jerry got together, it was a "smokefest". I can't believe I would be present at their gathering and totally ignor the smoke. Talk about being stupid. The City Club was always filled with smoke. What is a tavern without liquor and cigarettes. Mad Men captures the "haze" of life very well. The cigarettes of the time were Lucky Strike and Old Golds. Yet to come; the Marlboro Man. A carton (with 10 packs of cigarettes) back then cost $2.00. Today one pack of cigarettes costs $4.00.
The Mad Men series also captures the "good old boy" business environment very well. Women were strangers to management ranks and gossip ruled the office.
The cars are vintage 1950's. Oldsmobiles. Buicks. Chryslers. I haven't seen too many Cadillacs. Nope, no Camrys or Nissans.
The music of the 50's is stil the best!
I met your Mom in the 50's.
So the Mad Men series is a trip to yesteryear. It is nostalgic. Interestingly enough, I don't have a lot of desire to go back to "that other time".
Love,
Dad
I love the comic strip Dilbert. Dilbert is really brilliant. He is protrayed as an electrical engineer assigned to a cubical at the office. It is a satire on the absurd decisions that management makes.
The classic Dilbert strip is when he competes with a monkey to keep his engineering job. Alas, Dilbert wins the competition and dances a jig. It is a hollow victory because the pointy haired boss decides to promote the monkey to upper management. So Dilbert loses again and the situation got worse because there are now more monkeys at the top.
Imagine that. Monkeys running an organization. What else could explain why we are bailing out many of the recognizeable companies in America?
Six months ago gasoline was costing $4.11 per gallon. It turns out that there were speculators bidding up oil futures. Now gasoline has fallen to 1.67 per gallon. U.S auto companies could not sell the big SUV's at $4.11 per gallon so they began to target "hybrid" cars as the automobile of the future. You can pay a $4,000 premium for a hybrid car but because gas have dropped so far, people are avoiding hybrids. Car executives are asking Congress to put a huge tax on gasoline to get it back up to the $4.00 per gallon range forcing people to buy hybrids. I don't make this stuff up. We will again be faced with high gas prices by our government so car companies can sell their product. Monkeys are in charge of zoo. Why can't we build quality cars that get good mileage using alternative forms of energy that people really want?
Our government (which is us) is bailing out the auto industry as a reward for their incompetence. There is no good plan for long range profitability and we will continue to bail them out, We will help pay all retiree health and retirement benefits and guarantee jobs for life! The legacy we leave our kids is to pay the debt that never got repaid by the auto companies. Is this a great country or what?
Most people who have worked in business can identify with Dilbert's plight. The wrong person gets promoted. Management makes decisions that defy belief. The last person to be consulted in business is the person doing the job.
So I wait the next Dilbert comic strip. He will forced to carry out decisions made by monkeys at the top. Talk about reality! Wait, I just realized. That isn't funny.
Love,
Dad
I guess that I wasn't meant to escape the recent "flu-bug". My head is stuffed, breathing is heavy and of course my ability to be sarcastic is running high. As Grasshopper No.3 would say, "suck it up. Rub some dirt on it". So that is what I am going to do!
The good news is that the snowstorm that we were supposed to get today passed gently to the south and I don't have to shovel that white sh--.
I watched a movie on TV this afternoon and it was about a young mom with one child dying of cancer. I've seen real life scenerios play out to that same theme in the last year. The movie ended very nicely with everyone being thankful for having known the young mom. I guess the only reason I mention the movie is that they have a "stay in bed all weekend" marathon coming this weekend on Lifetime. I remember my sister Addie acknowledging that sometimes she crawled up on the couch on a weekend and would watch "warm movies" all day Saturday. Because I'm feeling so sh--y, it actually sounds like a good idea.
Now the "look". Grasshopper No.4s wife Jenny admitted that she can move "mountains" with the "look". When she wants a family to do something, the process begins with a glaring stare but no words. If the kids or husband challenge the stare, the "look" can change to disbelief or disgust. Again, no words. The family member ends up with a guilt trip. So the family ends up doing things for mom that they really don't understand. There is this feeling that somebody screwed up and they better fix the problem. Of course Jenny is smiling on the inside because the "look" can motivate beyond discription. I think they should register the "look" as a dangerous weapon and make moms carry an owners permit. Do they hold school for moms to teach them this sh--". I'm teasing Jenny about the "look" but all moms seem to have the mysterious power. There is an implied consequence of sleeping on the couch or the room turning mysterious cold.
There are many forms of the "look". A raising of the the eyebrows indicates disbelief. The "look' can be focused and stern with the mouth turned down to show madness. I have come to recognize most "looks". You know when you are in trouble when Mom is acting strange and you ask "honey, what is wrong"? The answer that brings fear to every family member is "oh nothing". You know something is wrong and an earthquake might occur under you house in the next 24 hours.
I'm going to avoid the subject of sympathy because I have the ugly cold. I might say something that is offensive. I might just do as Addie suggested. I might crawl up on the couch in the basement, turn the heat high and watch touching movies all day (in between NFL playoffs).
Stay warm!
Love,
Dad
A sincere thank you to all for making the belated Christmas holiday enjoyable. As the years pass and each generation develops their own Christmas tradition, it gets harder to get family and friends together at the same time.
Several years ago, Dominic (and his family) was here for Christmas Eve. There was a short drive around the neighborhood to look at decorative lights and wouldn't you know that Santa came while we were out. During the drive, Dominic saw Santa in the sky (I think it was a local aircraft) and sure enough, when we got home there were presents under the tree. For sure, there was a Santa Claus. There was some help from an elf from Minnesota.
On another Christmas, Mom bravely endeavored to orchestrate a "white elephant" gift exchange. People brought gifts that they didn't want and through a raffle process, "off-loaded" them on other family members. What I remember is that the game got very tense when the gifts suddenly didn't end up in the hands of expected members. Emotions ran high but it was a fun time. Everyone sure got into the game.
This Christmas did not have a specific agenda, but as we got near the end of the gift exchange, there were several extra gifts. As usual the "leader of the pack" (your Mom) figured out a way to distribute the gifts using a process making each person disclose something about themselves that nobody else knew on a slip of paper. Everyone had to guess who made the disclosure as it was read to the group. The winning disclosure, "hands down", was Nana's. Her clue was "I'm the best looking gal here"! Very clever for a 97 year old lady. I'm not sure why it took so long to guess because she was obviously right. I think Keely got credit for figuring out it was Nana..
So another holiday season has come an gone. We created memories as Shelby Jr. would say. Bob Hope would always close, as do I, with "thanks for the memories".
Love,
Dad
Starbucks has left the building (Fox River Mall). They only lasted one year. A slow economy spares no one.
Your Mom and I celebrated New Year's Eve by attending the movie Valkyrie (?) with Tom Cruise. He leads a group attempting to assasinate Hitler. Obviously he fails. It was an elaborate plan. I kept thinking that they should have befriended a radical terrorist, strap a few bombs to his body and have him walk right into Hitler's headquarters. Kaboom! That is simple as it gets. Of course you need a willing radical terrorist.
My Grandma Myrna was born on this date (Jan.2,1901). I bet her folks were upset. One day earlier and she might have qualified for the gift celebration heaped on the first baby of the new year. Or she might have been born on Dec.31 and her folks could have taken a Federal Tax Deduction for her. Wait, in 1901 there was no Federal Tax. Now taxes ranges all the way up to 50% of income. We've come a long way baby.
Now the good stuff. The days are getting longer. If we can survive the next 30 days, the sun will begin to feel good again.
Tomorrow is a rescheduled Christmas. Even though it is a really late celebration by "executive decision' because of weather, the people are the same, the renewal of family is great and I understand that Santa even came down the chimney.
One last comment. The New York Press has turned on Brett Favre. Now he has to have minor surgery on his shoulder and then he goes into his Kiln, Mississippi Compound to contemplate whether he wants to play again. Same song, different verse. My prediction is Brett Favre will finally retire. It is not fun being disliked. New York can be brutal.
See you soon!
Love,
Dad