Vote next Tuesday. It is your country. It is your future. It is your kid's future.
Regardless of how the economy is doing, there is hope. Grasshopper No.4 is driving a new (2008) Dodge Avenger. Somebody spent the money. Grasshopper No.1 (and favorite son-in-law) are putting in a new kitchen. There are things like new doorways, new counters, new appliances, new floors, and new ceilings. It must be nice. That will hype the economy.
Grandson Collin is apparently heading for California to get training in "advanced hydraulics" as applied to aircraft. Go Collin!
I have a friend John that I exercise with. He is 82 years old. He told me that when he retired, he was only 62 years. Only 62? He made it sound like a young pup. Then I mentioned I turned 70.5 years of age this year and I had to make mandatory withdrawals from my 401k plan. John indicated that because I was so young, I had to be careful to make sure it lasts my lifetime. At 70.5 years of age, John thinks I'm young. He did say when I get older like him (82), I'd find myself slowing down. So there you have it! I'm young and will transition to "getting older at 82".
Now for some bigger perspective. I watched "60 minutes" last week. One segment was on the life in San Francisco in 1905, the year before the 1906 major earthquake and fire. There was film footage of streetcars in the street and some old Model T Ford cars. The statistic that struck me was in 1905 the average person died at age 47. Now the average age to death is 80. We have come a long way baby.
I am not really sure where I am in the journey of life. I am already 23 years beyond the average age of people in 1905. According to my friend John, I am still young. I have 82 on my radar as a point where I will slow down (according to John). Hmmmm?
The nasty wind is finally gone and the ghosts and goblins will ring our door bell late Sunday afternoon. How could you not like the little darlings? Maybe I could turn off the lights and make believe we are not home.
Stay warm,
Love,
Dad
There was a hit song by The Big Bopper years ago called "Chantilly Lace". The song began with the Bopper receiving a phone call and telling his date what he liked; "Chantilly lace and a pretty face and a pony tail hanging down... oh baby you know what I like". That is your Mom. Chantilly Lace, a pretty face and hair cutely styled.
Mom is back to her sassy ways. She is surfing websites of different dating services looking for a younger man. I guess I look to old for her these days.
My football TV marathon over the weekend was exciting. The UW Badgers eeked out a one point victory over Iowa to keep the season "alive". The Packers survived Favres valiant attempt to pull out a Viking victory. I think you have seen the last of Favre at Lambeau. So I guided the Packers to a 4 point victory. Rumor has it that Grasshopper No.4 and Dominic won their last game on "championship Saturday". Congrats! I guess I couldn't have written a better football script for the weekend.
The forecast for the next couple of days is ugly. High winds, rains, potential power outages. The good news is that it isn't snow. Tie down the dog.
Just a note on my M&I bank saga. I had received notice that my checking account would be charged $25 per month if I didn't carry a $5,000 daily balance. I called the bank and was told that because I did various banking services through them, I was consided a preferred private customer. They valued my business. My checking account would continue to be free. Now I know what it feels like to be a "big cheese".
Stay dry.
Love,
Dad
First I have acknowledge the "spirit" that controls my blog. She lives in Minneapolis. She is the "period at the end of the sentence" marking the end of our immediate family. Grasshopper No.1 opened the family saga in 1960 and the birth of Grasshopper No.5 ended it. Grasshopper No.5 had a birthday yesterday. I told her she now is one third the age Nana was when she passed away. No.5 has two thirds of her life in front of her. I will not give her age but 1977 is memorable. Happy Birthday No.5.
I finally have a weekend where I can "vegetate on the couch". We have been going to UW Badger games or traveling throughout Minnesota on recent weekends. The highlight will be when the Favre Circus invades Lambeau on Sunday night. No phone calls please.
Now "follow the clues". My local M&I Bank sent me a notice of new fees covering checking accounts. It seems that unless I carry $5,000 minimum balance in my checking account, I will incur a $25 per month administrative fee. My quick math says that suddenly I need $300 per year to write checks. Well, I've got a news alert! It ain't going to happen. Our credit union has a pretty good deal. So clue number one is my checking account rates are going up suggesting M&I is having trouble making money through traditional ways.
Clue No.2 is that M&I reported losing only $128 million last quarter. Relax. That is better than the $256 million loss from the same period last year. Hmmmm! The bank is losing money because of bad management and I incur new fees. This isn't rocket science folks.
Clue No.3 is that Chairman of the Board of M&I is retiring suddenly but will remain on the Board. That is another way to move an ineffective leader out of the way. There is tension in the executive ranks. So the Chairman will retire, get his big retirement package and my checking account fees are going up. Yep, there is definitely a connection.
Clue No.4 is that a recent press release acknowledges that M&I expanded outside it's sphere of comfort by buying banks in Florida and Arizona. Guess where the biggest exposure to losses due to poor real estate investments exist. By golly, it happens to be Florida and Arizona. So the "brain trust" in the executive row positioned the Bank for big losses. Do you think those decisions affected my checking account?
M&I Bank isn't the only financial institution struggling to return to profitability. I just don't think they should "stick it to the little guy" (that is me). The lesson Grasshoppers is to stay vilgilant concerning charges associated with your banks, credit unions and credit card companies. They are planning to get deeper into your pockets.
Love,
Dad
The stage was set for a fantastic football game in Madison last Saturday. The UW Badgers were highly touted in pre-season predictions but having lost to Michigan State, they needed to prove themselves. Ohio State came in rated No.1 in the country. The weather for the night game was in the high 60's F. with a calm wind. Remember this was October 16. The game began with the Badgers running the opening kick-off back for a touchdown to start the game. I don't remember 82,000 people being so exuberant; ever. The atmosphere was "electric". The energy in the stadium could have powered the city of Madison for a month. The last time the Badgers beat a No.1 rated team was 1981 (Michigan to start the season). I was there. Kelly was in the Marching band. Saturday I was there again for the dethroning of No.1. Grasshopper No.3 got to "high five" every touchdown with the crowd around us. And Grasshopper No.4 (who brags about all the great contests he has witnessed) actually turned down a free ticket. What was Grasshopper No.4 thinking. Maybe the biggest game in 29 years!
Grasshopper No.4 lives for football. He attends Tommy's games. He coaches youth football and Dominic is on his team He is the official statistician for Friday Night Lights North High football games. He attends freshman games for North High. Grasshopper No.4 has been known to attend one or two UW games each year. And then, there is Green Bay Packers football on Sundays. You get the idea. For Grasshopper No.4 to turn down the ticket for Ohio State (rated No.1) defies explanation. Of course the concepts of "overload" and "family time" come to mind.
I predict that the Badgers will go to Iowa next Saturday and "get stuffed". In the mean time, bragging for one week is fun and optimism springs eternal. Go Bucky.
Enjoy the weather.
Love,
Dad
The Major League baseball playoffs have begun and the Minnesota Twins got beat three straight by the Yankees. Minnesota's season is over (again). A bigger story is that the Texas Rangers are having a great year and have now advanced to slay the New York "dragon". Josh Hamilton plays for the Rangers and is an alcoholic. As a player, he may be the most gifted athlete in the game. If he so much as tastes alcohol, he goes off on a binge. He has "0" tolerance for alcohol. When the Rangers won their first series against Tampa Bay, the celebration would normally be with champagne. Lots of bottles. Lots of spray and dumping over team mates heads. Because the team mates are aware of Hamilton's sensitivity to alcohol, the celebration was with ginger ale soda. Finally, a feel good story about people in sports.
Nobody asked me but I imagine what life would be trapped in a mine in Chile with 80-90 degree temperatures in the dark and not knowing whether you would ever see the light of day again. Then I imagine what it would be like having a wife and 4 mistresses waiting for me to be rescued. It is the 4 mistresses that could be particularly difficult (the wife already said the marriage is over). Then I imagine my wife and 4 mistresses knowing that I stand to make lots of money for my story. Maybe millions of dollars. Then I imagine all the fighting and lawsuits that will take place. I would ask myself, "how could I be so stupid". Finally, the whole "love issue" will play out on National TV. Maybe I would just stay down in the mine.
Today your Mom and I are going to see the movie Secretariat at the local movie theater. The Regal Cinema was bought by Marcus Theaters and we are not sure whether it is closed for refurbishing or not. The movie is supposed to be very good.
Tomorrow it is UW Badgers against No.1 Ohio State at Camp Randall. Does it get any better. Forcast is 70 degrees in Madison tomorrow and clear. It is an early evening start.
Finally, nobody asked me but Brett Favre is whinning about a sore elbow. I am sure the pain is bad but he is talking about missing 1-2 games after starting 289 consecutive NFL contests. Come on! Brett Favre not starting? I bet people believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause too.
Have a nice weekend.
Love,
Dad
In the early 1980's, Individual Retirement Accounts (IRA's) became available. It was the Federal Government's partial answer to the impending Social Security problems. The theory was that if more people saved tax deferred money on their own, Social Security would become less important. 401(k)s came along shortly thereafter where your employer set aside tax deferred W-2 earnings on your behalf.
This month I turn 70.5 years of age. When I hit that magic age, I must begin the process of withdrawing some of the 401k money. Each dollar withdrawn must be added to my taxable income this year. Required withdrawal amounts to about 4% of the total 401k funds this year and increases gradually so that if I live to 115 years of age, I must pull out more that 50% of what is remaining.
The theory has been that if you deferred paying taxes on your W-2 earnings and invested it, you would have more money to invest and you would have more in retirement. How is that working for you? Since the year 2000, the stock market has averaged a 1.58% loss each year. So for the last 10 years, our tax deferred money has gone down in value, not up.
Here is the scoop. Social Security will not have a cost of living increase this year so I have to live on the same income next year. My insurance costs are going up because of Obamacare. I need to withdraw money from my 401k because I turned 70.5 and I have to add it to my current income and pay taxes on it. I'm not sure what current insurance benefits I receive will be added to taxable income next year but I'm sure the Washington establishment will inform me soon! "Pass the collection plate"..
The good news is that I did put a few dollars into a 401k over 20 years. The bad news is that it actually has a negative growth the last ten years. The good news is that I lived to 70.5 to be able to begin mandatory withdrawal of deferred 401k account. The bad news is that income taxes on the 401k funds withdrawn is due.
The rules regarding management of deferred 401k and IRA accounts is very complex. The tax booklet explaining the rules is over 100 pages long. The lesson Grasshoppers is that you owe it to yourself to learn the 401k and IRA rules that affect you. You should maximize potential benefits to you. Don't let the Government do it for you?
Who would have believed that turning 70.5 would be significant? What else is going to happen to me?
Love,
Dad
It seems like the inmates are running the asylum. Four to five years ago Brett Favre got mad at Ted Thompson for not bidding for Randy Moss. Moss was the wide receiver who rubbed his ass mockingly on the goal post taunting the Green Bay Packers years ago. Thompson did not pay the steep price to get Moss and Mr. Favre was pissed. Eventually Favre retired and the incident faded away. But wait, Mr. Favre (one of the inmates) decided to un-retire and now he has talked the Minnesota Vikings into buying Moss' (a looney inmate) contract. We have a marriage made in heaven. Favre got what he wanted. It tells you who is running the asylum. Some ego's tend to transend the game. Favre has one of those egos. Now if the God of Irony unleashes his sense of humor, Moss will pull a hamstring on his first play from scrimmage.
A quick note on bugs. There appears to be a developing epidemic on bed bugs. My mother would say "Night night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite". Because I have never seen a bed bug or been part of an infestation, I thought bed bugs were fiction. No, they are real. Some major cities and some pretty classy hotels (the Hotel Waldorf Astoria) have run into problems. From what I've learned, you don't want to have to deal with killing bed bugs. They do bite.
Wait, there is more. A friend had her two children sent home from school with head lice. Again I never personally experienced head lice but I understant that having them is a "bad trip". Teachers are trained to isolate the kid with head lice immediately. There are special shampoos requiring several hours of special treatment to clear up the lice. Then all clothes, bedding and outerwear must be washed. I understand just wearing someone else's hat will transfer the little critters.
So now between advisory's against some vacinations, flu shots, bed bugs and head lice, we have got a lot to worry about. It makes a $ 1 trillion dollar Federal governoment stimulus package seem like a minor problem.
The Favre/Moss circus comes to town Sunday night, Oct. 24. Get out those No. 4 jerseys!
Love,
Dad
We recently ended our Minnesota trip by swinging through Minneapolis. We got to visit with Grasshopper No.5. As you know, her job is to make available entertainment information through the Star Tribute website or in publications with the newspaper. She knows what is "happening in Minneapolis".
When she took us to eat at one of the finer McDonalds dining facilities, I noticed a "script" tattoo on No.5's wrist. Why am I always the last to know what is going on? She hid the script cleverly, but my keen eyesight ferreted out the new message. I'm told the translation is "breathe".
Do people really need a reminder to breathe? Apparently it helps when your life is full of anxiety; you can look at your wrist, heed the advice of your critically positioned tattoo and remember to take a deep breath. It will bring you into the moment and you can deal with the chaos at hand.
So, when the electrical system in your Mini-Cooper pukes for the third time, look at your wrist and remember to breathe. When you are informed your parents are coming to spend the weekend, you'll remember to take a deep breath. When your Dad subtly asks you about the people in your life, taking a special breath is necessary. You get the idea
Actually, Grasshopper No.5 was a gracious host. As for needing a reminder on her wrist to breathe at critical times, that is her perrogative. We had a nice visit and even got to see a rock and roll theatrical performance.
So, last Sunday as No.5's parents rolled out of town for home, she looked at her wrist and all was well. She could breathe.
Love,
Dad
I have spent a great deal of time blogging about my family history. Last week was a visit to your Mom's "side" of the family. Because Nana was one of nine children, the number of names and relationships is overwhelming.
We journeyed to Moorhead, Minnesota. It is really a suburb of Fargo, North Dakota. It is the home of Nana's sister Lois. Lois was a gracious host and she arranged for some members of the Kruschke clan to join us.
It starts with Nana's Dad. His name was Otto. He had a girl friend in New Ulum. Otto went to the girl's Dad and asked for her hand in marriage. The Dad said "no". The reason for rejecting Otto is that he was "an immigrant". It was a blatant case of discrimination. Otto and his sister had fled Germany's war machine by coming to America. I think Otto was 14 years old at the time. The irony is that Otto's girl friend was name Reike and her family had immigrated to America in previous years. The "Otto the immigrant" story was told over and over and over. Otto ultimatedly triumphed. He became a carpenter and eventually owned his own 600 acre farm. Not bad for a young man in a new country.
Next I became aware that the Kruschke clan is inundated with teachers. We visited Nana's sister Lois who was a teacher. Lois' deceased husband Chet was a teacher. Lois had her daugher Barbara join us. Yep, she is a retired teacher. Barb's husband was a teacher. Lois' son Keith was a teacher as was his wife. We were joined by Lois' nephew Marlyn, a retired teacher along with his wife Peggy, a retired teacher. Teachers, teachers everywhere.
The trip out west through Minnesota consisted of 70 mph speed limits, straight roads and flat farm fields. Trucks were passing me doing 85 mph.
Did I mention that we encountered rain. It rained the day we arrived. It rained the day we visited and it rained on the way to Minneapolis.
So my memories of Nana's family will be of "Otto the immigrant", a farming legacy and an evolution to a family of teachers. The trip put a "face" on some of Nana's stories.
And now, home sweet home.
Love,
Dad