The Dilemma of Convenience

My OCD went into hyperdrive today at the grocery.

My Kroger (that I call "Krogerville" because it's so big it should have its own zip code) offers two sizes of shopping carts: the standard big one and a shorter, two-tier, smaller one. I appreciate the smaller ones because I'm too short to unload the larger ones easily. I usually find one in the parking lot and push it inside the store because there are times when all the smaller ones are outside.

It's nice to have the choice, but the choice presents a big problem in the parking lot "Cart Corrals."

Unthinking people often just shove their empty carts into the Corrals, willy-nilly, order and symmetry be damned, with big ones looking all sideways and catty-wampus, or smaller ones shoved haphazardly into larger ones. Or, worse, they just shove the carts in the general direction of the Corrals, not caring whether the carts actually get into the Corrals. And don't get me started on the trash left in the carts!

I'm usually able to ignore all that disorder by just closing my eyes to it and scurrying back to my car.

Today, however, something in my growing-feebler-by-the-day brain snapped, and I found myself straightening not one, but TWO messy Corrals.  I worked up a pretty good sweat, but at least I didn't draw a crowd of puzzled onlookers.

The Corrals looked much more orderly, and my blood pressure quickly dropped back down to its normal as a result.

I may need professional help.

Cruz Out, Kasich Out . . .

. . . it looks like it's time to start thinking about lemonade.

Planned Obsolescence?

Rant alert.

I've been pussyfooting around a two-year old LG refrigerator repair issue for a week now (The fridge is two, not the repair issue. Yet.)  Our wonderful repair guy told me that he doesn't work on LGs anymore because it's too hard to get parts, and suggested I find a factory authorized repairman since the problem may still be under warranty. 

I Googled "factory authorized repairs LG" and got some pretty shady-sounding results. Then I went on the LG website "find a repairman" page. Entered my zip code (in Little Rock, Arkansas) and got "No data available." Next, I called Home Depot, where we bought the fridge, for recommendations where I was told, "We don't do repairs if you didn't purchase an extended warranty from us," which we didn't because major appliances should function as intended for many, many years. 

Back to the LG site; found a number for Customer Service (where my call was very important to them, so I should please enjoy this lovely music for awhile) and ultimately got to chat with a very pleasant young lady named Michelle who sounded as if she were somewhere on the sub-continent. She walked me through the script and ultimately found two authorized repairmen "in my area" -- one is in Sherwood; the other is in Joplin, MO. Sherwood will have to do.

*deep sigh*

I guess the moral of the story is: next time go with something other than LG. Even if Michelle is very friendly and somewhat helpful.

Or move to Joplin.

Moogie is Dog-Tired

Today is a "Poor Moogie" day. I had a little minor surgery on a toe yesterday, and today it really hurts!

I also lost about a gallon of blood when I left the doc's office and stopped by the drug store to pick up some prescription refills. When I stepped out of the car, it felt as if I had stepped into a puddle. Well, I suppose that, technically, I had -- it just happened to be a puddle of my own blood in my shoe. Gross.

So, I high-tailed it back to the doc's, where his sweet nurse cleaned me up and applied pressure to that stubborn bleeder. Pressure didn't work, so the good doc cauterized it. When cauterization was first mentioned, I pictured a soldering iron, but, fortunately, he used silver nitrate instead. I was really glad because smelling barbecued Moogie wasn't on my to-do list for the day.

Sweet Nurse called me mid-afternoon on her lunch break to check on me. She said she just wanted to make sure that my toe hadn't fallen off, or that I hadn't bled out. Heh. I thought it was very thoughtful of her to check on my well-being.

So, today, all the anesthetic has worn off and I've been walking around on it too much. Therefore, I do believe I shall take to the couch with my Kindle and a tootsie-propping pillow in anticipation of cocktail hour.

Oh, and Happy National Dog Day!!!

Video Publish Fail. Really Cute Video, Too.

Well, shoot. I couldn't get the video to transfer from Facebook. Maybe I can get Pepper to publish it to YouTube later. Sorry.

Pepper and Bouie went to Duck Camp yesterday to do a little work on the house.

(The girls were left at home to take care of Mom. And they weren't particularly happy about it.)

When it was time to play, Pepper sent Bouie off in search of quail. Here is the intrepid hunter, having a ball. Not bad for a guy who'll turn 9 years old next week:


It makes my heart smile to see him so happy.

Good boy!

One Small Victory for Common Sense

Well, we can take some small comfort in the DoD's decision not to file charges against the Marines who fired at the Chattanooga Religion of Peace murderer. (See Post from August 3, 2015)

Perhaps there has been an outbreak of common sense in the Pentagon. Let's hope it goes viral, not only in the Pentagon, but all around the Beltway and its environs.

I wouldn't hold my breath, however. You-Know-Who is still the Commander in Chief.

A Sign of the Times: Specialization

The garbage truck broke our big green monster trash can -- almost cut it in half. When I called the nice 311 lady last week, she said someone would bring us a new one in a week or two. It arrived this morning before the trash pickup. 

The delivery guy moved our trash from the old one to the new one and hauled off the old one. Clearly the can-deliverer cannot also be a trash-hauler. 

This scenario kind of reminds me of the time I had a flat tire on the Bonnet Carre Spillway bridge. USAA sent a tow truck to get me off the bridge because Roadside Assistance doesn't change tires on bridges. The driver hauled me to a "safe place" then took off because tow truck drivers don't change tires. So I had to wait for the tire changer. A long time.

Who knew the flat tire, and sanitation, industries were so specialized?

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT du Jour

There will be no discussion, observation, or opinion offered on the state of any Jenner, Kardashian, West, or their ilk on this blog.

You're Welcome.

Poking a Stick at the Grammar Beast

This is one that grates on my soul. Isn't it sad how the language mutates when people are too lazy -- or too stupid -- to learn the correct way to say/spell its words.

I dunno. I kinda like "aporkchop."

I think we'll have some aporkchops for dinner tonight.

So, It's Still Boehner. Yay.

Let's hope he can learn what to do with it.

*sigh*

More Good News From Your Governments

So now it seems that, to protect their citizens from their own folly, many cities are banning -- wait for it -- SLEDDING!!!

As a lawyer, I can appreciate the potential liability issues, but as an American citizen and adult human being, I detest being treated like a child. There, there, little lady. Don't tax your pretty little head -- let us do the thinking for you. After all, we know best.

Just consider the near-impossibility of enforcing such an overreaching law. It would do no good to ban the sale of actual sleds -- kids are creative and can turn most anything into a makeshift snow glider.We used to use trash can lids when I was a kid. And somebody's always got cardboard.

And, what's the penalty for engaging in said banned activity? Throw gleeful schoolkids in the hoosegow?

Sheesh. No one overthought this nifty little idea, huh.

Farewell, Rosebud and American Flyer.

We're doomed.

At Loose Ends Here

I'm kind of in a funk. Just kind of antsy for some unknown reason.

And I'm seriously sick and tired of governments getting more and more involved with the minutiae of daily living. Take Dallas, for example.

On New Year's Day, a new ordinance took effect in Dallas that imposes a new "environmental fee" on paper and plastic bags used to transport purchases made at retail stores.  Five cents per bag! The "fee" purports to be a means to reduce litter and the customer is permitted to bring his own reusable bags or purchase them from the merchant. AP reports, "The Dallas rules have sparked some confusion. But officials say the idea is to encourage shoppers to bring their own, reusable bags — thus avoiding the new fees."

I'm sorry, but this sounds like a "nudge" to "encourage" sanctioned behavior and a revenue generator all rolled into one handy-dandy rule. A tax by any other name . . . .

So, I think I'll go along with Calvin in the upcoming year:

Gee, I miss Calvin and Hobbes.

And, I need a hug.

There's a Whole Lot of Back-scratching Going on in DC

Lest you think that government entities don't "talk" to one another out of some misguided desire to maintain citizens' privacy, allow me to share this little tidbit and disabuse you of that Utopian notion.

Pepper and I are doing a re-fi on Moogie's Manor. Our lender set it up to qualify to run through Fannie Mae (and Fannie Mae is not even a real federal government entity, you understand) for secondary market purposes. To make her happy and feed her enormous ego, one must submit some thirty-odd pages of Application to Miss Mae, including one's most recent tax return.

Here's where it starts getting a little complicated.

Due to some investments and partnerships, we always get an extension to file our 1040s until October. This means the last Returns we have on hand at present are for 2012. Not 2013. Fannie Mae was not happy about this. Even though she has nothing to do with collecting taxes, she wanted to talk to her buddies over at the IRS to be sure we had filed an actual Extension and weren't just slacking and failing to file. She scratches her IRS-Bud's back and they scratch something of hers. I mean, the revenue we pump into the IRS is shared by the whole government, right?

Anyway, there's some silly federal rule designed to protect the privacy of we insignificant citizens, and Fannie Mae isn't permitted to talk to Internal Revenue without the citizen's permission. So, she has a handy-dandy form that the citizen "may" sign that says, in essence, "Sure! You gubmint guys chat about me and share anything about me with one another that your nosy little bureaucratic hearts desire! Live it up!"

Let's stop here briefly to reflect upon the fact that Fannie Mae has nothing to do with collecting or disbursing or determining the amount of taxes that anyone pays. Let's further reflect upon the fact that whether you file your tax returns has nothing to do with whether you can re-pay a loan.

Then let's think about the fact that your loan application will be peremptorily rejected if you refuse to authorize Miss Mae to snoop into your IRS records to satisfy her overactive curiosity and/or to give her ammunition to rat your slacking butt out to the IRS. Even though she has zero to do with taxes!

Did we sign it? Well, duh. (But only after a colorful rant about crony government and Big Brother by my roommate.) Just don't let yourself be fooled into believing that there's a functional firewall among government entities that protects we, the people.

And do not get Pepper started on Fannie Mae. He's been mumbling something about a class action lawsuit.

What Happens When They're Out on Their Own?

I must say that our kids are not "helicopter parents." They have had their overly-protective moments, of course, but they definitely don't hover. Heck, The Son even put 6 year-old #3 on a transatlantic flight to Switzerland with a mild concussion in June. (In his defense, however, his wife's Aunt, a medical physician, gave the ok, and flew with them).

But I have seen many, many young parents hover to beat the band, and the various federal and local governments only reinforce and enable that kind of behavior with their overreaching legislation and regulations. So, this cartoon which appeared in our Sunday newspaper tickled my funny bone:

Sad for the kid. I didn't just pat my kids on the head when they got hurt, but I did usually treat any and every injury with a baggie of ice cubes, and maybe a little peroxide. Unless it looked like stitches might be required. Usually. Ice is the Miracle Remedy, after all!

I've often said that you can't legislate good parenting or manners. Perhaps I was mistaken.

Overload. Heading to the Deck.

So.

Human jackals are looting the crash site of the MalaysianAir passenger plane, shot down with missile fire by who knows.  There is escalated ethnic cleansing of Christians in Iraq by ISIS, without comment from the Obama administration.  On the same day, within hours of one another, two federal Circuit Courts issued conflicting rulings on Obamacare's individual mandate and premium subsidies, thus suggesting an expedited hearing by the Supreme Court on the law's future with a scary, unpredictable CJ Roberts in the fold. And my babiest baby has yet to recover emotionally from having to put her precious pup, Zeus, down.

And, it appears that chipmunks love to devour green cherry tomatoes.  Even those planted in containers. Alvin has ceased to be cute.

Have I mentioned how very peaceful is the view from my back deck when the trees are leafed out?

Thankfully.

Adventures in Suffrage

Being good citizens, Pepper and I registered to vote in Arkansas at the same time we got our new drivers' licenses last summer.

A month or so ago we received Address Confirmation Cards from the Orleans Parish Voter Registrar that had been forwarded from our old address at Moogie's Mansion in New Orleans.

We also received Address Confirmation Cards for Elder Daughter and Younger Daughter, using their maiden names. Daughters haven't lived in Louisiana since 2004, but Younger Daughter has been summoned to Jury Duty several times since she moved. Each time she has contacted the Registrar (as well as the summoning court) to tell them that she doesn't live and vote in New Orleans anymore so she won't be showing up for Jury Duty any time soon, thank you very much.

Anyway, Pepper and I decided to help out Registrar Sandra Wilson, PH.D., (her credentials, as noted on the form, in capital letters) by returning the Confirmation Cards, noting our new address, and writing in large letters, "Moved to Arkansas." In block letters, not even cursive. We assumed she would remove us from the Voter Registration Roster, posthaste.

Nope.

Today, all four of us received another Address Confirmation Card from Ms. Wilson, Ph.D, requesting that we verify our address. The address we were asked to confirm inside the mailing was the old Moogie's Mansion address. The address on the outside of the mailing was our current address in Arkansas at the Manor.

*sigh*

In her epistle, Ms. Wilson, Ph.D., notes that, if we fail to return the card by December 10, 2016, we "may be removed from the voter registration list." MAY be removed. In 2016. After the next presidential election.

Theoretically, Moogie could vote for the next President both in Arkansas and Louisiana. Louisiana requires voters to show a government-issued photo ID before one may cast a ballot. (Arkansas' voter ID law has recently been declared unconstitutional and is under appeal at present.) Even though we now have Arkansas drivers' licenses, this requirement would not pose an impediment to voting in Louisiana for Moogie and Pepper as we both have retired military IDs bearing our smiling faces and no address.

Of course, we all know that Moogie and Pepper are beyond ethical, so we would never do something like that. I can't say that would hold true for every other "displaced" Louisiana voter, however. (There are special instructions for "involuntarily displaced" voters.)

I'd say that Ms. Wilson, Ph.D, might want to do a little training for her data entry folks.

*sigh*

Civil War Within the First Amendment

I most emphatically do not share the views on race that Clippers' owner, Donald Sterling, expressed in a recorded private conversation. If given the chance to get to know Mr. Sterling personally, I probably wouldn't care much for him and would choose not to associate with him for many reasons. From the revelations of recent events alone, one can discern that he's not just a racist, he's a cheating, bullying, misogynistic racist.

That said, the death sentence and pay-for-your-own-execution imposed upon him today by the NBA disturbs me. I think it has to do with the evolving trend to consider one person's opinion as more important than another's; one person's "feelings" being more worthy of validation than another's. Political Correctness.

The First Amendment to the US Constitution protects the rights of American citizens with respect to: the establishment and free exercise of religion; a free press; the right to assemble peacefully and to associate with whomever they please without interference from government; the right to contact government representatives; and the right to free expression.  (Wikipedia.)

What the NBA did today, essentially, elevated the opinions and feelings of a group of people above Sterling's. Mr. Sterling should be allowed to express his opinions -- especially in private -- no matter how reprehensible they may be. But, here's where it gets a little complicated -- others, who do not share his views, have the right not to associate with him. This includes the NBA.

Perhaps that's how the issue should be framed -- we do not desire to associate and do business with a man who adheres to a doctrine with which we do not concur. If this is what the Commissioner intended to relate in his press conference, it didn't come across that way. Commissioner Silver stated that the League had determined "the hateful feelings are those of Mr. Sterling.The views of Mr. Sterling are deeply disturbing and alarming." Hateful feelings.

Condemning someone's feelings because they differ from yours, and rendering someone else's feelings superior, is just one step ahead of creating a Thought Police Force. Isn't "diversity" one of the goals of modern society? Shouldn't that include diversity of thought?

Maybe I'm making too much of it, but the tone of the whole kerfuffle gives me the creeps. Maybe my Inner Libertarian has surfaced.

By the way, does anyone else find it amusing that Mr. Silver condemned Mr. Sterling? Maybe Mr. Silver is just jealous that he's merely plated and not solid sterling.

Sorry. Someone had to say it.

And, does anyone else wonder where the coverage of John Kerry's gigantic gaffe concerning Israel (also uttered in private) might have gone?

Young, Foolish, and Felonious

My goodness. Moogie seems to have been the Negative Nellie the past few posts.

I don't see that changing today.

It's just that there is sooooo much stupidity out there. And so much of the stupid originates in the criminal justice system.

It seems that Arkansas has a relatively new law making it a felony to "exchange sexually explicit material involving anyone under the age of 17" or to distribute, possess or view "matter depicting sexually explicit conduct involving a child." Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.

Now, don't get me wrong -- I don't have a problem with the law, per se. It's a perfectly acceptable function of government to protect children from  those who would exploit them, for whatever reason.  But, when government uses laws like this to punish children, it overreaches that function and sets young people on a dangerous path that can affect them for the rest of their lives.

Yep, the Jacksonville Police busted three young teenagers who had been "sexting" with one another and charged them with felonies. The sexted videos had been messaged to other kids, too. The kids are a 14 year-old boy and two girls, ages 13 and 14. In other words, they are young enough to be daredevils, ignorant of the law, and foolish.

I have a problem with enforcing laws upon a class of people the laws were designed to protect -- in this case, children under 17 years of age. At least the kids were charged in Juvenile Court instead of County Criminal Court. Hopefully the Juvy Judge will find a way to make this felony expungeable so these kids aren't stamped with a Scarlet "Felon" from the get-go and for the rest of their lives. Their reputations are already trashed. Even if the offense was committed by their own doing, they need to be made aware of the ramifications of the transgression without bearing the full clout of a felony.

The Legislature needs to work on this statute a bit -- give it some much-needed tweaking. But, oh nooooooo. They're too busy debating critical matters like the constitutionality of requiring Voter ID and whether we should have more biking paths.

Help!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where is Ernestine When You Really Need Her?

We recently received in the snailmail an Explanation of Benefits from Aetna in connection with Pepper's little "procedure" back in December.  We received it a little late because, once again, it was mailed to Moogie's Mansion in New Orleans instead of to the Manor, here in Little Rock.

Pepper had tried to change the address several times online, but his attempts apparently never took.  So, with that vein in his forehead throbbing to beat the band, he "suggested" that perhaps it would be wise if I called Aetna to speak to a human being about the address change instead of subjecting said human being to the wrath of Pepper.

Thus, this afternoon, beginning at approximately 1:23 pm, I spent 15 minutes on hold with Aetna (2 full minutes of which were responding to prompts to push a certain number for a certain service). Then, after acquiring a live human being at long last, I was sweetly informed that Aetna doesn't accept changes of address; I'd need to do that through Pepper's former employer, Entergy.  Would I like her to give me that number?

No, Sweet-voiced Young Lady. I'd rather just take my chances feeding random numbers into the phone.  Of COURSE I'd like to have that number!

Then she had to put me on hold to find the number.

*sigh*

Once I was armed with the number to Entergy's HR & Benefits Department, I climbed up the next phone-prompts tree of pushing a certain number for a certain service. Fortunately I wasn't put on hold this time for too long, and was soon speaking to a very nice lady whose name I won't even attempt to spell.   As she was typing away on the changes, we chatted about the differences between New Orleans and Arkansas, and I bade her Happy Mardi Gras as we hung up at 2:01.

So that's how my afternoon has gone.  And here's how I feel about that:

TAKE THE FLIPPING ON-HOLD RECORDING AND FINE TUNE IT!!!!! Listen to it yourself every now and then to hear how it sounds.  If it's so scratchy and garbled that it sounds like it's being played on a Gramophone, FINE TUNE IT!!!!  CHOOSE SOME BETTER BACKGROUND MUSIC!!!!  Elevator music is for elevators from which you're fairly certain that you will be escaping shortly. DO NOT TELL ME REPEATEDLY THAT MY CALL IS "VERY IMPORTANT" TO YOU!!!!!!!! The fact that you've had me on hold for eons is proof positive that you don't give a good diddly squat about me or my call. If you insist on regularly interrupting the lovely background music, and getting my hopes up that I'm on the brink of speaking to a human being, simply tell me that you remain cognizant that I exist and am on hold in your queue; don't court me with your declarations of my import.

Whew. I feel better now.

I'd feel even better if businesses would just return to the days of having switchboard operators -- the sources of all information. Or, at least the repository of everybody's business.

Presidents' Day PTSD

Presidents' Day will probably never be the same after 2016.  If there are future presidents.  I mean, other than the Emperor who occupies the White House at present.  I just don't see him willingly packing up and moving on. There's still a lot of Hope and Change to be bulldozed out there, and he is so very skilled at operating the bulldozer.

In just a few short years he has managed to throw a sixth of the nation's economy into turmoil with a few deft strokes of his magic Executive Order pen.  I ran into an old friend at last week's wedding who recently retired from the health insurance biz. She says she left just in time -- clients have been increasingly asking her what's going to happen to this or that provision under Obamacare, and what's the cost going to be for this or that policy, and the only answer she could give them was, "I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't KNOW!!!"

Apparently neither does the White House. Nor Congress.

So, on this Presidents' Day, to let the current occupant of the West Wing know what we think of him, I think we should encourage him to stay in good health by exercising.  Toward that end, we should send him a little gift -- how about a warm-up suit made by a small American company that sells its products in France?  Here is the label that provides cleaning instructions:

Don't you think he'll love it!

Quick!  Someone hide the keys to the heavy equipment!