Category Life

The Last Minute – A Special Piece of Real Reality

Michael Leave a comment

Regular readers know that Real Reality strikes on Mondays and Thursdays.  If you didn’t know that it doesn’t make you irregular.  You just have to read more often.  And/or more regularly.  Anyway, for this to show up on a Wednesday you know it must be something special.  Well, tomorrow is something special so that could make today special too.  It certainly makes today down to the wire.  (No race track analogies in 2015.  Three in a row are plenty for any couple of years!)

Regular readers also know that in Realityville, Christmas Eve is not a shopping day.  Christmas Eve has enough of its own tasks and charges.  You have had plenty of shopping days going back to Black Friday Eve (aka Thanksgiving).  Ask any major retailer.  If you’re not done by now you are on your own.  But don’t bother asking any major retailer.  They lie.

Back to Christmas Eve.  Don’t you have more Christmassy things to do today than shopping anyway?

There are Christmas Eve dinners to attend to.  Is the most recognizable Christmas Eve dinner the Feast of the Seven Fishes?  Perhaps so.  An Italian tradition on a day that Italian Catholics abstain from meat, this vigil meal will be served in many households.  In Eastern Europe, many cultures add a couple more meatless dishes to their Christmas Eve dinner to make nine or eleven choices.  Russians prepare twelve selections of fish and grains.  In Germany and Austria, Christmas Eve may be spent preparing carp, potatoes, and salads for dinner after sundown.

You’re not a big eater you say?  Then you’ll probably spend today wrapping all the presents you carefully selected and bought with plenty of time to get under the tree before Christmas.  Did you know that, television families with piles of beautifully wrapped presents under their trees weeks before the big day excepted, most holiday wrapping happens on Christmas Eve.  Much of the gifts planned for destinations outside the home if not wrapped sometime on Christmas Eve, usually during cooking breaks, are wrapped the day before and sometimes the day of the planned giving.

If you happen to be reading this in Sweden you aren’t wrapping your gifts today.  You’ll be unwrapping them since the day you exchange Christmas presents is today!  That would be in Sweden and many other countries where the wrapping happened yesterday in anticipation of exchanging them on Christmas Eve.

In Australia where it’s nice and warm today, many people will be out caroling this evening.  While singing they will light candles together hoping for a clear night that their light can join the stars.

And if your wrapping and cooking and eating and singing all get done early and you are still looking for something to do besides more shopping, today would be a good day to thank God for getting us all through another year.

Merry Christmas.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

Some People’s Children

Michael Leave a comment

If you aren’t yet you should be looking forward to the day when you become the parent of an adult child.  Oh when you get down to it they really aren’t all that much different from the non-adult child.  Your parenting skills will still be questioned but then, so will their childrening skills.  Many of the issues you already faced yourself.  Most of the problems will be expected, if not actually anticipated, or at least remembered more clearly.  And usually more expensive.

We figure the expense of childhood issues is going to catch up with the little ones shortly.  It all has to do with the recent wave of television commercials portraying children as members of real families and part of the decision making process.  We’ve had kids in commercials since there have been commercials.  Millions of people know that “Mikey likes it” but probably have no idea exactly what it is that Mikey likes.  But Mikey was cute.  And even at today’s inflated prices, we’re talking about a $3.00 box of cereal.  Not a big budget buster.

No, today’s kids are pushing thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars in single transactions just by being, well, by being bad kids.  Let’s start with the youngest in the crowd who carries his blanket with him wherever he goes.  Big deal, lots of kids do that.  But this one seems to take great pride into turning his blanket into an ice cream bowl just for kicks.  Grandma scoops out a nice big portion of ice cream and the kid immediately and deliberately dumps it onto his blanket.  Here that blanket would have then been declared garbage and tossed out with the trash.  There Grandma chuckles and the kid wins.  Again, not a budget buster but far from Mikey’s cuteness and a harbinger of things to come.

Those are the small victories that give other commercial children the audacity to demand their way or the highway.  Take the dad and child off the highway and park them on the rim of the Grand Canyon.  One of the Seven Wonders of the World and the kid sits in the car with the look of “yeah, I’ve seen pictures, so what” across his face.  Dad tries to find a way to “get to” his child, finally deciding to drive his new $30,000 car onto a bison range.  There one of the furry beasts walks up next to the car, fogs the window, and the kid is finally impressed.  You can tell he’s impressed because the voice over tells us so, and for a mere $30,000, plus travel expenses and release statement, you too can impress your child.

Perhaps the greatest display of petulance is the 9-ish year old whose parents determine that he should be part of their spending upwards of a quarter of a million dollars on a house.  House after house they look.  House after house he becomes more and more irked at the selections.  What’s missing here?  Why does he not like any of these fabulous structures?  Because there aren’t any big trees where he can build a playhouse.  It’s not just a house; it’s where you raise your family.  Or so says the pleasant voice at the end of the commercial.  Yeah, right.  And in a year he’ll forget about the tree house and for the next 10 years resent all of the leaves his parents will “force” him to rake every fall.  Them and their darn big trees.

Trust us, you’ll welcome being the parent of an adult child when most of the problems are expected.  And maybe not even more expensive.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

Big Deposit, No Return – or – Politics as Usual

Michael Leave a comment

Thanks be to all that is holy – “Election 2014” is over!  Woohoo!  Now we can stop with the crazy television ads, incomprehensible radio ads, and unnerving street side campaign signs (although not far from He’s house is a hillside with signs from last fall’s election (yes, it was one of the losers (isn’t that always the case?)).  The questions have been put and answered who will “lead” for the next few years.  The big question (why them?) might never be answered.

No, this post has nothing to do with the politics of politics.  Rather, it’s the economics of politics we’re calling to our question.  Here’s a case in point.  The governor in our state will be making about $190,000 of our money every year for the 4 years he will serve.  That’s about $760,000 total.  He spent over $40 million to get that job, and according to the news, over $10 million of it was his own money.  Apparently he is pretty well off even without the nearly $200K annual stipend.  That means for his job search, he spent (of his own money) 13 times what he stands to make over the next four years.   That’s over 52 times what he spent of everybody’s money to get that job.  Hmmmmmm.  Is this really the man we want proposing a budget for the entire state?

Stop to think about you most recent job search.  If you are absolutely thrilled with your current position you probably still look to improve your standing every now and then.  If your current position pays you well enough that you could afford to spend $10 million looking for a new position we’d probably say that you are pretty thrilled and that current position is fairly secure.  Your search might include checking out an Internet job board or the careers pages of a company you have lusted over since you got into your field.  Total cash outlay, whatever you spend on computer or smart phone access which also includes your e-mail, general searches, everyday access to your favorite websites, blogs and videos, and the occasional cyber shopping trip.  A deal at maybe $500 for the year.  If you land a job that pays that same $190,000 our governor will make next year you would have spent less than one-quarter of one percent of your potential salary to make that new salary.  (You can propose our budget any time!  Have you thought of running for governor?)

Of course it could be that those willing to spend 52 times to get a job that pays what they stand to make in a year are looking at more than just a return on their investment.  For whatever reason, someone was weird enough to spend a whole lot of money to get a job that makes comparatively very little money (and not just his own money, he convinced others to let him spend millions of their dollars also).  And more people were weird enough to vote for that guy thinking that made a lot of sense.  Maybe it will.  We suppose we’ll find out in the next four years.

For now, it would be nice if they get those signs taken down.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

And the Band Played On

Michael Leave a comment

Today is Monday.  That means yesterday was Sunday.  That means across most of America people watched football.  Regardless of which players did or didn’t play for whatever thing they did, and regardless of what companies did or didn’t advertise regardless of what players did play even though others didn’t for whatever they did, and regardless if outraged interviewees on television did or didn’t rage on about what should have happened to the players who did and didn’t play, across most of America people watched football.

Here’s something interesting about the days that led up to yesterday.  Whenever a player was questioned about what he or someone else did, the answer would have gotten anyone else fined, fired, jailed, or all the above.  Whether regarding domestic violence, child abuse, assault, driving under the influence, or possession of an illegal substance, the player almost always admitted guilt to the allegation but then went an extra step and said “but it’s not” whatever.  “Yes, I beat my wife but it’s not abuse.”  We’re sorry; did somebody change the English language?  Are the meanings of words different this month than last?  Doesn’t “yes” still mean “yes, I did it” and doesn’t “no” not mean “except in my case”?

We think those players really believe what they are saying.  They really don’t believe knocking a woman unconscious is assault.  They really don’t believe beating a small child is abuse.  It comes from the violence of the sport they play.  And the “players’ little helpers” that they take.  When the job is one of inflicting pain and incapacitating the competition it’s difficult to separate reality from reality.  And just in case that player can’t incapacitate the competition based on a somewhat normal body build, there are steroids to help. Of course they are illegal substances except for the professionals who take them.  After all, they are professionals used to declaring, and being believed when declaring, “Yes, except.”  And it gives them ‘roid rage as the standard excuse for all bad things that are done off the field.  It’s all very convenient.

Yet it’s all still very illegal.  Today, somewhere in America, a couple will have an argument.  They will say things they shouldn’t.  She will turn her back on him.  He will reach out and take her arm to try to encourage her to stay and talk it out.  She will call the police because he “laid hands on her” and he will spend the night in jail.  A far cry from punching her senseless but he doesn’t have the advantage of having thousands of fans cheering on violent behavior from him, perhaps even including his victim.  So violent or not, he gets an all expense stay at the Abusers Astoria while the football player gets people draping signs over the stadium fences declaring their undying devotion to the sot.

Fair?  Of course not.  Expected?  Well, yesterday was Sunday.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

You Gotta Trust Somebody

Michael Leave a comment

This is local news but we’re willing to bet something similar has happened where you live provided you live in the United States of America.  Seems other countries already have this figured out.

Earlier this week the local county council that counsels those who live in the county where we live voted to not include the phrase “In God We Trust” among the other cute sayings along the walls of the room in the county courthouse where the council lives and works on the days they bother to go to work.  It seems they trotted out that old argument, the separation of church and state, once again.  (They realize that the Congress of the United States begins each session with a prayer, don’t they?)  The County Executive made it even worse by trying to explain that even if the council passed that resolution he would have vetoed it since not everyone who lives in the county is a Christian.  Now there’s one soul who needs a lot of remedial Sunday school.

We’ve tried fighting that one with the clear language of those who wrote that Constitution that they meant freedom OF religion, not freedom FROM religion.  Since they never do listen to us we thought we’d at least help them along.  If they aren’t going to trust in God, let’s come up with someone everyone can agree is worthy of our trust.

It seems these guys like other elected officials.  They like to quote predecessors and sometimes even each other during spirited debates.  It sounds too self-serving to put up a banner that says “In County Council We Trust” so we’re going to look at some other elected ones.  School boards are supposed to be above politics and take an oath to be leaders to the children they ultimately serve.  That would be a good choice.  No, wait a minute, it was just a couple of days ago that the president of a local school board was arrested for assault stemming from a  bar fight in which an instructor in her school district was hit over the head with a beer mug by his wife – neither teacher nor board member, whew.  And just a couple days before that another school district’s board member was hauled off to jail on charges of assault and public drunkenness after a fight at a wedding reception.  “In School Boards We Trust” is out.

Judges.  They are fair, honest, impartial.  Yes, we can live with “In Judges We Trust” carved in stone.  Except for the ones who have recently been paroled for everything from taking bribes to using judicial resources to finance re-election campaigns.  Now there is that one judge who gets all the big trials and is pretty fair.  Why it was only two days ago that he wouldn’t allow a deliberating jury from reviewing an exhibit saying they have to rely on their collective memories.  We can change the carving to “In Judges’ Memories We Trust.”  No, that sounds too much like a memorial.

How about we move up the ladder.  If County Council wants to be somebody when they grow up it would be state representatives.  “In the State House We Trust” is a little wordy but it gives people enough time to not worry about the eight of them that are due to be released from prison before the end of this year.  Most of them already have their paperwork in to become registered lobbyists.  We’re certain we can get them to agree to be trustworthy if we can get their names inscribed along with the major catch phrase.  Or not.

Looks like we’re down to our last two suggestions.  There is a local bathroom remodeler whose motto is “A Company You Can Trust.”  We’ll just take a still from one of his television ads, blow it up, and post it behind the county council dais.

Our last suggestion is just to make certain the county council doesn’t ever have to deal with the phrase again and purge it from all of their records.  Once they can figure out how they’d like to get paid, since it is on all of our money, they should be happy as clams.  Or just as steamed.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

You thought that was politically incorrect?

Michael 1 Comment

Over the years we’ve rarely made specific observations of those people that we might feature in our posts.  There have been many of them but we’ve always spoken to what they’ve done, not who they are.

Our first mention of a real other person came in November of 2011.  We detailed the exploits of a shopper who startled She of We by screaming across a rather large store to a companion shopper.  We mentioned the shopper was screaming in a foreign tongue but we didn’t identify it and didn’t have to.  That wasn’t the story as much as the volume and not knowing the language therefore not knowing whether the scream was because Shopper #1 found a real bargain or a raging inferno.  (See “Clean Up on Aisle Ten,” November 10, 2011)

Throughout the next three years we visited waiters and waitresses that made our day (our favorite can be found at “How would you like your toast?” August 2, 2012), engaged couples becoming married couples in various culture settings (“Weddings Gone Wild…well, sort of,” July 1, 2013), and plane-mates with oversized (!) carry-ons (“We’re On Vacation, Part 1,” September 3, 2012).

In none of these stories did we consider the featured guest’s ethnic or racial background.  It didn’t seem to matter to the story. And if you speak to most people in the world, it doesn’t matter to them either.  Oh but when it comes time to complete a survey or an application for something, those authors delve into backgrounds that would be challenged as politically incorrect if they were to speak thusly in a lunch room of a company doing business with the government.

And there seems to be no consistency to their descriptions.  They may ask the survey taker if he or she is African American, Hispanic, or White.  That gives us one in an uncertain familial background, one as cultural descriptor, and one that’s a race identifier.  What does the white South African who grew up in Chile answer?  Is someone from the Black Sea village of Poti in Georgia just as Asian American as someone who grew up in Da Nang overlooking the South China Sea?  There is no good way to answer.

Is the term White used for those one cannot readily discern an ethnic background?  European American brings us back to a non-descript description but how much difference is there between an Italian American, a French American, and a German American other than what side of the Alps are the coffee shops?  And do any of these people get to use the description if they themselves actually spent no time in the called upon country or is that only available for continents?

We think we have the best idea.  If one is living in America one gets to be an American.  If you’re living somewhere else please check with your country’s version of the ACLU for guidance, then ignore them and do what we say instead.   When you read one of our posts you can’t tell if of whom we are speaking has a particular color skin, speaks with a certain accent, or is good at making ravioli at home.   You can tell if of whom we are speaking makes us smile doing the things that race, color, or national origin can’t control.  Like asking, “How would you like your toast?”

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

And to Aunt Shirley I Leave My Blog

Michael Leave a comment

The Uniform Law Commission made a monumental decision this week.  It released information to the general public letting everyone know it exists and what it does.  No, we’re just kidding!  That’s not it.  We still have no idea who belongs to this group and what they actually do.  But very recently we read that the Uniform Law Commission (ULC to its closest friends) has published legal guidelines for what to do with all of your electronic accounts once you are no longer you.  All that has to happen now for this to become law and close a gap that has been widening like a pothole on the information highway is for every state legislature to adopt it as law.

Apparently people have actually sued on-line providers for access to accounts held by deceased relatives.  On-line files at e-mail, file storage, and social media sites are being compared to records kept in vaults, safes, and shoeboxes from another era.  Banking, insurance, and ownership records are just some of the items kept in today’s on-line shoeboxes.  These are things that would be of much interest to the executor of an estate and importance to the estate.

The way the proposed law addresses the release of information is that a designated person, presumably the executor, would be able to access the files but not act on the files.  He or she could read the posts on a social media site but could not post to the site, could read the files at a cloud storage site but could not copy the files from that site, could read e-mails but not send e-mails from that account.  Does that help?  We’re not sure.  It seems that still leaves a lot of room for someone to commit identity theft.  That room might be made smaller if the law gave the designee the power of action.  We may not want someone to read every e-mail we’ve ever saved over years (nor may they want to) but we certainly want someone to purge our banking information before the bad guys get to it and clean out our accounts.

In the spirit of excess, people are already reading more than the practical applications into the proposed rules.  In reporting on the ULC’s actions, the Associated Press said “Imagine the trove of digital files…and what those files might fetch on an auction block.”  Now the AP was specifically referring to Bill Clinton and Bob Dylan and their electronic writings which would fetch an attractive sum at auction.  They might fetch even more than The Real Reality Show Blog posts will.  (Don’t you just love the use of “fetch” regarding high prices returned of sold items?  Come on fella, go fetch those millions of dollars!  But we digress.)

Do we need a law to make this happen?  Not really.  Just like you can put into your will who gets access to your safe deposit box, you can put into your will who gets access to your electronic storage areas.  It might sound funny today but in a few years it could be routine to read at the opening of a will, “And I release all my Instagram pictures to my friend John Doe,” or more likely, “And I allow full access to and disposition of accounts held at the First National Bank on-line banking service by the Executor by way of the user name and password found in the addendum to this will.”

Of course, Aunt Shirley will get control of all the posts to this blog and whatever they fetch at auction or the garage sale, whichever is greater.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

 

Handicap Hate Crime

Michael 2 Comments

We’ve never actually said who we are, where we are, what we do, and other such identifying characteristics.  It wasn’t necessarily intentional.  It just never came up.  After a few years and a few hundred posts it became something just not said.  This week something happened so heinous we may change that just so we can make sure nobody ever, never, never, ever patronizes a particular store.  But first, a story.  And with apologies, a somewhat longish story.

Recent events have slowed He of We from his usual vibrant self.  There are days when his vibrancy is right up there but none so up there that he can vibe without the help of a cane, and not for more than a couple hundred feet at a time.  Thus he has entered the ranks of the temporary handicapped placard people.

All of We (He, She, Sons and Daughter) have always respected the wheel-chaired icon.  So much respect goes to those who are somewhat diminished but still find it in themselves to continue to work, shop, and play that even now, if He of We finds himself in a particularly good day and there is only one spot outlined in blue, he will leave it for someone else and find a relatively close general parking place.  So much respect goes to those in need that when He sees someone in obvious violation of the perk (for example, the youngster who drops a handicapped person off at the door, tells him or her that he’ll come back to the door for pick-up when he sees him or her emerge from the store, and then goes off to take a handicapped spot to wait at), He of We offers to put said violator in compliance with the rules if he doesn’t move.

But we digress.

Earlier this very week on a particularly trying day, he needed to stop at a local grocery store for a handful of items.  This was not the store he usually patronizes but it was one whose weekly ads he scans for that phenomenal loss leader that makes stopping after work worth the few minutes to wander along the dingy aisles.  This particular store has their handicapped spots around the corner from the main entrance.  Those immediately in front of the store doors are general parking.  Fortunately this store is so poorly patronized that at least one of those spots is always available.  Not that day.  So for the first time he parked in one of the three designated spots around the corner, displayed his placard, struggled out of the driver’s seat, crossed the parking lot, and snatched a buggy on the way in.

He noticed the shopping carts were new from his last visit there.  He also noticed that at the inside of the front of the cart, in the place where most supermarkets would make hay with advertisements, these carried a warning.  Yes, a warning.  “Warning,” it said, “the wheels on this state of the art shopping cart are designed to lock and render the cart immobile if the cart is removed from the security perimeter of [name of store]’s  parking lot.”  He supposed it made some sense.  The store is in an area just as urban as sub and he imagined that many very local shoppers push their laden carts all the way to their apartments and return with them on some future shopping day.  But not his problem.  He had specials to exploit.

He proceeded through the dingy aisles, made his few purchases, paid his bill, and because of the weight of the items purchased, elected to leave the now bagged products in the cart and wheel it to his designated parking spot.  You can see where this is going, can’t you?  He got about five feet from his car, absolutely right in the middle of the travel lane, and the wheels locked.  And boy, did they lock.  That cart was not going anywhere!

It would not budge forward.  It would not budge backward.  There appeared to be no obvious switches.  Worse, there was no audible alarm so no one came running to help (or to prosecute).  Not even the buggy boy who at about 20 feet away was apparently far enough not to hear the plea for help.  So he, in his not fully capacitated state, did what he could do.  He removed his bags, one by one, trekked them to his car, and left the disabled cart right in the middle of the travel lane.

As he pulled away he checked his rear view mirror and saw that the buggy boy had finally noticed the unattended shopping cart and was attempting to corral it back with the rest of the herd.  Actually what he was doing was dragging it, kicking it, slapping its handle, and probably swearing at it but since it was at least 20 feet away from anyone, nobody heard his calls for help.

We think we’ll continue to leave our location a bit of mystery.  Actually, it’s not that much of mystery but in fairness to the store we’ll just stay “those reality blog people” and give the store owners more benefit of a greater doubt than they undoubtedly deserve.  Perhaps the store owners didn’t know that the lot designer had a thing against handicapped people or that the security system installer didn’t realize that those blue spaces around the corner from the entrance would ever actually be used, or that the shopping cart salesperson hadn’t might have bamboozled them with carts that randomly proved their mettle.

We’ll just say that if you are anyplace where the handicapped spots are some 30 to 40 feet from the door and you have to cross the path of 6 to 8 general parking spaces, including 4 that are immediately in front of the entrance, go shop somewhere else.  The $4 savings on 12 K-Cups just isn’t worth it.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Careful Wishing

Michael Leave a comment

Sometime over the past week a first or second grader grabbed his “not usual backpack” on his way to school one day.  This wrong backpack had a toy gun in it.  Sometime during the school day it became the toy gun not in the backpack and he was ultimately sent home for violating the zero tolerance policy on weapons in the school.  We replayed that scene across several local school districts about a half dozen times since the beginning of the school year.  Apparently a lot of kids keep their toy guns in backpacks now.

Sometime over the past month a first or second grader grabbed his backpack on the way to school and when he got there he found his mother’s real gun in it.  A while before that another first or second grader pulled from his backpack at school his grandfather’s hunting knife.  Sometime between them yet another first or second grader discovered heroin in his backpack courtesy of his parents.

What do all these have in common?  Besides that all of the children were suspended per their district’s zero tolerance policy on weapons and drugs, all of them were phoned into one or another of the local news outlets’ “on your side” reporters who “went to bat” for the youngsters.  The claim was that they were unfairly disciplined either because of their age, what was found, or how what was found was put into the child’s backpack becoming the rallying cry for saving the children.

Another thing in common is that in these and similar incidents, the public was behind the reporters.  The vast majority of people who cared enough to express an opinion expressed that the children should not have been punished.  It wasn’t their fault that the gun – toy or real – ended up at school.  It wasn’t their fault that a knife, several inches long and sharp enough to slice through an animal hide popped out at the elementary school cafeteria inducing inferiority complexes among the standard issue plastic tableware.  It wasn’t the child’s fault that his backpack was the closest hiding place for drugs at home that didn’t get removed before the backpack left home.

They argue that zero tolerance certainly didn’t mean to include actions not within the students’ control and certainly not the actions of first or second graders.  Yet when the knife slashes 20 other students, or the gun is discharged and becomes the weapon holding a classroom hostage, even zero tolerance is too tolerant.

It seems somebody needs to revisit the various school districts’ policies.  At what age does accountability begin?  Are students expected to pay for the actions of their parents?  Is “zero tolerance” a policy or a catchphrase?

Most importantly on that visit, people have to make a decision.  Does zero mean zero?  And if it does, does it mean zero at all times.  How careful is one willing to be when one is wishing in today’s society?

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Confessions of a Lottery Winner

Michael 1 Comment

Before the numbers are revealed everyone says “If I hit it big I’m never working another day in my life.”  After the numbers are drawn and someone actually hits it big, at the interview on television he or she says, “It won’t change me at all.  I’ll still live in the same house, drive the same car, work at the same job.”  After the numbers are drawn and someone actually hits it big, on the phone with his or her boss, he or she says, “Take your job and shove it!”

We don’t know how we’d react.  The biggest hit we can remember is He hit a state drawing for $40.  That allowed him to shove his job for about four minutes.  But, He has had some other wins.  Not counting the occasional silent auction or charitable raffle with a top prize of a questionable line drawing or an equally questionable wine vintage, he’s hit it big at casinos and racetracks even if the PowerBall, MegaMillions, and state offerings have let him down.

Big might be just a bit of an exaggeration.  There was one night at a local harness track when he had a hard time picking a loser.  But since most of the bets were of the pedestrian $2 variety and most of the winners were favorites, the winnings didn’t tally very high.  And there was one trip to Las Vegas that ended up as a break even trip.  For him, breaking even isn’t far from winning.  But then when one seeks out nickel slot machines and $2 tables, winning isn’t far from breaking even.

So when it comes to games of chance, you could say that he is pretty lucky.  But his luckiest was last summer when he really hit it big.  It was just about a year ago when he was in a hospital bed and his doctor came in and said, “All the tests are back and there is no cancer.  We got it all.”

Since then there have been other days in the hospital.  There have been lots of pills and tests and scans.  But no cancer.  There have been days at work when he’d rather have been doing anything but be at work.  There have been days off where he’d have rather been doing something more constructive.  But there have been days.  Days that might not have been.

So if every now and then we miss a Monday or a Thursday post (or both), or it seems like one was particularly short or another somewhat rambling, it might have been one of those days.

But at least there are days.  Even if there isn’t a big lottery winner, having the day is winning enough.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?