Great Speech Writers - Great Reflection on USA

Andy Rooney's editorial on Sixty Minutes last night was quite insightful.
He said that the President has 13 speech-writers with salaries ranging from $30,000 to $164,000. Taxpayers are spending over $600,000 to make sure our President says just the right words, with exact grammar and intent. The following extractions from our President's speeches makes me feel a wee bit better when someone points out one of my many mis-spellings or grammatical errors. I don't have even a good spell-checker on my computer!

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we."
- US President George W. Bush (August 5, 2004)

"One of the interesting initiatives we've taken in Washington, D.C., is we've got these vampire-busting devices. A vampire is a-a cell deal you can plug in the wall to charge your cell phone." George W Bush, Denver, CO. Aug. 14, 2001

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country." —Poplar Bluff, Mo., Sept.’04

"Rarely is the questioned asked: Is our children learning?" —Florence, S.C., Jan. 11, 2000

"There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again." Nashville,02

"I would say the best moment of all was when I caught a 7.5 pound perch in my lake." --George W. Bush, on his best moment in office, interview with the German newspaper 5/06

The White House also employs ten $30,000/year "gift analysts". I think I'd like that job ~ MUCH less responsibility than a speech writer. Every day would be different in trying to figure out what gift came from various countries. Then there is the challenge of figuring out what to do with another toaster or blender or didgeridoo. Dear Gussie! $300,000 worth of salaries PLUS benefits for presents to be opened and analyzed!!

I'll bet my five year old nephew Griffin would do it by himself in half the time, if he opened them with the same intensity as he does with his Christmas gifts.

p.s. I'm not picking on THIS administration alone....there are plenty of gaffs in prior administrations' speeches (I did NOT have relations with that ....) and some rather abundant gift taking upon some leaving the White House.

Expiration Dates

Today I brought home a couple of bagels from Bruegger's Bagels and noticed that the bottom of the bag had an expiration date stamped on it ~ Jul 13 '06.
Now, come on. I know that we have taken this expiration date thing to an obnoxious level, but to put it on a brown paper bag? What is going to happen? Will the bag revert back to a tree? Poor sap.

I also get confused with dates saying "Purchase by:_____ and Use by:______"
What if I DON'T purchase it by the earlier date, yet I use it by the "USE BY" date?
I feel a little manipulated here.

I'll keep cough medicines around for a while because I use it for 3 doses and I'm over the cough. So in another year, I'll need it again. For $8.95 for this little bottle, I want to use every ounce of it. Sometimes I'll take it over to a friend's house if the expiration date is drawing nigh and offer it like a house-warming present instead of wine...or Mad Dog 2020.

A few months ago I found a small rash on my arm that I must have gotten from pulling weeds..so I looked in the medicine cabinet and found an anti-itch cream but the bottle told me that I couldn't use it after 8/06..and it was Sept. 1st!!
Rats! If I had only procured this itch 24 hours earlier I could have used it!
OK, I still used it but in the back of my mind, I was constantly on the look-out for some weird curdle on my entire arm to my head because the lotion was officially "expired". (I know to NEVER mess with the dates of use on MILK...thus the analogy.)

One day recently I decided to clean out my non-perishable items. I always thought that if something were packaged in a can, it never perished..thus the name.
But alas, my nephew Brian had come over and being BT-OCD (BT= "Big time") obsessive-compulsive VERY disorder...he started flying thru the cupboards' occupants and FREAKING OUT just because the soup had a 4/99 date on it. It's SOUP...lots of salt as a preservative, for pity sake!! I think the jar of mayonaise that read 2/88 really bothered him and he refused to eat the tuna sandwhich I had prepared for lunch.

I believe that there are some other things that should have an expiration date on it that are missing:

A) Re-runs from 1965 Bonanza episodes
B) Chairs that have had the legs broken off more than 7 times.
C) Blogs that are older than 5 days

But one expiration date that I AM looking forward to:
Jan 20, 2008 ~ No not the Super Bowl...a New President

Where the Heck are We Looking for Our Answers?

I don't know if you noticed that there was an escaped fugitive from a New York prison for 5 months who was recently apprehended. For most of his 20+ weeks that he was on the run, he was wandering around an interesting area of New York. The location of most of his hide 'n seek with the N.Y. Deputy Dawgs was within 20 miles of a 100 year old psychic community known throughout the country as housing over 50 certified psychic mediums.
Every summer thousands of people visit Cassadega, N.Y. to explore the possibility that some stranger with a pseudo crystal ball can provide them with answers that have eluded them so far. Will I be famous? Will I be rich? Will I find the love of my life? Can I contact my loved one so they can tell me where the hidden stock certificates are? Will I ever be happy?

Well, if these talented Crystal ball readers couldn't help out the local law in finding this dangerous escaped inmate who eventually killed a 26 year old policeman, I doubt if they can find the missing family dog.

People read those horror-scopes and/or search for the "sign" to tell them whether they should buy the red sweater or the green one for the "big interview" or first date.
Why do we do that? Why do many of us look in the wrong direction for our answers?

For me, I know I need to look "UP" for my answers. But I'll still continue to flip a coin whether I bet the point spread with the Bengals games.

Coupon Savings? I Don't Think So!

Why is it when I call a company for a "Special Offer Coupon for Big Savings", I end up being quoted 400% more than what my little coupon advertises?
Last week I called a company that circulated a coupon for AIR DUCT VENT CLEANING...$69.00 which included 10 air ducts and two "return" ducts.
I haven't had the air vents cleaned for at least 10 years and we've had some major dust from construction around the house so I thought it was a good idea. The last time we employed such a service, a 19 year old, 110 pound college freshman, majoring in Political Science ("Poly-Sci") named Chad, came in and charged us $49.00. He spent about 45 mintues using a big vacuum, a feather duster and followed up with a short squirt of lysol in the general direction of the registers.

Today two men, who I'm sure are bouncers at a local bar at night, arrived with 340 pounds of coil, generators and other equipment to blow out our vents. Guido, the head honcho, would remove a register plate, shine a flashlight in and mumble, "Oh, wow...the guys back at the office won't believe THIS ONE! Hey, Bus, you gotta come look at this!" (Yes, the second guy resembled retired Pittsburgh running back, Jerome Bettis...so THIS is what he's doing in retirement!)

Guido shook his head like I had just committed a 12th degree felony when I told him it had been 5 years since our last service. (Ok, I lied a couple of years.)
They spent 45 minutes just counting the vents and doing a quick "quote for an all-inclusive" cleaning. That was more than little Chad spent including the sweaty handshakes at the door.

Guido brought his clipboard to show my $69. + full-service quote....are you ready for this?
(Now, please understand that I was expecting to pay for the extra vents that exceeded the coupon's 10 that were allowed.)
But the grand total came to....$1159. (plus tax)
Guido had included a super cleaning, sanitizing and a special UV bulb, that would prohibit any mold or bacteria from ever THINKING of entering my duct/vent system.
He threw in two free tickets to the Circleville Pumpkin Festival and 4 ceramic mugs with his company's name on them. Boy, that's what I want to use to toast my egg nog with during the Holidays.
I kinda giggled a bit, that nervous little laugh like you're about to throw up but don't want to mess up the carpets because they had just been cleaned for $345 (never mind my "special $99 whole-house" coupon)

I asked if i really needed the $345 of sanitizing if I was buying a $489 UV lamp.
"good point, Mrs. Murray (grrrr)...we'll deduct that out from the total.
"I noticed that you put the Special price as $89...I thought it was $69" ~ I pointed out.
"Oh, that's right...I forgot which county I was in. We have all kinds of specials in the various counties that we service...that will be deducted from your total."

I said, "If you can do all of this for $359, you have a deal", never thinking they wuld come down to that price from $1159.
Guido furrowed his brow and shook his head and witha dramatic sigh he said, "Well, that will be a tough one ~ but we might as well roll the dice..can I borrow your phone?" I then saw him sneak a wink at "The Bus" and gave him a thumbs up like they had conned a novice referee to give them a 5th down with one yard to go for a touchdown.

After 10 minutes of blah, blah with his "boss" (he probably called his own answering machine), he told me, with a fake, pained expression of disbelief like the company will lose their license if they ever made this deal again ~ that he had unbelieveably great news! I thought he was going to tell me that the TV show Commander in Chief was returning!
He explained that since we were first time customers, and since I agreed to distribute 1200 business cards to my neighbors (I didn't), and that I SWORE I would NEVER tell ANYONE what a great deal WE were getting (HA!), the boss approved of a $389 deal. Guido was shaking with excitement as he started the paperwork in triplicate.
I, on the other hand, was shaking my head "No"...I said, "Sorry, Guido...I said $359, not $399."
I thought he was going to take my head and pass it to The Bus for spiking in the end zone.

Somehow, after another phone call, more theatrical acting that should win Guido some kind of award, and more blah, blah, I still got my "deal"...I THINK I am happy...but when I think of how I WAS going to spend $69...is it DEAL...or BAD DEAL? That is the question.

I think I'll stay away from coupons for a while.

The Instant Replays of Life

Oh, how I wish we could use an instant replay machine for everyday challenges.
Today I tried driving into a gas station slot for an economical fill-up (Murphy gas at WALMART..$2.00/GALLON VS $2.24 everywhere else) and a guy swerved in front of me and took my place. SO I calmly went in line behind another customer to patiently wait my turn. Then I saw the same guy leave my first choice pump and so it was free again for me to, with lightning quick driving deftness, take the place of Mr. Rude.
Oooops. The only problem was, apparently Mr. Rude was also Mr. Confused. He didn't know which side of his car housed the gas cap so he wasn't abandoning his spot, just re-arranging his car by turning it around. By the time he looked up and I saw what he was doing, I observed that my former spot behind the other car at the alternate pump now had 3 cars behind it. What was I to do?

I just started the fuel dispensing process and pretended that I didn't hear Mr. Rude/Confused now Mr. Ballistic yelling expletives to me. As he drove off, I did catch a glimpse of him and he at least waved at me...but with just one digit of his hand.
I, feeling awkward, waved a cheery hello like he was my sorority sister's Dad.
I wish I had an instant replay to see if I should have not scored the fuel or been penalized for my un-sportsman-like conduct. Should my fake wave be considered "Excessive celebration after a score"? and I'm fined or something?

I later went to Kroger's for groceries and had about 14 items in my cart. There were no other check-out lanes that had less than 3 over-stuffed carts in line and there was NO ONE in the 12 ITEMS or less line. I started to get nervous, perspiring ("glistening") and my stomach churned a bit with the possibility of doing something as edgy as taking advantage of the rules of grocery shopping etiquette.
Just as I wheeled my cart in the wrong line (with the same lightning quick deftness as my automobile skills), I felt the judgemental eyes of the cashier and the person behind me with one can of coffee upon me. I felt that I could actually hear them counting out loud the number of items in my cart. I want to call for a special ruling since three of my items were potatoes...shouldn't they count as one? I mean a dozen eggs isn't counted as TWELVE items!

OK, this is pretty crazy talk I guess...MAYBE I stayed up too late last night watching the Pittsburgh Scoreless lose. If I could instant replay that whole game, I would have gone to bed a lot earlier.

I have no pride..I will resort to cheating to win

Last night was a devasting evening to me. I realized that I am not 25 years old ~ I am ALL of 55.
I played ping pong on a regulation table for the third time in 20 years. There were two times about 14 years ago I played for 15 minutes against an opponent who was...well, let's be kind and say....awful?
Oh, then there was the time I played on a small pp table that was for use on top of the water of a swimming pool ~ and every time my "upper torso" got "into" the game, the table "accidentally" moved and my able-opponent's serve happened to go into the water instead of on the table. Point - Peggy.

I grew in a rather competitive family and we had a ping pong table in the basement. I was the reigning champ. (Hey! This is MY movie and that's how it was!!) I had to play most people with my left, non-dominant hand or with the pp paddle in my mouth.
I have heard unsubstantiateed rumors that there was ONE night that I lost ~ ONLY due to a neck injury. I don't really recall much. Apparently I had taken one too many pain pills and someone FORCED a glass of wine or four down my throat.
But I digress.

We have a roomful of games in the lower level of our present home. Anything from air hockey to video/pinball games to bumper pool to table shuffleboard. The only real game missing was PING PONG. We finally found the space for it and after 90 minutes of 5 people trying to put the "30- minute-easy-assembly" table together (minimum of swear words...I was so proud!), we were grabbing the paddles and ping-ponging before the net was up!

Now comes the embarrassing part. The paddles have changed in the past 25 years. Mine today is sooooooooooo much smaller than "back then".
The table has gotten shorter.
The balls don't have the "sensor" that they had "in the good old days"...

~ and my little nephew Sean, (Now in his mid, er..LATE 30's) who I taught ping-pong to and coached on good table manners and no "smack talking"....challenged me to a game. (Albeit what turned out to be a very SHORT game.)

Score - 21 - 4 (and I was lucky to get 4 points)

One of three things are going to happen...

1) I return the table and paddles and balls
2) I practice every day for 8 hours
3) I ban a certain someone from ever darkening my doorstep again...

Time will tell....

Flag Football for Kids

My great nephew Griffin, who will be 6 years old in a couple of months, had his first flag football practice last night.
There were 30 excited, enthusiastic future Heisman trophy winners out there.
The coach was nice, supportive and extremely exhausted after the 44 minute session.
He had the kids run drills ~ like run 30 yards...
and throw 5 yards..and try to catch the ball from 5 yards away.
When they were given their first ever net football jerseys they screamed like made the all-star team.


It's flag football and so there will be no tackling of your opponent. They will only learn to pick the pocket of the runner with the flag. After these 6 weeks, we can send them all to New York to be street thieves just in time for Christmas.

They will practice 45 minutes for 4 weeks and then, have 2 REAL games.
I think Griffin had the best time until the end of practice, when someone told Grif's best friend to tackle him. CRUNCH. Bad ankle. I guess that's why they play flag football at this age. Oh, Griffin will be fine. We hope.

I have 6 more days to find a cheerleading outfit to match Griffin's mesh jersey color.

Countdown to Christmas

100 days until Christmas!
2400 Hours left to shop for that perfect present.
Spiff up the credit cards ~ start NOW to prepare for the one day of the year that the majority of Americans over-spend, over-eat and over-emphasize gift-giving.

I've experienced 55 Christmas celebrations and the best ones that I remember were the funny ones where we gave each other joke gifts and laughed uncontrollably. We played ping pong and darts and no one got mad because I beat them consistantly.
Now, understand that we gave and received nice presents...but I couldn't tell you the specifics about more than a handful of gifts...but I remember the laughing.
Since my family unit has changed it's profile over the years, with some gone and some additional members to enjoy, I feel more and more strongly that I want to make fun memories rather than open forgetful presents.
I pray that quality TIME spent vs. presents becomes the norm vs. a novel idea.

If someone spends even 15 minutes getting nervous or pressured because of not having the money to purchase the "right" presents, spend the next 100 days being creative about how to relax and enjoy the Holidays in a creative way.
Be grateful to have the time to spend with the ones you love.

I will now quietly step down from my Ivory Soap box...but it was fun while it lasted.

SLOW News Day

I read the news via CNN.com internet broadcast. They update their most visable stories hourly so I feel I am getting the most current look at what's happening across the world.

Today, included among the top 10 stories were:
Britney Spears giving birth again...to a son (That made my day..just having trouble figuring out what to buy her for a baby present).....and
Gary Weddle, age 40-something, from the state of Washington, has decided not to shave his beard until Osama Bin Laden is caught.
Finally! Someone is doing SOMETHING rational about getting that renegade into custody! I'm sure once our President and military personnel hear about Gary, OBL is as good as in handcuffs.
I will turn on the TV news tonight and the "BREAKING NEWS" will start off, "Growing Beard like Osama motivates military to capture Lead Terrorist, Bin Laden" . They may even fly Gary over to wherever OBL is apprehended, to have a photo opp.

Maybe if I stop mowing my grass, the networks will bring back the TV show, "Commander in Chief"?..or maybe I'll stop wearing deoderant...or eat popcorn everyhour on the hour...or blog every 15 minutes...

Football - Names & Team Mascots

Ah, football season has "kicked off" and I am amazed at the reminder of all the silly nicknames that these grown-up teams have chosen for their image.

I wonder which one sells the most crap like mugs, t-shirts, sweatshirts, golf club head-covers and Christmas stockings with their favorite team name and mascot plastered all over it?

When I was in college, our sports teams at Ohio University were namedBobcats...and the sports women were "lucky" enough to be labeled "Bob-kittens". (Oh, I loved that on the back of my golf skirt)

Now, take the Cleveland BROWNS...a DOG? And guy-fans LOVE to wear the dog-masks in the DOG pound! (at last I THINK they are masks..yikes!)

WHY would the following teams even CONSIDER these names?

The Cincinnati BENGALS ~ not a bengal tiger within 6000 miles unless you count the ones at the zoo)

San Diego CHARGERS ~ Do they have a credit card as their mascot?

Chicago BEARS, Jackson JAGUARS, Detroit LIONS...Can you imagine these animals EVER being found in their respective areas, not to mention running around the stadium?

New York GIANTS - the players are no larger than the Boise, Idaho local high school team members.
And if I were to name a team in New York, it might be the "New York Muggers" Wouldn't that fit the actions on the field better than the N.Y. JETS?

Kansas City CHIEFS...Well, after their opening loss, maybe they should be the "Squaws"...

Speaking of Native American Indian names, Washington REDSKINS? That should be changed to the "OFF-WHITE-SKINS", for sure.....do you think they have ONE Native American Indian on their entire roster?? OR in the entire CITY, for that matter!

San Francisco 49ers...what is a that? What possible mascot could they have?
Maybe it should be the San Fran "Chardonnay-ers".

Pittsburgh STEELERS - since the steel mills are all closed, they could be the only team that plays with NO HELMETS and be the Pittsburgh STITCHES.

I could go on and on...and on..
but I'm off to order some Christmas presents...Buffalo Bills (they'll send currency right?)

Take Me Out to the Ballgame (Golf., preferably)

The cost of being a sports enthusiast is getting more and more expensive. Hot dogs are as American as apple pie and baseball. But, when buying your hot dog at the Cincinnati Reds baseball stadium, does it have to cost as much as your ticket? Well, I guess EVERYTHING costs an appendage at a professional sporting stadium, right?
$4.00 for a hotdog on a cold bun and $6.00 for a luke-warm beer is just a little outrageous. (I didn't have the beer...but I know these things)
And WHY would someone pay another 50 cents on top of the crazy $6.00 to buy the same beer from a guy impeding my view (and auditory ability) of the game by walking up and down the aisles yelling lies at the top of his lungs, "Ice Cold Beer here!"? Oh, I know...because he doesn't want to miss one of the possible three hits in the 3 hours of exciting baseball.

I was given two $28.00 tickets to a Reds game. Parking costs anywhere from $10. on game day to $30. at a lot closr than 2 miles away from the stadium. I've already mentioned the ridiculous extortion for food ~ so, all in all, if two people were to attend the game and see it in half-way decent seats where you didn't need star-gazing quality binoculars, it would set you back $100. And you're not even playing! You're just watching!

Compare that scenario with playing a nice relaxing game of golf with 3 other dear friends. You actually are afforded the opportunity to PLAY the game, and you get 4-5 hours of excitement....and you can see every shot UP CLOSE, with the rare possible exception of the ones hit out of the sand as your eyes are blinded by the flying grains.
The hot dogs are $1.25 served on a warm bun. The beer is $1.50 and it IS ice cold (I DO know THIS for a fact..first hand! No discount on 4 of them, though),

In golf there is SOME excercise involved by windmilling at the 1" sphere 100+ times..and one is mentally, physically, and emotionally challenged. All this fun for $42.50 including food and beverage.

Ok, I forgot to mention one smallitty-bitty detail. One CAN get carried away with small, friendly bets with their golfing partners/opponents. This CAN result in some disturbing monetary losses that MIGHT very well exceed the $100. aforementioned amount associated with baseball spectatorship.

Maybe I should include in my comparison calculations the costs of golf lessons and driving range visits and lost golf balls.

Anyone want to go to a Reds game?

Irish Fortune Cookie

When people think of fortune cookies, most picture the Chinese cookie that says something quite pithy (I love that word) like:

"Man who is coasting is going downhill" ~

Irish fortune cookies can be just as impressive:

* Strength to the Elbow!

* Stay clear of a person who is so useless they are only fit to mind mice at a crossroads.

* One who gossips has a tongue that could clip a hedge.

* Plan so carefully that if you're not fishing, you're mending your nets.


Some fortunes that I would like to put in a cookie:

* The car valet is making copies of your keys

* Your telephone number will appear in Telemarketers Weekly as the number of the week

* You should have used the chopsticks

* Your blog will be read by many, appreciated by only a few

* Blog not unless you have something useful to say.

Hmmmm..maybe I've gone too far here

Baby Suri Cruise -

Finally! I can sleep tonight! Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have released their long-awaited pictures of little hairy, Suri, who I THINK is a girl.
Vanity Fair Magazine has devoted 14 pages of typical posed pictures of the loving parents drooling over their off-spring.
VANITY is a good name associated with this press exposure.
"I think she has Tom's eyes" ~ Katie
"I think she has Katie's eyes" ~ Tom
Wouldn't it be funny if she had Johnny Depp's eyes?
Who would notice the eyes when she has more hair than are in the 45 wigs in Burt Reynolds closet! And it's blacker than Wayne Newton's "dome"!

Maybe that's what took so long to release these treasured photos. They were having Shirli's hair trimmed.
Oh, sorry..her name is Suri...what Saint is that? Don't good Catholics name their child after a Saint? And isn't Katie a Catholic from Toledo, Ohio? Oh, wait..she is maybe going to be a Scientist of some kind. Scientists must like odd names.

I've never seen a really cute picture of a baby. I do see the Miracle involved but they don't get close to cute for 3 years...(Present Murphy family children are the only exception)
Come on...you must admit that when someone shows you baby pictures, 9 out of 10 times, you want to say, "what animal kingdom was this one rescued from?" (only I never end a sentence with a preposition)

Behaviors that MAYBE Sugar-pie Suri shouldn't be punished for as she grows up:
1) Jumping on furniture
2) Criticizing her "friends" on national TV
3) Marrying and divorcing numerous times
4) Changing faiths
5) Starring in Mission Impossible 78

Prayers Work

I received an email from my friend and Financial advisor, Sherri Bleichner, about prayer. I am wondering if she thinks I need a litte "outside help" with my finances?
Here are some good thoughts:

Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.

Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job!) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got
back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together .

Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love . It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love.

OK, these ARE nice thoughts....hope they last longer than 5 minutes with me today.
~ that's MY prayer!

The History & Origin of Labor Day

Who really knows why we have the day off today?....please raise your hand.
Ok, you, Margaret Mary...who pens (er, TYPES) a most illimunating, creative blog called Musings by Margart Mary ~ what is your answer, please.

These are the facts...from the archived research files that I refer to daily....written by a home-schooling expert, Beverly Hernandez.

(As I read the history of LABOR DAY I thought, "Leave it to someone with Irish heritage to get the proverbial ball rolling to acquire more "pub time"..."


Eleven-year-old Peter McGuire sold papers on the street in New York City. He shined shoes and cleaned stores and later ran errands. It was 1863 and his father, a poor Irish immigrant, had just enlisted to fight in the Civil War. Peter had to help support his mother and six brothers and sisters.

Many immigrants settled in New York City in the nineteenth century. They found that living conditions were not as wonderful as they had dreamed. Often there were six families crowded into a house made for one family. Thousands of children had to go to work. Working conditions were even worse. Immigrant men, women and children worked in factories for ten to twelve hours a day, stopping only for a short time to eat. They came to work even if they were tired or sick because if they didn't, they might be fired.

Thousands of people were waiting to take their places.

When Peter was 17, he began an apprenticeship in a piano shop. This job was better than his others, for he was learning a trade, but he still worked long hours with low pay. At night he went to meetings and classes in economics and social issues of the day. One of the main issues of concern pertained to labor conditions. Workers were tired of long hours, low pay and uncertain jobs. They spoke of organizing themselves into a union of laborers to improve their working conditions. In the spring of 1872, Peter McGuire and 100,000 workers went on strike and marched through the streets, demanding a decrease in the long working day.

This event convinced Peter that an organized labor movement was important for the future of workers' rights. He spent the next year speaking to crowds of workers and unemployed people, lobbying the city government for jobs and relief money. It was not an easy road for Peter McGuire. He became known as a "disturber of the public peace." The city government ignored his demands. Peter himself could not find a job in his trade. He began to travel up and down the east coast to speak to laborers about unionizing. In 1881, he moved to St. Louis, Missouri, and began to organize carpenters there. He organized a convention of carpenters in Chicago, and it was there that a national union of carpenters was founded. He became General Secretary of the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America.

The idea of organizing workers according to their trades spread around the country. Factory workers, dock workers and toolmakers all began to demand and get their rights to an eight-hour workday, a secure job and a future in their trades. Peter McGuire and laborers in other cities planned a holiday for workers on the first Monday in September, halfway between Independence Day and Thanksgiving Day.

On September 5, 1882 the first Labor Day parade was held in New York City. Twenty thousand workers marched in a parade up Broadway. They carried banners that read "LABOR CREATES ALL WEALTH," and "EIGHT HOURS FOR WORK, EIGHT HOURS FOR REST, EIGHT HOURS FOR RECREATION!" After the parade there were picnics all around the city. Workers and celebrants ate Irish stew, homemade bread and apple pie. At night, fireworks were set off. Within the next few years, the idea spread from coast to coast, and all states celebrated Labor Day. In 1894, Congress voted it a federal holiday.

I think it should be called "Labor-less Day"...now, get back to work!

No Time Today to Blog...Sorry

Wow...I have so many things to do today. Blogging is at the bottom of this ridiculously long list.
Wait a second, I need to put the clean wash in the dryer.

OK, I'm back....I am just writing this short note to beg forgiveness from my fans who check these musings daily. Actually, I don't really think more than 2 dozen people check in on the weekend. My theory is that people read blogs on company time, which is kinda like stealing, don't 'cha think?

If I ...hang on..the timer just went off for my baking goods in the oven....
ok, where was I?

Oh, yeah..if I were to calculate how long people were emailing or blogging on company time it might look something like this:
Person making $20/hour (heck, that is 33 cents/minute!) IF one checks email once and/hour - 5 minutes/each time X 7 hours = 35 minutes.
Writing/reading blogs - 35 minutes/day. 70 minutes/day is what my calculation comes to and I might be conservative in some case or LIBERAL in others. But can you imagine at the end of the day when you leave the office/store/school/church or wherever you work..and your boss has his/her hand out and you have to pay them 33 cents for every minute you were doing personal stuff on company time?

OH, wait...I need to write 4 checks for bills to get in the mailbox before the letter carrier comes....

Wow...no time to write today...sorry...go back to work if you're reading this Tuesday....remember over this Labor Day weekend how lucky you are to have a job to labor at!

And please don't take the time to comment on this short blog...you'll owe another 99 cents or so...

The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round....

Have you noticed that school has started? There are just a FEW clues...and they all begin with the word BUS.
It doesn't matter when I leave my surburban, middle class neighborhood, the yellow,
50-seat child taxis are EVERYWHERE. There is no out-foxing them. I can try to scoot out of my driveway at 6 a.m., 7:40 a.m...8:18 a.m., 9:25 a.m. but there they are...with their lights flashing and an ominous STOP sign craned to the side.
These 80 foot vehicles stop every 38 feet to pick up just ONE more tow-head, boarding with an over-sized Superman back-pack and Barbie lunch box (whoops..USUALLY not the same child).
I can remember "the good old days", when I said to myself, "I will never NEVER use the expression "good old days".
(This won't be the first time I've broken one of my own antique promises.)
Any student (WAY back then) taking a bus would have to live more than 5 miles from the school or show the principal either your broken bicycle or in-operable roller skates.

The bus would only slow to a slight halt as a challenge to boarding. The "stop" was the corner that was at least 5 blocks away. You never saw what I have seen during these past two inaugural weeks of the start of school. Parents are driving to the bus stop to see little Johnnie off! Some are even shooting a video, complete with lights and cue cards, (some just hire a videographer) filming Junior climbing the stairs to his air-conditioned bus. (complete with surround sound, captain chairs and a bus-line attendant serving gummie bears & kool-aid)

Oh, that reminds me....may I have a side-bar for a moment?
THIS STORY IS THE TRUTH..NO JOKE..I"M SERIOUS!

The other day I was in a Doctor's office waiting room and a typical 10 year old "Johnnie" was there with his nagging Mother. She was rifling through his Super-hero back-pack and she found his reading assignment. She said, "Little Johnnie, it says here that you have to read a bibliography in the next two weeks. I don't think Star Wars will count"!
He responds with a bratty little exasperated sigh, "so, what's a bibliography"?
She explains with full authority, "you know...it's a..well, it's a story written about the life of a person."

(I'm thinking.."did I hear her right? Isn't that a BIOGRAPHY?")

To make matter worse and much harder for me to control my gales of stifled laughter, she went on to ask him who he wanted to read about for his Bibliography...and rattled off, to his dis-interest, about 45 people living and dead. I was so grateful when "tortured Johnnie" was called into the Doctor's office (followed by his Mother mumbling, "What about George Harrison?").

Well, I'm off to meet my great-nephew Griffin's school bus. It's a treat, actually, because I only get to do it once in a while ~ and I love seeing the little guy.
Thank heavens they drop him off right in front of the house! I can sit in the driveway and do crossword puzzles while I wait.

Today I will leave my video camera at home. He says it embarrasses him.

A Picture Is Worth...Whatever

I just read an article about news anchor Katie Couric. It "appears" that a magazine photo editor got a little zealous in his altering of Katie's picture that was taken for an article. He made her look 20 pounds thinner by using an "air-brush" technique. She claims she liked the "before" picture better as there is more of her to love.
Yeah, right....what woman wouldn't want to look 20 pounds thinner? ...Take the likes of Laura Boyle and Nicole Richie, who together might have to be thrown back in the lake if caught.
Do you think the photo editor didn't like Katie's figure? Will they sell more magazines if she looks like she and Richard Simmons are best friends?

After seeing the movie, "Devil Wears Prada", it made me think that there is another world out there in New York and California. Then I woke up from my dream and realized that this thought process is prevelant everywhere.
A new store opened here locally in Cincinnati called Beauty is Important.
I did a double-take when I saw it. I guess they never heard the saying "Beauty is only skin deep".

At any rate, maybe I'll stop in and visit them. They may have air brushes on sale.

Some Dirt is a Mystery

I don't understand why we need to wash our towels. If I just took a shower and soaped up and rinsed off, then why should the towel that I dab myself dry with need to be washed? This question has perplexed my for years. It's a mystery.

Another ponderance...why does the inside top of my washing machine get dirty? I don't mean "dust-dirty", but "need-to-use-soap-to-clean-it" dirty. How can semi-dirty clothes create a dirt event. (let's face it, I don't work as a landscaper and I'm too prissy to perspire, so my clothes hardly get soiled)
Maybe someone sneaks into the house to put dirt and crud on the inside lid of the washer? It's a mystery.

Why do we bother washing our hands at a public restroom and then use our freshly washed hands to open a germ-infested door? It's a mystery.

Why do we shake hands with people? I believe that greeting dates back to the old days when everyone lived in the land of mis-trust and shook hands to ensure that the other person didn't have a gun. Hmmmm..I guess that one is not such a mystery these days.

No Answers from the Answering Machine

Did you ever analyze what Answering Machines really do?
They are supposed to answer-the-ring...but in fact, there are no answers given. When I get one of those fun, clever messages like, "not here..you know what to do"...I have received absolutely NO answers as to where my intended communicatee is...when will they return? How can I reach them now, when I want to talk? What are they doing now? Can they loan me the money or not??

These units should be officially called "entertainment machines". They must give some jollies to the person who owns them. They can leave a sarcastic recording saying, "hey, if you're a bill collector, don't call back...and if you found my pet snake, you can keep it, if you're my Mother-in-law, we moved..everyone else can leave a message."
Or...my favorite is when a small child who can barely mumble leaves a cutesy message about her parents being busy and she's not allowed to disturb them.


The other side of the "entertainment value" is when the owner of this favorite toy comes home and listens to the ramblings of frustrated callers (of course, this is assuming that said person has not already heard the message by screening the call!)

I, personally, like to use up the entire time by chattng on and on. I suppose I figure that is divine retribution for not picking up the phone then and there. My Dad, on the other hand, would leave the most cryptic words, "Call your Father."
My brother would say, "Peg, call me as soon as you can..it's important." There was nothing Dave ever said that WASN'T important..to HIM.
But I would panic (my nature) and think something was wrong and I was needed to change into my cape with the "S" on it to swoop in and save the day. Most of the time, he wanted to tell me his latest review of the last movie he saw.

I'm going to go change all my answering mach...whoops....ENTERTAINMENT machines messages to something clever and glib. Maybe I'll sing my message. Maybe I'll buy one of those pre-recorded celebrities telling people how very busy and in demand I am.

Call me!

Find a Bail Bondsman!

How can we possibly know ALL the laws of our wonderful land?
Here are some legalities we should all be aware of when in Ohio.

A policeman may bite a dog to quiet him.....wouldn't you love a video of that?


• Breast feeding is not allowed in public. What about newborn animals? Keep them in the house, I guess.

• Cars are not allowed to scare horses in Centerville, Ohio. ....Just ride your horse around 675 and avoid Centerville, if they are going to be like that!


• Cleveland: It's illegal to catch mice without a hunting license!....so, that's why my basement rodent residents ask to se my licnse all the time.

• Clinton County: Any person who leans against a public building will be subject to fines. Crud! And I was just going to take a spin out there for some end-of-summer-leanin' time...

• Columbus: It is illegal for stores to sell corn flakes on Sunday.....but they have a HUGE sale on Saturdays!


• In ohio it is illegal to ride on the roof of a taxi cab Another fun idea out the window!

• In ohio it is illegal to run out of gasWHOA! Who hasn't broken THAT law around 3:30 p.m. after a big lunch and boring meeting and...whoops..or do they mean your CAR?

• In Oxford, Ohio, it's illegal for a woman to strip off her clothing while standing in front of a man's picture...does that make it ok if she is standing BEHIND the picture? (Careful, new teachers in town!)

• It is illegal for more than five women to live in a house. What about convents?? Arrest them all!

I wonder if there is a law about making fun of our Great Ohio Laws on a blog?
Uh, I need a little help here......

Why, I Just Love Your Southern Drawl!

I read in the newspaper that a Farmer in England is telling the press that cows have different accents, depending upon what cow tribe they are in. Then the article goes on to say that research has shown that birds also have various dialects.

Is this going to change my life one iota? (what IS an "iota" anyway?)
Do I give a whistle if a cow moos with a southern drawl or adding a New England "R" at the end of the moo? Do I care if it says "soda" or "pop" in moo-language?

And as far as birds go...they can tweet in Russian and I wouldn't know the difference.

And I hope that there is not a $500,000 study being funded by tax dollars to inform us that Bessie moos in Latin on occasion.

I think the article is "Udderly" for the "birds"...put THAT in your beak and chirp it.

Hi, My Name is Peggy and I'm a Greeting Card Addict

I am a greeting card junkie. I LOVE to find the cutest, the most clever, wittiest, award-winning-humorous, drop-dead hysterical card for ANY occasion. I giggle as I send it off to someone who I know will "have their day made" because of my thoughtfulness.
Most recently I have found the best cards at the Thunderbird Car Wash in West Chester, Ohio. I go there once a month, not to have my car washed (they are way too expensive), but because they change out their cards that often. Sometimes I'll go in and the owner will say, "Oh, sorry, Peggy, Ginny (not her real name) hasn't come in yet this month to switch out the cards." I hide my disappointment by reviewing the stale cards I perused 4 weeks earlier and leave, only to return daily to see if lazy ole Ginny has come back yet to do her job.

I have bought cards from just about every store for every possible event. My selection goes from birthday, to graduation, to new job, to illness, to wedding, to THANKS for whatever, to new home, to new puppy, to new baby, to coping with your divorce, to "sorry they died". Kinda in that order. I actually have a mini-card store in my office so I can whip off the "sorry you broke your fingernail" card the minute I get the news.

I only buy cute, funny cards. Even for funerals. I figure there must be something to laugh about when thinking of Uncle Harold.
And forget the cards with flowers on them and sentimental sayings. I think they must be the cheapest...I had an Aunt who gave me those kind every birthday. She would hand-carry it to my parents so she would avoid paying for the postage. She would then write in pencil, "Love, Aunt Catherine...p.s. you can erase this and send it on to someone else!"
I remember getting them from her when I was in grade school! Can you imagine me passing those off on my school yard pals?

My ultimate favorite cards are Maxine cards..oh, and the silly puppy cards..oh,
and then there's the ~ "baby-talking-to-you-while-he-is-in-the-bathtub-with-another-baby-
who-has-a-funny-hat-on" cards.

I think my addiction peaked when I bought 34 singing cards at Hallmark. They have these great songs that play whn you open them...a wide variety from the 70's bubble gum to Broadway shows. The clerks couldn't wait until I left because I was there for 6 hours, playing every single one. I even left for lunch and came back and I over-heard one of them mumbling something about "why doesn't she get a life?" Ha!
I wanted to tell her, "I'm keeping you employed aren't I?" But then I found a singing card that I bought for her instead, "Keep Your Sunny Side Up". It brought her to tears (that's the best, when a fun card can make 'em cry!).
She's my new best friend now. AND I get discounts on my cards!

Paper Jam

What would we do without paper?
We start the day and end the day with paper...(TP)

I make my breakfast by getting my groceries out of the PAPER bag and unwrapping the bread from it's PAPER covering. I get my butter, wrapped in PAPER, out of the refrigerator, and use a PAPER napkin to dab my ever-so-delicate mouth of toast crumbs. I dry my dish with a PAPER towel (unless I use a PAPER plate).

I look up in my PAPER TV guide what shows I want to tape for the day.

Usually I head to my office to work on my book. Today I unwrapped a ream of PAPER..that is wrapped in PAPER to print off my work, while
yesterday I copied some cute photos from my digital camera on some glossy PHOTO PAPER.
Mid-morning I take a break by reading the newsPAPER as I drink some water from a PAPER cup.

Today I am mailing off a birthday package to a friend and I am including a very funny card from Hallmark that is made out of PAPER and the clerk included one of those H Hallmark seals made out of..."you know what". I will cushion the present in tissue PAPER and send it off wrapped in festive PAPER and mail it in a big PAPER padded envelope.
I hope to receive a thank you note written on PAPER.

Oh, around mid-afternoon, it's time to retrieve the mail. Naturally, I receive mostly bills and un-solicited magazines, (no thak yhou nogts yet) both coming in assorted types, colors, weights and sizes of PAPER.
Since I have received bills, I must get out my checks, that happen to be printed on cute (SNOOPY theme..since I'm usually in the "dog-house" with my bills) PAPER.

Just look around you and observe the prevalence of PAPER-products in your life.
Most games are made of some kind of paper. (BINGO - It's all about the PAPER; GOLF ~ Score-card; FOOTBALL ~ playbook; BRIDGE ~ cards and tally sheet; BOWLING ~ ok, that's not a good example since they've gone to the electronic scoring..but...WAIT...what about the obligatory candy item purchased that has the PAPER wrapping, huh? GOTCHA!)

Then think about the containers for PAPER products!

Now, let's think of the TREES and the kinds of TREES that are supporting our addiction to PAPER...........................!
That may have to be another day.

Or..just use your computer/palm pilot/blackberry/laptop to communicate, pay bills and play games and order pizza.

Shaving Time

I have had a ridiculously crazy schedule during these past few weeks. It seems as though I need every spare minute that I can manage to accomplish all tasks at hand. So I decided to take some ideas from the great movie, the "Original", Cheaper By The Dozen.

I was in the shower the other day reviewing my jam-packed day and starting to hyper-ventilate realizing that I had 12 hours to get 25 hours of various "stuff" done. That's when I recalled the afore-mentioned movie. In that film the father of 12 kids chose crazy methods to get them organized and be "time efficient"....like, they were timed buttoning their shirts up vs. down and the results saved 2 seconds. That doesn't sound like a lot but when multiplied by 365 days/year..and then add other chores that have been trimmed in time, well, one can fulfill their daily obligations with time to spare!!

So, I decided to try "time-trimming" in the shower by alternating shaving just one leg and underarm every other day. I got excited at this prospect as this would save me at last 2 minutes/day..X 365 days a year and I get...well, I don't have my calculator with me but I'm sure my time saved is well over an afternoon at the pool.
Then I didn't like the way I felt kinda lop-sided, with hair on one side of the body out-weighing the other, so I tried shaving just the lower half of the
legs and the inner half of the underarm. I understand the Europeans when they just say "Forgetaboutit"...but they say it in some sexy European accent which makes it ok.

I understand men who have the old "Don Johnson" (now Ryan Seacrest?) 4 day-growth of beard...they are "cool" .
I DON'T understand all these men shaving their heads...there is nothing cool or time efficient in that.

Well, here I am babbling on and on and I'm only blogging today so people will get off my case for not blogging for a while, But now you know why..
My shaved legs were more important than rambling on..and on...

Oh, *&%@&! Technology Hits Again!

Boston has stubbed my toe with some of their hi-tech equimpment on numerous occasions. Today's subject spotlights their self-parking garage pay machines.
I have, in the past in Ohio, been in a situation where I had to use the annoying "no attendant so pay with exact change over there" lot...

"Over there" consists of a 6'x3'metal stand that has tiny pay-slots whose numbers coincide with the 3 digits lightly painted under where your car is parked. If you are in a hurry (and who isn't when parking downtown?), you probaby didn't notice the worn bits of chipped white paint as you parked. Now you have to run back, start your car, back up and get out to try to figure out if your number is 132 or 182 ~ then re-park and return to the "PAY-ME OR NEVER SE YOUR VEHICLE AGAIN" metal money grabber. The slots to aim your "exact change" of $8.95 are so miniscule, it takes 20 minutes just to crease and fold your dollar bills to try to jam in the tiny mouth that is surely laughing its aluminum head off.

So, enough about the "old way" of collecting money for your car to sit for 45 minutes...(Heaven knows we have enough people in this country who need work, couldn't a few be change makers at a parking garage?)

In Boston, they have these sharp, educated whipper-snappers who invented a machine to use a credit card or dollar bills for your parking lot bill. Parking costs are so outrageous in downtown Bean-town that to park one's vehicle for 60 minutes it will lighten your purse by $30.00.

I was running late to board a "free" boat ride around the Boston Harbor..I couldn't find any where to park. The garage across the street was closed for construction. The Hotels within a mile all require that you are a guest to use their valet parking. So, after spending 3 gallons of gas and 48 minutes looking within 7 blocks of the boat docks for a inexpensive place to park, I whipped my rental car into this garage that spit out a ticket before I had a chance to read the hourly rates. Heck, I was going to miss my "free" boat ride!
Anyway, I found a spot and made it to the boat with seconds to spare. After enjoying a nice 2 hours sitting in the harbor in th same spot looking at the same skyline and hearing 120 minutes of history, I headed back to my car. As I entered the parking garage, I noticed a machine about the same size as a soda vending machine. It was a nice shiny silver and had words painted on it like "PAY HERE"..
I never noticed this machine when hurrying out of the garage after running down 8 flights of stairs because the elevator wasn't working.
The machine informed informed me in smaller print that I had to have my ticket to insert in this machine and then I could use cash or a credit card.
Of course, guess where my ticket was...yup..8 flights up. So, I checked the elevators that still were wearing their signs, "OUT OF ORDER" (I swear, when judgment day comes and I approach the Pearly Gates, it better not have those words greeting me)
So, I hiked up the stairs..retrieved the ticket, and walked (crawled) down the stairs. I waited for the other 4 people to pay for their parking fee to finish and I stuck my ticket in...fed my Discover card in the credit card slot..and waited..and waited...and after 12 minutes (I was still recovring from the stair master), I noticed the credit card emblems that they had glued on the machine did not include Discover. Hmmmm.....the unit had eaten my card. I immediately started to glisten..(perspire)...and panicked...I thrust another card in to retrieve the Discover card. Now both cards are being ingested by BIG "PAY-ME" BULLY. I had figured that the machine couldn't handle two cards so it would release both of them..like a high school wrestler trying to "make weight".

Ok, so I got lucky. A woman who was sweeping the garage came by and had a nail file and with a flick of the wrist, she recovered both of my cards. She suggested that I pay cash and I did just that. Whew...I got my receipt from paying my $30.00 snd headed up the stairs, glad that this fiasco was over. As I was gasping for air on the 5th floor I realized that the nice, helpful garage employee never gave me back the two credit cards! I raced back down, and spent 2 hours looking for Ms. Wonderful. I never found her..and now I had parked more than the 15 minute grace period they allow you to get your car out of the garage..and I have no more cards..and no more cash.

The only end to this story comes by my saying my sales experience helped me out of this one. When I finally found a security guard, I just burst into tears and grabbed his leg and sobbed.

If I ever go back, I'll take the subway...and I'll have exact change.

Challenged by even the not-so-technical Stuff

I have just returned from a quick trip to Boston, the land of educational institutions. I read once that there are more buildings of higher education per person than anywhere else in the world. (But don't believe all that you read) Maybe with all this intelligence roaming the always-under-construction streets, that is the reason for some new-fangled servcies that I haven't found a plethora of here in Ohio.

Oh, I do have one side-bar question - with all these well-educated people, how does it happen that the "BIG DIG" done gone wrong? WRONG in a HUGE way. Rumors have it that not only is the Ted Williams tunnel faulty with it's bolts that hold 123 billion tons of water out, but it was built too low to the ocean floor..so if a big ship comes in, LOOK OUT! But I digress.

OK, so here I am in the Boston Logan airport. I decide to "use the facilities"...and when I stand up from my brief relief, I can't find the handle to flush. Of course, I'm not completely ignorant....I know it is an automatic flush so I stand back awaiting the "big flush"...nothing...nada...I must have spent 43 minutes looking for the hidden "emergency handle". (ok, not 43 minutes but it seemed that way)
I finally shrug my shoulders and give up and leave the stall and lo and behold, when I am about 6 feet away, I hear the hidden flush-man doing his job. That's bothersome to me.

Now I am more than ready to wash my hands. It is now like a scavenger hunt to try to find how the soap dispenser is going to work and whether the fawcet will work at all.
Usually, there is the soap dispenser on the wall that has a little drop down apparatus that one either pulls, pushes up, or slides sideways. This particular restroom had a two fawcets sitting next to each other...and not the "turn-the-hot-or-
cold-water" kind. No, that would be too easy. The fawcets I am used to actually say "hot" and "cold" and it's easy! I observed as others approached the scenario with almost as much confusion and trepidation as I had.
I finally notice someone else waving their paw under one fawcet and getting a dribble of soap...then waving their hands under the other and getting water...for 3 seconds. It took me 4 passes under the soap and 5 under the water to really wash my hands.
Now I have been in this restroom so long, I am afraid I am going to miss my RETURNING flight due out in 5 days!

Now I moved to the hand dryer. What ever happened to paper towels?
Now I either crank, push or wave. This one you had to sing to. They have various songs that it will react to but I chose, "What a Wonderful World"..I have to admit that people applauded when I finished...hands dry in just 4 versus. I thought I was receiving the standing ovation because of my singing, but I did hear the person standing five behind me whisper, "Thank heavens she is finally gone"...

The Perks of a Grand Opening

I read in the paper that a new "prototype" Kroger store was going to be opening at 8 a.m. today. The first 300 people through the door would receive a $10.00 Kroger card. I convinced my friend, Suzi, and my nephew Sean to go and reap the same benefits I knew I would get.

Sean arrived 4 minutes before we did and received his $10.00 card and a rose.
The problem was, the store ACTUALLY opened at 7 a.m. and thus...WE missed the first 300 lucky ducks by 14 "guests". We DID receive a rose, however...AND the listening pleasure of a local high school marching band playing (quite loudly) as they paraded around the beets, tomatoes and lettuce. Then there was the obligatory clown sweltering in his costume so I don't know how "Funny" he might have been.

By the way, there were about 45 people walking around in tuxedos asking if we needed any help..or questions answered..(not ONE knew the capital of Wyoming)..and then they always punctuated the conversation with, "Enjoy your shopping experience, as a guest, you're important to us"...as I started to leave with my cart overflowing, the security guard asked for my receipt. I told him if I were a true GUEST, do I have to PAY for my experience? I've NEVER charged any guest at my home for their dinner. AND I give out free doggie bags filled with left-overs! (now I suppose a small tip WOULD be appreciated)

So, back to the "experience"..Joe Nuxhall (former Reds pitcher and semi-retired sports broadcaster) was signing autographs in the furniture section. (this "prototype Kroger prides itself in being "more than food" so they have about 6 chairs and 3 picture frames and 10 towels to buy too)

One could have eaten enough in free food samples to prepare for 4 weeks on Survivor Island. I missed the samples of Pepto Bismal..

We received a free emergency kit. I haven't had an emergency yet so I don't know what is in it.

Although we missed our $10.00 gift card, we utilized a 10% off your purchase certificate that we received in the mail. Using that, along with my discount Kroger PLUS card, I received $19.95 off my groceries that I ultimately HAD to go back and pay for or end up with a FREE ride to the pokey.

This Krogers has a gas pump that as a member of the "Kroger Family" (first I'm a GUEST, then a FAMILY MEMBER..but I still have to pay?), I received 10 cents off every gallon of gasoline I purchase. Again, there was yet another tuxedoed gentleman dispensing coupons at the pump so I received: 2 dozen eggs; 1 lb of bacon; 2 pounds of Dole lettuce (isn't that the brand that had comtaminated product a few weeks ago?) AND my gas was 10 cents cheaper! I only filled 2 gallons but it was worth it for the coupon-freebies, right?

The only problem, I mused as I drove off, was that if I had gone to Walmart, I might not have spent a total of $198.76 for my $23.00 of "freebies".

I guess the "tuxedos" are counting on that.

Senior Moments

I remember when my 50th birthday rolled around...I received an un-solicited AARP membership card. ARGHH!!

But the sting went away as I realized I would not be enjoying TRUE senior discounts for years. AARP is just selling their membership and will probably lower the age to 35 in a couple of years. Hey, I just turned 55 in February and feel like I'm in my mid 30's (whoops, my mid-30's weren't that great..but that's another blog).

This week I felt a much bigger sting...like a mammoth Texas-sized yellow-jacket poised to munch on me big time...and it all happened in just one day.

I went to Frisches Big Boy for lunch and almost fell out of my booth when my eyes (bifoculed at that) glanced over at the Senior Menu - Age 55 and older.

WHAT?!!??!

I had actally been considering ordering a salad that would have saved me $1.20 on that "older" menu, but I decided to change my order to an entree not available to those with dentures.

I then determined that maybe at my age, I needed some exercise so I went to a local golf course that I had never played before. When I asked the golf pro how much the green fees were, he just pointed to a sign that said in big letters "Senior discount ~ age 55+ on Tuesdays"

After my golf round (yes, I used a cart, it was in the "Special!"), I headed straight to the "19th hole" to dull my "senior sorrows". I ordered a Bloody Mary from a very cheery 21 year old, size 2, former cheerleader-bartender. She served it up and said, "This is your lucky day, it's senior citizen happy hour and your drink is half off".
SHE DIDN'T EVEN ASK TO SEE MY ID!

Just as I was about to get really DEPRESSED, I calculated how much money that I saved that day.

Today, I am in a much better mood and I am writing letters to about 17 various companies that I deal with trying to convince them that they ought to lower their "senior discount" age from 60 to 55. That's My speed now and I might as well make the most of it!

Embarrassments Arrive Daily at My House

So, it was a nice lazy Sunday...although quite hot & humid...and I finally decided to take a late shower at 5:30 p.m.
I always enjoy my post-shower ritual of dabbing moisturizing cream on my face, arms and legs to smooth out the increasing wrinkles and dry skin that is attacking me by Leather-lips himself.
I was in "my zone" of thinking about 1200 things that I need to do when the doorbell rang. That jolted me right out of this hemisphere and I hurridly threw on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt and ran to answer the door.

Standing there was a neighbor who was dressed to the nines (whatever that means) in a Sunday church dress and high heels. (Don't worry, she's a woman)
She looked at me a little odd as she asked for the $5.00 contribution towards the neighborhood block party.
I asked her to come in as I tried to dig up that amount.
Wouldn't you know ~ I had no money except the "throw your left-over change in a cup" stash. Church-lady seemed a little un-easy as I counted out the pennies, nickels and dimes (I save the quarters for buying the newspaper). I threw the $5.00 (that it took me 15 minutes to count out) in a baggie ~ and thanked her for stopping by as she mumbled "no problem" as she bolted and clicked her stillettos down the walk like she was late for choir practice.
(she also ignored the extended hand I offered as a "sign of peace")

As I headed back to the bathroom, I was startled by the face that stared in astonishment back at me in the mirror. I had dabbed the cream about my face and appendages but in my haste, I had not rubbed it in so I looked like a painted warrier from Zumbowow!

......and I'll bet my neighbor never even noticed how smooth my skin is.

150 Minutes with Children

YESTERDAY -

They came..and they went.

There were only 5 sweet little darling children of various ages.

It was only 2 and 1/2 hours.

1 - 6 week old baby who was really hungry
2- 5 year old boys with energy that any utility company would pay billions to harness.
1- 15 month-old boy who wants to dissect anything expensive ~ telephones, computer keyboards, computer video games, etc.
1 - 11 year old girl who, thank heavens, was there to help the other 3 adults!

1- basement with way too many options for game-playing and chances to argue over who gets to sit in one of four identical seats.

They came...and they went.

It was only 2 and 1/2 hours.

TODAY

I slept just 2 and 1/2 hours longer than usual.

Children are a Blessing, Right? Huh? Hello?

I just read about a 40 year old woman who gave birth to two sets of twins...no, that's not right..quadruplets. That would be FOUR children....at one time!!

After spending just 1 hour babysitting a 5 year old and a 14 month old who is faster than a speeding bullet, I cannot comprehend having FOUR children of the same age to care for. Especially when they don't get returned in a couple of hours to a set of parents.

But here's the real kicker ~ this mother gave birth to triplets 3 years ago!
(No, I'm not kidding..I did NOT read this in one of the smut-reputable magazines in line at Kroger, nor did this happen in the country of Baliwanna.)

So, now do you want to know what the "kicker-kicker" is?

Drum roll please....

This Mom said after the triplets were born, she was done having children. Could it be because she already had THREE kids before the trio?
She now she has TEN!!

Remember the nursery rhyme about the old lady in the shoe.."she had so many children, she didn't know what to do..."? She was no old lady, she was just 34 but LOOKED 93 because she had 8 children!

Back to the news story facts..the final line read, "The Mother is happy because she and the children are healthy, although she is a little nervous about being overwhelmed."

'Ya think?

p.s. No mention of the Father...he might have been in the same hospital having "a delicate elective surgical procedure"....or heart failure.

164 Day till Christmas!

Don't you think we all are just a tiny bit pre-occupied with TIME?
Now, stay with me, this will only take 2 minutes! We'll be done in a flash!
Oh, wait a second, I have to turn off my kitchen timer for my brownies.

OK, now, where were we?

OH, yeah, time. Today I read that the retail stores are already ordering their Christmas inventory....mid July...WOW. I still haven't played with all the games I "borrowed" from my nephews from LAST Christmas.

Do we ever have enough TIME to complete anything? How many times have you heard the breathless exasperation, "Where does the TIME go?"...or ~ "I don't have the TIME to do that"...or ~ "I just ran out of thyme"....(whoops..that might have been the le="font-weight:bold;">spice in a recipe from Martha...sorry that got thrown in there)

Are we just lousy at time management?
Certainly we have many more creature comforts and assistants than our fore-fathers and fore-mothers did to make our life easier and more manageable.
I can't imagine how my life would be if I had to head to the stream to beat my clothes clean. And if TV wasn't around to suggest which rock was the best at keeping my frock fresh and fluffy, I would waste time trying out a bunch of them!
Goodness, that task alone would have taken all day! Then I would NEVER have time to microwave dinner! Whoops...back "in the old days" there were no kitchen gadgets..I would have had to make my own fire and grow my own pepperoni for the pizza I would have to make from scratch.

Then where would I be as far as time goes?
I wouldn't have time to go to the movies, watch So You Think You Can Dance, General Hospital and Oprah. If I couldn't watch Oprah, I wouldn't know what books to read.
But then again, I wouldn't have time to read.

I'm not one to wear a time-piece. I am just one of those annoying individuals who keep asking everyone else what time it is, all the while boasting that "I am no slave of the clock".

Now I have to admit that I am a list-maker. I write out every night a time-table as to the projects I am to do and mark a time allotment next to the task. It is the ONLY way I get anything done. I adhere to it and never waiver. By just setting one of the 12 timers I have strategically placed around the house, I keep tight to my schedule. When that timer goes off, I am on to my next task.

I'm looking at my list of things to do and the next one is a doozy...it may make headlines...wish I could tell you but the timer just went off.

I was lucky enough to spend an afternoon at the swimming pool with my great nephew, Griffin, who is 5 years old, going on 15. We had such a good time playing water tag, torpedo under Peggy's legs, throwing the...well, it doesn't matter..whatever happens to be around, we throw.

When anyone asks him what his favorite thing is about the pool, he will flash an un-comparable grin and proceed to ramble on for 3 minutes, ending his enthusiasm with ~ "EVRYTHING IS AWESOME!"

What a great attitude he has!
On the way home he was yelling out his open car window more unbridled enthusiasm: "I love you, cars...I love you, trees, I love you stop sign, I love you Post Office, I love you man wearing a black shirt, I love you branches..."

For just an afternoon, he was the happiest boy in the world, as well as
one of the best teachers ~ with me being his student.
He taught me to stop the world every now and then and just...LOVE..love whatever you do and think it is AWESOME.

Thanks, Griff.

Lights, Camera, Action!

I feel sometimes like I am the Oscar winning director of my own personal made-for-TV movie ~ "Peggy's Life As An Perfect Person"


Ok, Ok, we can change the title depending upon what day of the week it is.
Maybe we even can alter it daily.

But seriously, don't you sometimes think that you are the one who is orchestrating the world around you? You, and only you, are the ONLY sole person with the correct perspective and everyone else is looney tunes?
And YOU, and you alone, can control all activities and feelings of those around you at any time.

Now, as you read the daily news and shake your head glancing at the most ridiculous stories, you can revel in the fact that your world is certainly NOT this world everyone READS about every day. Your world is organized, moral, law-abiding and happy.

Gosh, I sound like Bree on that Housewives Show on Sunday night.
Whoops, she is a murdering, alcoholic, irresponsible baby-sitter of a neighbor.

Well, maybe I just WISH I had more influence over this crazy world we live in.
Like, I wish I could control the lousy pitching of our sliding Reds team...or maybe finally find the killer of Jon Bennet...or try to re-write most of the words that rappers sing these days...or get people to look up to God for answers instead of the local drug-dealers.

If I were the world's director, I would make sure that people like the woman who adopted 14 children who all had "challenging" issues starred in the movie...instead of people like Colin Farrell and Russell (Mr."Phone-a-friend") Crowe.

And I would have TV soaps have less sex and more humor.

I would have the best commercials aim at selling cheap cameras to save memories instead of drinking Bud-Lite at every sporting event.

Oh, and I would take out all the soda out of vending machines and replace them with water and wine...er, I mean, naturally fortified liquids.

CUT...PRINT...send to editing.

I doubt if this will ever win any awards.

I Think I'm Allergic to the HEAT

Some people LOVE hot weather...I LOVE air-conditioning!

There is nothing of benefit to me when the sun beats down so hard that my make-up melts. I take on the features of person being tested in a G-force machine or maybe I look more like a bassit hound..on a bad day. Perspiration (or "moisture pellets" as my Mom used to say") that runs, not walks, down my eyebrows and follows the contour of my chin(s) is not only un-attractive, it qualifies for offering ridiculous stories like, "I'm on my way to a Halloween party..this is my costume."

I haven't heard the weather-forecasters talk about the "wind-chill factor" since March and I so miss that daily winter calculation. I guess when it is 90 degrees and there is a 5 m.p.h. breeze, it doesn't qualify for a mention. Maybe it wouldn't effect the clothes to be worn.

Oh, and the most obnoxious comments about the heat are: "Oh, it's a DRY heat..not bad at all" ~ WHAT??
So I feel microwaved and should feel ok about it because I'm not using windshield wipers on my upper lip??

I dread the comment: "I love the to putter in the garden in the hot weather because I work up a great sweat and feel like I've really been working."
Now THIS person needs counseling. Just contact any relative of Naomi Judd or Liza Minelli and they can tell you where the best 45 day recovery clinic is.

Hmmm..it seems as though I am getting "hot under the collar" about this "hot topic"..and am not exuding enough personal "warmth".

Deal with it..or just wait ~ I promise I'll be nicer in the fall.

A Child's First Business Venture

Today I stopped at a child-run lemonade stand that was a wee bit different from my first cold-drink stand. I suppose it is some kind of right of passage as an optimistic kid to at least ATTEMPT to sell something for what is thought to be a profit-maker like no other child had ever made in the history of a pre-teen business venture.

I remember my first try...I was about 4 or 5 years old and my little neighborhood friend Cathy and I decided to ask our Moms if we could sell kool-aid in front of my house.
Back in 1956, kool-aid came in packets that you ripped open and poured into a pitcher...add water and ice..find a few old cups around and BINGO!
You're in business!

We had to come to an agreement as to what flavor to sell. I liked grape and Cathy liked cherry. We settled that argument by my socking her in the eye and telling her that she couldn't be my 25% business partner unless she agreed with me.
So, grape kool-aid it was.

Next "challenge" ~ we needed a sign. I don't do signs so I made Cathy ask her Mom to produce the signage for our endeavor. I knew I could get MY Mom to help put up the card table and help me make the kool-aid (meaning that SHE did it).

The sign was made out of two pieces of paper taped together and in the middle of making the sign, Cathy's Mom had to answer the phone so Cathy had to finish it. Who knows how to spell Kool-aid at that age? Kule Ade was our business that day.

We decided that we would sell our libation for 10 cents a cup...or TWO for 15 cents.
(That idea was from my Dad...Mr. Super Salesman)
Mom suggested that we have a "bank" to provide change for our customers so I borrowed $1.25 in coins from her and off we went.

After 15 minutes, I told Cathy to take over the sales end while I checked our inventory. I went in the house and took a nap for an hour and when I returned, I saw that she made over 20 sales and even got a couple of tips. (tips were confiscated by me for rental of the card table).
All in all, we had a great time and it was quite a learning experience. (Cathy went on to become a lawyer..guess she never wanted her rights violated again)
We netted out $1.85 and spent it on candy.

Yesterday the lemondade stand was quite a bit different.
The stand was a computer desk that Bil Gates would have been proud to own. It held a food processor; a computer; printer; a small cash register and credit card machine.

Their sign looked like a New York Advertising Agency had produced it. It was even spelled correctly ~ although I'm sure they used a spell-checker.

The two little 7 year old sales-girls were dressed alike with t-shirts that had been embroidered with "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade"

They had REAL lemons that they put in the food processor and they served their drinks in souvenir mugs, which you could buy for an additional $8.00 (but it DID have that cute little saying etched on it)
The crystal sugar bowls offered sugar, sweet 'n low and splenda.

I think what really unnerved me was the fact that they even took American Express! But then again, for $3.50/serving, who carries that kind of cash?

As I walked away with my Mastercard receipt and my 6 souvenir mugs (yup, I'm a soft touch), I decided I was born just a few years too early.

I also tinkered with the idea of calling the IRS on them.