Feliz Navidad...

... and before you ask, no, I am not Hispanic, and yes, I call myself Christian. Some may wonder how I reconcile my lifestyle choices, philosophies, and religious convictions. Believe me, the inconsistencies exist only in the mind of the questioner.

How I met and fell in love with my Honey

This one is for Shana, who wanted to know how I met and fell for my Honey.

We didn't know each other before we attended Wolfson High School. If Wolfson hadn't been built, it's likely we would never have met. She would have continued attending Landon, and I would have attended Englewood, just because of where we lived. Our homes were separated by the district boundary, which in that area ran down Beach Boulevard. As circumstances had it, though, Wolfson was built, and for the reasons I described in my previous blog, we both ended up attending school there in the eleventh and twelfth grades.

Reflections

I had a short conversation with my Honey recently, about old friends, and she surprised me somewhat. I won't go into the events that led up to the conversation, but it went something like this:

"Is there anyone among your old school friends or classmates that you would like to see again, or make contact with?" I asked.

Christmas will be different...

... this year. No little ones to rush downstairs early on Christmas Day, raising all manner of ruckus. Everyone who previously spent their Christmas Eve and Day with us, has other plans this year. Not a bad thing, really, just different from what I'm used to.

The next sound you hear...

... will be the air rushing in to fill the vacuum at my old workplace.

I got a call today from a friend and former co-worker, to let me know about a retirement luncheon for yet another former co-worker. My buddy, JimB came to work at about the same time I did, reaching his 30th year about three weeks ahead of me. He hadn't orginally intended to retire so soon, but he changed his mind recently.  In discussing it with him, he told me that the deciding factor is the length of his commute to work.

In 1985, he was transferred from his previous duty station to Atlanta. His family had deep roots in the home they already had, and he and his wife didn't want to move. As a result he has to traverse 75 miles each way, every day ever since. That is love, folks. The mystery to me is not that he tired of it, but why did it take so long?

JimB is an asset that will be missed.

Downtime

Well, here we are again. Thanksgiving day is over, the kids have all gone home, and so have those members of the extended family that had to come some distance to be with us.  M&M couldn't be with us, and we missed them.

Taxation... again...

Here's a thought...

In my previous blog, I mentioned that the philosophy behind the progressive tax is that those who receive the most benefit from the protections of our society should pay the lion's share for those benefits. I still believe that this is a valid approach to taxation. The problem is: how do you effectively implement it?

Taxation

Any way you look at it, taxes are functionally the same as protection racket payments. When you pay taxes, you are paying someone else to protect your assets. When you pay the "Mob", you pay to protect your assets from the "Mob" and its competitors. When you pay the government, you pay to protect them from a larger variety of hazards, including those same criminals, as well as natural and man-made disasters, and ignorance, just to name a few.

What Would You Say? - Redux

The text of this post originally appeared as a response to comments upon a previous post, left by my beloved brother. That is not tongue-in-cheek, folks. I really do love my brother, though we frequently disagree. 

Given that his comments generally cause me to expend vast amounts of energy in composing rebuttals, they are among the few that I would have gone to the effort to reproduce here, but they disappeared when he vacated his MySpace™ profile. In the text that follows, the quoted segments were contained in my rebuttal, and excerpted from his original comments.

People Look At Me Funny...

I go through life with a soundtrack.  I grew up during a time when people sang, or played instruments, or both, all the time.  They did this instead of going to concerts or watching a performance on TV, mostly because at that time, no one could afford those things. But you know what?  I think they were happier, better adjusted people.

Heart Health

Hurrah!

Yesterday was a good day, in spite of the fact that my doctor tried to kill me.

You see, I've reached an age when both he and I want to establish the baseline state of my health, and what the impact of that is going to be on my future lifestyle. This requires that some tests be performed.  We just don't always agree on which ones should be done first.

What Would You Say?

Yesterday I got, as did some of you, a forward from Uncle W, containing a pic of a young boy, being handed a folded American Flag, at what was obviously intended to portray a military funeral. The subject line was:

"WHAT CAN YOU SAY TO THIS KID????"

Appliances

Life was simpler, before appliances. You might not believe that I'm old enough to remember, but I am.

You see, while I was growing up, some homes actually did have TV, washers, and dryers, even dishwashers!   Not everyone could afford them, though.  My parents didn't usually have to cope with broken appliances, for the simple reason that they usually didn't have any appliances at all, to speak of.

Two More Work Days!

Two more work days!

Thursday and Friday are it!  Although my "official" retirement date is to be September 30, that falls on a Sunday this year, so Friday is going to be my last day at work for my current employer. As the time approaches, more and more people pop out of the woodwork asking, "How are you going to avoid  boredom?" or "What are you gonna do with your time?" The fact is, I probably will have less unstructured  time.

Anticipation - or Anxiety?

Retirement!

By this time next month, I'll have been retired about 48 hours. How can one actually look forward to living on half his/her current gross annual income ? Fairly easily, actually, if you observe and remember that many people retire on even less - like whatever Social Security pays.

What Makes It Worthwhile

It's hard to believe!

Seems like just yesterday I stood before the minister, shocked at how beautiful she was in her wedding dress.

I did all right during the rehearsal, but when the real thing happened, I forgot most of what I was supposed to do. My knees went weak, and my tongue was too thick to get the words around. Somehow though, I survived the ceremony, and now 36 years later, being single is but a vague and mostly unpleasant memory.

My worst complaint is: Why is it I look that much older, while she still looks 22 to me?

Mariner

You Know You're Getting Old When..

... you turn around and someone has stolen all your children, and left adult strangers in their place...

... those self-righteous, know-it-all, ill-mannered, ill-tempered, obnoxious teen-agers suddenly turn into attentive, loving, considerate people...

... you get something in the mail, about someone's 40-year high school class reunion, and you realize it's yours...

... your children have children of their own...

... your children are taking care of their own problems...

... your children are taking care of your problems...

... your spouse suddenly has time to be attentive to you...

... you get up in the morning, and prepare to go to work, and ask yourself why...

... you care less about acquiring wealth than you do about spending it well...

... you find yourself crying because a beloved parent passed away fifteen years earlier...

... you realize that the only really important things in your life are your relationships with others...

Mariner