It says Stop, not Park!

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Why is it that some people just can’t drive??

I’m not talking about the really old — though goodness knows, they contribute to the problem by creeping, then slamming on their brakes every other minute.

I’m not talking about the really young — though they seem to be in a BIG hurry most of the time and are distracted with putting on eyeliner, talking on cell phones, fiddling with IPods, etc.

I’m referring to your average, run-of-the-mill driver, the one who never figured out what to do about Stop signs.

They get there and stop.

And wait.

And wait some more.

C’mon, people, why’d you get behind the wheel if you didn’t have any place to go??

Here’s a refresher on how it’s supposed to work:

  • If you’re the first one to get to an all-way intersection, you stop. And you go. Simple.
  • If you arrive at said intersection and others are already there, you have to wait until they’re all gone.
  • And if you get there at the same time as somebody else, you yield to the guy or gal on your right. Then you can go.

Don’t muck up the works by signaling somebody to go when it’s your turn.

You might think you’re being polite, but you’re just being confusing.

Don’t throw your car into Park and camp out for a spell, either.

That’s annoying.

Unless, of course, you like to have other drivers honk at you.

It’s a lesson everybody should have learned in kindergarten — take turns.

Don’t Worry!

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Have you ever noticed that most of the things we worry about and stress over don’t ever happen?

Take this past couple of weeks, for instance. I’ve been (at times) a bit frantic trying to figure out how I’m going to get all of My Favorite Domer’s STUFF back home from Notre Dame for the summer.

Besides clothing, his video game system, sports equipment, souvenirs, books, etc., he’d purchased this beast of a refrigerator along with a huge rug for his dorm room, and it was these last two items that were giving me sleepless nights.

We’d hauled him to South Bend in one car. Loaded to the gills, of course, but looking no worse than any of his fellow students.

So how was I going to get him home with more stuff??

Remember, he doesn’t have a car as a First-Year, and no way can I drive two cars at once!

So I checked into U-Haul rentals. Not too expensive, but I’ve never driven a car with a trailer attached and was leery about starting now.

I checked into renting an SUV. Way more expensive than I was willing tackle!

I called the Registrar’s Office and learned that some of the dorms actually store big items for the kids, then return them at the beginning of a new school term. Cool. Too bad MFD’s dorm wasn’t on that list.

I was about ready to suggest the kid sell his precious beastly fridge and rug. Shoot, somebody would probably grab them up in a heartbeat!

Then I remembered he wanted that stuff for next year, and we’d have to re-shell out the money for new ones. Yuck.

Before I could despair, he texted me and said he’d found some students who already rented storage units for the summer and he was going in with them.

Yeah!

Problem solved.

Guess that’s why my grandmother always used to say, “Worry’s a sin. It shows you’re not trusting God.”

Just lookin’ for some shorts

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Why is it I always seem to want something nobody’s making the year I want it?

I’m talking about clothes.

If I want a red polo shirt, for instance, the designers aren’t showing red. If I want a zip-up rain jacket, all I can find are snaps.

I went on “a hunt” the other day for some denim bermudas. Not just any pair would do. They had to fit, of course, and just about every pair I tried on looked as if I’d poured myself into them.

Don’t look now, but where are all those super-skinny women? Not in my town, that’s for sure!

Besides fit, what I really wanted was cargo pockets (even one would do!) tucked along the side of the leg. For my cell phone.

How hard can that be?

They make plenty of twill shorts with cargo pockets; they make crops with cute little ties at the leg openings AND cargo pockets.

They make denim skimmers that skim your knee. And denim capris. And crops. And full-length jeans. And short-shorts.

But no denim bermudas.

Finally, I got the idea to check the men’s section.

There were my bermudas, with cargo pockets no less!

But how many women can really wear men’s shorts? If you get the waist to fit, the hips and seat look like the Jones family moved out.

And is the circumference of a man’s leg really that much larger than a woman’s?

No, I’ll pass on that!

So, if you hear of any place that’s selling denim Bermudas with cargo pockets (for women), let me know, OK?

Give a little to get a little

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Well, it was bound to happen.

I almost had to fire my first client yesterday — not my first client, but the first time I came close to severing ties with any client.

We started off fine. He wanted a Website redesign and “X” was the amount he was willing to spend. I assured him I would do it, even though it was less money than I’d normally charge. Half a loaf is better than nothing, right?

Not always.

Then the project grew. He wanted:

  • photos — lots of ’em
  • contact information on every page
  • and new copy — keyword-rich copy that would propel him to the top in the search engine listings.

Now I never promise results in Website design. There are just too many variables with page rankings, and the darn search engines keep changing their parameters.

But I got busy and designed a killer home page. He loved it. Problem was, his cash flow had dried up, and he was going to have to scale way back.

Uh-oh.

Having already invested hours on this project, I wasn’t a happy camper.

When he suggested I “hook up the new home page with the old other pages” and we’d be done, I hit the roof.

I explained that aesthetically, a Band-aid approach wouldn’t fly.

He wasn’t listening.

So I slapped together the remaining pages, not wanting to expend any more time or effort on something that wasn’t paying squat.

Late that night, I got an angry message from him.

The next time we talked, we “duked it out.” I again explained what he needed and told him I couldn’t do it under such a meager budget. I volunteered to return his deposit, remove the pages I’d published for him, and turn him loose to find another designer.

Whoa, he said.

After much haggling back and forth, we finally agreed to finish the job we started.

I’d get more pay, he’d quit micro-managing, and I’d do him an awesome job.

Now that‘s what I call win-win!

Planned obsolescence

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Does anybody out there have the definitive answer to this one?

I’m wondering, is it better to:

a) leave your computer turned on and plugged in 24/7, or

b) turn it off and unplug.

I’m referring particularly to overnight, when you aren’t planning on using it for several hours and bad weather’s on the way.

The very night I posted my last blog, complete with photos of Spring foliage, we had a really wicked storm. Flashes of lightning, rain, and smacking thunderclaps — the whole ball of wax.

The weather forecasters had already predicted storms, so I turned off my computer and unplugged it, confident it would be safe from any jolt of electricity surging through the lines and wiping out my hard drive.

After all, something happened to my last computer’s motherboard, and I sure don’t want to go through that again!

Then I talked to one of my writer-friends, who said her computer-guru advised her to leave her machine on ALL the time.

Turning it on and off wears out the components, he said.

Huh?

How long will a computer last if you don’t wear out its components?

I might be wrong, but it seems to me that everything you buy these days comes with “planned obsolescence.”

Cell phone — 2 years, same as your contract.

Laptop — 3 years, maybe.

Car — 5 years, or the amount of time it takes you to pay off your note.

Even light bulbs.

My mom’s house, for example, was built 40-odd years ago, and the workers put in new light bulbs, some of which have never been changed! Try to say that about today’s light bulbs!

So who knows the answer to my question about computers — turn off and unplug, or leave on and plugged at all times?

Spring is finally arriving!

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I love Spring!

The world seems new again. The weather moderates, trees and flowers bud and bloom, baby birds fill empty nests, people go outside and reconnect with one another after virtually hibernating for months on end.

Yes, there are thunderstorms and tornadoes — the birth pangs of creation. Yes, there’s wind and rain. But there’s also so much beauty.

Take a look!

Red tulip among yellow daffodils

Blue hyacinths smell yummy!

Magnolia blooms begin to unfold

Yellow daffodils in full splendor

Making the Tough Decision

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A friend of mine had to make a tough decision yesterday.

Her dog disappeared overnight and, when she finally found it, it was bleeding and had curled up under an old parked car, presumably to die.

Of course, she rushed it to the vet’s office and had x-rays done.

The results weren’t good — the dog’s back was broken.

She had two options:

1) Send the dog up the road to the nearest veterinary college and let them operate, or

2) Have the dog put to sleep (euthanized) right then.

Not a real good way to end a month, huh?

Choice #1, surgery, didn’t carry any guarantees of success, despite the projected cost of several thousand dollars.

Choice #2 was a permanent solution and would end her dog’s life.

Reluctantly, she picked euthanasia.

As a lifelong dog owner, I feel her pain, and I know it’s going to take a long time for the ache in her heart to heal.

We get so attached to our pets. They gladly become our “babies,” our companions; they follow us around, tongue lolling, eyes bright, ever ready to play, to participate in something fun, to go for a walk or car ride, to lie at our feet and doze while we read or work on our computers.

Who could put a price on such loyalty?

Therefore, when “the time comes” to make the tough decision about when to end their lives, it’s incumbent on those of us who love them to make the kindest, gentlest choice.

They deserve nothing less.

And, while the Bible doesn’t directly address the question of whether pets go to Heaven, I believe they do!

Revelation 19 speaks of Jesus coming from Heaven to earth on a white horse.

So it seems perfectly possible that we will meet up with our beloved pets at the Rainbow Bridge — and what a reunion that will be!

“No Problem” . . . “Here Ya Go”

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Time for a little quiz, OK?

1) You’re clerking in a department store when a customer approaches and asks you to help her reach something hanging way up high. You do, she thanks you and you say, “No problem.”

Right?

Wrong! Your proper response is simply “You’re welcome.”

Thank you and You’re welcome — they just go together, y’know?

Same thing for flight attendants and waitresses. Customer asks for a refill, you provide it, he thanks you and what do you say?

“No problem.”

No problem? It better not be — that’s your job, isn’t it?

Let’s say it together — “You’re welcome.”

How about this one:

2) You’re a teller at a bank. A customer comes in, deposits a sum of money (doesn’t matter HOW much), and you complete the transaction by handing him a receipt and saying, “Here ya go.”

Right?

NO! This time, it’s “Thank you.”

Work with me here.

3) You’re a receptionist at a doctor’s office and you’re on the phone when a patient walks in. You ignore her until you’re finished with your call.

Right?

Of course not! Acknowledge her presence with a smile and a nod, complete your call as soon as possible, then apologize to the walk-in for making her wait.

Whatever happened to simple manners?

Who’s training employees these days?

Am I the only person bothered by stuff like this?

Admittedly, I’ve not worked in all of these service-type jobs, but common sense alone tells me it doesn’t cost anything to be nice to those you’re interacting with!

Fellow workers and the boss, to be sure, but especially paying customers, clients, patients, whatever.

C’mon, people, unemployment is pushing 10% nationwide (and in many states it’s 14%). Isn’t that a big enough pool that you don’t have to resort to hiring those who are crass, inept, complaining, and downright rude??

Stacks of stuff

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My Favorite Domer was home for Mid-Term Break (what other schools refer to as “Spring Break”) two weeks ago, and I noticed something I’d never noticed before.

He’s a stacker.

By “stacker,” I mean he stacks things — coins, papers, CDs, books, whatever — in little piles all over the rooms he frequents most.

Now obviously this tendency to stack didn’t start overnight. He’s been doing it for many of his nineteen years.

I just never realized it before we got new carpeting.

Whoa, new carpeting?

Yeah, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Back to the stacking.

As a child, MFD stacked Pokemon trading cards, Nintendo game books, Lego boxes, board games.

He even stacked an unseemly number of plush Puffkins in a colored rollaway bin.

He grew, and so did his stacks — certificates from whatever activity he was involved with, textbooks, video games, guitar books.

He’s a hoarder, too, but that’s another story.

You’d think I’d have noticed all those stacks, but I didn’t.

They appeared so gradually that I didn’t realize they were there. Kind of like the story about the frog who doesn’t notice his water is getting hot if you add it a little bit at a time, but he WILL notice if you just dump him into a bucket of hot water!

So, back to the carpet.

We finally decided to yank out the old carpet that was in the house when it was built and replace it with a new version.

It was way time to upgrade.

The old carpet had lasted 40 years — yeah, even the flooring guys had a tough time believing that! — but it had one major problem.

It was 100 percent cotton, meaning that, if you sat down on it, you stood up looking like you’d rolled in fur!

Everybody blamed my Sheltie; turns out, it wasn’t his fault at all.

Take that, all you blamers!

The new carpet, besides being a different color, is a new material. You can sit — heck, you can roll from one room to another! — without fear of fur.

The vacuum cleaner loves it, and so do we.

But something happens when you’re forced to clean your living spaces all at once. You notice things you never noticed before.

Things like stacks.

Tit for Tat?

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I’m feeling a bit “put-out” today.

I did a favor for someone — at considerable personal cost, I might add — yet the favor went unacknowledged.

Un-thanked, too.

Do we live in such impersonal, selfish times that we can’t expect to receive gratitude (at least) for favors rendered??

Here’s what happened.

More than a month ago, someone asked me to read something they’d written and make some comments.

A critique, if you will.

“Be harsh,” they said. “Hit me between the eyes. I can take it.”

Right.

Turns out, they didn’t mean it.

Oh, they wanted me to read all right. But they didn’t want to hear my honest comments.

No, they only wanted someone to stroke their ego.

I don’t roll like that.

You ask for my opinion and you get it.

Sure, I’ll try to soft-pedal so you don’t feel like you’ve been tossed into a berry patch, but don’t bother asking for my thoughts if you’re not prepared to hear them!

What is it about creative people who think they’re above criticism? I’ve heard from too many writers who refuse to join a writers’ group because the others there “only want people to praise what they’ve written and dissolve into tears at anything negative.”

How do writers expect to improve their craft by only hearing the good stuff?

And how many agents and publishers want to work with someone that delicate?

I realize I’m partly to blame for not charging for proofing in the first place.

Some people make a real living at proofreading/critiquing, and doing a “favor” like this took time from my own writing, web design, and even my personal life.

So I’m not real happy about the experience and reluctant to repeat it.

I can only conclude this person was born in a barn or something.

I mean, if someone does me a favor, I make it a point to say “Thank you.”

I might bristle at their criticism.

I might not take their suggestions.

But I acknowledge their efforts and affirm their right to have an opinion.

Shouldn’t I be entitled the same courtesy?