A Word From Lucy

Good Morning. Lucy, here. Although I try to stay positive and this smile is best I can do under circumstances, past two days have been horrible. Ever since humans got back from puppy-less vacation, my house has been disaster.

First of all, Monday morning, after they both left for work, I had just settled down for first morning snoozle when all of sudden man drove up driveway in big scary truck. Before I could hardly sound  proper bark alarm he started blasting  house with water from large snake hose. Over and over he blasted house with loud, terrible water...not just front of house, but all sides. Splashy sound nearly made me wet myself. Relentless splashing took rest of morning. So much for first and second snoozle.

As if that not enough horrible for rest of life, yesterday it get much worse. Two scary trucks pull up in front of house, waking me from snoozle. Four men climb from truck with large metal stairs which they lay against house, making horrible clanging sound. I think end of world is near. I bark loud and long time...all dog alert. Then men begin scrapping against windows, even windows in my room. Scary man even open window and scrape...and even try to talk to me. Again, I nearly wet myself!! This go on all live long day. Human forget to let me outside to tinkle when he come home for lunch. I hold it in...probably would have been too scared to make water even if he remember. Finally my pretty human come home for mid afternoon tea with friend. Men still outside scrape, scrape scraping. I about to bust. Pretty human ignore me for friend even though I whine like Poodle. I finally wet myself on floor. Great shame descend on me.

Then pretty human say she sorry for not taking me outside. But she no say sorry for horrible scary men who scrape windows and make no mention of water snake man from previous day...like he never even happen. I not forget...he happen!!

No telling what today bring. Maybe more of same. I sleep with one eye open. Lack of proper snoozles wearing me down...but I stay positive and offer you fake smile above...

We Can Quit Anytime We Want

Ever notice how the first day back at work after vacation is almost always problematic? I’ve taken a lot of vacations in my day, so I should know. But, more often than not, bad things happen when you get back to the grind. It’s as if life is trying to remind you that while vacations provide a break from labor, that break is brief and fleeting, so don’t even think about getting cocky. Take yesterday, for example...

We are about to have the exterior trim of our house painted, the first step of which is a power washing. The guy showed up on time and by the time I came home for lunch, he was gone. As I sat down to eat, I noticed that the Internet didn’t work. I restarted everything. Still, no internet. I didn’t have time to investigate so I headed back to work. Pam hurried home from work so she could be at the house when the guy came to install our new dishwasher. While he was doing so, she noticed the lack of internet, and then something else...Alexa had gone silent. Shortly thereafter, the television went dark. We had been hit by the unholy trinity of outages...no internet, no cable, and no Alexa!! In one frightening moment, our house had been cast into the technological black hole of death. To make matters far worse, we both received that dreaded text from Verizon...You are now out of data and will be placed in safe mode for the next seven days. Pam, fighting back a growing wave of panic, went to work on the Verizon app on her phone, troubleshooting the cause of the problem. I blamed everything on the power washer guy...This is what we get for cleaning the outside of the house! How vain to you have to be give your house a bath!! When Pam finally completed the diagnostics, she sighed heavily, fighting back the tears...The earliest we can have a technician come out is Wednesday!! 

Pam tried to distract herself with her shiny new appliance. It is quite an impressive dish washer, with lots of new gizmos and features that makes our old dishwasher look like a washtub. Then she read this line from the decidedly thin instruction book that came with the thing...To learn the proper way to load your new Dish-Killer 2000, please consult the owners manual...online at GEAppliances.com.

Great, she cried, I spend a fortune on a dish washer and they dont even give me an owner’s manual? I’ve got to go online?? And our internet doesn’t work and we’re out of data??!!

I slowly disengaged from the room, sensing that hostilities might soon break out, figuring that the best strategy at times like this might be benign neglect. After fifteen minutes or so, I circled back into the silent kitchen. Pam was peeling carrots over the sink....We are out of ginger, she said to no one in particular, And I can’t even ask Alexa to put it on my grocery list. How will I ever remember?

I hesitantly placed my hand on her back and gave her a gentle rub. Then it hit me...Wait...we don’t have television? How will we watch the game tonight?? Well, I could either find it on my ESPN app or I could just follow Andrew Freiden’s Twitter account...but wait...we have no internet!!!

It was a long and very quiet night. We were forced to have dinner around the kitchen table instead of on the sofa in the living room. Instead of watching a Frazier rerun, we were reduced to talking back and forth about our lousy days at work. If that Wednesday story that Verizon told us is true, there will be two more days of this Stone Age silence. The only unread book in the house was stored on my iPad...a digital copy of James Joyce’ A Portrait of the Artist as A Young Man. I am here to tell you, if I have to wade through the most overrated writer in the history of the English language over the next 48 hours, I might have to kill someone.

And, just in case you’re wondering...no, we are not addicted to technology. We can quit anytime we want to!!

Wait...Lending Institutions Charge Interest?!

I just watched a video clip from last night’s edition of 60 Minutes, where a young student said that the $76,000 loan she had taken out for her first year year of medical school would wind up costing $100,000 if she paid it back over a ten year period. To this, her interviewer, Leslie Stahl, professed profound astonishment...That’s unfathomable, she gasped.

No, Leslie...that’s called interest. Let me explain the concept to you...

When a consumer borrows money, the lending institution charges you interest. The longer you take to pay the loan back, the more interest you pay. For example, if I were to borrow $250,000 to buy a house, and I was charged 5% interest for a 30 year mortgage, I would end up paying the bank $483,000. If I was appalled at the amount of interest I would pay the bank, I could refinance to a 15 year note and perhaps a better interest rate, say...4.5%. In that case, I would only pay the bank $344,000. However, my monthly payment would be nearly $600 more, so I would have to consider whether or not I could afford it. In either case, there is absolutely nothing unfathomable about it. Borrowing money isn’t free.

Of course, the purpose of the 60 Minutes piece was to bang the drum for some sort of free college tuition scheme to be born by some combination of tax-payer subsidy and/or institutional endowment gift-back. For professions that the government deems to have social benefit, tuition would be free. That’s all well and good, and is a discussion worth having...but, for the love of God, Leslie...don’t get the freaking vapors over as simple a concept as loan interest!!

Later in the piece, we are introduced to another medical school student, who lamented his debt load by observing how much of a better doctor he would become if he didn’t have to pay for his education...For one thing, I wouldn’t have to work while I’m in school, so I could spend more time learning. This is very true. When I look back over the years I have spent paying my mortgage, it boggles the mind to imagine how much better a financial advisor I would have been if I didn’t have to pay for my house. And he’s also right about what a drag it is to have to work 30 hours a week while attending college full time.

There are a whole slew of things that would be far better if we didn’t have to pay for them, or better yet, if someone else was forced to pay for them. Maybe medical school is one of them. Maybe housing too, or basic transportation. And what about food? Nothing quite so life sustaining as food. Don’t even get me started on health care. Why, if I didn’t have to worry about paying for health insurance, hell I might be able to go back to school myself and finally get that Master’s Degree in Intersectional French Poetry I’ve always dreamed about.

Things are expensive. Really good and important things like medical school are ridiculously expensive. But, pardon me for not brimming with confidence when people like Leslie Stahl advocate for making stuff free, when they can’t even wrap their minds around the fact that interest is charged on loans!

What States Have the Most Stress?

I recently read an article about some study which was done to determine which states are the most stressful to live in and which were the most stress free. Based upon the headline alone, I immediately constructed my list. For me, the most stress free state was Maine, but to be fair...I don’t live there, especially in the winter! The study produced a top three list. What states would you imagine were on the list?

Most Stress Free States:

Utah

Minnesota

Massachusetts 

Most Stressed Out States:

Louisiana 

Mississippi 

Arkansas

The article went on to explain the methodology of the study, which used measurements of the following qualities to determine their results...work-life balance, low unemployment, less student loan debt, and access to Mother Nature.

Ok, right off the bat I’m suspicious of the study. First of all, every state in the union provides access to Mother Nature. It’s called, “going outside”. Secondly, this work-life balance thing is very much a modern construct which would have been unheard of for 99.9% of human history, along with the historically brand new concept of leisure time. Imagine lecturing Thomas Edison about work-life balance? Try explaining work-life balance to the men and women who settled the West. Besides, the proper mix of work and life I would think would vary widely among human beings. How did these researchers decide on what the proper balance was? Who died and placed them in charge of determining the correct amount of work and life for each person in each of the 50 states? Less student debt is one of the four most important contributors of determining the stress of an entire state? Wait...what?? What a bunch of maroons!!

I look at the results of this survey and one thing practically jumps off the page at me. There is one thing about each of these states that is a dead giveaway as to why they appeared on these lists....the presence/absence of oppressive heat and humidity.

I lived in Louisiana for three years. Whenever I am tempted to complain about the humidity in Short Pump, I think back to what it was like to spend my summers in New Orleans. Try to imagine what it might be like to walk through a Turkish bathhouse in August wearing  a water suit, a parka, and a wool ski mask. Mississippi and Arkansas are right next door. They all share that thick, damp air. You want some work-life balance? I’ve got your work-life balance right here...work for ten minutes, then spend the rest of the hour submerged in a bathtub full of ice.

Utah and Minnesota wouldn’t know humidity if it slapped them in the face. Oh, I’m sure that the fine people of St. Paul still remember exactly where they all were that day back in the 90’s when the thermometer reached 88 that bizarre day in July, when literally everybody wore short sleeve shirts!

The fact is that most stress in life is in direct proportion of how oppressively hot and humid it is outside. Why is it do you think that there is so much violence, hatred and discord in the Middle East? It’s not religion. It’s not the Arab-Israeli conflict. It’s the fact that those poor people spend practically every day of their miserable lives drenched in sweat! You try getting along with your neighbor when you can smell him from 100 yards away!

You want more evidence? When the Dunnevant Clan heads to the Outer Banks for our biennial vacation together, it is mostly a joyous celebration of familial fellowship, where the work-life balance runs along at about 90 to one. But, all of this family love would evaporate faster than a water puddle in Bangkok if the air conditioner went on the fritz. If the 20 of us had to co-exist in an eight bedroom beach house with no AC for more than 36 hours, it would be the Donner party all over again!

Yeah, I could have saved these researchers a lot of trouble.

Keep America American?

I have managed to stay almost 100% off the news grid for the past 6 days.

What have I missed?

I mean, I know that the stock markets have behaved beautifully while I’ve been away, and I am fully up to speed with all the happenings in Major League Baseball, but other than that, I am blissfully unaware.

Here’s something odd...while on yesterday’s run, I passed a couple of posters that had been plastered unto the back of some road signs out on Ocean Boulevard. I stopped and took a couple of pictures, but just now decided not to display them here. They were from an outfit called Patriot Front, and there was something familiar about one of the images I saw on one of them...an eagle with arrows in both claws with an odd emblem affixed in the middle of the eagle’s breast. When I got back to the condo I Googled it...sure enough, it was a dead ringer of an old blood and soil poster from Nazi Germany, circa 1935. Digging further I discovered that these Patriot Front dudes were the same guys responsible for the Charlottesville riot back last year. The posters were filled with relatively benign exhortations about Life and Liberty and the importance of free speech. Then, I saw the warning that America was being “conquered” by illegal aliens, and if we know what’s good for us we better Keep America American! Then, I noticed the smaller print which suggested that if we were to encounter any suspicious-looking illegals, we should report them to the authorities because...they are criminals.

Long time readers of this space know of my views on immigration. I’m basically all for anyone from anywhere who wants to come here and become an American, as long as they do so properly, respecting our laws that govern the process. So, no...I am not in favor of the free for all down south and all that it entails. But, neither am I in favor of rounding up 10 million immigrants here illegally and shipping them back to where they came from. They are not cattle, they are human beings. Anyway, the thing that I found amusing about these posters was where I found them...on a street which featured several million 6,000 square foot McMansions and one twenty story resort beach hotel. I thought to myself...What a great place to look for illegal immigrants...the big hotel where they spend 12 hours a day cleaning out our toilets and changing our sheets..and the huge beach houses where teams of them swoop in every Saturday morning to tidy up the place for the new family of vacationers fortunate enough to be able to afford to rent a beach house for 7 grand a week!!

Maybe a better plan would be to storm into the headquarters of the resort hotel and make a citizens arrest of the Human Resources guy who hired the undocumented laborers in the first place! Let’s frog march a dozen contractors down to the county jail for hiring teams of roofers and landscape laborers for a change. How about we stop demonizing a bunch of people doing hard work that most of us would never want to do, and start going after the real demons...the businesses who profit from their cheap labor and circumvent our immigration laws to line their own pockets?

Thank You.

Yesterday was the best weather day of the week, and since it was my birthday I decided to play a round of golf for the first time since September. I chose the nearest course...a place called Possum Trot...and was fortuitously paired with three older snowbirds from New Jersey. What my golf game lacked in entertainment value was more than made up for by my new friends, Rich, Irv, and Corky, ages 69, 78, and 79. Between the three of them, I learned all about life growing up in Atlantic City, the joys of retirement, the manifold shortcomings of their current spouses, and some of the most colorful profanity I’ve heard in years. As far as the my golf game? I started off beautifully, a mere one over par thru the first six holes, which prompted accusations of ringer status from my playing partners. But after that my game went to hell in a hand basket, and I was lucky to shoot 95, which involved seven three putt greens, and an 8 on a 135 yard par 3! 

When I got back to the condo I spent some time on the beach, which is to say...I fell asleep. I am a huge advocate of the afternoon nap, as many of you know. Its recuperative powers are legendary, but let’s not call it by that ridiculous name...the power nap. It is nothing of the sort. Taking an afternoon nap is not powerful. It is comforting, relaxing, and calming, serving to recalibrate the mind amidst the stresses of the day.

After my siesta, it was time to pick a restaurant for my birthday dinner. We settled on a place called the Thoroughbred Chop House, which turned out to be an excellent choice. Having expensive red meat for the first time in months was wonderful! The kind waitress brought me a free slice of cheesecake...

However, this gratuity was not enough, since as soon as we got back to the condo, I did this...

After sufficiently gorging myself, it was time for presents! I got lots of very cool stuff. 

Then, each of my kids FaceTimed me to wish me a happy birthday and to secure their places in the will. After these two delightful conversations, I looked at my phone and noticed all of the Facebook messages, texts and emails from so many of you. It was overwhelming. It meant the world to me...everyone of them.

Now, the morning has come and the party is over. I am preparing to go down to the beach and put in a 4 mile run, hoping to reverse some of the damage done to my newly slim physique by yesterday’s extravagance.

But, yesterday was just about as perfect as it could possible be. Much of that is because of the kindness and affection of the wealth of great friends I have accumulated over the past 61 years.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Top Ten Reasons Why Getting Older is Cool

Yup...it’s my birthday. 61 years. Looking back over the nearly nine years of this blog, whenever commenting on birthdays I have been remarkably consistent. Generally, I have chronicled the latest physical decline, bemoaning my decreased flexibility, or the most recent loss of vigor. One year I actually went to the trouble of providing my ballooning times in the 5K. But, not this year. This year, I have decided to list the things that I have gotten better at with age, the benefits of aging, as it were...

1. I cannot remember the last time I had a zit.

2. I no longer sit up at night wondering how I’m ever going to pay off my debts. There’s very little of it left at this point.

3. I am free of that most American plague of keeping up with the Jones’ ...mostly because I’ve finally realized that that Jones family is in debt up to their freaking eyeballs, and Mrs. Jones is getting ready to file for divorce.

4. I no longer feel the need to impress anyone. I’ve never really cared an awful lot about what others think of me anyway, but now I really don’t care. It’s quite freeing.

5. Because of number 2 above, I am much more able to act on generosity impulses.

6. Pretty soon Pam will finally have a legit excuse for my sometimes intemperate language...As he’s gotten older, I never know what’s going to fly out of his mouth!

7. With each passing year I get to spend longer and longer periods of time in Maine.

8. The older I get the less afraid I have become.

9. That old line...There’s nothing new under the sun...has finally turned into something that feels more like reassurance than it does sadness. Finally understanding that what is new actually isn’t so new doesn’t feel limiting any more. It is comforting now. I dont have to be thrown for a loop by bad news anymore. Been there, done that.

10. When I was getting ready to marry Pam I used to sit up at night worrying about what would happen if I woke up one day and didn’t love her anymore. What an idiot I was. What a maroon!