My boss was upset with herself today. She went out to lunch yesterday and "was bad," in her words. Her plan then was not to eat the rest of the day, but she said that she would up getting, and eating too much, pizza.
I was thinking, after she told me this story, that it's a definite sign of aging when you wake up regretting, both physically and emotionally, the choices you made the night before --- and they're food choices.
Lots of us have had those "What was I thinking?" mornings after. In my younger days, when I had them, they would come out of a bottle. It's definitely a sign that those younger days are gone when the source of those mornings was delivered in a cardboard box with a domino on it.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Fear of Flying
It was announced today that Tony Kornheiser is leaving the "Monday Night Football" broadcast, due to what Tony called a fear of flying.
Believe me, I can understand. I'd be fine if I never get in an airplane again. I'd much rather drive or take the train. I might have to travel for work in a couple months, about 800 miles away, and if I do go I'm going to inquire if I can drive rather than fly.
I don't like being in a plane. I don't like the take off, and I don't like the landing. You must understand, though, it's not a fear of flying --- it's a fear of crashing. The flying part is fine. It's what happens when the flying doesn't happen the way it should that I have a problem with.
The way I figure it, if I'm in a car moving about 70 mph on the ground, or in a train moving at a similar speed about 10 feet or so off the ground, and something happens, I have a chance. If I'm in a plane that has an issue a few thousand feet off the ground at hundreds of miles an hour... forget it. Game over, man.
I know the statistics. Flying is the safest method of travel, based on fatalities per hundred million miles travelled. My reply consists of two words: "what" and "so" (not necessarily in that order). It doesn't matter how long the odds are, how big the X in that 1-in-X ratio is... eventually the 1 is going to happen. (This is the same reason my wife and I spend a small amount on lottery tickets every week - we know how unlikely it is. But, eventually, somebody wins.) I'd rather not be involved when that 1 comes around, is all.
Believe me, I can understand. I'd be fine if I never get in an airplane again. I'd much rather drive or take the train. I might have to travel for work in a couple months, about 800 miles away, and if I do go I'm going to inquire if I can drive rather than fly.
I don't like being in a plane. I don't like the take off, and I don't like the landing. You must understand, though, it's not a fear of flying --- it's a fear of crashing. The flying part is fine. It's what happens when the flying doesn't happen the way it should that I have a problem with.
The way I figure it, if I'm in a car moving about 70 mph on the ground, or in a train moving at a similar speed about 10 feet or so off the ground, and something happens, I have a chance. If I'm in a plane that has an issue a few thousand feet off the ground at hundreds of miles an hour... forget it. Game over, man.
I know the statistics. Flying is the safest method of travel, based on fatalities per hundred million miles travelled. My reply consists of two words: "what" and "so" (not necessarily in that order). It doesn't matter how long the odds are, how big the X in that 1-in-X ratio is... eventually the 1 is going to happen. (This is the same reason my wife and I spend a small amount on lottery tickets every week - we know how unlikely it is. But, eventually, somebody wins.) I'd rather not be involved when that 1 comes around, is all.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Of carts and horses
It would be one thing if this had been an isolated incident. This kind of thing happens all the time, though.
At work, there's a database that my coworkers and I need to search from time to time. We access it by running a query in a program called Access. The business' IT team doesn't support Access anymore, so they're phasing out all of the Access-based tools and lookups. Makes sense so far. There are a lot of IT initiatives happening around my team right now, and among them is a program to convert all of our Access lookups to another program. Thus, yesterday afternoon they got rid of the query tool we used to search this particular database. Thing is, there's a slight problem with the replacement..... it doesn't exist. Or, at least, it hasn't been shared with us yet. Since about noon yesterday, we've had no Access, which means we've had no access. We need this database, pretty much every day (not all of us every day, but at least one of us). We can't do the pieces of our work that require it otherwise. Day and a half.
When we found out our tool was removed and not replaced, one of my coworkers said, "It's like putting the cart before the horse."
I replied, "It's more like putting the cart... where the hell's the horse?!? We have no horse. You see a horse, you let me know."
It's been a frustration of mine for as long as I've worked for this company (just over 5 years). Every single, solitary time they do an IT initiative like this, it's the same. The details change, of course, but the theme is the same. They're done at a management level. They're budgeted, designed, built, tested and implemented without nearly enough (sometimes not any at all) input from, or consideration of the actual needs of, the end users --- the day-to-day, hands-on-a-keyboard movements and tasks of those of us who have to operate these tools. Management wants X (in this case, no Access, and a new program), and IT delivers what is asked of them (the Access tool is gone, and it will most certainly be replaced by the new program). I'm sure from management's and IT's perspective's, this has all been wildly successful. Maybe I shouldn't put IT on an equal footing in that sentence. They're given a project to complete, in a particular manner, and they do it. The problem is with how they're told to do it. So I guess I should edit that to say I'm sure management will consider this wildly successful.
I'll have plenty of time to congratulate them, since I won't be losing all that time I previously spent doing my damn job.
At work, there's a database that my coworkers and I need to search from time to time. We access it by running a query in a program called Access. The business' IT team doesn't support Access anymore, so they're phasing out all of the Access-based tools and lookups. Makes sense so far. There are a lot of IT initiatives happening around my team right now, and among them is a program to convert all of our Access lookups to another program. Thus, yesterday afternoon they got rid of the query tool we used to search this particular database. Thing is, there's a slight problem with the replacement..... it doesn't exist. Or, at least, it hasn't been shared with us yet. Since about noon yesterday, we've had no Access, which means we've had no access. We need this database, pretty much every day (not all of us every day, but at least one of us). We can't do the pieces of our work that require it otherwise. Day and a half.
When we found out our tool was removed and not replaced, one of my coworkers said, "It's like putting the cart before the horse."
I replied, "It's more like putting the cart... where the hell's the horse?!? We have no horse. You see a horse, you let me know."
It's been a frustration of mine for as long as I've worked for this company (just over 5 years). Every single, solitary time they do an IT initiative like this, it's the same. The details change, of course, but the theme is the same. They're done at a management level. They're budgeted, designed, built, tested and implemented without nearly enough (sometimes not any at all) input from, or consideration of the actual needs of, the end users --- the day-to-day, hands-on-a-keyboard movements and tasks of those of us who have to operate these tools. Management wants X (in this case, no Access, and a new program), and IT delivers what is asked of them (the Access tool is gone, and it will most certainly be replaced by the new program). I'm sure from management's and IT's perspective's, this has all been wildly successful. Maybe I shouldn't put IT on an equal footing in that sentence. They're given a project to complete, in a particular manner, and they do it. The problem is with how they're told to do it. So I guess I should edit that to say I'm sure management will consider this wildly successful.
I'll have plenty of time to congratulate them, since I won't be losing all that time I previously spent doing my damn job.
Monday, April 20, 2009
You may say I'm a dreamer
In December 2005, which was the 25th anniversary of John Lennon's murder, Newsweek ran an article about the occasion. In it, musician Dave Matthews was quoted as saying, "Even if he'd written only 'Imagine,' he would have been the greatest songwriter of all time." That's a bit hyperbolic, but it shows the admiration for the song that Dave has, which I don't think is at all out of place. I don't tend to use the word "art" to describe much of what is done by rock musicians, but this song is an exception. It is (and I contend that the following statement is in no way hyperbolic) an absolutley brilliantly constructed piece of artistry.
John Lennon wrote "Revolution" in 1968. There were, of course, a lot of protest songs, anti-war songs, anti-Establishment songs being written at the time. Various people had publicly called on The Beatles, and other popular groups, to lend their voice to the struggles by speaking out. John certainly championed the basic beliefs of these crowds, but seems to have disagreed with some of their tactics and actions. And, anyone familiar with John would probably guess that he wasn't about to let anyone tell him what to say and how to say it. In response, he came out with "Revolution," with lyrics such as, "but when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out... but if you want money for people with minds that hate, all I can tell you is brother you have to wait... but if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain't gonna make it with anyone anyhow." This song isn't exactly related to "Imagine," but I think John did make it clear that when he was going to use his music to speak out, he was going to do so in his own way, and not simply join the crowd that was seeking changes.
The next year, he wrote "Give Peace a Chance." Not "Give Us Peace." Not "Live Peace." Not "End the War." Not "Stop All Wars." Give peace a chance. Again, John was going to use his music on his own terms. He wasn't saying, "This is how things should be," though he certainly thought so. He was just saying, "Give it a try." Look at it in a way you've never looked at it before, and see what you think. Certainly this was a departure from a lot of the anti-war songs of the era, which directly advocated the end of the war.
Two years after this, John hit what Dave Matthews and I consider his zenith with "Imagine." He had bigger things on his mind than just the war in Viet Nam, or the student protests and such that he'd been reacting to back in the old days of 1968. John had a much broader, much grander vision of a united, peaceful world. And again... and once again brilliantly... John doesn't tell us what he thinks we should do. He doesn't tell us this is how we should live. (This time, I'm not sure that even John thought that all of this was how we should live. He certainly seemed to enjoy his possessions, for one thing.) All he does is ask us to imagine it. What would it be like if all the things that we use to separate ourselves from each other didn't exist? What would it be like if the things that we used to justify our prejudices and hatreds didn't exist? What would it be like if the things that we used to categorize, judge, label, elevate or denigrate everyone else didn't exist? If all we had was ourselves, each other, and today.
Just as they never really will give peace a chance, I don't think most people ever really will imagine, not even necessarily John's vision in his song, but any way in which the world or their lives could be significantly different than they are today. Which will, of course, keep them from making any real change. The first step is to decide what change you want to make, and you can't do that until you consider the possibilities. If you start by picturing the farthest extent of where you can go, you can then work back towards today to come to where you actually want to go. Until you know where that is, you can't get there, right? I think that by setting the bar where he did, by asking us to consider an idealized, Utopian picture, John was reminding us of the first step to making changes in our lives. Not by telling anyone what they should do, but by inviting everyone to consider what we could do. Imagine.
John Lennon wrote "Revolution" in 1968. There were, of course, a lot of protest songs, anti-war songs, anti-Establishment songs being written at the time. Various people had publicly called on The Beatles, and other popular groups, to lend their voice to the struggles by speaking out. John certainly championed the basic beliefs of these crowds, but seems to have disagreed with some of their tactics and actions. And, anyone familiar with John would probably guess that he wasn't about to let anyone tell him what to say and how to say it. In response, he came out with "Revolution," with lyrics such as, "but when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out... but if you want money for people with minds that hate, all I can tell you is brother you have to wait... but if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain't gonna make it with anyone anyhow." This song isn't exactly related to "Imagine," but I think John did make it clear that when he was going to use his music to speak out, he was going to do so in his own way, and not simply join the crowd that was seeking changes.
The next year, he wrote "Give Peace a Chance." Not "Give Us Peace." Not "Live Peace." Not "End the War." Not "Stop All Wars." Give peace a chance. Again, John was going to use his music on his own terms. He wasn't saying, "This is how things should be," though he certainly thought so. He was just saying, "Give it a try." Look at it in a way you've never looked at it before, and see what you think. Certainly this was a departure from a lot of the anti-war songs of the era, which directly advocated the end of the war.
Two years after this, John hit what Dave Matthews and I consider his zenith with "Imagine." He had bigger things on his mind than just the war in Viet Nam, or the student protests and such that he'd been reacting to back in the old days of 1968. John had a much broader, much grander vision of a united, peaceful world. And again... and once again brilliantly... John doesn't tell us what he thinks we should do. He doesn't tell us this is how we should live. (This time, I'm not sure that even John thought that all of this was how we should live. He certainly seemed to enjoy his possessions, for one thing.) All he does is ask us to imagine it. What would it be like if all the things that we use to separate ourselves from each other didn't exist? What would it be like if the things that we used to justify our prejudices and hatreds didn't exist? What would it be like if the things that we used to categorize, judge, label, elevate or denigrate everyone else didn't exist? If all we had was ourselves, each other, and today.
Just as they never really will give peace a chance, I don't think most people ever really will imagine, not even necessarily John's vision in his song, but any way in which the world or their lives could be significantly different than they are today. Which will, of course, keep them from making any real change. The first step is to decide what change you want to make, and you can't do that until you consider the possibilities. If you start by picturing the farthest extent of where you can go, you can then work back towards today to come to where you actually want to go. Until you know where that is, you can't get there, right? I think that by setting the bar where he did, by asking us to consider an idealized, Utopian picture, John was reminding us of the first step to making changes in our lives. Not by telling anyone what they should do, but by inviting everyone to consider what we could do. Imagine.
Monday, April 13, 2009
R.I.P., Harry
There is a fair chance that you don't know the name Harry Kalas. Even if that's the case, there is still a fair chance that you know his voice. You may have heard it in commercials, such as ones for Chunky soup or his beloved Coors Light, or as the voice of NFL Films, or as the voiceover for the highlights on HBO's "Inside the NFL," or as the voice of Animal Planet's annual "Puppy Bowl." For me, Harry Kalas always was, and always will be, the voice of Philadelphia Phillies baseball.
I grew up in the Philadelphia area, and am a lifelong Phillies fan. Harry did play-by-play for Phillies games on TV and radio for literally my whole life - he started as Phillies' broadcaster in 1971; I was born the next year. From youth, through adolescence, to adulthood, Harry's smooth, resonant voice has been a constant presence. Even since I moved to Minnesota, I've been able to watch some Phillies broadcasts on our cable package, and still have Harry around some.
Usually, when sports fans talk about our team, we talk about the players. But really, the broadcasters are a closer, if not bigger, part of the game for us. Players and coaches come and go, but Harry was always there.
There's a clear separation between the fans and players, in every sense. They're the spectacle, the ones on stage. I can't do what they do. And I certainly don't live in their multi-million dollar, fame-and-celebrity world. It's different, somehow, with the broadcasters - at least with the good ones. It's like they're watching the game with you. The broadcast is like a conversation. Though they very rarely answer my questions ;-). The players are very much on TV. But Harry was in my living room, my kitchen, my car. Just talking baseball with me.
Harry Kalas died today. It seems fitting that he died doing what he loved so much, getting ready to call a Phillies game. It was a couple hours before game time. He had made his regular visit to the Phillies' locker room, and was in the broadcast booth when he collapsed. He died at a local hospital about an hour later.
Most of my memories of Phillies baseball are as much about Harry's descriptions of what happened as they are about what actually happened. Not just the big moments, but thousands of little ones. A home run just wasn't the same without his trademark, "Outta here... home run!" call. A strikeout wasn't the same without his, "Swing and a miss. Struck... him... out!" As I said to the co-worker who first told me that Harry had died, "Harry WAS the soundtrack of Philles baseball for me."
It's hard to imagine that the next walk-off home run, the next no-hitter, the next World Series championship (if you're a Philly fan like me, you can't read - or type, trust me - that phrase without inserting a mental "if") will happen without the backdrop of Harry's words and voice. It was hard for me just to get my mind around the fact that today's game would have to go on without him.
When the Phillies won the World Series (and the series before it) last year, as excited as I was watching the celebrations, I couldn't wait till the national TV broadcasts played the clip of Harry's call of the last out on Philadelphia radio. (If I still lived around Philly, I'd have had the sound on my TV off, and my radio on.) I was excited that they won because, as a fan, I wanted them to win. Duh. But I was also glad that Harry got to call the World Series win. The only other time the Philles won the World Series was in 1980. Baseball's broadcast rules then didn't allow for any local broadcasts, so Harry didn't get to call that one. He very obviously loved the game and the team every bit as much as we fans do, and I know it was a proud moment for him to be part of the championship last year. I was happy for him to have the opportunity, and that the team came through for him. Because, I thought, he won't be around forever. Little did I know...
I'll miss Harry, talking to me about my Phillies. I never met him, but it feels like I've lost a friend - someone who was always around, and someone with whom I had at least one thing... one thing we both enjoyed very much... in common. It'll never be quite the same again without him.
I grew up in the Philadelphia area, and am a lifelong Phillies fan. Harry did play-by-play for Phillies games on TV and radio for literally my whole life - he started as Phillies' broadcaster in 1971; I was born the next year. From youth, through adolescence, to adulthood, Harry's smooth, resonant voice has been a constant presence. Even since I moved to Minnesota, I've been able to watch some Phillies broadcasts on our cable package, and still have Harry around some.
Usually, when sports fans talk about our team, we talk about the players. But really, the broadcasters are a closer, if not bigger, part of the game for us. Players and coaches come and go, but Harry was always there.
There's a clear separation between the fans and players, in every sense. They're the spectacle, the ones on stage. I can't do what they do. And I certainly don't live in their multi-million dollar, fame-and-celebrity world. It's different, somehow, with the broadcasters - at least with the good ones. It's like they're watching the game with you. The broadcast is like a conversation. Though they very rarely answer my questions ;-). The players are very much on TV. But Harry was in my living room, my kitchen, my car. Just talking baseball with me.
Harry Kalas died today. It seems fitting that he died doing what he loved so much, getting ready to call a Phillies game. It was a couple hours before game time. He had made his regular visit to the Phillies' locker room, and was in the broadcast booth when he collapsed. He died at a local hospital about an hour later.
Most of my memories of Phillies baseball are as much about Harry's descriptions of what happened as they are about what actually happened. Not just the big moments, but thousands of little ones. A home run just wasn't the same without his trademark, "Outta here... home run!" call. A strikeout wasn't the same without his, "Swing and a miss. Struck... him... out!" As I said to the co-worker who first told me that Harry had died, "Harry WAS the soundtrack of Philles baseball for me."
It's hard to imagine that the next walk-off home run, the next no-hitter, the next World Series championship (if you're a Philly fan like me, you can't read - or type, trust me - that phrase without inserting a mental "if") will happen without the backdrop of Harry's words and voice. It was hard for me just to get my mind around the fact that today's game would have to go on without him.
When the Phillies won the World Series (and the series before it) last year, as excited as I was watching the celebrations, I couldn't wait till the national TV broadcasts played the clip of Harry's call of the last out on Philadelphia radio. (If I still lived around Philly, I'd have had the sound on my TV off, and my radio on.) I was excited that they won because, as a fan, I wanted them to win. Duh. But I was also glad that Harry got to call the World Series win. The only other time the Philles won the World Series was in 1980. Baseball's broadcast rules then didn't allow for any local broadcasts, so Harry didn't get to call that one. He very obviously loved the game and the team every bit as much as we fans do, and I know it was a proud moment for him to be part of the championship last year. I was happy for him to have the opportunity, and that the team came through for him. Because, I thought, he won't be around forever. Little did I know...
I'll miss Harry, talking to me about my Phillies. I never met him, but it feels like I've lost a friend - someone who was always around, and someone with whom I had at least one thing... one thing we both enjoyed very much... in common. It'll never be quite the same again without him.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
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Happy April Fools Day!!! :-P
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...you look.
Happy April Fools Day!!! :-P
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Punitive damages
Here's an idea that I've had in the past, that I was thinking about today while reading a news story.
I've got no problem with compensatory damages. I don't think any reasonable person could. And I understand the idea of punitive damages - that the transgressor should be punished for egregious wrongdoings. Since we're talking about cases tried in civil, rather than criminal, court, prison is not a possibility. The way a civil court punishes is monetarily.
Let's say Person A is wronged by B, Inc., but is then made whole by compensatory damages, potentially including pain and suffering. The judge and/or jury further decide that B, Inc. must, beyond indemnifying Person A, be punished for its wrongs. Punitive damages are then awarded... but why should they go to the plaintiff? According to Douglas Laycock in Modern American Remedies, studies have shown that punitive damages are awarded in 2 percent of civil trials? Why should those 2 percent of plaintiffs get a lottery-like payday which is not offered to 98% of others?
The purpose of the civil court system is to indemnify, to make whole, those who have suffered due to another person's or company's violation of the law. Monetary losses are restored. Physical suffering is compensated (there are tables that have been created which show a decided-upon value of, for example, the loss of a finger, a hand, an arm to the elbow, etc.). Pain and suffering is compensated. This is all as it should be. However, as I see it, once the wronged person has been made whole, they should not be made "more whole" by reaping the benefits of someone's decision to punish the defendant.
I don't think we should do away with punitive damages. I think they should become fines. They should be paid to the government. Kind of like if I were speeding and hit your car. I... well, my insurance... would pay to fix your car. But my fine for speeding wouldn't go to you. It's a fine. It goes to the state. The same should happen with punitive damages in civil trials, as I see it.
I've got no problem with compensatory damages. I don't think any reasonable person could. And I understand the idea of punitive damages - that the transgressor should be punished for egregious wrongdoings. Since we're talking about cases tried in civil, rather than criminal, court, prison is not a possibility. The way a civil court punishes is monetarily.
Let's say Person A is wronged by B, Inc., but is then made whole by compensatory damages, potentially including pain and suffering. The judge and/or jury further decide that B, Inc. must, beyond indemnifying Person A, be punished for its wrongs. Punitive damages are then awarded... but why should they go to the plaintiff? According to Douglas Laycock in Modern American Remedies, studies have shown that punitive damages are awarded in 2 percent of civil trials? Why should those 2 percent of plaintiffs get a lottery-like payday which is not offered to 98% of others?
The purpose of the civil court system is to indemnify, to make whole, those who have suffered due to another person's or company's violation of the law. Monetary losses are restored. Physical suffering is compensated (there are tables that have been created which show a decided-upon value of, for example, the loss of a finger, a hand, an arm to the elbow, etc.). Pain and suffering is compensated. This is all as it should be. However, as I see it, once the wronged person has been made whole, they should not be made "more whole" by reaping the benefits of someone's decision to punish the defendant.
I don't think we should do away with punitive damages. I think they should become fines. They should be paid to the government. Kind of like if I were speeding and hit your car. I... well, my insurance... would pay to fix your car. But my fine for speeding wouldn't go to you. It's a fine. It goes to the state. The same should happen with punitive damages in civil trials, as I see it.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Idiosyncrasies (tagged)
I recently did a post with a list of random facts about me. I've gotten the idea since then to do a list of my idiosyncrasies. I'm thinking 10, rather than the 16 from the last list. As before, you're now tagged - if you blog, you should do a similar post on your blog, and feel free to leave a link to it in the comments here.
To the list, then:
1. I keep my money (bills, not coins) in a specific order. I arrange them with the biggest bills on top, so that when they're folded and put in my front pocket (I don't keep my cash in my wallet), the smallest bill is showing. Also, I make sure all the bills are facing the same way - face up, and right side up. I believe that hearkens back to my days of running a cash register at McDonald's, where we were required to keep the bills in the same orientation like that.
2. When I have my CD's arranged - I really haven't had them arranged since my wife and I moved into our house almost 3 years ago - I arrange them alphabetically by artist, then chronologically for each artist. I recall debating with myself whether my John Cougar Mellencamp & John Mellencamp CD's should be filed together under C, together under M, or separately. I went with M, since John never wanted the stage name Cougar.
3. There are seven applications that I have running at all times on my computer at work. I open them in order, so their icons are always in the same place on the task bar. If I have to close something early enough in the work day, I'll reboot so I can open them all fresh. I'm not going to go 6 hours with my Outlook way over on the right.
4. The station pre-set buttons on my car radio are programmed in order, to a certain extent. This is one I've changed a bit over time. There are 6 buttons, but I can toggle through 3 groups of pre-sets, so there are 18 stations I have programmed. Every car I've had before that had a toggling option, each group would be limited to either FM or AM stations. It was always 2 groups of FM and one of AM. Before, I always had my FM's entirely in order - e.g., with the stations I now have programmed, the first group would have been 92.5FM through 100.9FM, the second would have started with 102.9FM, and so on. The last group would have my AM stations in order. My current car's radio doesn't limit each group to AM or FM; they can be intermixed. Since I was intermixing the bands, I also decided to make a further change and arrange the groups so that the 6 stations I listen to most are in the first group, and so on through the second and third. But, within each group, they are still arranged in order, with FM's first (e.g., the first group is 92.5FM, 94.9FM, 104.1FM, 105.7FM, 107.9FM and 950AM - the second group starts at 93.7FM [which would have been {and was} in the first group previously] and goes in order through 4 FM's, finishing with 690 & 1130AM).
5. When I eat M&M's, Smarties or some other candy where you have several pieces of different colors, for each handful I will group them by color and eat all of one color before moving to the next, saving my "favorite" colors for last. This makes a little bit of sense (to me) with Smarties, since the different colors indicate different flavors. I want to save the best for last. There's really no way to justify doing this with, say, M&M's. But I still do it. With no real set pattern. Blue will often, but not always, be last. Brown and tan are likely to go first. But nothing is carved in stone. With Smarties, yellow are second-to-last, white are last, but the rest is just however I feel like going at the time. If there's no particular reason to choose one color before another, I'll usually go with the one with fewer candies first. No real reason, just what I do.
6. Similarly, when I'm eating a handful of chips, I'll often separate the broken ones from the whole ones, and eat the broken ones first. Again, it's a "saving the best for last" thing, I think, yet I could not tell you why whole ones are better than broken ones. If they're flavored chips, and there's one that seems to have more of the flavoring on it than others, that one will likely be kept for last.
7. (Hmmm, lots of these are around food) This one I do not do anymore, but through my childhood and adolescence, when eating a meal, I would always eat all of one item before starting the next, and continue to do that with whatever starch, vegetable(s) and meat I had. The meat was always kept for last. By now, you ought to be able to guess why.
8. The second-t0-last thing I do before I go to bed is to go to the bathroom to floss, brush, whatever. Just before that, third-to-last, I check to make sure that all of the stove's burners are off. After the bathroom, the very last thing I do before I go to bed... I check to make sure that all of the stove's burners are off. Not sure who I think is going to turn one on while I'm in there, but there you have it. I have a real paranoia about that, tho I've never gone to bed and left a burner on. I did a similar thing when I smoked. I couldn't leave the house without checking twice that I hadn't left a cigarette burning in an ashtray. Once day, many moons ago, when I got to work I called home and asked my mother to check the ashtray to see if I'd left a cigarette burning. I hadn't. I never did. Always checked.
9. (Hmmmmm, lots of these are around food) When I eat a sandwich, the cheese has to be underneath the meat. I'll make sure that I pick up the sandwich and put it in my mouth so that the cheese is on bottom (save for a piece of bread, of course). On the rare occasion that I get a cheeseburger from the cafeteria at work, it's presented with the cheese on top. We add the condiments ourselves, and my first step in the process is always to flip my burger over so the cheese is on bottom.
10. Like #7, this is another one I don't do so much anymore. This may have led directly to item #7, in fact. I used to be really hard-core about this. It used to really bother me if different foods on my plate touched each other. Unless they were supposed to - you know, you're eating a stew, a hash, Chinese food, you're going to have different foods all over each other, which is no problem - or in various situation where I would arbitrarily suspend the rule - I had no problem, for example, with mixing corn and mashed potatoes. But for the most part, "no touching" was the rule. For the most part, no problem. But if there was a sauce or a gravy involved, well, that could pose a problem. It would require some attention. Beets were an issue. Hard to control beet juice, and with that bright red color, there wasn't any pretending that it hadn't touched something else on the plate. You may have noticed the qualifier in the first sentence - I don't do this one "so much" anymore. To this day, if I'm having beets, they'll be in a separate bowl. I just can not take beet juice on my other food.
I'm really not as crazy as this list makes me seem. I think.
Remember, you're tagged.
To the list, then:
1. I keep my money (bills, not coins) in a specific order. I arrange them with the biggest bills on top, so that when they're folded and put in my front pocket (I don't keep my cash in my wallet), the smallest bill is showing. Also, I make sure all the bills are facing the same way - face up, and right side up. I believe that hearkens back to my days of running a cash register at McDonald's, where we were required to keep the bills in the same orientation like that.
2. When I have my CD's arranged - I really haven't had them arranged since my wife and I moved into our house almost 3 years ago - I arrange them alphabetically by artist, then chronologically for each artist. I recall debating with myself whether my John Cougar Mellencamp & John Mellencamp CD's should be filed together under C, together under M, or separately. I went with M, since John never wanted the stage name Cougar.
3. There are seven applications that I have running at all times on my computer at work. I open them in order, so their icons are always in the same place on the task bar. If I have to close something early enough in the work day, I'll reboot so I can open them all fresh. I'm not going to go 6 hours with my Outlook way over on the right.
4. The station pre-set buttons on my car radio are programmed in order, to a certain extent. This is one I've changed a bit over time. There are 6 buttons, but I can toggle through 3 groups of pre-sets, so there are 18 stations I have programmed. Every car I've had before that had a toggling option, each group would be limited to either FM or AM stations. It was always 2 groups of FM and one of AM. Before, I always had my FM's entirely in order - e.g., with the stations I now have programmed, the first group would have been 92.5FM through 100.9FM, the second would have started with 102.9FM, and so on. The last group would have my AM stations in order. My current car's radio doesn't limit each group to AM or FM; they can be intermixed. Since I was intermixing the bands, I also decided to make a further change and arrange the groups so that the 6 stations I listen to most are in the first group, and so on through the second and third. But, within each group, they are still arranged in order, with FM's first (e.g., the first group is 92.5FM, 94.9FM, 104.1FM, 105.7FM, 107.9FM and 950AM - the second group starts at 93.7FM [which would have been {and was} in the first group previously] and goes in order through 4 FM's, finishing with 690 & 1130AM).
5. When I eat M&M's, Smarties or some other candy where you have several pieces of different colors, for each handful I will group them by color and eat all of one color before moving to the next, saving my "favorite" colors for last. This makes a little bit of sense (to me) with Smarties, since the different colors indicate different flavors. I want to save the best for last. There's really no way to justify doing this with, say, M&M's. But I still do it. With no real set pattern. Blue will often, but not always, be last. Brown and tan are likely to go first. But nothing is carved in stone. With Smarties, yellow are second-to-last, white are last, but the rest is just however I feel like going at the time. If there's no particular reason to choose one color before another, I'll usually go with the one with fewer candies first. No real reason, just what I do.
6. Similarly, when I'm eating a handful of chips, I'll often separate the broken ones from the whole ones, and eat the broken ones first. Again, it's a "saving the best for last" thing, I think, yet I could not tell you why whole ones are better than broken ones. If they're flavored chips, and there's one that seems to have more of the flavoring on it than others, that one will likely be kept for last.
7. (Hmmm, lots of these are around food) This one I do not do anymore, but through my childhood and adolescence, when eating a meal, I would always eat all of one item before starting the next, and continue to do that with whatever starch, vegetable(s) and meat I had. The meat was always kept for last. By now, you ought to be able to guess why.
8. The second-t0-last thing I do before I go to bed is to go to the bathroom to floss, brush, whatever. Just before that, third-to-last, I check to make sure that all of the stove's burners are off. After the bathroom, the very last thing I do before I go to bed... I check to make sure that all of the stove's burners are off. Not sure who I think is going to turn one on while I'm in there, but there you have it. I have a real paranoia about that, tho I've never gone to bed and left a burner on. I did a similar thing when I smoked. I couldn't leave the house without checking twice that I hadn't left a cigarette burning in an ashtray. Once day, many moons ago, when I got to work I called home and asked my mother to check the ashtray to see if I'd left a cigarette burning. I hadn't. I never did. Always checked.
9. (Hmmmmm, lots of these are around food) When I eat a sandwich, the cheese has to be underneath the meat. I'll make sure that I pick up the sandwich and put it in my mouth so that the cheese is on bottom (save for a piece of bread, of course). On the rare occasion that I get a cheeseburger from the cafeteria at work, it's presented with the cheese on top. We add the condiments ourselves, and my first step in the process is always to flip my burger over so the cheese is on bottom.
10. Like #7, this is another one I don't do so much anymore. This may have led directly to item #7, in fact. I used to be really hard-core about this. It used to really bother me if different foods on my plate touched each other. Unless they were supposed to - you know, you're eating a stew, a hash, Chinese food, you're going to have different foods all over each other, which is no problem - or in various situation where I would arbitrarily suspend the rule - I had no problem, for example, with mixing corn and mashed potatoes. But for the most part, "no touching" was the rule. For the most part, no problem. But if there was a sauce or a gravy involved, well, that could pose a problem. It would require some attention. Beets were an issue. Hard to control beet juice, and with that bright red color, there wasn't any pretending that it hadn't touched something else on the plate. You may have noticed the qualifier in the first sentence - I don't do this one "so much" anymore. To this day, if I'm having beets, they'll be in a separate bowl. I just can not take beet juice on my other food.
I'm really not as crazy as this list makes me seem. I think.
Remember, you're tagged.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Turn me on, dead man
On The Beatles' eponymous 1968 album (the one commonly called "The White Album") there is a track called "Revolution 9." It's not a song by any traditional description; perhaps "sound collage" comes closest to accurately describing it. At various points throughout, you hear British man repeatedly saying, "Number nine." If you play the "number nine" piece backwards, you might think it sounds like, "Turn me on, dead man." It's been kind of hard to play a sound recording backwards at regular speed since vinyl records went away, but I used to have this album on vinyl, and I did listen to that piece of "Revolution 9" backwards. I have to admit that it did sound like, "Turn me on, dead man," to me. The thing is, the reason I tried it was because I was told it would sound like that, so I was listening for it. No small detail, that, if you ask me.
So what's this all about? Why are people finding... or even looking for... such unusual statements backwards on a Beatles album? In late 1969, coinciding with the release of their Abbey Road album, a rumor started circulating that Paul McCartney had died, and that the other Beatles and their management had decided to keep it secret and replace him with the winner of Paul McCartney lookalike contest (a Mr. William Campbell of Canada, so the story went). Part of the legend was that the boys had decided to put some clues as to what had happened into the artwork, and within the lyrics of the songs, on their subsequent albums. "Turn me on, dead man," was alleged to be one such clue.
I don't imagine that there is anyone who believes this story these days. What amazes me is that anyone ever did. The most common version of the story was that Paul died in a car wreck. "He blew his mind out in a car," as John Lennon sang in "A Day in the Life." (John actually wrote that about Tara Browne, heir to the Guinness brewery fortune.) Obviously, a death by car accident is sudden and unexpected. The 3 remaining Beatles would have had to have met, with their management, proposed and agreed to the plan, communicated it to the police and media (they... all of them... were bought off to keep silent, don't you know), and gotten their acceptance --- all before word got out to anyone. Since then, of course, no one involved in the subterfuge ever broke with the plan. And, by sheer luck, the guy they found to be the replacement just happened to be every bit as talented as was Paul, given the success of his contributions to The Beatles remaining albums - "Penny Lane," "Back in the USSR," and "Let It Be," to name just a few - and his post-Beatles solo career.
Clearly, the holes in the story are big enough for Paul to have safely driven his car through that morning --- that morning being Wednesday, November 9, 1966, according to "evidence" presented in and on the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album*, which makes the clues people found on singles and albums released before that date quite interesting, if you ask me.
I said before that it surprised me that anyone believed this story. After a little consideration, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I've long been interested in urban legends - interested that people will believe fantastical claims that, when you get right down to it, are based on little more than "Some guy told me." I'm a frequent visitor to snopes.com and enjoy reading some of the patently ridiculous stories that some people apparently believe.
What strikes me the most, I think, about so may of these legends (and the "Paul is dead" one in particular) is that many of them involve large, not realistically possible, conspiracies and pacts of silence. "Paul is dead" is an extreme... maybe the extreme... example. But it's a common theme. You've likely gotten an email, once or a thousand times, warning you that an attacker has injured/raped/killed one or more people in your local mall's parking lot, and that the mall authorities paid off the police and local media to make sure you didn't hear about it. Were there such an attacker, perhaps a mall's management would be interested in keeping the story quiet. But, that's not how the police work, and that sure as hell ain't how the media work. There are, as I see it, 3 basic principles the media live by (it'll be another blog post... eventually [I know]). One of them is, Being First Is More Important Than Being Right. There is no way you could get multiple news outlets to all agree to sit on a story. Somebody would run it, just to be the first to do so... just to be the one that scooped everyone else. I doubt it was much, if at all, different in 1966.
It shouldn't take more than about 5 seconds of consideration to come to the conclusion that both of these stories are not only untrue, but literally impossible. It's theoretically possible that either cover up could have been tried (save for the inconvenient** business of Mr. James Paul McCartney's continuing to live), but there is simply no way either conspiracy could have ever been put in place and agreed to, let alone last for anything more than 10 or 15 minutes before somebody blabbed. And yet, you'll find someone to believe any ridiculous piece of garbage that comes across their inbox. Why? That's the part I've never been able to understand. Why do so many people believe these stories that are so obviously made up? Somebody please explain it to me.
*The date comes from an alleged clue on the album's cover art. If you place a mirror horizontally across the words "LONELY HEARTS" so that you see the top halves of those letters, and the reflections of those top halves (who found these clues?!?), it looks like "1 ONE 1 X HE (a diamond) DIE" - or 11 IX... 11 9... November 9. Except that, to the British Beatles, that date is 9 November, not November 9. 11/9 would be September 11. I once posted a facetious post in an online forum claiming that The Beatles had in fact been predicting the 9/11 attacks. Makes about as much sense as the "Paul is dead" story.
** My suspicion is that Paul himself does not consider this inconvenient.
So what's this all about? Why are people finding... or even looking for... such unusual statements backwards on a Beatles album? In late 1969, coinciding with the release of their Abbey Road album, a rumor started circulating that Paul McCartney had died, and that the other Beatles and their management had decided to keep it secret and replace him with the winner of Paul McCartney lookalike contest (a Mr. William Campbell of Canada, so the story went). Part of the legend was that the boys had decided to put some clues as to what had happened into the artwork, and within the lyrics of the songs, on their subsequent albums. "Turn me on, dead man," was alleged to be one such clue.
I don't imagine that there is anyone who believes this story these days. What amazes me is that anyone ever did. The most common version of the story was that Paul died in a car wreck. "He blew his mind out in a car," as John Lennon sang in "A Day in the Life." (John actually wrote that about Tara Browne, heir to the Guinness brewery fortune.) Obviously, a death by car accident is sudden and unexpected. The 3 remaining Beatles would have had to have met, with their management, proposed and agreed to the plan, communicated it to the police and media (they... all of them... were bought off to keep silent, don't you know), and gotten their acceptance --- all before word got out to anyone. Since then, of course, no one involved in the subterfuge ever broke with the plan. And, by sheer luck, the guy they found to be the replacement just happened to be every bit as talented as was Paul, given the success of his contributions to The Beatles remaining albums - "Penny Lane," "Back in the USSR," and "Let It Be," to name just a few - and his post-Beatles solo career.
Clearly, the holes in the story are big enough for Paul to have safely driven his car through that morning --- that morning being Wednesday, November 9, 1966, according to "evidence" presented in and on the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album*, which makes the clues people found on singles and albums released before that date quite interesting, if you ask me.
I said before that it surprised me that anyone believed this story. After a little consideration, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I've long been interested in urban legends - interested that people will believe fantastical claims that, when you get right down to it, are based on little more than "Some guy told me." I'm a frequent visitor to snopes.com and enjoy reading some of the patently ridiculous stories that some people apparently believe.
What strikes me the most, I think, about so may of these legends (and the "Paul is dead" one in particular) is that many of them involve large, not realistically possible, conspiracies and pacts of silence. "Paul is dead" is an extreme... maybe the extreme... example. But it's a common theme. You've likely gotten an email, once or a thousand times, warning you that an attacker has injured/raped/killed one or more people in your local mall's parking lot, and that the mall authorities paid off the police and local media to make sure you didn't hear about it. Were there such an attacker, perhaps a mall's management would be interested in keeping the story quiet. But, that's not how the police work, and that sure as hell ain't how the media work. There are, as I see it, 3 basic principles the media live by (it'll be another blog post... eventually [I know]). One of them is, Being First Is More Important Than Being Right. There is no way you could get multiple news outlets to all agree to sit on a story. Somebody would run it, just to be the first to do so... just to be the one that scooped everyone else. I doubt it was much, if at all, different in 1966.
It shouldn't take more than about 5 seconds of consideration to come to the conclusion that both of these stories are not only untrue, but literally impossible. It's theoretically possible that either cover up could have been tried (save for the inconvenient** business of Mr. James Paul McCartney's continuing to live), but there is simply no way either conspiracy could have ever been put in place and agreed to, let alone last for anything more than 10 or 15 minutes before somebody blabbed. And yet, you'll find someone to believe any ridiculous piece of garbage that comes across their inbox. Why? That's the part I've never been able to understand. Why do so many people believe these stories that are so obviously made up? Somebody please explain it to me.
*The date comes from an alleged clue on the album's cover art. If you place a mirror horizontally across the words "LONELY HEARTS" so that you see the top halves of those letters, and the reflections of those top halves (who found these clues?!?), it looks like "1 ONE 1 X HE (a diamond) DIE" - or 11 IX... 11 9... November 9. Except that, to the British Beatles, that date is 9 November, not November 9. 11/9 would be September 11. I once posted a facetious post in an online forum claiming that The Beatles had in fact been predicting the 9/11 attacks. Makes about as much sense as the "Paul is dead" story.
** My suspicion is that Paul himself does not consider this inconvenient.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I'd like to see...
Or, to be precise, I'd like not to see...
I wish the media would stop allowing themselves to be used as a forum for certain public figures to spread their spin, half-truths or outright lies, but who refuse to be interviewed or answer any questions about what they're saying.
I'll give you a few examples of what I'm talking about.
Since the recent economic stimulus package became law, there have been a handful of members of Congress putting out press releases to make sure that their constituents are well aware of the benefits coming to their home state or district. Press releases that invariably link the Congressperson's name with those benefits. The Congresspeople I'm referring to specifically are the ones who are doing this, despite the fact that they opposed, and voted against, the bill.
Baseball player Alex Rodriguez recently admitted that he has previously used steroids. In a February 17th press conference, Rodriguez claimed that the substance (acquired in the Dominican Republic and injected into him by his cousin) was one that his cousin believed would give him an "energy boost," and would have no ill effects. He had previously stated that he believed at the time that he was doing nothing wrong. A few questions I would have liked to have asked him are: Did you really believe you were doing nothing wrong in taking this substance that can not be acquired without a prescription in the US? Are you aware of any other "energy boost" products that are injected? And if you really believed this would just provide an "energy boost," and would have no ill effects - that you were doing nothing wrong - how many of your teammates did you encourage to use it? (Seems to me that it would be to the benefit of the team, no?) Of course, had I been at the press conference, I would not have had an opportunity. His team only allowed each reporter to ask one question, with no follow-ups. Of course he was evasive in answering all of the questions that were the least bit penetrating. Once the question was asked, the reporter had no opportunity to press him for a better answer.
I wish the various media outlets would stop giving these people a forum under these conditions. You want to put your message out there? Fine. Take questions. Give answers. Be held to account. Explain to us why you're taking credit for benefits in a bill you voted against. Tell us why you want us to believe you thought you were acting aboveboard, when everything you did was done in secrecy.
I know, I know. It'll never happen. But it would be nice.
I wish the media would stop allowing themselves to be used as a forum for certain public figures to spread their spin, half-truths or outright lies, but who refuse to be interviewed or answer any questions about what they're saying.
I'll give you a few examples of what I'm talking about.
Since the recent economic stimulus package became law, there have been a handful of members of Congress putting out press releases to make sure that their constituents are well aware of the benefits coming to their home state or district. Press releases that invariably link the Congressperson's name with those benefits. The Congresspeople I'm referring to specifically are the ones who are doing this, despite the fact that they opposed, and voted against, the bill.
Baseball player Alex Rodriguez recently admitted that he has previously used steroids. In a February 17th press conference, Rodriguez claimed that the substance (acquired in the Dominican Republic and injected into him by his cousin) was one that his cousin believed would give him an "energy boost," and would have no ill effects. He had previously stated that he believed at the time that he was doing nothing wrong. A few questions I would have liked to have asked him are: Did you really believe you were doing nothing wrong in taking this substance that can not be acquired without a prescription in the US? Are you aware of any other "energy boost" products that are injected? And if you really believed this would just provide an "energy boost," and would have no ill effects - that you were doing nothing wrong - how many of your teammates did you encourage to use it? (Seems to me that it would be to the benefit of the team, no?) Of course, had I been at the press conference, I would not have had an opportunity. His team only allowed each reporter to ask one question, with no follow-ups. Of course he was evasive in answering all of the questions that were the least bit penetrating. Once the question was asked, the reporter had no opportunity to press him for a better answer.
I wish the various media outlets would stop giving these people a forum under these conditions. You want to put your message out there? Fine. Take questions. Give answers. Be held to account. Explain to us why you're taking credit for benefits in a bill you voted against. Tell us why you want us to believe you thought you were acting aboveboard, when everything you did was done in secrecy.
I know, I know. It'll never happen. But it would be nice.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Five of Spades
There's a card trick/joke that I came up with when I was about 12. It's really not original, although at the time I thought of it, I hadn't seen it (or any of the variations of the same theme) before.
The way it goes is this: I start out with the well-known "pick a card, any card." While I'm obviously not looking, I have you select your card. Then, while I'm still not looking, I have you put your card back in the deck anywhere you like. I then take the deck. Depending on how much of a production I want to make of the trick, I may shuffle or cut the cards. I then take the deck in my left hand, and, while concentrating very intently on the feeling I'm getting from the cards, I move the thumb and middle finger of my right hand up and down the outside of the deck, trying to get a sense of the proper place to cut the deck to reveal your card. Again, depending on how much of a production I want to make of this, I can spend quite a bit of time doing this. When I'm ready, I cut the deck and reveal a card, asking, "Is this your card?" When the answer is revealed to be the obvious "No," (like I'm going to happen to cut the deck right at the card you picked?), I reply with a completely indifferent "So?" and move quickly to the next topic of conversation. Or, under the right circumstances, I'll toss toss the cards in the air, to spill about the table and floor. Or, sometimes, I'll reassemble the deck, and, with a bit of bend of the deck between my fingers, flip the cards in succession in the direction of my trick/joke stooge. I know, not terribly funny. Like I said, I was about 12 when I came up with it.
I tried the joke today with my wife. After she selected and replaced her card, I did my prestidigitation, and cut the deck to reveal the 5 of spades...
"Is this your card?"
"Yeah."
(pause)
"Really?"
"Yes."
(shorter pause)
"REALLY?"
"Yes."
dammit
The way it goes is this: I start out with the well-known "pick a card, any card." While I'm obviously not looking, I have you select your card. Then, while I'm still not looking, I have you put your card back in the deck anywhere you like. I then take the deck. Depending on how much of a production I want to make of the trick, I may shuffle or cut the cards. I then take the deck in my left hand, and, while concentrating very intently on the feeling I'm getting from the cards, I move the thumb and middle finger of my right hand up and down the outside of the deck, trying to get a sense of the proper place to cut the deck to reveal your card. Again, depending on how much of a production I want to make of this, I can spend quite a bit of time doing this. When I'm ready, I cut the deck and reveal a card, asking, "Is this your card?" When the answer is revealed to be the obvious "No," (like I'm going to happen to cut the deck right at the card you picked?), I reply with a completely indifferent "So?" and move quickly to the next topic of conversation. Or, under the right circumstances, I'll toss toss the cards in the air, to spill about the table and floor. Or, sometimes, I'll reassemble the deck, and, with a bit of bend of the deck between my fingers, flip the cards in succession in the direction of my trick/joke stooge. I know, not terribly funny. Like I said, I was about 12 when I came up with it.
I tried the joke today with my wife. After she selected and replaced her card, I did my prestidigitation, and cut the deck to reveal the 5 of spades...
"Is this your card?"
"Yeah."
(pause)
"Really?"
"Yes."
(shorter pause)
"REALLY?"
"Yes."
dammit
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Taxes
I've been thinking about taxes lately, as have a lot of us, I'm sure. Nobody really likes taxes, everybody (it seems) complains about them, but nobody really does anything about them. (I know what some of you are thinking, "What can I possibly do?" Well, for starters, you can talk to your elected representatives, and use their responses [and their votes] in your decision as to whether you're going to vote for them the next time.)
I came up with 2 ideas. To be honest, I don't think either is a workable plan. But they are, maybe, a start - something I can communicate to my representatives as perhaps a starting point for a conversation about what we might do.
First idea - Get rid of the "pay as you go" system. Prior to 1942, income tax was not withheld from paychecks in the U.S. That meant that you were responsible to pay your total tax due by the filing deadline, but it also meant that you had and held (not spent, if you were smart) that money over the course of the year, and you earned interest on it. It wouldn't be that difficult to set aside 15%, 25%, 28%, whatever is necessary, of your income into an interest-bearing account, and then to cut Uncle Sam a check once a year. (Actually, due to deductions and the progressive nature of our tax structure, if you're in, for example, the 28% tax bracket, you wouldn't pay... and wouldn't have to set aside... 28% of your income, as your actual tax burden would be noticeably less than that, but that level of detail isn't necessary for this discussion.)
As strange as this sounds, I think a lot of people lose track of how much money they pay in income tax every year. It shows up on your paycheck stub every 2 weeks (or however often you get paid.) It's right there on your W-2, and you have to write it on the 1040. But it's somehow not "real" money. You never see it, and when you're dealing with it at tax time, they already have it. It almost looks good, because it means either that you have to pay less, or you're going to get some back. They're giving me money!!! (Yeah, whose money?) I think it would be a much different story if we had to take that money out of our figurative pockets and hand it over to the government. I think people would be more mindful of how much they actually pay. And maybe (pipe dream alert!), just maybe, they would be a bit more inclined to hold those in Washington to account for how much is taken from us, and how it's used.
For anyone who gets a refund, the government is basically getting an interest-free loan from you. They have use of, or earn interest on, money that is rightfully yours, and then return it to you. When we do that, it's called a loan, and we pay interest for the privilege. That leads me to my...
Second idea - Pay interest on all refunds. They could make the formula as simple or as complicated as they wanted. I came up with a pretty simple one for our purposes here. Let's say they pay a 6% annual (or, 0.5% per month) interest rate. Let's say you're getting a $2,400 refund, meaning the IRS over-withheld $200 per month. For January's $200, they had it the whole year, so you get the full 6% - $12. For February's $200, you'd get 5.5% interest - $11. It would continue like that - $200 at 5%, $200 at 4.5%, etc. Overall, you'd get $78 interest, so your $2,400 refund would turn into a payment of $2,478.
The end result I'm going for is for the IRS to be, and/or allow us to be, smarter and more precise about how much of our income is withheld. The ultimate goal would be for everyone to be as close as possible to even on their 1040's - nothing due to the IRS, no refund due to the taxpayer. When I lived in Pennsylvania, it always worked that way for my state income tax. There was a flat 2.8% (I think) tax rate, and I had no deductions. They withheld 2.8% of every paycheck, so when I filed my return it was always even. I never paid to or received from the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania so much as $1 in conjunction with filing my tax return. What had been withheld always equalled my tax burden. I don't think it's possible to be quite that precise with our federal taxes, because there are so many variables, but I think... or maybe I just hope... it could be better than it is now.
Again, I'm not under any delusion that these ideas are usable in my simplistic form. But I think they could be the base upon which some workable ideas could be built.
I came up with 2 ideas. To be honest, I don't think either is a workable plan. But they are, maybe, a start - something I can communicate to my representatives as perhaps a starting point for a conversation about what we might do.
First idea - Get rid of the "pay as you go" system. Prior to 1942, income tax was not withheld from paychecks in the U.S. That meant that you were responsible to pay your total tax due by the filing deadline, but it also meant that you had and held (not spent, if you were smart) that money over the course of the year, and you earned interest on it. It wouldn't be that difficult to set aside 15%, 25%, 28%, whatever is necessary, of your income into an interest-bearing account, and then to cut Uncle Sam a check once a year. (Actually, due to deductions and the progressive nature of our tax structure, if you're in, for example, the 28% tax bracket, you wouldn't pay... and wouldn't have to set aside... 28% of your income, as your actual tax burden would be noticeably less than that, but that level of detail isn't necessary for this discussion.)
As strange as this sounds, I think a lot of people lose track of how much money they pay in income tax every year. It shows up on your paycheck stub every 2 weeks (or however often you get paid.) It's right there on your W-2, and you have to write it on the 1040. But it's somehow not "real" money. You never see it, and when you're dealing with it at tax time, they already have it. It almost looks good, because it means either that you have to pay less, or you're going to get some back. They're giving me money!!! (Yeah, whose money?) I think it would be a much different story if we had to take that money out of our figurative pockets and hand it over to the government. I think people would be more mindful of how much they actually pay. And maybe (pipe dream alert!), just maybe, they would be a bit more inclined to hold those in Washington to account for how much is taken from us, and how it's used.
For anyone who gets a refund, the government is basically getting an interest-free loan from you. They have use of, or earn interest on, money that is rightfully yours, and then return it to you. When we do that, it's called a loan, and we pay interest for the privilege. That leads me to my...
Second idea - Pay interest on all refunds. They could make the formula as simple or as complicated as they wanted. I came up with a pretty simple one for our purposes here. Let's say they pay a 6% annual (or, 0.5% per month) interest rate. Let's say you're getting a $2,400 refund, meaning the IRS over-withheld $200 per month. For January's $200, they had it the whole year, so you get the full 6% - $12. For February's $200, you'd get 5.5% interest - $11. It would continue like that - $200 at 5%, $200 at 4.5%, etc. Overall, you'd get $78 interest, so your $2,400 refund would turn into a payment of $2,478.
The end result I'm going for is for the IRS to be, and/or allow us to be, smarter and more precise about how much of our income is withheld. The ultimate goal would be for everyone to be as close as possible to even on their 1040's - nothing due to the IRS, no refund due to the taxpayer. When I lived in Pennsylvania, it always worked that way for my state income tax. There was a flat 2.8% (I think) tax rate, and I had no deductions. They withheld 2.8% of every paycheck, so when I filed my return it was always even. I never paid to or received from the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania so much as $1 in conjunction with filing my tax return. What had been withheld always equalled my tax burden. I don't think it's possible to be quite that precise with our federal taxes, because there are so many variables, but I think... or maybe I just hope... it could be better than it is now.
Again, I'm not under any delusion that these ideas are usable in my simplistic form. But I think they could be the base upon which some workable ideas could be built.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Nasty sick
We're all sick in the house. Started with my mother-in-law, I got it next, now my wife is working on coming down with the acute symptoms. Tho there ain't no way in hell "cute" out to be anywhere near a description of what happens when this thing takes hold. Picture the Mr. Creosote scene from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, and imagine the same type of thing happening along the Southern passage (if you catch my meaning). At the same time. By the way, if you're unfamiliar with Mr. Creosote, don't click the link if you tend towards queasiness. The Wikipedia page for Mr. Creosote states, "It has been suggested that the scene is one of the most repulsive in twentieth-century cinema." You've been warned.
Fortunately, the worst of it only seems to last for about a day. Not even a full day, in my case, and that was yesterday. I'm on the way to recovery, but by no means there yet. M-I-L came down with it 4 days ago, and still gets a little distressed by eating anything other than the softest solid foods.
It's been, and will continue to be, quite a fun few days.
Fortunately, the worst of it only seems to last for about a day. Not even a full day, in my case, and that was yesterday. I'm on the way to recovery, but by no means there yet. M-I-L came down with it 4 days ago, and still gets a little distressed by eating anything other than the softest solid foods.
It's been, and will continue to be, quite a fun few days.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Yoga
My wife and I started a yoga class through our school district's Adult Community Ed program. (Actually, the class started last Thursday. The weather was bad, and the Community Ed hotline said all classes were cancelled. This class - which is not run at the Comm Ed building, but at a local gym which was open for business - was held as normal [except that several of us who are signed by through Ed, not through the gym, were not there]. But that, like the proposed-but-never-built 103rd floor of the Empire State Building, is another story.)
Guess what? My body's not stretchy. This is a class for beginners. In theory, the other people have maybe one class' worth of experience more than me. Didn't seem like that tonight, tho. I felt about as poseable one of those little green Army men, in a room full of Stretch Armstrongs. I think (hope) that it didn't help that I worked out, as I normally do, after work - did 35 minutes plus cooldown on the stair machine - then went straight to yoga, trying to bend and balance on legs I had just put through a different exertion. I'll have to work out earlier on Thursdays while I'm in this class, I guess.
But I know it's not all that. Several of my muscles just are not well stretched. Yet. That, of course, is the whole purpose of the class. I think it might take more than 10 sessions, tho. I don't think the purpose of yoga is, for example, to have a different vertebra pop each time I go into the upward-facing dog pose. Ow.
Guess what? My body's not stretchy. This is a class for beginners. In theory, the other people have maybe one class' worth of experience more than me. Didn't seem like that tonight, tho. I felt about as poseable one of those little green Army men, in a room full of Stretch Armstrongs. I think (hope) that it didn't help that I worked out, as I normally do, after work - did 35 minutes plus cooldown on the stair machine - then went straight to yoga, trying to bend and balance on legs I had just put through a different exertion. I'll have to work out earlier on Thursdays while I'm in this class, I guess.
But I know it's not all that. Several of my muscles just are not well stretched. Yet. That, of course, is the whole purpose of the class. I think it might take more than 10 sessions, tho. I don't think the purpose of yoga is, for example, to have a different vertebra pop each time I go into the upward-facing dog pose. Ow.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Tagged
Wow. Have I seriously not blogged for 2 whole months (plus)? I'd love to take this opportunity to provide a good reason, but I really don't have one. Just got lazy, then it snowballed.
Anyway, I got tagged on this blog, and thus am charged with providing you with 16 random facts about myself.
1. There was a time in my life when the one thing that really wanted to be when I grew up was the play-by-play broadcaster for the Philadelphia Flyers.
2. My mother considered naming me Emmett. I would have preferred if she had.
3. I once served 2 Filet-o-Fish sandwiches to a man who now has a baseball stadium named after him.
4. I did not sleep at all for the 26 or so hours it took my friend and me to drive straight-through from Wilmington, Delaware to Houston, Texas.
5. I attended the highest-scoring playoff game in National Football League history.
6. I have watched the sun come up over the Atlantic Ocean and set over the Pacific Ocean.
7. More than 10% of the songs in my mp3 player right now are by The Beatles, and that is not counting post-Beatles solo work.
8. I think I probably would have made a good detective.
9. At any point in time, I tend to have 3 or 4 books that I'm in the process of reading.
10. I once (unsuccessfully) tried to convince some of my Catholic school classmates that teachers who weren't priests or nuns were called "lay teachers" because they're allowed to have sex.
11. I don't know for sure, but I think it's likely that I have - over the whole course of my life - spent more time than do most people imagining what it would be like if I were confined to a wheelchair, or if I lost a limb.
12. As recently as, like, a year ago, I honestly would not have thought that the U.S. would elect a black President in my lifetime.
13. For reasons I really don't understand, I am very bad about keeping in touch with the people I care about.
14. Sometimes, I think the fictional character I most closely resemble is Walter Mitty - and I have more than 2 hours alone in the car every day I go to work.
15. I once dreamed that I met Lionel Ritchie.
16. I firmly believe that my humor is under appreciated.
If you blog, you're now tagged.
Anyway, I got tagged on this blog, and thus am charged with providing you with 16 random facts about myself.
1. There was a time in my life when the one thing that really wanted to be when I grew up was the play-by-play broadcaster for the Philadelphia Flyers.
2. My mother considered naming me Emmett. I would have preferred if she had.
3. I once served 2 Filet-o-Fish sandwiches to a man who now has a baseball stadium named after him.
4. I did not sleep at all for the 26 or so hours it took my friend and me to drive straight-through from Wilmington, Delaware to Houston, Texas.
5. I attended the highest-scoring playoff game in National Football League history.
6. I have watched the sun come up over the Atlantic Ocean and set over the Pacific Ocean.
7. More than 10% of the songs in my mp3 player right now are by The Beatles, and that is not counting post-Beatles solo work.
8. I think I probably would have made a good detective.
9. At any point in time, I tend to have 3 or 4 books that I'm in the process of reading.
10. I once (unsuccessfully) tried to convince some of my Catholic school classmates that teachers who weren't priests or nuns were called "lay teachers" because they're allowed to have sex.
11. I don't know for sure, but I think it's likely that I have - over the whole course of my life - spent more time than do most people imagining what it would be like if I were confined to a wheelchair, or if I lost a limb.
12. As recently as, like, a year ago, I honestly would not have thought that the U.S. would elect a black President in my lifetime.
13. For reasons I really don't understand, I am very bad about keeping in touch with the people I care about.
14. Sometimes, I think the fictional character I most closely resemble is Walter Mitty - and I have more than 2 hours alone in the car every day I go to work.
15. I once dreamed that I met Lionel Ritchie.
16. I firmly believe that my humor is under appreciated.
If you blog, you're now tagged.
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