Times wasters in PA

Lovely report I heard this morning on the local radio news station. It seems a "survey " was taken and in the ranks of slackerdom in the workplace, PA ranks #8 out of 51 (yes, 51 - least we forget Washington DC which should have lead the list IMHO). PA employees waste an average 2.3 hours a day in the workplace which purportedly costs companies billions in unproductive wages.

The station was doing live man-on-the-street interviews in Center City (at 6 AM?) asking people whether they waste time at work. Eeee-yah! Like anyone will owe up to it! The first two I heard vehemently denied such wasteful habits. Another stated he was 64 (or something in the 60's) and he never wasted company time. But, he was quick to talk about other people who do so (i.e., long coffee breaks, extended lunches, etc). Tattle-tale!

Sheesh ... not like I do it (she says to herself while blogging at work).

DOH!

Love notes from jury selection

Jury duty?! The summons was staring right back at me in my post box along with the other junk mail I don't care to ever receive. Of all the thankless, boring, time-wasting things one can do with a perfectly productive day, this ranks up there in the top five. I am pretty sure there are worse things but I just can't think of any right now. And it's on a Friday! Sweet Mother-May-I. Yeah, some people might think "Oh, long weekend" Wrong! Take one part Center City, add Friday traffic and mix in summertime and you get asphyxiation from sitting to damn long in some cluster jam. And it starts at 8:15 AM in the Criminal Justice building. Criminal? Hello, don't want to be in same building with soon to be convicts. And you can't take your cell phone in with you? What kind of horse poo is that?

I know! I'll say I didn't get it. My post office sucks! They're constantly screwing up the mail deliveries. I've probably delivered more mail to my neighbor than the postal carrier has. But what to do with the evidence? Of course, the shredder! I'll just pop that notice in there along with the utility bills and mortgage statements. It's perfect! I can only play this hand once in a lifetime and that time has come.

However, my good self and bad self - Yin and Yang - have decided to pay me visit. Terrific.

"You must go. It's your civic duty."

"Are you high? It's on a Friday! Not happening."

"You get the opportunity to be a part of the justice system."

"Oooo, there's a real enticement. I'll pass. And how about the lavish monetary compensation you get? What is it ... $7? Wow. There's motivation."

"You'll meet new people and get to stroll Center City during lunch."

"Ummmmm, nope."

"Others are depending on you to be there. The lawyers, the judges, ..."

"The drug dealers, the insurance bilkers, the crack whores, blah blah blah."

"You won't have to go to work and see those bloated, fatheads that think they know everything including running a company."

long silence ...

"Good point, you win."

Dammit!!

Fine, I'm going. Though, if asked, I'm telling them I believe in the electric bench.

this falls under "you've got to be kidding"

I realize there are battles that one must fight on the grounds of the "principal of the matter". And this gentleman is either going to go down in [brief] media history as one of those admired fighters, or a doofus.

Fighting Ticket the Hard Way

malls: bad place to be with available credit

How is it one can think rationally and modestly during the week - brown bag the lunch, take the shortest route to save on gas, refill the same Deer Park bottle until the label starts to get funky - and then once the weekend hits, you're like Rockerfeller on a spending spree at the mall?

It seems that lately, when we go to the mall, the family has no problem dropping a few hundred here and a few bucks there. Even the baby gets in on the action. We'll stroll into Baby Gap and her little hands reach out and I swear grabs THE most expensive little outfit she can get her mitts on. And it doesn't stop there ... then she'll look at shoes and I honestly believe she is looking for the best match. WTF?!?!

Geo can not go near a Camera Shop without drooling over the latest SLR digital cameras. Ever check the price on one of those little gems? Asking him to consider a little pocket digital and he looks like a little boy who was just told he can't have X toy in aisle three at Toys R Expensive. He equates the pocket digitals to the 110's of yesteryear. Can't say I blame him - pocket digitals are on there way to becoming the new fodder at the front of checkout lines in Wal-Mart.

I am not immune to the whole buying hype. Macy's? Open a credit line to get that extra 15%? Sure, why not! Oh, and look at this suit and those shoes! They're how much? And I get the extra 15%? Ya-hoo!! Geo, see anything you want? Oh - shame.

And then the hour comes when the merchants of the mall say,

"Get the hell out of here! We want to go home sometime tonight!"

Alas, the baby didn't get her outfit. Geo didn't get his camera. Geo and I did get titanium wedding bands for our big day. I got my suit, my shoes, and my Nintendo DS (my birthday present).

I know I'll be gripping my heart and doing my best Fred Sanford impersonation when THAT bill comes in!

all good plans can go awry

I am not going to be on the computer that much this weekend. I was not going to be on it at all. We were due in Baltimore for our friends' grandchild's christening tomorrow. However, our little one has decided this would be the perfect time to be sick.

It started with the usual crankiness and slight fever. It has progressed since then to high fever and the inability to keep anythin gin her tummy. Doctor visit is next.

Ah yes, the joy of parenting.

So, it'll be Pedialyte and grape Tylenol for this household all weekend.

and the rain rain rain came down down down

What a miserable friggin day.

I do not mind a little rain. I love thunderstorms. Hell, I even like hurricane type weather minus the property damage.

But this grey ... gloomy ... constant ... cold ... pelleting rain completely sucks.

And I can't stand the people who are all "Oh but we need the rain and it nourishes the flowers and the puddles give drinks to the birds and it makes the air smell so clean ..." Stuff it already! We are not under drought restrictions, I have allergies, stagnant water breeds mosquitoes, and if you want clean air buy a damn purifier.

O.K., I'm feeling a bit better now that I got that out of my system.

I really like the above painting. It's titled Spring Rain (1912) by John Sloan. He was a Philadelphia artist who was more famous for his paintings of New York than of Philly. And yes, I do believe that is City Hall in the background.

can't buy me love

This was a conversation with Geo earlier today. He's so simple, it's cute:

(Geo in italics)

"So, what do you want for your birthday?"

"I don't know. Haven't thought about it much."

"Oh. So what am I getting for my birthday?"

"What? I just paid to get your German helmet custom painted, remember?"

"I thought you did that 'cause you wuv me."

"Yeah, O.K."

"I knew it. You're just trying to buy my love."

"Are you kidding? Honey, for you, that's as easy as the dollar menu at McDonald's"

NE Philly and Eminent Domain

It seems NE Philadelphia has not been spared by the threat of Eminent Domain and the local powers that love abusing it.

I ran across this article last week and couldn't believe what I was reading. Mind you, Eminent Domain has always been around. It's just now getting the media attention it desperately deserves.

In some situations, Eminent Domain does benefit local communities and their surrounding areas. But at what cost? Who is the real beneficiary of such deals? I never thought about it until I read this:

Northwood Doesn't Like City's Seizure of Property

the drive home

A lot of people must be on holiday this week because so far *touch wood* the traffic has been light going to and coming from work.

But that does not spare anyone from the occasional smacked ass the state troopers of PA felt it O.K. to issue a license to.

Like always , I was talking to Geo on the cell via the headset. It is our only form of communication during the week. It's also probably been the key to such a successful relationship. Anyway, talking to Geo (keep in mind the man drives an 18-wheeler for a living):

"So where you at, babe?"

"On 84 in Connecticut in rush hour."

"Sounds like fun"

"Oh yeah, thrills. O.K. everyone, I got to get over so yield or get pushed in the shoulder."

a few seconds later

"Did they yield?"

"Yeah. One whore in her little sports car was holding out but she got wise and moved at the last second."

"Nice babe"

"I don't give a fuck. I got my turn signal on and it's an exit lane. They don't want to move, fuck'em."

someone cuts me off on the boulevard. I blurt out

"Nice move, you nasty jiz-bucket!"

moment of silence

"You've got anger issues."

"What?!"

"Yeah, you mean old cantankerous thing."

"You've got to be kidding me. Next to you I'm Mary freaking Poppins."

I hear the baby in the backseat. I look in the mirror to see what she is doing. She's pointing her little finger and yelling some gibberish at the other drivers. Geo hears her.

"What's she doing?"

"Giving the other drivers hell."

"That's my girl!"

"Yeah, well, provided she doesn't say jiz-bucket in front of my parents, we'll be fine."

"We? Don't even think about it. You're on your own, sister."

"thanks"

my sincerest sympathies to London

I won't do a lengthy post on the subject matter of the London bombings today. I realize the 'net will be choked with various blogs and news reports.

I also did not want to appear ignorant.

So with that, I extend my sincerest and deepest sympathies to our distant cousins across the pond.

oh joy - my files are back

Figures. Right after I blog my frustrations, our IT guy walks in my office

"All seems to be working now. Let me check your system"

He used the mouse and typed in some codes - I didn't know what the heck he was doing.

I normally consider myself rather computer literate. Then I watch someone who went to school for networking and I revert back to being a knuckle-dragging cave dweller chiselling pictures of horses on stone.

repeat after me ... I love my job I love my job

My company has made the grandiose decision to move our company server from Wisconsin to Pennsylvania. Why they kept the dumb thing in WI all these years still boggles the mind.

Quite politely, our server in WI sucked the big proverbial bone. It was ancient, it always froze (usually right in the middle of a report that took about an hour to create), and it was at its max capacity. That is not good for a growing company.

The server gets set up over the extended weekend. All goes well transferring data from old server to new server. Everything theoretically should be perfect for the start of the new business day.

I log in yesterday - the entire My Documents folder is missing. Oooooh-kay. I open my e-mail. All of my archived e-mail is gone. I check past customer files - POOF! Everything I need to do my daily job has disappeared.

What about backup you might ask? The server WAS my backup.

I was told not to panic - that it was all probably stuck in the network somewhere. Not a big comfort.

And to make matters even worse - our fiscal year just ended. Gee, now where is all that data I need to create my end of year reports? Oh yeah ...

YOU BONEHEADS LOST IT!!!!!

damn paparazzi

Can't even let a cute little kid enjoy a freakin hamburger!!!

SCRAM

she's trying to kill me part deux

Cue the Flight of the Bumlebee as background music

Getting ready this morning and running around like the manical goof I can be, I tripped over one of the baby's toys. I went flopping to the ground. I now have a limp.

She must have caught wind of the insurance policy.

trikes and fishbowls

My fourth of July consisted of going to Walmart at Whitman Square with the baby. Ooooo, mighty celebration there. I used to be really into the Independence Day gig when I was younger. Nowadays, I just can not get into the 4th and all the hullabaloo that goes along with it. I try. I was tempted by the TNT tent in the parking lot but decided to forgo it. Maybe we'll do the pyrotechnics next year. The baby will be older so she can light the fuses (just kidding).

Walmart was boring. My presence did not enhance it one bit. The baby thought it was great. She thinks walking to the corner to drop a letter in the post is awesome. We bought the usual fare: lightbulbs, car wash stuff, cleaners, etc. A real ripping time.

Home was a bit more interesting. Geo was busy playing Medal of Honor - European Front on his PS2. The baby jumped on her tiny trike and zoomed around the house. I decided to change the lightbulbs in the ceiling fan in the dining room using one of the chairs as a stepladder.

As I reached up to grab one of the burnt out bulbs I happened to look down.

Here comes the baby on the trike.

*CRASH*

Right into my chair. Thank goodness she's light and I was pretty stable. Geo was absolutely no good laughing at the whole scene and the baby thought the crash was pretty funny, too.

All that kept running through my mind was the over the balcony scene from The Omen.

defining pain

Geo and the baby always rough-house with each other. That's his way of bonding with her. He will also add,

"If anyone bothers her at school, I know she can take care of herself."

Sure, but I'm the one who will get the phone call.

I suggested he try to read to her her favorite book, If You Give A Pig A Panacake, the other night. He did and two seconds after he read it, she shouted,

"Mommy, your turn"

Not a good ego booster. So ended the book reading idea.

After a round of square-circle melee on the living room floor, Geo went to bed - he has to leave out at midnight. No fireworks watching this fourth.

I popped in a Dora the Explorer DVD for her entertainment and sat on the floor to watch it with her.

She got up from her chair and darted into the back room giggled and tip-toeing. I paid no nevermind since she is always doing goofy stuff like that.

Then it hit me ... literally!

She booked out of the back family room and ran full force into me knocking me on to my side. She knelt down next to me with this big ole smile and put her face right up to mine and said,

"You O.K., Mommy?"

Yeah, I can hear the phone calls from here.

Americana Found in the Coal Hills of PA

Note: this blog is about our adventure from last weekend. The reason for the delay was I just uploaded the pictures onto my laptop today (Geo had the card in his camera in the truck on the road out of state *whew*)

Geo, the baby, and I love to go on endless drives. No plans, no itinerary, no idea, usually no money. Many times on a Sunday afternoon after playing everyones favorite game of "What Do You Want To Do? I Don't Know, What Do You Want to Do?", we'll find ourselves loaded into the family sedan and off on an adventure to who knows where. If we play the game early enough, we go on ventures to places like Rehobeth Beach or one time we drove to St Michael's. This is all on a whim with not much more than a travel toddler bag and a debit card as our belongings.

So when we actually planned a trip, you can imagine the monkey wrench that put on our routine of no routine.

It was simple and he even suggested it. We all get up early, get ready, and head out the door. Total cakewalk.

I knew the plan was destined for doom from jump street.

I woke up at 6:00AM. For me, that's actually sleeping late. I get ready, brew some caffeine, threw a load of laundry in (that is just a sick neurosis of mine - later on that another day), and proceed to wake everyone (all two of them) up. The baby was no big since she wakes up frighteningly early on weekdays. All seemed to be a go.

Geo was a different story.

I did everything to wake him up short of throwing a spaghetti pot of water on his head. He was impossible. The man would not budge. At 7:15AM, he finally rose from his slumber.

O.K., now the thoughts running through my head were not good. I visioned us not getting out of the house on time, getting stuck in traffic, and getting to our destination so late we wouldn't enjoy it. Hence, I was in super bitch mode.

Geo thought I was PMSing. Ha! Little did he know that was the source of my mania in the beginning of the week.

I got the baby ready, packed her bag (diapers, snackies, drink boxes, SPF solar flare, etc), poured two coffees for the road, threw laundry in the dryer, and cleaned the dishes in the sink.

Geo woke up, put on clothes, and sat down read his e-mail. I couldn't believe he didn't do one thing to help me other than dress himself (I draw the line there).

In between my slamming doors and grumbling, we managed to all get ready and out the door at 9:00AM. We wanted to be out the door by 8:00 so in my mind we were already an hour late. More grumbling, a few knit-brow looks, and arms folded. I was not a happy person and the world was going to know it.

Our travels took us from the PA Turnpike to the Reading exit. From there we went north - what route? I don't know. Geo is the truck driver. He knows that stuff. I am in accounting. Give me a spreadsheet and an adding machine and things are safe to me. Sorry, I digress. So, we went north to route 61 and then to 54.

This route is awesome. Lots of coal-mining towns that would be the perfect backdrop for a motion picture based on life, opportunity, and lost dreams. That scene played out everywhere you looked. From outdated banners, still stretched over the road, informing of the town's founding festival to the stores now boarded up and closed, things that once were told tales of how it used to be.

And then there is Centralia. Yes, we saw signs for the town that has been burning underground since May 1962. I asked Geo if we could take a detour to check it out. I always heard about the dead trees everywhere and the plumes of toxic smoke that seep out of the ground. I wanted to see it. But we were already behind schedule and Geo saw a flea market he just had to peruse. So that will be a drive stop for another day.

A couple of cheesy purchases later, we were back on the road and only twenty or so minutes from our destination. This trip felt like it was taking forever. Looking at the clock in the Saturn, it was almost 2:00PM. It was taking forever. I was back in grouch mode.

We jump off 54 to 487 and there are the signs to our destination. Our end stop ...

Knoebels Amusement Park

This is the amusement park that time forgot. Aside from the ATM and Dippin Dots kiosks, you would swear this place fell right out of the 1960's.

There are many aspects of Knoebels which enhances its endearing nostalgia.

One thing is you can bring your own food and drink (no alcohol though). They have this huge picnic area decorated with giant wooden pavillons near the entrance of the park. A variety of birthdays, company outings, and family get-togethers were bustling inside the shell structures. Large chalkboards nailed to posts designated seating arrangements for all parties within. Children darted in and around the picnic tables as adults set up their edible wares from giant igloo coolers. It was a scene out of my own childhood of family church picnics I swore could only be replayed as reruns in my mind.

Everything about this park is free. Well maybe not everything. O.K., two things - the parking and the gaining of entrance. Everything else has to be purchased. Other parks in the area start charging you before you even get out of your car by way of parking fees. Fees to get into most local amusements range from $25 to $50. And that is just for the privilege to walk through the front gates. Mostly none will allow food or beverages.

We had to park way in the back because of how late we arrived. This bothered me at first, but, as Geo pointed out "we're closer to the exit so we don't have fight with the colorful word idiots getting out of here". Well put ... and that ultimately drained away my grouchy feeling for the rest of the day.

Did I forget to mention the rides at this place? Talk about a mixture of Coney Island with a little national park forestry thrown in. The rides are incredible. And cheap!!! A book of tickets cost just $10 and most of the rides are less than a $1 to ride. I'm not a economist but if you ask me, that surely is a good bang for your buck. They are divided into three categories: Thrill, Family, and Kiddie. We went on the Runaway Tugboat, Roto Jets (my daughter's second favorite), The Ferris Wheel, the Spanish Bambini, and, of course, The Grand Carousel (my daughter's fave). We had to skip the thrill rides - some stupid rule of 42" in height and people with back problems.

For the ultimate cost of one and a half tanks of gas, five hours drive time, and $20 in tickets (bringing home one unused book), the whole family got to enjoy a day outside and dig some good old fashion rides. All out two thumbs up from this crew!

And I finally got over my crankiness (thank goodness - it's a long walk back to Philly).

your heirs, the year 2010, and Kevorkian

Here's something to ponder.

Congress has gradually been raising the bar on how much one can leave behind when they pass on without their heirs getting nailed with estate taxes.

This year, 2005, the bar has been raised to $1.5 million. In 2009, it jumps to $3.5 million. In 2010, the federal estate tax will purportedly be repealed. GONE!

And that just so happens to be the same year Dr. Jack Kevorkian is eligible for parole from prison.

Very interesting

Happy 4th of July!

Yes folks, it's that time again! Time for grilling, chilling, and other stuff. And yes, I'll never make it as a rap artist.

My hometown is bracing itself for the bottle-necking onslaught of people for the Live 8 concert tomorrow. I could care less. Of course I would love to see DMB and BEP but in that crowd? No way.

Besides, the more bs I hear and read about this concert, the more disenchanted I have become with the whole deal.

"We don't want your money, we want YOU"

That's the battle cry of the Live 8 festivities. Eee-yah. They're just worried that the backlash that followed Live Aid won't happen this time. It was best noted by Beavis and Butthead that Live Aid and We Are the World was nothing more "than a bunch of rich people asking us for money".

Simple solution .. don't beg for cash. Instead, set up a concert on a weekend in a city that already has days of traditional festivities booked.

DOH!

So the world can come on down, watch Live 8, dig the rest of the Philly Freedom Festival, and grab a cheesesteak or two.

Me? I'll be in my backyard with the family, sipping a Guiness, eating grilled food, and watching the illegal display of fireworks in my neighborhood.

Cheers!

we're the doodlebops, we're the doodlebops

We're the Doodlebops ... OH YEAH!

Welcome to my nightmare!

When I was growing up, Sesame Street had just come into being. Now that was a cool show to a toddler/pre-schooler growing up in the 70's. As I got older, the muppets evolved into The Muppet Show. That was on every Wednesday night at 7:30 on the CBS station in Philly. I remember that because it was also grocery shopping night for my parents. As they were unloading bags, I was watching Dr Bunsen Honeydew quite accidently blow up/liquidate/electrocute his poor, squeaky lab assistant, Beaker. And then there were the onslsught of cool hosts like Carly Simon, John Denver, The Carpenters, Carol Burnett, and other assorted 70's super-stars.

Then came Fraggle Rock. That show scared the hoohoo-gagags out of me. It was the Muppets on acid. I know it was a WAY popular show but I just could not for the life of me get into it. Granted, I was a teenager when it was first produced, but, hey, teens watch this stuff, ya know!

I thought to myself "Oh boy, they can't possibly top a show as creepy as this".

Television producers tried their darndest to prove me wrong. They came out with The Care Bears circa 1980's, Rainbow Brite, Jem (she's truly outrageous), Gummi Bears (not just for breakfast anymore), My Little Pony with the jeweled eyes, plus a slew of other annoying yet not as monumental as Fraggle Rock children shows.

Then came the 1990's. The decade of grunge, gangsta rap, and Barney and Friends.

It was 1992 to be exact. I saw this big, fat purple dinosaur on the local PBS station and thought "Dear Lord, it's Dino on steroids". I thought that there was no way this over sized, mentally challenged, DUH of a dinosaur can become popular.

I also did not have kids; hence, I was so wrong.

I ignored the avalanche of Barney toys, Barney furniture, Barney luchboxes (the defining point of immortal status IMHO), Barney music, Barney VHS tapes,etc that plagued the aisles of the local Toys R Us. I also ignored the endless barrage of jokes.

And if Barney was not bad enough, along came the next generation of cute colorful kiddie shows derived from a serious acid trip ...

the Teletubbies. Words cannot describe my true feelings to these little guys. The show was particularly disturbing. I mean, the sun was a giant baby's face! Again, I thought, "Can never be popular". Again, I thought wrong. These little things were everywhere. Even the adultsof the great NE Philly were sporting Teletubbie gear.

But now it's a new millenium with a new generation of TV shows aimed at children to force their parents to buy tons of stuff the kid won't even like once the shows popularity wears off. And I am now one of those parents. I never thought I was going to have kids. It's amazing how wrong I have been about a lot of things in the past few years.

So now the world of children's television sports the likes of the Wiggles and the subject of this blog, the Doodlebops. The Doodlebops are the latest in Disney Channels quest to rule morning television. If that were judged by my household, mission accomplished. I haven't had anything above a G rating on my TV in over three weeks. We have gone from "Fruit Salad" and "Hot Potatoe" to "Let's Get on the Bus" and "We're the Doodlebops". But I digress. So there we are, whereas the Wiggles hail from Down Under, the Doodlebops come from our neighbors to the North. It's cute and fun and colorful and my daughter loves to sing and dance along with the characters. Downside: I ham stuck watching it, too! When I watched both of these shows, what with their singing and dancing and general silliness, I thought "Nah, my kid won't get hooked".

I really have to stop this thinking stuff.