Nothing for Something

Everyone has heard the old saying, “You can’t get something for nothing.”  I’d like to propose a new saying: “You CAN get nothing for something.” I’m not talking about the feeling you get when you go to the store, spend $100, get home, unload everything, put it away and then realize you still don’t have anything for dinner. I’m talking about paying for something that SHOULD BE or USED TO BE free.

Take shopping carts, for example. Some stores have started charging a .25 deposit to use their shopping cart. I get it. They are tired of their shopping carts disappearing from their parking lots and ending up at bus stops or as laundry carts in senior living facilities (know this one for a fact.) Now technically, since the quarter is merely a deposit and I will get it back if I return the cart (which I always do anyway), I know I’m not really paying to use it. But I find it somewhat of a major inconvenience to dig through my purse for a quarter. Why? Because chances are good that I probably don’t even have one. I have proudly entered the 21st century and use a debit card. I quit worrying about quarters when I graduated from college and no longer had to make change at dime beer night to pay for my laundry.  From a homeless person’s perspective, however, if I could scrape up a quarter, I basically just paid a visit to the poor man’s Enterprise Rent-A-Car. AND, no matter how much I bang up the cart or how long I keep it, if I return it, I get my quarter back!! BRILLIANT!

Since I’m already on shopping, let’s discuss the dreaded shopping channel. Why are shopping channels included in my “Top 120″ channels for my satellite subscription? Of my “Top 120″ at least 15 of them are shopping channels and in the wee hours of the morning, even my regular channels feature “paid programming.” Now I understand that there are some folks who are homebound and that this may be their only means of shopping. But as such, why can’t these channels sell something useful? I dated a guy whose grandma lived for HSN. She had scads of jewelry, hand creams, pillows, and a frequent shoppers card, but not much food. If I’m going to pay for a shopping channel, give me one that that sells complete, home cooked meals, or at the very least, give me a virtual grocery store option. We’ve got enough gaudy purses, ladders that fold into more positions than a yogi, and “Slap Chops.” Well, not me, personally, but as I’ve already pointed out, I don’t shop off the TV.

This next one really gets my figurative goat; newspapers that charge a full subscription price to read the obituaries online. Again, I get it. They are losing money to the convenient, alluring glow of the “nets.” I suppose charging a fee to read the ENTIRE newspaper online is understandable, but when I just want to find out where and when the funeral is, and what kind of memorial gift the family is requesting, I don’t think I should have to pay for a full subscription. What’s worse is how they trick you into thinking you’re going to get all the info you need. You type in the name and approximate location and submit your info for a search and several options pop up. You scroll through the search results, read the small blurbs, find one and think “THIS IS IT! This is the information I am seeking!” You click on the link and BAM! “Please log in to read the rest of this story.” Sons-a-bit….don’t get me started. It’s not enough that I’m grieving, but now I have to CONTACT the grieving family and make them repeat for the umpteenth time, the details of the dearly departed’s departure. Bottom line – obituaries should be able to be read FOR FREE at all times. Dear editor: greed should not precede grief.

Moving on.

Fast food joints are not satisfied enough to insult us merely by serving us lukewarm, greasy, maybe-it’s-done-maybe-it’s-not food.  They now have added insult to injury by charging us for an extra packet of “sauce,” which, in my opinion, is really a necessity because it assists in covering up the actual taste of the food.  I don’t eat a lot of fast food, but when I do, I want my sauce. Be it ketchup, honey mustard, barbecue or sweet n’sour, my chicken nuggets AND my fries are going to get kissed by da’ sauce. And I mean a big, flat sloppy kiss – not a peck on the cheek. So don’t hand me a 1 ounce packet of sauce and then tell me that it’s going to be .50 more if I want another one. Especially since I recently found out that a Wendy’s in a small neighboring town does over $2 million per year. I learned that hot and juicy little tidbit when my husband was hired to strip off and replace their wallpaper and he found mold. Rather than closing the store (as they should have done), they hired a cleaning crew to come in overnight because, as we were told in a frosty tone, “This store will never close. We make too much money.” So Wendy’s, the next time I ask for an extra packet of dressing for my salad, just hand it over and consider it hush money. I’ve got the health department number on speed dial and I’m not afraid to use it.

And finally, my favorite – paying for air. Air has been available since Genesis 1:1 when God created the heavens and the earth, or at the very latest, Genesis 1:6 when he separated water from sky. I wonder if He knew that a few thousand years later, someone would have to pay $1 to put a little air in their tire (of course He did; rhetorical question.) With pollution on the rise, I have to face the realization that there may come a time when we have to pay simply to breathe fresh air. I can only hope that when that day comes, they take debit cards, because unless dime beer nights are still around, I certainly won’t have the change.

Litter Bugs Don’t Give a Hoot

I have a confession to make. I used to be a bug terrorist. I used to squish spiders with my shoe. I’ve been known to take a badminton racket and whack lightening bugs just to see the strings glow. And those thousand-legger things? Well, I found out that all 1,000 of their legs fall off when you kill them. Not fun cleaning up that.

Somewhere along the way, my feelings for bugs changed. Actually, my feelings for all living creatures changed. Maybe it’s because I met four-legged critters that I fell in love with. Maybe it’s because I read some of Albert Schweitzer’s writings about “reverence for life.”  Whatever the reason, nowadays I find myself stopping mid-shower to rescue a spider that’s about to go down the drain. Some days, one might look in my window and see me running around the house with a cup and a paper plate and be reminded of a pre-Annie Sullivan Helen Keller. In reality, I’m just trying to catch a bee so I can take it out and set it free. Some people think I’m weird. I don’t care. It’s just what I do, and I sleep better for it.

Despite my newfound love for 6-8 leggers, there is still one bug that I can’t stand. My disposition for this particular bug is full of “dis’s.” Disgust. Disdain. Disappointment. Is this particular bug a cockroach? No. Who wouldn’t love one of those cuddly little fellas? They even have a song about them! (La Cucaracha, La Cucaracha!) How about those pesky ants? Nope. What fun is a picnic without them and besides, I’ve seen “Ants” the movie so I know what REALLY goes on down there on the ground. My distaste is reserved for one bug and one bug only. It’s the common two-legged Litter Bug.

Perhaps my disfavor of Litter Bugs stems from the fact that I don’t understand them. After all, they are humans – of the homo sapiens species  – which I THOUGHT was supposed to be the smartest species on the planet. Now being a human myself, common sense tells me to NOT throw my empty Taco Bell sauce packet out the window onto the street, but to save it for a wastebasket which can be found at any gas station, grocery store, restaurant, or business. And guess what… it’s still FREE to throw trash in them.

The taco-sauce-packet-throwers are on the lower scale of Litter Bugs, in the same category of those who think the world is their ashtray and throw their cigarette butts, still lit, out their windows. Next in the line are the Bugs that dispose of cups, cans and beer bottles along the side of the road. And then there’s the Big Bugs – those that throw whole bags of trash along the side of the road – and the occasional mattress.

I learned long ago that there’s no real exterminator for the Litter Bug.  But there are methods to deter them. Take for instance, my neighbor, Bob, who owns several acres of farmland and woods. He discovered that someone was dumping bags of trash on his property. He “litter”-ally took matters into his own hands. He opened a bag, found a piece of mail with the “Bug’s” name on it (turns out Litter Bugs aren’t that smart.) He tracked down the Bugs and gave them until the end of the day to clean out their mess. They did. Go Bob!

Okay, so, I have another confession. In my much, much younger days, way before I could even drive, I was one of those who would crank down the window and throw my McDonald’s bag out the window. I did it because my parents did it. But then something changed. In 1977, a little fella named “Woodsy Owl” came on the scene. Whoever created Woodsy was brilliant. He campaigned toward kids, and as a result, whenever my parents started to throw something out the window, from the back seat I would screech Woodsy’s slogan, “Give a hoot! Don’t pollute!” I’m sure my parents were rolling their eyes, but either they got it or they were indulging me by saving their trash for a wastebasket.

Judging from the litter I see along the side of the road, even out here in the country, I think it’s time Woodsy made a comeback. The present day Litter Bugs apparently never got Woodsy’s memo – or maybe they did – and just wadded it up and tossed it out the window.

Help Woodsy spread the word.
Never be a dirty bird.
No matter where you go
You can let some people know

To give a hoot. Don’t pollute!
Never be a dirty bird.
In the city or in the woods,
Help keep American lookin’ good!

Click photo to watch Woodsy sing his song!! Thanks Woodsy!

We Need to Talk

I’m starting to become convinced that even though we have cell phones, computers, telephones, and various other tools for communicating, we actually communicated better 100 years ago. We communicate more now – but really, we communicate less. Doesn’t make sense, does it? But it does.

What I mean is that even though we communicate a millions times more a day than we used to, the messages that we send are often misunderstood, misconstrued or miscommunicated. That’s if you’re even lucky enough to GET a response. Along with more ways to communicate, there are also more opportunities to be ignored.

My theory is that communication issues can be grouped into two categories:

• A blatant case of rude and arrant ignorance
• A simple circumstance of misunderstanding.

Here’s a good example of rude and arrant ignorance. Bill is remodeling a house and he needed an electrician to “tag” the meter so IPL would turn on the power. He contacted a person that he has known/trusted for years to help him out. We’ll call him “Jimmy” – cuz that’s his name. Jimmy called him back and said he would do it. He ran into a small problem and needed to go downtown to IPL. The last time Bill heard from him, he said he would take care of it. That was on a Friday. Monday came around and Bill hadn’t heard anything but it was a holiday so he didn’t think anything of it. The next day he called Jimmy and sent a text. No response. Wednesday rolled around and no word after four calls and more texts.  Thursday passed. One week later, Bill still hadn’t heard anything. He started to worry that something had happened to his little buddy. He called a mutual friend and learned that, no, Jimmy was indeed fine – he had just installed a water heater for him the day before. I guess Jimmy just didn’t want to do it – but to this day (nearly ANOTHER week later) Bill still hasn’t heard from him. Rude. Arrant. Ignorance.

You know, it’s during those silent no-response moments that you start to feel like you’re in a “Twilight Zone” episode where you’re dead but don’t know it – perhaps better known as a “Sixth Sense” moment.  You make calls, you email, you text – and, do you hear that? That’s right. Silence. No special ring tones or soft-spoken automated ladies politely telling me, “You’ve got mail.” Either the requests are getting lost out there in cyber space with socks that get lost somewhere between the washer and dryer, or you’re being ignored. No single person is THAT busy to where they can’t shoot some kind of message back that might simply say, “I’m really busy right now, but will get with you later, okay?” That’s all we want sometimes. To know that we matter. To know that we’re not being waved off and sneered upon like a pot roast at a vegan dinner.

Okay, so on to the second category. Misunderstandings or miscommunications. We all love to text. In most cases, it really is easier just to shoot out a message that says, “On my way home” or “Pick up some bread.” There are those, however, that like to carry on full conversations via text. I’m not particularly one of those, but I understand that we live in an “advanced” society and it works better for some people. The problem with that is that sometimes texts don’t always tell the whole story. Figuratively and literally. A figurative example might be if I send a friend a text that says, “Can’t wait to get home and watch ‘Jersey Shore’.” Why is this a figurative example? Because the person on the other end only sees the message – they don’t see my eyes rolling and me making a gagging motion with my finger. In other words – sarcasm gets lost in texting.

Literally, a text can be misunderstood if the sender accidentally leaves out one small, but important word. For example, a few weeks ago a friend asked me if I was going to be home on a Sunday. I said yes, but would need to find out if we were going to church. Her text back said this: “Don’t go to church because I’m coming down. Mom wants to come with me, anyway.”

I found it a little out of character for her to be bossy, but thought maybe she just really wanted to see me. So I hung out at home on Sunday waiting to hear when she might be on her way. About noon, I sent her a text to ask her if she was coming. In short, the answer was “no.” Through another series of long text messages, I figured out that what her text SHOULD have said was. “Don’t NOT go to church because I’m coming down.” She MEANT to say that I shouldn’t skip church just because she was coming down and that she would come later anyway because her mom wanted to come and she couldn’t that day. She then promised to call in the future when making such arrangements. Good idea.

As a matter of fact, I’d like to propose a change in the way we communicate.  Unless it’s a one or two sentence short message, texting is okay. If it’s longer or if you are trying to EXPLAIN something, it’s time to pick up the phone. If it’s not urgent, send an e-mail or even a letter via snail mail. I actually got a handwritten “thank you” card in the mail a few weeks ago. It was refreshing. Not just because I knew the person genuinely was grateful, but because it was nice to get something in the mail that wasn’t a bill or flyer.

Thanks for reading – now I’m off to watch my favorite show – “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.” <insert eye roll> <insert gagging motion>

Eh – it’s just not the same.

Love, Peace, and Bacon Grease,

Shawn