Delivery Reviewed

The recent ventures to the Tummy Temple have been exhausting. A leftover from the steamy summer, what was an easy ride to pick up a few items and enjoy the fresh air is starting to become work. Blame it on the hills getting higher or the wind pushing back or checking the tires, but with age comes struggles to motion. The legs and arms still seem to work, but sucking in and breathing out oxygen is abnormal and can be a reason to stop and catch my wind. The stops are becoming more frequent and once home a sit down is required to eliminate the huffing and puffing. Maybe there is a doctor visit with a prescription for refurbished youth or a diagnosis of life ending disease or the ticker wearing out. Time marches on.

I’ve cut back on the weight I carry in my saddlebags, but the whole process is becoming a chore rather than a pleasure. I’ve already done the adventures of pushing a bike through the snow to bring home dinner or riding many a mile ending with my gathering in the temple for the air conditioning, talking to my peeps and refreshing hydration until walking outside to the blast of heat. I’ve ridden in the rain day and night and avoided potholes and lightning bolts. My ponies have been faithful, supplying me with dependability and durability over the years. Little maintenance they await for the next ride faithfully getting me from point A to point B and back again. 

So, I waste some time on social media looking for alternatives to provide substances from consumption to stay hydrated and fed. Many years ago, the kitchen was turned off and all meals were delivered. Pre-popped popcorn was delivered in giant tin cans. Double cheez pizza from Julian’s came in hot and greasy. Salads didn’t require any chopping and lots of sides of mozzarella sticks and sundry to keep our faces full while we watched movies on rented video tapes. 

There were still daily trips to the Tummy Temple to retrieve litter, pet food, feminine products and adult hydration. I do not miss the repeated trips of bungee cording the 10 lb. tubs of litter for the critters. There were still the weekend trips to PetSmart, Barnes and Noble, Lowes and Target with frequent stops at local dining establishments to refresh and regroup. If that didn’t satisfy, breakfast was picked up from Hardees, lunch was prepared at Stuffy’s and brought home and dinner was delivered. 

I paid by check (remember those) until one bounced and I had to find an office in a strip mall and pay off my bill with interest. After a while it became too expensive for someone else to prepare our food. 

I’ve tried most recipes for plates I thought I’d enjoy, but cooking for one leaves more leftovers than appetizing and there are too many dishes to wash. Now this is the conundrum. 

It seems, according to my research, groceries can be delivered to the door at similar prices to the Tummy Temple. My shopping list has shrunk and there are very few instances to squeeze the grapefruit or smell the fish. There are no familiar faces for aisle blockage conversations and the weather will be turning rude.

I’ve gotten used to ‘adding to my cart’ and having everything delivered from yard tools to personal undergarments. At this time in life, there is no desire to window shop for something I don’t need or will use. 

I also notice that alcoholic beverages can be chosen and delivered. I’ve noticed this on several sites and may try it soon. That would lighten my load if I do ride. There are also sites who promise they will deliver some herbal refreshment, not used for eons. Imagine getting whacky weed delivered with all the munchies available without leaving your underpants. I’ll give them a try and let you know the results. 

I’ve also delved into researching electric bikes. Perhaps a boost will make my travels easier? I don’t think this will produce wheelies, but some assistance getting up that hill may be worth the expense. The prices I’ve seen are not cheap, but next week I’ll go into my pedal professionals to get a new saddle for one pony and check out some questions and perhaps take a test ride. How much do they weigh? How do you recharge/replace the battery? Kickstand? Mirror? Lights? Rack? Lock? Water bottle? Trade Ins? 

At this time, I can still coast most of the way to the destinations avoiding hills and shift down when the inclines become a struggle, but I am thinking about the future.

Affordable

 

As the season is here when people are expected to spend more on food, fashion, travel, hotels, dining out, entertainment, toys, health care, gifts, adult beverages than expected; the price tags is being double checked. If you are a governmental worker who is not being paid, can you credit card afford it?

No matter how we pinch pennies (they are gone now) at the holiday season we splurge at the end of the year to make others happy with frivolous gifts and stroke our ego with philanthropy without caring of the budget until the next year. Does anyone save a Christmas Fund to prepare for our grand display of emotional gratitude?

Throughout the year the talking heads have been fussing about the administration’s fluctuating tariffs on everything from aluminum to soya beans and watching the prices rise at the Tummy Temple. Some manufacturers, distributors and retailers have tried to swallow the increase, but sooner or later the tariff or tax or fee will be passed onto the customer. I don’t keep the numbers, but from what I hear the milk from those burping/farting cows who are causing all the climate change is soaring with the price of their slaughter by 30%. No more 25¢ hamburgers.

Since I don’t drive, I don’t note the numbers at the pump, but from whatever price increase there is will affect everyone from delivery to family visits to pick up the shoes or groceries or that trip to take the kids to their soccer game practice. I hear on the news that our nation makes more oil and gas, so I’d assume the prices are going down? I can only guess that the price of automobiles has gone down (or to be purchased before the price hike with the steel tariffs, no matter where they are manufactured) for it seems everyone in the neighborhood bought a new car.

The pricing for housing seemed (for a while) to be reasonable and affordable. Back in college, my two-room apartment was $100 a month that was affordable for two college students to pay with part-time jobs. Now that you’ve picked you jaw up off the floor, that was in the late half of the last century. My house was in a neighborhood of middle-class single families with similar plots of land and reasonable prices. As the population grew, the sprawl of housing went into the counties and each new subdivision raised the prices. Commuting became a pain-in-the-arse and couples started moving back into town, but the decades old facades did not suite their new century lifestyle, so old houses were torn down and new ‘mega-monster mansions’ were constructed (with the additional cost of tariffed building materials and high wages for builders who show up or not due to deportation). The few of us old timers living in the shadows of these three-rise reconstructions (renovations) watch the property tax soar with the realtor law… “Location, location, location”. Is it affordable to continue to live in the same building that is still structurally sound and secure, even though selling it would increase the income by 10x (except from taxes), but would have to move somewhere else. Can’t afford to live here, but can’t afford to move.

I can’t relate to the cost of children, but I know they are expensive. Perhaps you have an income where procreating more than you and your partner replacement the joy of more little people is affordable. If not, if you have to find employment to earn a salary to pay for the shelter, transportation, clothing (our society frowns on nudity) and someone has to take care of the offspring while you are away at work. If family members volunteer to become a daycare center with home schooling, but these little tikes require so much attention and medical care and without a proper education, limited opportunity for a career and they will never move out. It all comes with a cost.

What’s ‘affordable’ to you may not be ‘affordable’ to me and what is ‘affordable’ to me at this time, may not be ‘affordable’ to me tomorrow. I was lucky enough to have a steady salary for years that somehow covered the cost of life for two people and a critter crewe and all the projects and adventures some of the time scraping by and other times juggling the dollars.

As the sun comes up, I have a firm grip on what is affordable. I don’t impulse shop unless there are dollars in the bank to pay for it. I’ve satisfied most of my dopamine desires so few items attract my attention or the want to add to my collection.

My celebration of the seasons will be slim-pickens. There will be no Christmas Hallmark card mailings (does anyone do that anymore?) or even send personal emails for most are now gone. There are no decorations of lighting or music or wrapping paper or tree. There will be a Thanksgiving meal-for-one but it will be limited to a slice of turkey w/ gravy on rice and cranberry sauce. No baked goods or leftovers. I’ve already got a slice of cake and some ice cream for a birthday meal. There will be the purchase of an apple pie to be delivered to the fire station on Christmas and an extra load of good treats for my critter crewe neighbors. Perhaps a bottle of pop for the end of the year? Perhaps a gift to myself but it has to fit in the budget that will hopefully reach the goal of $50k by the beginning of next year.

Affordability is all about the economy stupid.

This Ain’t No Joke…VOTE!

 

It should be a brief walk down the street to my elementary school to climb a few steps and walk into a decades old past. The tiled walls are the same. The tiny furniture is the same. The sound of footsteps on the floor brings back memories of lining up and walking down the hall to lunch like obedient children. 

Once passing through the platoon of bored national guard, then facial recognition by ICE and a quick patdown from RVA’s finest, I’m directed to the cafeteria to perform my civic duty. My ID passes the test of being a legal citizen. I'm verified to get a pen and a folder and a one-sided piece of paper with fill-in bubbles to select my preferences. Still surprised some uncontested names are on the ballot? I handed in my folder, name verification and pen and slid my ballot into the scanner. It is faster this year but don’t know why it sheds the results? I proudly slap on my ‘I voted’ sticker and walk down the old hallowed halls of my youth passing the portrait of Mary Munford and the fish tank Heather donated. I had a nice conversation with one of the greeters about the changes in the neighborhood from my time in this school when it was a small community of single family affordable houses to the mega-multi-million  monsters replacing them now.  Enjoying the sunshine and the cool fall day, I stroll down the sidewalk only to meet my backyard neighbor I’d not seen all summer. It is surprising how you don’t recognize someone outside their familiar surroundings. A brief chat and she goes into the process and I wander up the street. With no hurry and somewhat out of breath, I rocked on the porch enjoying the quiet and the fall leaves and my mission for today was done. 

A slow paced ride to the Tummy Temple to resupply for the week and make my way back to my routine at Puppywoods. The yard boss greets me ready for a lunch of blueberries. I post a picture of my acknowledged proof of voting on social media then wait for the numbers to be calculated and the results to be announced. If the numbers do not go the way of the commander in chief (I predict it won’t) he can rant and rave about the election being rigged or should be redone until the results please him.

Tomorrow I’ll awake to some other crisis or disaster but the day will be, as the weather people predict, PERFECT.

OH SNAP!

 

Remember when, during the last pandemic when we were told to shelter in place until the scientist could verify where the plague was coming from and figure out a vaccine given free from the government to prevent the suffering and dying? Like a snow alert, all the milk and eggs and bread were scoffed up and the shelves were bare. What was surprising was that ALL the toilet paper disappeared.

It seems those folks who stood on the soap box and touted they would lower taxes, reduce inflation, increase wages, insure security and getting rid of ‘those’ people were elected to represent our values and concerns and were sent to Washington D.C. to write the rules and laws that will provide us with their promises for six figure salaries and all the perks of the position. These are the folks you probably can’t name who wander the hallowed halls yapping to reporters blaming the ‘other side’ of defeating their dreams. These are the folks you see sitting in the back of a convertible in parades or using giant scissors to cut ribbons at grown breaking construction or provide extravagant dinners for those who will reciprocate donating to their reelection campaign. Seems these folks can’t get along recently so the yank vs the rebs or the reds vs the blues squabble like three-year-olds until they walk away and the government shuts down.

As if our elected officials don’t have enough holidays, they leave the Capitol to coast until we constituents tell them to get back to work and spend our taxes. Unfortunately, when the government ‘shuts-down’, not only do our congress folks go home but many governmental agencies close. Some departmental workers are told to go home and wait (without pay) until they are called back and hopefully receive back pay. Others are fired as a Doge excuse to reduce government waste.

When the government is shut-down, money doesn’t flow. A few ‘essential’ workers must attend and perform their duties (without pay) to keep planes flying, entitled benefit checks going out and a few are protecting cities by blowing boats up in South America.

While we wait, the five-year-old is tearing up the White House to make the ‘People’s House’ into the gilded ‘People’s Palace’ and we all watch astonished. Between being treated like a king overseas to his constant trips to Florida to play a multi-million dollar round of golf, he says fodder that only late night television can interpret.

I went to the Tummy Temple today and the parking area was packed, but there were no lines at the customer service desk. Being the first of the month there are usually long queues of large people carts full of soda pops and sweet treats, but they do not have their SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) debit cards, formerly known as Food Stamps (not to be confused with the S&K Green Stamps from previous days that were an incentive to attend a certain grocery and collected and saved until there were enough to get a toaster or mixer).

As this shut-down drags on, the administration and the justice system battle over humanity and budget while families start to look like Jamaican hurricane survivors or Gaza refugees scrounging for food scraps while waiting for aid.

The good in us will donate to community food banks and soup kitchens, but inflation, higher premiums for auto insurance, medical insurance, child care will limit our best intentions. When the shelves are bare, there are no other choices.

Halloween just ended. The tradition of children going house-to-house dressed in colorful costumes and begging for candy may become the new normal. Will you close the curtains and lock the door when a family comes by knocking hoping for a donation of a can of beans or wonton soup?

 

 

They Walk Amongst Us

 

Boot up and view these weirdo’s and whackos and hero’s and Patriots whose stories the news highlights to shock, intrigue, titillate us and wonder where did they come from.

As you bow you head in prayer at the house of whatever faith you subscribe to, take a peek around the congregation.

These are the same people you see at the Tummy Temple. They are the same folks who assemble every week in worship in hope of a better life or out of tradition. The faces look familiar but many of the names are vacant. They attend the same restaurants that you take you family to. They work in the same office building or job site that you do, but they are still strangers.

There’s Frank. Speak to him in Bible class but know nothing about him or his family. There is no familiarity of education, occupation or assimilation. A short conversation on the day’s events and a handshake are enough to get through another week without any other sharing of personal information.

I think her name is Nancy. She always sits in the same pew and always carries a white Bible. I’ve heard she is a nurse but know nothing more. Someone said she is a single mother?

Those four guys always sit together. They kid each other like a locker-room until the organ starts playing. When they do not attend, they are out in the woods dressed in camo with high fives at their slaughter killing animals while they innocently eat unaware of the firepower endangering them.

George lives in the neighborhood. He buys a new car every year. Have no idea what his occupation is, but he gets his lawn mower by a service every Tuesday. Seems like a regular guy but is carrying the weight of impregnating his neighbor’s daughter.

Sarah works the soup kitchen. Somebody has to feed the poor and she is rewarded with the feeling of doing good in this world. At night she is a pole dancer at the gentlemen’s club.

Timmy sings in the choir. He seems bored with the whole process, but it is requirement of following the adult instructions. He is a good student and participates in sports, but is more interested in dance. He’ll take his own life with his father’s gun.

Kelly has her own coffee shop. I buy a coffee and doughnut from her every morning. She hires girls who have had questionable upbringings. Her boyfriend picks her up in a Chevy Camaro muscle car with a confederate battle flag painted on the hood and playing Dixie on the horn.

Ronnie carries a gun. He has strict political opinions based on whatever he believes. Don’t mess with Ronnie.

Bonnie works at the local bakery. Always friendly to the customers while covered in white powder. She lives with her father who abuses her every night.

Tony works the frozen food section at the Tummy Temple. He is reserved but dedicated to his task. He has been missing after ICE came through.

Hillary is as pleasant as she can be. Obviously limited, she attends her formatted duties with questionable conversation response. She jogs in my neighborhood.

Mister Bondawill is on a walker. Retired from a profitable insurance agency, his only outing is to venture into the Tummy Temple on Sunday afternoons in hopes of seeing survivors to have a brief conversation over a grocery cart. He was knocked down in the parking lot by a driver on their phone.

Sally seemed outgoing and comfortable with everyone. Personable but not elite, she fit in every occasion. Attractive, but not beautiful she always had a fine-looking man on her arm. You can guess what happened to her.

Bobby was the school bully. Somewhere along the way he converted to being spiritual. He heads the Bible class and sometimes sings in the choir. He wears his mother’s underwear under his robes. He was shot in an alumni party.

These are the folks you see at the neighborhood diner. They attend the same plays and sporting events and festivals. Their kids go to the same schools and they remember the words to the songs learned in their teen years. They are accepted due to the cut of their jib and the car they drive. Other than that, they are still strangers. Fewer show up every year and there are no replacements.

While you scan the disasters of the day, you see a name that looks familiar. Is that?

They walk amongst us.

Work, without pay

 

With the current governmental shutdown, essential workers must still work without pay. Others are on furlough, a mandatory unpaid leave of absence yet still employed. A third group lay-offs or fired as a reduction-in-force are no longer on the payroll. There is talk of shuffling around other appropriations to pay the military.

The guys and gals who caused all this mess are still getting paid 6-figure salaries.

As I recall, work was to extend labor or product or service with the expectation of monetary compensation. Taking out the trash and cleaning your room maybe work for an allowance. Cutting the neighbor’s grass with a manual push mower may get you some sawbucks. Some find bartering equal rewards but doesn’t pay the rent.

When asked if I could produce some art for free because it is just drawing a picture, I’d say, “Then let your cousin do it.” When a club owner asked a band to play the weekend without taking any dollars out of the till, the exposure doesn’t pay the gas to travel, place to stay and food to eat.

Whether you feel your salary is equal to the amount of talent or effort you put in, how long can you go without? If you are an essential worker, how hard will you work without pay? How long will it take for a paycheck to show up after the shutdown is over? Will the grocer understand that you will gladly pay them next Tuesday for a hamburger today? Will your landlord be so empathetic to not have the funds to pay the property tax or water or electricity? The federal contractors who do everything from cleaning the bathrooms to providing ammunition to the armed services do when their department is shutdown? The coffee shop loses customers, the dry cleaner closes and no one is hiring.

What do tell the kids when there are no toys under the tree? Don’t need to string the lights when the power is cut off. There will be no traveling to grandma because you can’t afford the gas. Don’t expect a turkey on the table.

Back in the day, there were apprentices or interns who learned the trade without pay, before being qualified to be hired. Volunteers work for free for a variety of reasons, but somewhere, someone is the bread winner who pays the bills.

Sooner or later, the government will open up and turn on the lights and go back to doing bureaucratic stuff with whoever is left and the congress will appropriate more raises and the public will pay their taxes and all will be right with the world.

Until next time.

The Brotherhood of the White Beards

 

Yesterday, or so it seems, there was a gathering of gentlemen on an autumn day in the sunshine to converse as friends near and far. Some names are more familiar and some faces have changed but this congregation of white beards were civil due to laughter and adult beverages.

Some go back to the last century and others are links to occasional meetings. As these are all men beyond their prime, they speak of manly topics while dipping into the hummus.

As elderly do, we start with the topics that are not threatening or challenging. There are no competitions other than stand up and walk to the loo, but the sunshine kept them semi-warm in the forest.

Being manly men, they spoke of their latest purchases of mobile machines and FYI renovations for the next generations. Mild music waffled through the air of soft songs not requiring dancing. There was no talk of politics or religion or even grandchildren (though I find that rare with online comments and grandmothers). No comments were made about fashion, except for those who wore shorts on this chilly afternoon. There was no talk of previous or contemporary relationships. A few gaps were filled in with pointed questions but nothing demanding a confrontation.

All in all, it was a pleasant afternoon among geezers of the Brotherhood of the White Beards.

Now the season is here for the weather to force everyone into shelter and decorate and accommodate for immediate family and friends. Gifts are bestowed and celebrations are had through the dark holidays with good food and cheer by the warm fires of memories made or remembered.

The Brotherhood of White Beards may never recure without any record of it ever happening. The names of the attendees will go unmentioned. No property or person was harmed as I could tell. The accommodations and transportation were paid in full and there was very little waste for the proprietor.

The decorations will fill the neighborhood with light and celebration while I will creep back into the woods to awake the warmth of spring and coming of the dawn.