There must be something in the air?

As I travel my normal route, people are smiling at me. They wave and say, “Hello”.

What is going on?

Sure I go this way everyday and some of them have probably seen me before but they are still strangers.

As I was locking up some woman came up to me and started a conversation telling me her life story. Even the bell ringer struck up a talk and smile.

Did I wear my hair a different way? Did I put on some smelly stuff that caught everyone’s attention?

Checking out everyone seemed in a good mood and very friendly.

What was going on?

Then I remembered it is December.

I’m walking around in a red sweatshirt with long white hair and a fluffy white beard and a big fat belly and act rather jolly.

So beware. I’m keeping an eye on you.

Drink Responsibly

Think about that statement.

Drink (which indicates alcoholic liquids) Responsibly (in a sensible or trustworthy manner).

Repeat.

Any of you teetotalers can bypass the rest of this rambling or pop open a bottle and follow along.

If you didn’t realize (or from another planet) we are constantly bombarded by persuasion to consume the vile concoctions of grape and grain.

While one faction abhors the use of alcohol, the other side says, “Let’s Par-tay!”

Stumbling from corner to corner, the foul liquid is available in every size and strength. Everyday there is a new brew to temp the thirst.

A hangover is your reward for over-consumption, but we all make jokes about it. Just another life’s lesson we didn’t learn.

Then the PSA announcements scorn those who will indulge and warnings of police stops checking for DUI violations don’t deter local drunkard from staggering to the car and endangering all the rest of us.

I drink from the forbidden fruit. I know my limit. I know beyond my limit. Still I continue as long as the availability and access and price is right.

So I wish you good luck through the holidays and hope you get home alive.

Not his first wife

With the season of gathering with family not seen in awhile, it is introducing you to older people that look somewhat familiar, unknown offspring and not his first wife.

Like every seasonal gathering, the first goal is to find the punch bowl. All the treats and plates of homemade goodies are tempting, but it is the time of year to get loopy.

Put on your best duds wrinkled under all the sweaters, scarves and puffy coats but it won’t matter after you raise a glass or two to cheer the season with strangers.

When you start to hit on some young blonde chick wearing a tight red dress over by the cookies, she smiles then goes back over to old Uncle Henry.

No one wears a name badge or any other identification at family unions. Everyone is to guess.

Not saying only these guys is approved by society (and perhaps family) to dump the old broad and pick-up some younger version. Everyone recognize the age difference with the new trophy wife and would gossip the connection.

Let us not forget the cougars. If dumped and yet have enough to attract the pool boy, keep the chatter going around the table.

Pass another glass.

The orange things in your soup

Now I’m sure all that read this are culinary experts in the kitchen gathering and slicing and dicing produce to place in a large metal container with secret ingredients and spices to slow cook to perfection, but I’m not one of them.

I buy the soup cans off the shelf.

Someone somewhere must have done the process and then poured the mixture in a can, slapped a label on it, and placed it on a shelf giving me the opportunity to take home, warm up and consume as food.

Most of it seems fairly familiar to mom’s cooking but some parts just don’t make sense.

The chicken noodle soup seems to taste like chicken broth (let’s not go there) and the noodles are sort of pasta tasting but the chunks of stuff that is suppose to be ‘chicken’ could be tofu.

Being the season of considering making a homemade stew or chili or some concoction on the stove I think about ingredients.

The only cookbook I have left is “The Joy of Cooking” circa 1783 with recipes using lard and road kill. Butter was probably churned and don’t want to think about where milk came from.

So I slice the top off a tin can with a label declaring ‘soup’ and pour the contents into a ceramic cup, punch in 5 minutes on the microwave and wait for the bell.

It looks like soup. It smells like soup.

A quick stir and the warm meal fill me up for another day.

Yet, I wonder about the ingredients I’m chugging down my gullet.

I don’t check the side of the can for calories or sodium but wonder what is chicken broth, cooked white chicken meat, carrots, egg noodles (semolina wheat, wheat flour, egg*), celery. contains less than 2% of: modified food starch, corn protein (hydrolyzed), water, chicken fat, salt, potassium chloride, egg white*, carrot puree, onion powder, sugar, soy protein isolate, sodium phosphate, tomato extract, garlic powder, parsley*, chives*, maltodextrin, spice, natural flavor, beta carotene (color), flavoring. *dried contains egg, soy and wheat ingredients.

My question is about these orange things floating in the broth. They are supposed to look like carrots but they are not hard like the little carrots I eat with ranch dip. These taste more like mush.

Occasionally a piece of green thing looks like a celery but the white chunks are not potatoes but they are filling.

Still these orange chunks fascinate me. Are they supposed to make me believe I’m eating healthy? Are they rabbit food that didn’t make the salad bar?

Cyber-Shopping

Are you eyes red and fingers blistered from surfing for that perfect deal online?

For the next few weeks there will be links and offers no one can resist. How about some plaid golf knickers? No? How about golf club covers in the shape of animal heads? Your wife needs a mop. Throw in a broom and you will be a hero for Christmas day. You can hide it in the closet because no one looks in there.

The little ones want whatever is popular that day, but you’ll fill their stockings with socks, a new toothbrush, and some deodorant. It is OK because the fascination in the gifting is tearing open the paper to find a treasure. Don’t worry for they are too busy downloading games on your credit card.

Now not a big shopper (anymore) for I think I have more than enough, I want to get into the spirit. To wander to some giant hall of merchandise with frantic folks grabbing gigantic TV screens and Bluetooth speakers to go with the 100-roll pack of t-paper and some ugly dishtowels for Aunt Beth is not my dream of how to spend time. I get my adventure at the Tummy Temple and leave quickly.

Since I hadn’t expensed anything recently, I decided to buy a birthday present for myself. No guitars this year but I get online to search for some CDs. The local ‘record’ store has bins full of music to fascinate hours of detective activity trying to find that perfect gift, but usually they don’t have my unique taste.

Amazon welcomed me as a Prime Member and I went directly to what I was looking for. The prices seemed pretty high but I bought the vinyl in the last century. They even remembered my credit card number and with a few clicks, I was getting emails of estimated delivery time. Wasn’t that easy?

Having succeeded in this attempt to please myself with consumption, I remembered I never found that lawnmower. Open the second bottle of wine and dive into the adventure.

 I log on with my secret password and search “Lawn Mower”. My options are riding or gas or battery or corded and problem some I missed. Click the box and up comes the selections with descriptions and prices. Being a wish shopper I compared the features and reviews and settled on one at the right price.

Where was my ‘Add To Cart’?

Then the little window appeared in the bottom corner (like the Microsoft paperclip) and asked if I need help.

I typed the item number and asked, “How do I add this to my cart?” (Remember there is no real wire cart, just a metaphor). The person on the other end of the line was trying to be most helpful, but had to pass me on to a supervisor.

I again explained my problem and after a few minutes it seems this particular product was unavailable in my area.

I understand buying a lawnmower in the winter is like buying a snow blower in the summer.

I thanked whatever was on the other end of the line and shut down wondering why they would post something on their website that was not available (but that is another story).

The next morning I went back (if nothing else I’m persistent) and searched some of the other lawnmowers. They ALL had ‘Add To Cart’ buttons except the one I had originally chosen. Perhaps this was a communist plot? Was this a conspiracy to keep me from once a year trimming some weeds that the string trimmer didn’t get? Perhaps there was a sanction that particular model?

After this, I’ll go back, log in, and select a model of comparable price and features and ‘Add To Cart’.

Ha! There you go cyber-shopping.

Now it will just be waiting for emails and phone calls announcing approximate time-of-arrival with delays for weather and road conditions and possible wreckage with all the other delivery trucks. Free delivery is like waiting for Santa Clause. Should I put out cookies and milk?

When everything arrives and is unpacked and the mounds of cardboard stuffed into the recycle bin and the assembly instructions studied for the big exam hoping that little plastic bag of parts doesn’t have a hole in it.

By then snow will be on the ground and I’ll just pack it up in the corner waiting spring and forget where it is.

This has nothing to do with cyber-shopping but I noticed and have spoken of Christmas stocking stuffers. One of those presents is a male beard trimmer. There have been a multitude of brands filling my medicine cabinet through the years. All were well-intentioned gifts, but rarely used. The last torture machine that keep running out of juice in the middle of a shave was tossed. There will still one hand held grinder that seemed to work well, but I couldn’t find all those weird attachments to make people think you hadn’t shaved when you had just shaved to look like you hadn’t shaved.

Since this is the time of year that if I let the facial hair grow I get mistaken for St. Nick with girls wanting to sit on my lap. Little kids become enamored before the 25^th day of the month. Hoo Hoo Hoo!

Not finding all the shaving attachments for the ‘last’ razor, I picked up one that looked exactly like the one I have at home and dropped it in my cart.

Trying to be organized, I try to keep things in their proper place. All the spoons together, all the pencils lined up in the same direction and all the shaving utensils in a special drawer. Now was the time to clean out the ‘shaving drawer’.

All sorts of weird attachments to some unknown prehistoric device were found and since they didn’t fit, were put to rest.

Through the ages I’ve had every sort of devised instruments of pain to clip or pull hair from my face. Straight razors, single blade razors, multiple blade razors, rotary razors were all part of my bathroom routine. If the gouging wasn’t enough, there were tonics to splash on your injured skin to raise the ire of the banshee. Photos don’t give a good representation of the results.

Always felt for the ladies shaving their armpits and their legs and that upper lip thing and whatever the caterpillar that grows between the eyebrows.

Using the hedge trimmer, jackhammer, and circular saw, the thick plastic container to my NEW electric beard trimmer was opened. All the attachments were separated and the power cord and instruction put into a little black bag that came with it. So organized.

Then I thought about a similar black bag in another room.

Yes, it was the same items in the same black bag but not in the organized shaving items drawer.

   So now I have two-duplicate razors. I guess I could use one in each hand, but will be content that I have a backup.

Hope next year I don’t buy another one.

L.L.C.

Riding around the neighborhood I noticed something new on all the white trucks parked in front of all the house doing everything from plumbing installation to air conditioning repair to tree trimming or lawn maintenance, there is this L.L.C. attached to the name now.

What does L.L.C. mean?

A limited liability company (LLC) is a corporate structure in the United States whereby the owners are not personally liable for the company’s debts or liabilities. Limited liability companies are hybrid entities that combine the characteristics of a corporation with those of a partnership or sole proprietorship.

So when did this become a trend? It makes sense that an entrepreneur who begs investors through kickstart a company only for it to fail should not personally become bankrupt.

A limited liability company (LLC) is the US-specific form of a private limited company. It is a business structure that can combine the pass-through taxation of a partnership or sole proprietorship with the limited liability of a corporation. An LLC is not a corporation under state law; it is a legal form of a company that provides limited liability to its owners in many jurisdictions. LLCs are well known for the flexibility that they provide to business owners; depending on the situation, an LLC may elect to use corporate tax rules instead of being treated as a partnership, and, under certain circumstances, LLCs may be organized as not-for-profit. In certain U.S. states, businesses that provide professional services requiring a state professional license, such as legal or medical services, may not be allowed to form an LLC but may be required to form a similar entity called a Professional Limited Liability Company (PLLC).

A limited liability company (LLC) is a hybrid legal entity having certain characteristics of both a corporation and a partnership or sole proprietorship (depending on how many owners there are). An LLC is a type of unincorporated association distinct from a corporation. The primary characteristic an LLC shares with a corporation is limited liability, and the primary characteristic it shares with a partnership is the availability of pass-through income taxation. As a business entity, a LLC is often more flexible than a corporation and may be well suited for companies with a single owner.

Although LLCs and corporations both possess some analogous features, the basic terminology commonly associated with each type of legal entity, at least within the United States, is sometimes different. When an LLC is formed, it is said to be “organized,” not “incorporated” or “chartered,” and its founding document is likewise known as its "articles of organization," instead of its “articles of incorporation” or its “corporate charter.” Internal operations of an LLC are further governed by its “operating agreement,” rather than its “bylaws.” The owner of beneficial rights in an LLC is known as a “member,” rather than a “shareholder.” Additionally, ownership in an LLC is represented by a “membership interest” or an “LLC interest” (sometimes measured in “membership units” or just “units” and at other times simply stated only as percentages), rather than represented by “shares of stock” or just “shares” (with ownership measured by the number of shares held by each shareholder). Similarly, when issued in physical rather than electronic form, a document evidencing ownership rights in an LLC is called a “membership certificate” rather than a “stock certificate”.

In the absence of express statutory guidance, most American courts have held that LLC members are subject to the same common law alter ego piercing theories as corporate shareholders. However, it is more difficult to pierce the LLC veil because LLCs do not have many formalities to maintain. As long as the LLC and the members do not commingle funds, it is difficult to pierce the LLC veil. Membership interests in LLCs and partnership interests are also afforded a significant level of protection through the charging order mechanism. The charging order limits the creditor of a debtor-partner or a debtor-member to the debtor’s share of distributions, without conferring on the creditor any voting or management rights.

Limited liability company members may, in certain circumstances, also incur a personal liability in cases where distributions to members render the LLC insolvent.

OK, take a moment and lets think about this.

 So your neighbor (for this example we’ll call him ‘Bubba’) works on his car in the front yard every Saturday. He seems to be fairly good at it and has even offered some tips for your car.

Now Bubba wants to start a business working on other people’s cars for money. The American Dream comes true.

Bubba does all the right things, getting licenses and permits and sets up shop and even hires an assistant. He puts an ad in the local newspaper and people start rolling in. Bubba seems to be doing well.

Then one day a customer drives back complaining about his thing-a-ma-bob ain’t working and Bubba needs to fix it, at no charge.

Well Bubba did work on the car and did cash the payment for the repair but how was he liable? What happened to this car when it drove off the lot? Did the customer or one of his friends decide to ‘tinker’ with the engine until it decided not to work anymore? Did Bubba miss something? Were the parts he ordered not of the quality guaranteed?

What is Bubba to do?

Fix the who-ga-mo-bob-its at no charge? Should he offer up another bill to an irate customer?

If the customer isn’t happy, word of mouth (which means Yelp! And every other social media) will be bombarded with perceived Bubba’s incompetence. Or the customer could hire a lawyer stating Bubba was liable for his motor machine inconsistencies after the aforementioned repair job.

In the meantime, Bubba’s reputation could be tarnished to the point where he is losing customers, laying off staff, and finally putting the business on the block. So long to Bubba’s big dream…but wait.

The lawyers are not satisfied. They go after Bubba’s personal assets.

So this L.L.C. seems to be a posting like ‘No Trespassing’ or ‘Post No Bills’ so the contractor or builder or plumber might survive a loose fitting or a misnomer in instructions that may become unknowing disastrous results.

At some point an agreement was a handshake and paid when the job was complete. If the customer wasn’t completely satisfied, all items were set right before payment.

Then a check was cut to cover the cost of labor, time and materials as agreed upon estimate.

Was that personal check good?

The idea of handing over a pile of cash is so old school, but are we ready to hand over our phones to a stranger who just unplugged our toilet?

Will the nail bind the boards? Will the bullet shoot straight? Will the cupboard doors that were manufactured on the other side of the world and shipped over the ocean in metal boxes splashed about with seawater then unloaded and driven across miles to be unloaded yet again to a loading dock’s warehouse to suffer moisture and abuse only to be delivered to your house and applied to the wall with tin metal screws from recycled materials by illegal immigrant workers earning less than minimum wage?

Who is liable?

Scale

It is one of those days. Rainy and gloomy. One sock in the living room and one in the bedroom. The sweatshirt that took fifteen minutes to pull off never left the bed. A couple cups of coffee and the half finished beer might get the body moving before night comes again.

Then put on the stretch pants.

Two days after Thanksgiving and unless there has to be another notch in the belt buckle, it is always the stretch pants.

With all the layers and comforters sitting next to the fire, no one is thinking about that bathing suit packed away that will never fit again. Was Thanksgiving developed so you have to buy new summer wear? Like hanging onto that surfboard, you’ll never ride it again.

Go stand on the scale. You’ve got one somewhere. Maybe it is under the bed or under the pile of dirty clothing dumped in the closet? Dust it off and stand on it. What do you see?

If you look down and don’t see your feet, you’ll have to be creative. If you step off to bend over to view the little window, you’ll be 50% off. If you use a mirror the numbers will be upside down and backwards.

That is because you set the “O” mark to -100. It won’t make you grow taller or put more hair on your head.

I’ve got two scales. Why? One foot on one and one foot on the other? Then add the numbers and that is your weight?

One has a mop sitting on it the other one sits on a shelf. A scale is like exercise equipment or a gym membership. You know if you use it you will feel and look better, but you never do.

Suppose you step on the scale after all that Turkey, stuffing, potatoes and pies and figure you can lose those extra pounds. Maybe taking a daily walk with your neighbor with her dogs or hide the remote so you have to struggle out of your beanbag couch and walk across the room to change the channel?

Then what are you going to do with all your ‘fat’ clothes?

Stay away from this devil machine. You should know by now that sitting down to tie your shoes or huffing and puffing to pick up the newspaper, you are not fit. The scale just gives you a score and the higher numbers are not better.

Just finished a pizza and my eyelids are falling. I’ve gotten too big for my britches. Move over sweatshirt.