Got Milk?
Too little to late vs before its time…
The “Big 3″ auto makers, General Motors, Ford and Chrysler, are on Capitol Hill for a bailout during this economical downturn. The first time they appeared on Capitol Hill they chose to fly their private jets which did not sit well with the general public. CEOs using their private jets to ask congress is the equivalent of average Joe showing up at soup kitchen office wearing an Armani suit. It doesn’t make one want to whip out a checkbook.
This time the mighty CEO’s chose to give the illusion of being frugal by carpooling with their PR staff in their company’s hybrids. Learning from their previous mistake it appears they are trying to say “See, you can teach an old dog new tricks. Give us money we have learned our lesson.” The American public is not buying it. I am still ticked off about the $700,000,000,000.00 bailout for the banks. That is a hell of a lot of zeros! Sure the car guys are only asking for $34,000,000,000.00. That is still a hell of a lot of zeros. I am an atheist but still praying to the gods unknown that Congress sticks by the decision that was made two weeks ago.
The clamor of global warming, dependency on oil companies and fiscal responsibility is not new. However, the American automakers chose to continue with building SUV’s and offering little in the way of a more economical alternative. Honda and Toyota saw the light years ago and chose to take advantage of the changing tide. Now after years of producing monstrosities like the Excursion, Navigator, Aspen, Hummer, and Escalade, they actually have the nerve to beg for us to finance their mistakes.
We should be furious that with all the technological advances over the last 100 years the Ford Explorer gets the same mileage as the Henry Fords original Model T!
In spring of 2002 I saw an unusual car sitting in the parking lot where I worked. I did an Internet search and was intrigued by the cars and the concept cars of Corbin Motors in Hollister, California. Between 1999 and 2002 Corbin motors designed and built single-seat electric commuter cars that reached a top speed of 75 miles and had a range of 50 miles. They were designed looking like as a car, they were classified as a motorcycle. The Sparrow model was often referred to as the “jellybean” because of its body type sold for $13,900.
Corbin Motors was way ahead of its time. Unfortunately, they were only able to put 285 Sparrows on the road before they had to file for Chapter 7 in 2003. I wonder how far that little company had gone if they had their own bailout. I am still holding out hope that one day Corbin’s concept car Merlin may one day come to be.
Do I need a degree in advanced physics?
Yesterday I was talking to a co-worker about inconsistencies I see in the Bible. One has bothered me since my young days as a Sunday School student with perfect attendance. Maybe someone in cyberland or perhaps a brave minister might dare to provide me with an answer. If you can provide me a valid explanation a $20 Starbucks card is in it for you.
According to the Bible, Moses and Aaron talked to Pharaoh about letting the Jewish slaves free. To convince Pharaoh:
“The LORD said to Moses, “Tell Aaron, ‘Take your staff and stretch out your hand over the waters of Egypt—over the streams and canals, over the ponds and all the reservoirs’-and they will turn to blood. Blood will be everywhere in Egypt, even in the wooden buckets and stone jars.” (Genesis 7:19) When Pharaoh basically says “No way Jose.” Aaron takes his staff and every drop of water in Egypt turns to blood.
I am willing to give the benifit of the doubt on that. All the water in Egypt turns to blood. Cool plague. Where biblical creadibility gets dodgy is in verse 22 where Pharohs croonies preformed the same miracle. ”But the Egyptian magicians did the same things by their secret arts…”
Now if in the first verse it tells us that alll the water in the land, even that in containers turned to blood, where did the Egyptians get their water to preform their miracle? I doubt that Alhambra delivered.
So, is it worth a Starbucks gift card to help shed some light on this, um, ‘miracle’ for me?
The Big Brown Eyes That Stole My Heart
Anyone who knows me has no doubt that I love my dogs. Perhaps they would say it borders mentally unsound. I enjoy spending time with my dogs, taking them to the park, watching them sleep. They have my heart. As you may have read in a previous post Roxie and Rizzo were rescued from Taiwan. They have no idea how spoiled they are.
Last night I had trouble falling asleep. After tossing and turning until way past 2am I started hitchiking on the information highway. Something drew me to Petfinder.com, the website where I found my two beasts many moons ago. I did a quick query and there staring back at me was a face that was too cute to ignore. I am grateful my rental agreement limits the number of pets or I just might have adopted Popeye immediately.
Popeye is a Basenji/Shepherd mix. When he was a pup, he and his mother lived near a busy street. As his mother went to look for food Popeye wandered away and was hit by a motorcycle. A couple of women found him and sought out medical assistance. Unfortunately, Popeye remains paralyzed in the back half of his body. Without any control of bladder/bowels and difficulty walking I imagine finding someone to adopt him has been difficult. I clicked on video and saw how this little guy gets around. I knew I had to try to help him.
No, Popeye is not on his way to join my household. I tossed out a couple of e-mails to find out about canine wheelchairs. I figured if this little guy could get around with greater ease somebody might adopt him. One company, immediately responded and has offered Popeye a cart an an discounted price. I have no idea why I am compelled, but I know it is just something I must do.
Judy, from Walk In The Bark in San Francisco, is working with an orthopedic surgeon to get another opinion about his legs. If his next vet visit shows his growth plates have closed they can begin measuring him for his new cart. Hopefully in a couple of weeks Popeye will be more mobile.
Cross your fingers that Popeye will find a home soon.
Things I learned this Thanksgiving weekend…
1. My dogs hate the grunting noises the actors make in the “Planet of the Apes” movies.
2. I can pack in 14 hours of sleep with zero guilt.
3. Turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing are great breakfast foods.
4. The pajama shorts purchased the summer of 1986 are still part of my “active” wardrobe.
5. Fresh artichokes do eventually go bad.
6. I still laugh at episodes of Mork and Mindy.
7. People are willing to kill over a discounted television.
Merry Freakin’ Christmas….
A number of years ago I was diagnosed with acute depression. Take it from me, there is nothing cute about it. Every winter I go through what I affectionately have labeled a purple funk.
I dread the holidays. Perhaps its because I have few memories of good holidays. Family meals in general were typically eat as fast as you can then retreat to the safety of your bedroom. Growing up in a house where my siblings and I were constantly on survival mode spending any time as a family was always tense. The emotional climate could change without a moments notice but if one was fast enough you just might be able to outrun the storm we called “Dad”.
As I see people around me hustle to shop, travel, cook, send gifts I try to relate. Over the years I have been graciously been invited to the homes of friends for the holidays. Yet, at each dinner or party I feel like a milk bucket under a bull. There is a bond there I just can’t relate to.
As adults my siblings and I are not a close family, physically or emotionally. My brother lives 1209 miles away – we last spoke just under two years ago. My oldest sister lives 2751 miles away – we last spoke over a year ago. I have one sibling that I speak to about once a week but she lives 2101 miles away. Unfortunatly, the last time she came to visit was over a decade ago. They each have a spouse and two kids. They have their own families.
I have a handful of great friends that feel like family. I would take a bullet for them. Yet, I find myself longing for someone to come home to. Someone to do laundry with. Someone to call from work and ask if there is something from the grocery store I should pick up on my way home. Someone to hold my hand when I feel crappy like tonight. Basically all those mundane things I see family doing in movies and television. I am forty years old and tired of feeling alone.
Tomorrow I will wake up, inhale, and tackle another day. January 2nd can not come soon enough.
Out of Focus
