Air conditioning, revisited

I have a new theory on how globalization affects the United States. You can think of the world as a giant house in summer where the owner can only afford to air condition one room. The rest of the house is hot, humid, and full of mold except for the one room that has an air conditioner. The room with the air conditioner is the developed world. The United States, Canada, western Europe, Australia are relatively comfortable and (until recently) prosperous.
If you open the doors of that room you have the world economy under globalization. The outer reaches of the house get a slight increase in comfort. Most noticeable, however is the one room that had air conditioning. It's conditions deteriorate rapidly.

It's the theory of supply and demand. When there is a limited resource, (water, energy,  air conditioned cool air, diplomas, doctors, teachers, nurses) limiting those people who have access to these resources to the few is better for the few. When college degrees were scarce, people who had such things had a leg up in the job market. After the sixties, when practically everyone had one of those things, they became less valuable. Hence people like me selling hot dogs with a BA degree. Free college for all will only devalue further the degrees for people who already have them. 

The same can be said for doctors and nurses. With health access for all, the doctor's offices will be crammed with people and it will be harder for the people who have health insurance today to get appointments. With an onslaught of immigrants, housing will get even scarcer and teachers will have dozens of new students and they will need to be taught English. This will not benefit the kids who are in these schools now as they will have to compete in more crowded classrooms. Unfortunately, in most places, local taxpayers are not going to want to see their property taxes raised to accommodate other people's children. 

These facts could hurt our Democratic candidates in a general election. One thing I miss about work is now I have to pay for my own air conditioning. 

Editor's note: Expanded from a blog written a few years ago. 

The changing meaning of drop

Recently I've noted that the word "drop" seems to have acquired a new meaning. A meaning at odds with its old meaning. Old:
I dropped a book. Meaning the book fell from my hands and landed on the floor. Old: The publisher dropped his book. Meaning the publisher is removing the book from its catalog, usually because of poor sales. New: I dropped my book today. Meaning I have released my book to an unsuspecting public. The publisher is dropping the new book. Meaning the publisher is adding the book to its catalog.

Confusing. Still, I dropped acid, she dropped her boyfriend, drop a dime (giving information to the police) is still in current use.

Editor's note: The long out of print paperback "To Drop a dime" is the classic book on organized crime in New Jersey.

Oh what should I do with my supermarket cart

There is an etiquette to supermarket carts. Certainly if you shop at one of those European stores that use the quarter in the slot procedure, you retrieve your cart with your quarter and return it to the line of carts to get your quarter back. Nobody wants to give a quarter to the supermarket. Even a lawyer who gets a thousand dollars for billable hours will march the cart back to the store to get his quarter.

I usually go to the more laissez faire suburban supermarkets where the customer has discretion as to where he deposits his cart. Here there is a choice of being super nice and marching the cart to the front of the store and add it to the line of carts already there. Another option, when where there is a corral for supermarket carts in the parking lot, is to add the cart to this group. I like to stand five feet away and propel my cart into the group, creating some excitement for my day.

When it is convenient, or I have time on my hands, or perhaps am looking for some exercise, I will be a nice guy and return them to the proper places. But sometimes I am lazy, or I am late for something, or it is raining. Then I face the moral dilemma of how to handle the now empty cart.

The morally repugnant thing would be to deposit it in the driving lane. However, if there are lots of empty spaces I might deposit the cart in a parking space, ideally a space empty of cars but that already has a cart or two. In effect I am not ruining a parking space but am using a parking space that is already ruined.

Of course there is the old lift half of the cart on the grass and leave the other half of the cart in the front end of a space maneuver. The space is still usable, although now it is perhaps not an ideal parking choice. This is a morally ambiguous choice, similar perhaps to that of a devout Catholic who votes for a pro abortion candidate. It will not extend one's time in purgatory, but may result in being placed in a harder chair.

Editor's note: Those marked off queuing areas where you can put your cart at the entrance of the parking lot is called a cart corral. I learned that today with the help of Google.

Thoughts on Mad Men

Thanks to Netflix, I have finally watched all of the episodes of Mad Men. I didn't start watching the original show until around the fifth season, and by the that time it was in it's second and less illustrious path. It's a great show, part historic documentary of the advertising agency in its classic period, part social history, and part telenovela.

Here are some random thoughts on Mad Men.

1) It must be great working in an office with that much booze. Instead of coffee breaks the workers apparently got Scotch breaks.
2) Women are there for the pleasure of the men. They get coffee, handle personal errands and are there for erotic purposes when the need arises. A happier time.
3) It could be  a stressful. A random decision from a client could kill one's career.
4) Thanks to the poetry of Don Draper pitching a campaign, the American dream of prosperity through buying things almost looks like a noble cause.
5)Those long hairs and beards ruined a good thing.
6) Women slowly learned to get what was theirs, and not just by the capricious decisions of men.
7) Whenever a new company tries to buy the firm, the staff realizes that "better the devil you know" is a prudent policy.
8) The show is primarily a workplace show and wives, girlfriends, and children are distractions in search of the perfect ad campaign.
9)The most important relationship in the show is between Don and Peggy, who both knew that work and advertising was the heartbeat of life.
10) Robert Morse was always a treat in the show. Makes you want to view the movie "How to Succeed in Business without really trying". Loved when he sang a song after he died. Loved the way he made everyone take off their shoes before entering his office. Now that was power. Still he was a better boss than anyone else. "Better the devil you know".
11) High class restaurants in New York were boring.

Editor's note: The one bad thing about viewing the show on Netflix instead of the original tv series is you miss the commercials. Commercials on Mad Men were like the ones on the Superbowl. The ad agencies used it to show off their best stuff.
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D Day

I think it's time to retire D Day. The day will always be there but now that we have reached the 75th I think it's time to retire the ritual of world leaders, who don't really like each other, to have to pose together in France for a picture. Sometimes I think they do it to embarrass we Americans who had the temerity to select such a silly person as president.

the kids on Better Things

I love Better Things. I watch it religiously when it's on and often watch the instant rerun that follows it to catch the nuances that I may have missed the first time around. I have often said that most of my experiences of family life comes from watching television situation comedies. In turn, most of what I know about raising daughters comes from watching Better Things.

Lately there has been some negative buzz about the show. It revolves around the behavior of the older girls. Do all American teenagers act like Max and Frankie? Granted, most middle class American girls are privileged, demanding, and view their parents as walking credit cards.  Such is life. Still, I predict that, although annoying as youth, they will succeed in the game of life.
My predictions for the girls:

Max is pretty and knows how to manipulate people to get money. She will do fine in life, she'll end up getting occasional roles and will  couch surf from upscale Hollywood apartments to mansions in the Valley with various male directors and producers.

Frankie will end up becoming a doctor. I suspect she is good at math. She has the personality of someone who is good at math. She will get a good job in a hospital but will not be known for her bedside manner.

Duke will get married and live in the suburbs of LA. She will be the one to cajole her sisters into visiting Mom for Mother's Day. She will be the only one of the girls to visit Grandma in the nursing home. When Grandma dies the two older sisters will turn up, demanding their share.

Taking the senior bus to Atlantic City

The mandatory activity for the retiree in New Jersey is the experience of taking the senior bus to Atlantic City. Like the trip to Florida during spring break for college students, all seniors are required, by law, to do this pilgrimage at least once a year.

Apparently you have to buy the tickets in advance and on the big day show up at 8:30 at the local senior center ready for bear and the expectation of a rewarding and lucrative day in Atlantic City.

Today the big day is here. Looks like it is going to be cool and damp, no sunshine. Oh well. Got on the bus. No problem. Nice ride. Always fun to see the windmills of old Atlantic City. Back in the day you were greeted at the casino with a roll of quarters. Now it's high tech. Fortunately I was able to find an old Resorts card and it was able to take in the credit for twenty five dollars.

Resorts is nice. Cozy, a little old fashioned, I was reminded how, as a tot, I vacationed with my parents there when it was the old Chalfonte Haddon Hall. There were no televisions in the rooms. You had to go to one of the television parlors, each named for a network. In the NBC room I sang along with my parents and other guests to Sing-a-Long with Mitch.

I digress. My partner and I went to the slots machines. I played on the bus money. Every once in a while there would be fireworks and the machine would explode in sounds as it went into the bonus round. After all the excitement I realized I had won a few dollars.

Walked over to the Hard Rock Cafe. Very modern decor, had an overpriced burger. Slots again. Lost money. Had a free drink from the roving waitress. Yes I know you are supposed to tip them.

Finally we went home, a little lighter in net worth, if not in pounds.
Okay, no big deal. Last time I took the bus to AC we got donuts in the morning, bingo during the ride, and a movie on the way home. Oh well, I'll always have my memories of bus rides past.

Happy Mothers Day

Just got back from lovely Singapore. Hot and humid but fun. Especially liked the hawker centers for food. Being lazy I can't think of anything new to say for Mother's Day but here are two old favorites.

Editor's note: Selling like hotcakes but now available for the low price of $2.99 my book.

John Bercow

https://twitter.com/tagesschau/status/1085610253922828289

Those of us in America, when bored with our own political crises, like to turn to our friends in Britain and watch  theirs. Quickly becoming an American celebrity and symbol of jolly olde England is the Speaker of the House of Commons, John Bercow.

Watching the Brexit news on Youtube, I have become fascinated with the wit and calls to order of Mr. Bercow. Apparently a Conservative, he likes scolding members of Parliament of all persuasions when they are getting too noisy. I'd like to see a debate between him and Nancy Pelosi. I'd also like to know where he gets his haircuts.

Side hustles

When I was in college I was friends with a young woman who had side hustles. When she came to college two weeks late she explained that she was hustling up her tuition. "A hustle here, a hustle there and now I have tuition". Later I figured out that selling my radio was one of her side hustles.

One of the classic side hustles is selling stuff on e bay. People do make money doing it if they have the time and inherited neat stuff. Other side hustles involve selling birthday cakes to the neighbors, helping your brother with his contracting business on weekends, or for those with literary aspirations, writing a Kindle book.

Alexandria Octavio-Cortez has stated that side hustles move up the unemployment rate, but that is factually inaccurate. Having a side hustle does, however, give you a varied and potentially lucrative second life. Side hustles are also useful if you want to get out of things. "I'm sorry I can't teach Sunday school but I  reserve Sundays for my side hustle."

Cell phones have replaced cigarettes

Back in the day, idle moments at the bar, when you didn't care for the hockey game on the television, could be filled by lighting up a cigarette. Awkward moments, waiting for the train, waiting to be called by the doctor, on long elevator rides, were filled by smoking.

Today you can't smoke at any of these places. Luckily, the cell phone has come along. It occupies your hands, let's you avoid staring into space or at the other idlers, and makes it looks like you have a life.

"See, that man must be texting his girlfriend" people will think.

"He must have important business to attend to at work. Perhaps that is his agent who wants revisions on his novel", people will think.

Little do they know that you have no new mail, and are looking at a cat video on Facebook. Modern times.

These modern technologies

In days of old when knights were bold and HDMI weren't invented
You could plug the RCA plug into the tv and connect it to your amplifier and lousy tv speaker sound prevented...
I thought I would do that when I got my Samsung smart tv but I found out that was not possible. My amplifier, bought in the early aughts had no usb not to even think of HDMI jacks. It was analog, going back to a day when toilets apparently weren't invented.

Everybody said that's easy. You have to buy a digital sound bar. That's true, but I they're expensive! I guess I inherited my cheapness genes. The past year I learned to live with the flat sounding television speakers. For cable I could plug my RCA plugs into the cable box but for Netflix and Youtube I had to learn to live with the television speakers.

Last week I finally took a chance on what was called a digital to analog converter. It was about twenty bucks on the Internet. I was expecting a usb plug. Instead it came with weird plugs I later found out were HDMI plugs. After getting out my flashlight and magnifiying glass I located a previously unseen HDMI port on the back of the tv. I plugged everthing in. Surprisingly, after some tinkering, I got the thing to work. Now my old speakers can play my Netflix and You Tube feeds. Sound isn't bad. After 60 you can't hear higher frequencies anyway.

Editor's note: Sometimes I wonder if companies really want to improve our listening experiences or they just want to sell us more stuff.

Britain and America arm in arm

For some reason America and the UK  will always be joined at the hip. Both countries are going through their first crisis of the 21st century together. Soon, Englishmen won't be able to get hands on their prescriptions, there will be traffic jams miles long in Dover and no-one will be able to fly a plane to Europe or even Ireland.

In America, no-one will be able to fly a plane at all. There will be no traffic controllers, luggage snifters, Food stamps, or national parks. In England no-one will be able to go from Belfast to Dublin.
Both countries will face the future alone.

My prediction is that once the W2 forms will have been distributed, they'll find a way for us to pay our taxes. The English will be able to travel anywhere they want, but it will be more expensive. Like the gas lines of 1975 the solution will be reached but it will cost more in the pocketbook.

Editor's note: Looks like the next government shutdown has been diverted. It's exciting now that we are living in a national emergency. Things feels so different.

Retirement

It happened so quickly, I'm retired. There are rules to being a new retiree that I am learning. Here are some of them:

1) Have spare money. Don't expect all the money you are owed from work will be given to you right away.

2) For men the rules are different than women. Women are expected to immediately go into care giver mode when they retire. "I'm so happy you retired, Mom. Now I can get rid of that baby sitter and take Egon out of day care. Aunt Bertha will be so happy to see you every week and I need you to help with the Valentine's party. Now you have no excuses!"  Men are only expected to visit relatives on holidays and thankfully that does not change with retirement. 

3) Have a story and stick to it. Whether you plan to play golf or fish every day, visit the family, or finally start an organic garden. People will be very insistent on knowing what you are planning to do. Netflix is not an option. For me, I've been telling everybody I plan to write a book. 

4) Don't expect to suddenly be popular. If anything people will avoid you now since they assume you are a malingerer with too much time on your hands. 

5) Retirement is expensive. When you are at work, except for the occasional temptation of the vending machines, you are quarantined from spending serious money. As a retiree, lunch at the diner, the afternoon at Target, the movies,  and the early evening at the bar can get expensive. Ditto the weekly visit to the casinos.

I'm sure there are other things on the happy road to obsolescence. I'll keep you posted. I don't have an excuse now. 

Facebook and the grim reaper

I guess it has happened to all of us. We wish someone a happy birthday on Facebook then get a message from someone else saying such and such died. We go to our high school reunion site and find out our biology professor died. 

Yesterday I went onto Facebook and saw someone had created a celestial tribute to somebody. She had a whole website with pictures and anecdotes. Apparently she died. 

In some ways it's good. Instead of wondering "what ever happened to... " an old classmate we get a cleaned up version of their lives. Their cute wives, their cute kids, their expensive vacations and at the end of life their passing from this earth. 

My mother said when she got older her main social life consisted of going to wakes and funerals. She said she had become selective about who would and wouldn't get to see her in a black dress. It became hard to go to two funerals in a month when the dress may still be in the cleaners from the last funeral.

Now we can sit at home and mourn the dead on Facebook. It does save on dry cleaning bills. 

Predictions for 2019

I'm old enough to remember New Year's Eve as the time Louis Rukeyser and his guests would sit around in tuxedos and predict the stock market for the year. One guest would be lauded as having been right and the others would be scolded for being oh so wrong.

This year I am a bit proud of myself for coming right close to predicting the close on the Dow and S and P indexes. I predicted the Dow would close at 23000 and it closed at 23327. I predicted the S and P would close at 2450 and it closed at 2507. I was overly optimistic on the NASDAQ, predicting 6800 when in fact it closed at 6635. I prontificated Microsoft to be selling at 70 when it is in fact now selling at 101.57. I was also wrong on oil prices, now selling for 45.81 instead of my inflated 80.

The Eagles are going to the playoffs, (I was right) . I predict they will lose before the Superbowl at the end of this month. Next year they will not be "in the hunt". Interest rates will go up, but not by much. My big prediction is that Mike Pence will be our president this time next year. The Donald will announce his resignation on Twitter. Americans will again be selling cherries and soybeans to China. Actually I am mildly bullish on the new year.


    Entity:                Today:               December 31, 2019:

Dow Jones               23327               26000
S and P                      2507                2900
NAS                          6635                7000
Oil                              45.81              70
Unemployed               4.1%               4.5%
Microsoft                  101.57             120

Editor's note: I own stock in Microsoft.

I still don't have an Echo

Here is a cute article about digital assistants. Got me thinking that it is time I updated my list on things that baby boomers have to have in order to be successful. Truth be told I still don't have an Echo. But as of today I have a Roomba.

For Christmas someone gave me one.  It now meant I was one step away from entering the sphere of successful baby boomers. It was vintage. Apparently it was an early model, at least 12 years old, judging from the Copyright date on the package. It was huge. I plugged it in. Nothing. I left it in for an hour so that the battery would charge.  Nothing.

I figured the battery probably was too old so I bought a new battery pack on the Internet. I plugged in the new battery. I felt so resourceful. I plugged the Roomba into the wall. Nothing. The instructions said the green light may not come on right away. I waited an hour and a half. No green light. I unplugged it. I turned it on. Yes it worked! The lights came on! I started using it. It works!

I am in Roomba Heaven. How much fun it is watching the thing go around in circles and bump into furniture. I put my new D batteries in the Roomba guards. The Roomba learned to stop at the guard lines. They worked! I emptied the trash receptacle. There was stuff inside!

Now instead of taking 15 minutes to vacuum and dust my floor it takes an hour but I get to follow the Roomba around like a proud parent watching his toddler negotiate the living room. I am one step closer to being a successful baby boomer. I'm still waiting for someone to give me an Echo.

Editor's update: Someone gave me an Echo.

Guilty pleasures

As the weather gets colder and we spend more time with our televisions I would like to describe a few of my guilty pleasures in viewing. Thanks to Netflix, I am now watching Kath and Kim. This Australian show gave birth to the phrase "muffin top" and is good for a few laughs.

On YouTube I have lately been watching Being British, where Joel and Lia traipse around Britain and other parts (they were in New Jersey a few months ago). A Canadian in Britain who does an entertaining show is Adventures and Naps. I also watch a lot of travel shows like Travel Light. I especially liked the one where the hostess attacked by monkeys.

A column I regularly read to learn about the trials and tribulations of white baby boomers who hope to inherit money is the Moneyist. That column has taught me a lot about life. Sorry. Idle hands are the devil's workshop.

Those Hungarians are coming

Recently I haven't been locking my door at night, secure in the knowledge that our president was going to keep the hoards of Hungarians marching up through Mexico in Mexico. With the new election though, I'm not so sure. 

I'm afraid the caravan is still a'coming and those new hot shot Democrats in the House are going to welcome them in with green cards, Medicaid cards and food stamps. I can see them now, the park I walk old Rustus being taken over by tents and soup kitchens and Spanish music. 

It's back to latching my back doors again. And now I have to find a new place for old Rustus to do his business. 

Group dynamics

Yes I'm back from my trip to Italy. The first thing I learned is that, in Italy, bathrooms are somewhat scarce, and even the best restaurants have two at the maximum of  toilettes. Half way through the dinner, I learned to leave the table and do my business if I wanted to avoid a line. As a point of patriotic pride, we can all be proud of the fact that America has the best and most plentiful bathrooms. Travel the world you may, no one has toilets like the USA.

As this was my first trip with a group, I was fascinated with the group dynamics. Our group had a wide assortment of ages, 30 to 88. Professions from pharmaceutical engineer to out of work actor. We had a writer of young adult fiction, who, when googled, also wrote erotic fiction. It, in general, was a jovial group. I hope they give their livers a rest now that they are back in the world of modern bathroom conveniences.

There was a budding romance, but alas, by the last two days, there was a falling out. There were rivalries, malicious gossip, and a few catty remarks along the way, but in general it was a harmonious group.

Cliques naturally formed. A group of twenty doing everything together would be unwieldy. The cliques mostly formed among people based on their previous ties. I was even allowed into a clique. Most people stayed in their cliques, but I noticed there were a few floaters. One woman took the boat ride with group A but then sat at the table of group B for dinner. Another floater turned up at the swimming pool unexpectedly.

I was sitting in my hotel room watching the tv, an American western with German voice overs, when I decided on a lark to have a beer in the bar. When I entered the bar I found a merry group from the tour imbibing and telling drunken anecdotes. The anecdotes were in English. There were more than a few latecomers to the free breakfast the next morning.

Editor's note: No, no one died in the swimming pool. New blog in the Sixties.

Husking corn in the supermarket

Recently, I noticed groups of people shucking corn in the middle of the Shop-Rite. There was a huge barrel they were using to collect the stalks. They all seemed so industrious.

Occasionally I do buy corn in the summer but I never bother to shuck them, or even bag them. I just throw them loose in the shopping cart. I always assumed it is because I am lazy and am a procrastinator. I figure I'll deal with the corn at home before I microwave it. Yes it does put me in charge of getting rid of the husks but why do work today you can put off til tomorrow?

I put in shucking corn at the grocery store in Google and came across a variety of comments. Most people seem to think it's a bad idea because shucked corn does not stay as fresh as they do in nature's envelopes. One lady in charge of buying corn for a large family admitted it makes things easier to keep clean in the kitchen without all the corn husks and corn silk that gets into everything.

I guess I'll now continue to shuck corn at home. Like the hipsters.

Two summer time books

Since I haven't blogged in a while I thought I would write about two books I recently finished. Both library books and both touch on the topics of adults in love with teenagers. In the Edith Wharton book, the Children, the affair is never consummated while in the Zoe Heller book (above)  the affair is more than consummated. Both books are products of their times, I suppose.

The Children describes a sub group called "hotel children" that apparently existed previous to WW2 where children would wander around in hotels as their parents and step-parents sauntered from fashionable resort to fashionable resort. This during an era when the children of the rich did not have to go to school but, perhaps with the aid of a tutor, wander the earth until they had the opportunity to marry, presumably to marry well. Today even the most idle of the rich send their children to schools. I guess it is the post WW2 obsession with education, at least in the West.

The protagonist, Martin, unknowingly falls in love with a fifteen year old, even though he is betrothed to someone of his own age and class. This is a fun book, and like most Edith Wharton, is a pleasurable read.

The next book, Notes on a Scandal is great fun. The author's voice is herself somewhat eccentric, which adds to the intrigue as the hint of lesbos appears. Apparently she is  bored with the people at work whom she has known for years, and becomes fascinated when a new, exciting female school teacher enters the faculty. She vies for attention with this new novelty in the form of an attractive crafts teacher. The teacher, however, is more interested in the novelty of a fifteen year old boy.

The weird thing about the story is that the school teacher is presented as a likeable character, even if she is going against the "thou shalt not sleep with thy students" taboo. Martin is also likeable, the way indecisive people can be.

So why are cherries so cheap

I was in my favorite place outside of work, the supermarket, and I noticed a man was putting bags of cherries on a display case.  The posted price was $1.99. I assumed it was per pound but upon closer inspection I saw it was per bag. And the bags were big, so big you couldn't close them. I went home and ate a few. Delicious, yes they had pits but still they were the best cherries I ever et. I had so many I brought some of them to the office just to get rid of them.

They were Washington state cherries. Why, I thought, would people ship cherries cross country to New Jersey to sell at such a cheap price? Curiosity reared its head. I found on Google a news story that perhaps explains the mystery. China is normally the main purchaser of Washington cherries but they are putting tariffs on American cherries. So I guess they are forced to sell them domestically, even to markets three thousand miles away.

Political decisions do affect our lives. Even the price of cherries at the store. A little lesson in macroeconomics. 

Smart ass reply

When I was in Boy Scouts at Camp No-Be-Bosco there was a "trading post" where among other things they had postcards you could send with pre written replies. The replies only had to be checked off. "Having a swell time", or "Learning to swim" or "I have poison sumac", or "Send money". For the lazy Scout they were very handy ways to communicate with Ma and Pa back home.

Yesterday I got an email from someone who was indisposed and subsequently was unable to attend a planned evening of debauchery. When I was writing my reply I noticed I had instant replies that I only had to check. The options were "so sorry to hear that, hope you are feeling better", "so sorry to hear your dog died", and  "Got it, the check is in the mail."

I feel like I'm back at summer camp. I'd like to add some additional pre written replies. "Yeah, right", or perhaps "Give me a break", or "So's your uncle". At least then I would feel like I was back at college.

Editor's note: Above is a camp trading post. A little bit larger than the one at olde No-be.

My retirement

People often ask me what I will do with myself after I retire. I am now telling people I'm going to write a book. Well, I hope to assemble my better blogs, edit it a bit and compile it on a Kindle book. I also would like to travel, see Mount Rushmore and be a Census taker in 2020.

The truth of the matter is I will spend most of my retirement going to the doctor's office. Then he/she will give me homework.  I will get stress tests, blood work, calcium tests, etc. between doctor's appointments. As I get older I will go to physical therapy. I will spend most of my retirement, as my father said, "horsing around with those darn old doctors".

I have learned the secret of blood tests. A week before your test, stop drinking, eating sweets, eating red meats, salami, sausage and start exercising. The day after your blood test you can drink whiskey, eat eggs, bacon, ice cream and have a swell time. Your blood tests will be inconclusive, ie. a gentleman's C. The secret to a happy retirement.

Trade wars with Europe

In return for the U.S. imposing tariffs on steel, the E.U. announced today that they are imposing tariffs on motorcycles, blue jeans, orange juice and bourbon.

One of the comforting things about sitting at a bar in Europe is looking at the liquors and being reassured by the presence of Jack Daniels, Jim Beam and George Dickel. It gives you a pride in being American, knowing that even in the sophisticated space of a Spanish or Italian bar, people recognize my countrymen for their skill at distilling.

Then you meander out into the streets and are almost run over by a Harley Davidson. You swell with the pride of your country and its motorcycles.

Now, thanks to trade wars it may be harder to find these things in Europe. Now Europe and Canada are our enemies. It wasn't too long ago that our enemies were North Korea and Russia. Now they are our great friends. It's hard keeping up in these modern times.

Harry and Meghan

Well I wrote a blog for William and Kate, so here is one for Harry and Meghan. It is great to know that all the troubles in the Middle East, the President's lawyer and the Koreas are gone. At least no one is paying attention to anything except the wedding. Even public television is doing gossipy talk shows about the event.

This wedding is more exciting than the last one because it has all the elements of drama. A red haired prince who has a propensity of getting into scrapes, a glamorous bride who was on Suits. I never watched the show but I know all about it now. The father who won an Emmy for lighting on General Hospital, won the lottery, and now is living in Mexico. It should all be exciting. Almost worth getting up early on Saturday.

My solution to who should walk Meghan down the aisle is to use a hologram of the father. She could be escorted down the aisle by a 3 dimensional image.  That would be historic. Still I think it is a bit cheap not buying lunch for the invited guests who will linger outside. At the very least they should get egg and cucumber sandwiches.

The ice cream truck

I was just reading a nostalgic piece on summertime and ice cream trucks. I too remember a hot summer's evening, sitting outside with the family and hearing the ice cream truck. You'd hear the little song and you'd confiscate money from Dad and run out to the street ready to buy ice cream. The ice cream, usually on a stick, was bought and quickly eaten with our order for mother in tow. I liked coconut on the outside.

Overpriced and inconvenient (right after every one had already had dessert) it must be a pain to be a parent when you hear that song. If you give in you're out eight dollars. If you are firm the kids are screaming and crying. The act like they are being doused in hot oil.

I remember it was a pleasant Saturday night and Mother was giving me my bath. I heard that little jingle and burst into wailing and crying. I had missed the Good Humour truck. Downstairs later and eating scooped ice cream from the fridge, the incident was over. My tears had dried and I was clean. And Dad still had that change where it belonged. In his pocket.

Happy Mothers Day

To all our mothers in the blogasphere here is a video of what your daughters will grow up to be.

Aunt Agnes opines on Cynthia Nixon

At first  I was happy and grateful that one of Richard Nixon's grandchildren wanted to run for Governor of New York. Brother, that didn't last long. Turns out she is of no relation to the great man at all. Instead she is that lesbian that I never liked on that dumb show about rich girls and their shoes and so called boyfriends, "Let's have sex in New York City".

Well I always thought those girls were more interested in each other than those unlucky men they hooked up with. Turns out they were all lesbians. At least one of them was. Now I hear tell that Cynthia Nixon wants to be governor of New York. Running on free love and gender free bathrooms and money for everybody who doesn't have a job. I'm glad I don't live there. Lordy mama, what is this world coming to.

Offspring

I have finally finished watching Offspring. 98 shows, each forty five minutes long. After three weeks I am finally done. What is Offspring? It is a highly popular Melbourne Australian comedy/serial/drama. A show about a youngish female obstetrician who works with other people of her age. They fornicate like rabbits. She also has a large extended family that procreates like rabbits. The show is sort of a combination of Call the Midwife and Parenting. Every few minutes a baby gets born. A few minutes later someone is having inappropriate sex. I get it now. Sex then babies, sex then babies. The modern version of love and marriage. Without the horses the carriages.

Plots never progress without the interruption of a cell phone call. Every ten minutes we hear a little twinkle. Experienced viewers can recognize which of the main characters is getting a call. They always interrupt whatever direction the plot was going in. In this way the show is modern.

So what have I learned from the show? I assume it is entirely accurate about life and maternity wards in Australia. First most obstetricians work in a hospital rather than private practice. Hospitals in Australia are full of gossipers. No one in Australia can ever keep a secret. Culturally, except that bars follow the Canadian model and are often known as hotels, Australia is almost identical to Southern California. The show did not have one reference to a kangaroo that I could see.

Like American shows of its ilk, there is a certain television magic to the show. Everyone lives in beautifully decorated homes and wears trendy clothing. Where does the money come from? Unclear. People fly to England on a moment's notice. No thought is ever given to airfares.

So now I am an expert on medicine, babies, family life and sex as practiced in Australia. I'd like to have a drink at the Union Club Hotel.

Snow days part 2

When I was in the first grade on a snowy morning I noticed my big brother was listening to the radio. Immediately curious, I asked what what going on. I found out that on snowy days people had to listen to WOR and Rambling with Gambling for school closings. Coming from a Herb Oscar Anderson household, this was a novelty. We had to listen to a rambling list of school closings, Pecquanack public, Riverside Country Day School, Teaneck public and then ... finally... Hackensack public. 

Hooray! we shouted. No school today. Everybody was smiling except dear old Mother. "Well, you boys better shovel the snow before Daddy gets here". Poor Daddy was at that moment braving the subways of New York and earning the family porridge. He would arrive later that afternoon. Mother would have a shot of booze waiting for him next to the door. 

For us the hard part was getting dressed. I had snow pants which I put over my regular pants. I remember they were white and required lots of work to get on. Years later when I was in high school I would ask my mother if I should put on my snow pants. I wonder what ever happened to them. Then came the gloves and snow hat. 

We finally went outside and  shoveled. After the shoveling was over we got on the sled and cavorted down Kaplan Avenue. If we still had energy we might then build a snow man or have a snowball fight with the neighborhood kids. After that it was time for hot cocoa. Snow days back in the day were a special treat. They've never been quite so much fun as a grumpy adult. 

Editor's note: I never found the article I wrote for Junior High Lights. I remember in the article writing about twisting the radio dial and coming upon a preacher who wanted his audience to "repent, repent I tell you". 

Do you know where your children are?

I've been listening to public radio and there have been discussions about the seventeen minutes walkout among students nationwide. Some schools ignored the situation, others tried to organize the protest themselves. Some schools made the kids walk to a certain location for the sake of "safety". One Catholic school had a prayer breakfast. (Guess they have to get that prayer in somehow).

It made me think about how in our high school days we got away with stuff that kids today would never get away with. I remember marching from Van Saun Park to Fairleigh Dickinson in New Jersey for the October 1969 Moratorium. I doubt my parents had any idea where  I was during that period of time. Once a few of us went to the Cooper Union in New York to pick up underground newspapers. Mom and Dad probably assumed I was somewhere in town that afternoon, not in a different state.

Senior cut day. Again I don't think my mother even knew that I wasn't in school that day. Not to say in Van Saun Park. Driven there in an adult free car. There were no cell phones either to keep tabs on us. Young people today are monitored much more closely than we were, for good or for ill. I guess the parents feel better safe than sorry.

Hollywood doesn't have stars like it used to

I was just reading this article. It talks about why fewer people are watching the Oscars. It posits that in the old days, Hollywood had stars. Stars that would appear at the Oscars and make a tedious evening with Bob Hope worthwhile. The old days of Hollywood. Orson Welles, Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robertson, Clark Cable, James Cagney, Cary Grant, Judy Garland, Elizabeth Taylor, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, William Powell and Myrna Loy. I'm sorry but I like the movies as much as the next fellow. But where are the stars? Frances MacDormand?

It's just not the same. Same for rock music. Sorry but where are the Beatles and the Stones today? Maybe it's the Internet that ruined it for us. Or Netflix. Or old age. But it's just not the same.

Should librarians carry guns

One of the big issues going around today is that of whether teachers should be armed. This is often the answer to those in the public sphere who are asking for more limits on guns and rifles among the general population. The answer seems to be if teachers have guns classrooms will be safe for all.

I have been thinking about whether librarians should be armed. After all, why should teachers have all the fun? I did very well at rifle range in Boy Scouts. Perhaps it would be neat to have a rifle leaning on the reference desk. Patrons might be less demanding. Perhaps people would pay their library fines if they knew the librarians had AK47s.

When someone who has an outstanding fine demands to make an inter library loan, librarians could use that line from Maltese Fountain, “Keep on riding me and they're gonna be picking iron out of your liver”. Delayed openings make one disoriented. Perhaps it's time we got back to our morning coffee. 

I can't follow the story

The Hope Hicks story. The Nunes memo. I am confused. I can't follow the story. Apparently our president is as innocent as the new fallen snow. This whole Russian business was started by Hillary Clinton and the real story is her e-mails.
Either that are we are at the half-way mark of an interesting but short lived period in American history. We'll be nostalgic for these days the way we reminisce about the twist and hula hoops.

The Phillip's head screwdriver

It's funny. The Phillip's head screwdriver keeps popping up in my life. I got a new tv. I quickly found out that the tv stands (yes there were two) had to be assembled using those four Phillip's head screws in the plastic bag. Later in the same week my Hoover floor cleaner wasn't putting any waste water in the refuse receptacle. Eventually I noticed the filter looked dirty. To get at the filter I needed to unscrew the thingamajig  attached with Philip's head screws.

I remember working in the basement with my father and he showed my a plyer and a Phillip's head screwdriver. It was a thrill to be allowed into the dark world of men and men's tools. Mother didn't know what a Phillip's head screwdriver was and neither did the girls up the street. Just like boys didn't know the dark arts of cooking and why you need self-rising flour for some desserts.

Today we are being told that it's time that men stop making more money than women. Yet when a woman needs to assemble a monitor to put on a presentation those damn Phililps' head screws show their faces. She has to find a man now. One who knows the dark arts of using Phillip's head screwdrivers and the difference between an awl and a  monkey wrench.

Cold weather and kids

The other day I was driving to work and I passed a few schools on the way. I saw half mile lines of parents dropping off their kids. I saw cars parked with parents waiting for the school bus to pick up their kids.

Why in my day kids walked to school or to the bus. Mom gave them another sweater and off the kids went.

In cold weather did my mother ever drive me to school? No
Did my mother ever drive me to the school bus? No
I can't imagine dear old Dad doing such a thing.

It's a snow day

Last night I had the disheartening news that we would have a delayed opening. These are always crappy situations. You still have to get up, have to shovel, and your reward is coming to work and finding out the parking lot has not been cleared. Last night I went to bed with my pajamas on backwards. I didn't set an alarm since I figured, surely I'd wake up on time.

This morning the phone rang at 720, waking me up. It was a retired employee telling me that I could go to work two hours late. Then I went to my email and lo and behold there was an update. Offices were closed all day. It was a snow day.
Hooray! A snow day!

It must be fun being retired and calling friends with news about delayed openings. It is even more fun hearing about snow in New Jersey from your hotel television set in Hawaii.

Editor's note: When I was in junior high school I wrote an article for Junior High Lights about listening to the radio to hear whether we had school on a snow day. I'll have to look for it.

I don't have an Echo

Just looking at the things someone of my social status should own. Last year I got a smart phone. I now have the other accoutrements of having a smart phone. I can now text, catch up on Facebook and my email. I've also learned that the cutesy things like taking and sending pictures cost extra money. Next time I'll be the wiser when looking for a cell phone provider.

I was so happy to think that I was finally a middle class baby boomer. Except for cruise reservations, I had the basic things I was supposed to have. Until I started reading Slate and found out I was behind again. This year, I was supposed to buy (or get as a present), the Echo. I think the idea is that you'll have this sweet female voiced personal assistant who will buy you things and play your favorite songs. Apparently you can plug lights in (or for legacy appliances buy a plug that is part of the network).

I don't know. This one I'm going to really have to think about.

Financial predictions 2018

Here's a summary I found from the The Economic Forecast Agency. For the sake of accuracy, here is a  link to last years prediction if you want to double-check any of my facts and previous predictions. Here 's an oldie but goodie from 2010. Below are the numbers from last years blog.

In red are the numbers at the close of today, the last business day of 2016. In black are my predictions from last year and  this time next year.

Entity      12/31/16     My prediction a year ago                                                   
                                                Prediction a year from now.
S and P     2239             2100                                      2400
Dow         19763          18500                                    20100
NAS          5383            5000                                      5500
MSFT        63.55           60                                         60
Oil             53.89           60                                          60
Unemployed  4.4%       5%                                         4.3%

 I also said, "So it looks like I under priced the market. This year I think things will get better too, at least for those of us who dabble in such things."
[Snippet from 2017 predictions blog] I also under priced the market in 2017.

Here are the numbers at the end of 2017 with my predictions from a year ago and for this time in 2018.

Entity      12/30/17     My prediction a year ago     Prediction a year from now.
S and P     2680              2400                                    2450
Dow         24719            20100                                   23000 
NAS          6738                5500                                  6800
MSFT        85.48 *           60                                      70
Oil             64.5                 60                                     80
Unemployed  4.1%       4.3%                                      4.5%
*after hours price 12/30/17 afternoon

 Yes I'm afraid that although the tax cuts will help the market a bit, the instability in the Mideast will result in higher energy prices, plus we can anticipate higher interest rates. Europe, our own "mad king" and an unpredictable scene overall will  make for some downwinds. Yes for the first time in the history of this blog I am predicting a retreat for the market. A big downsing in October and a moderate recovery in full swing by the end. Still, however, a negative year.

On other points, the Eagles will look better in the playoff games than predicted, but lose the last one and ultimately not go to the Superbowl.

Editor's note: I can't believe I used the term "downwinds" in an article. Need to cut down on my intake of CNBC.  I also notice that this blog demonstrates an excellent example of burying the lead. My that cheeseboard looks tempting. Happy New Years to my many blogger readers. We almost have a table!

Cruel Christmas gifts

By now we've looked at our stash from the holidays and started to evaluate them. Every year people get the greatest pleasure of the holiday, giving cruel Christmas gifts. These are the gifts that are the most fun to give and the least fun to receive.

We all know inactive people who's main exercise is walking from the car to the bar. For them, an exercise bicycle is the solution. They'll use it a few times, then it will perch, collecting dust in the basement making our friends feel guilty every time they walk by it to do the laundry.

For the cousin who always complains she never learned to paint, a beginner's paint set. She'll try it once or twice, give up, and feel annoyed with herself every time she passes it in the sewing room. Ditto for clarinets for the would be musicians. Clarinets are incredibly difficult to play for the beginner.

Items that are difficult to set up are also a great cruel Christmas gift. Electronic toys that have to be configured with blue tooth to a computer are a good example. Many a Christmas dinner has been ruined because all the men refused to leave the game room until the Fitbit or Xbox was configured, leaving cold turkey and stuffing on the dining room table.

Many of us are watching our cholesterol these days. For us, a box from Hickory Farms will do the trick. My brother loved giving these to my mother after she went on a low salt diet. Have an uncle who is cutting down on his drinking? A bottle of Jack Daniels will do the trick.

By the time most of you see this blog Christmas will be past and the travails of the new year, another Trumpian year, will be upon us.  Don't trip over those shoes that don't fit, return them!

Prince Philip doesn't like the cut of your jib

One thing I have learned from watching the Crown is that, among men, Britain had, at least back in the day, a demarcation between men and tweeds. Prince Philip was a man. He had served in the navy and as a boy took cold showers at Cheam. If he met a man he first inquired about what he did in the war.

Poor Prince Philip must have hated the Beatles and all the rest of the longhairs that got so much attention in the 60's. No military service to speak of, fairy locks, and disrespectful to boot, swinging London must have been appalling to a man who had so much respect for God and country.

My favorite character in the Crown, so far, is the photographer. At least he had a real job. A modern man, Lord Snowdon was a thorn in the side of poor martyred Princess Margaret and a double thorn in the side of the monarch. Thanks to the Crown and the PBS series on Queen Victoria I am now a complete expert on British history and can recite the pros and cons of the Suez controversy.

The man who knew Huncke

For Christmas I was given a copy of the original un-edited "scroll" version of On the Road by  Jack Kerouac. I remember reading the official version of this book while a senior in high school. It talks about the pleasures of hitchhiking, traveling aimlessly, hanging out with hobos and wild women. It made many a youngster admire the life described.

As a college student I hung out with some bearded men at the dorm who talked about the Beat writers, Rimbaud, Henry Miller and others of that ilk. The leader of the gang was the older guy who owned the paperback used book store on George Street in New Brunswick. He was a reformed addict, had some beat oriented first editions and had claimed to know Herbert Huncke.

After graduating with my BA in English the only job I could find was selling hot dogs at Two Guys and through CETA and some family connections I got a minimum wage job working at a public library. Later on I went to library school, got my MLS, and then found out all the school teachers who couldn't get jobs had become librarians in an overcrowded field. I was determined though, and unlike most people, I could relocate.

New Years Eve I spend in New Brunswick with the old bearded gang. The man who knew Huncke was there. He was living in Denver and wanted me to come there. "Come on man, move to Denver! There's plenty of jobs out there. You've got the mountains, cheap rent, and beautiful women".
. 


I remembered On the Road, then, and decided to follow the beat trail and go to Denver. Like Jack Kerouac I would move to Denver, have adventures, and get a high paying librarian position.

I packed all of my belongings that fit into the Ford Falcon my father gave me (he told me the car was mine if I paid for the brake job). I left for Denver. I picked up a hitch hiker that had a baby. After two days of driving and a night in Hays Kansas, I arrived in Denver. I stayed in a flea bitten hotel downtown and made copies of my resume.

I had only an address for the man who knew Huncke. He apparently hung out at the Muddy Waters of the Platte and worked in the used book store attached to the coffee house. When I got there it was too early and the coffee house was closed. Next door was a building painted in psychedelic colors. I figured there might be a connection between the two places.

I walked in and heard his voice. He was talking, the man who knew Huncke. He was trying to borrow money from the man standing in the doorway of an apartment. I was tempted to flee but I didn't and met up with him. He turned out to be a good, if erratic, friend. I outlasted him in Denver by five years.

America needs to have more babies

Speaker of the House Paul Ryan announced today that the problem with Americans is that we need to have more babies.

Susan: Boy, I'm beat. I need to get some sleep.
Frank: What do you say honey, want to have a baby?
Susan: You can go brush your teeth, Frank, that's the last thing I want to do is have a baby.
Frank: But Susan, the Speaker of the House said that 'Americans need to have more babies'.
Susan: And who's going to pay for these babies?
Frank: I dunno. Just want to do what's best for the country.

Guess it's time we all get together and have more babies. The Speaker of the House said so.