Go Away, Brett Favre

I play in a dynasty fantasy football league with, among other people, my brother-in-law. A dynasty league is one where we keep about half of our roster from year to year, and then we draft the other half of our team each year. So we keep the basic nucleus of our team from one season to the next. Thus, the term "dynasty."

My brother-in-law is rather, um, we'll call it fanatical about fantasy football. He runs the dynasty league, and that league opens for business on May 1. As if that's not early enough, my brother-in-law is already sending me trade offers. He's like a freakin' little kid at Christmas...in July.

At any rate, wanting to give his trade offers a fair look, I got on my favorite website for fantasy football news, and I was inundated with breaking "news" about Brett Favre asking for his unrestricted release from the New York Jets (twice!), what the timing of his request might mean as far as him coming out of retirement again, and how the Jets granted his release, and what the timing of their releasing him might mean as far as him coming out of retirement again, and what Favre's agent is saying about what Favre is doing right now and what that might mean as far as him coming out of retirement again, and on and on and on and on and on. And all of those "news" stories were posted today.

I am tired of Brett Favre. I will give it to him that he was a high quality player, back in his prime, for the Green Bay Packers. But as he aged, and his skills diminished, and his inability to avoid turning the ball over grew, the Packers understandably began the process of planning for their future without him. Favre, who is used to the likes of John Madden, Chris Berman, all of ESPN, and most of the rest of the sports media portaying him ad nauseam as some sort of superhero/demigod hybrid, got his panties in a twist when it became evident that the Packers were considering improving their chances of winning with a younger quarterback.

So he left the Packers twisting in the wind, finally deciding to play for them at the last second. The next year, he left them twisting in the wind again, but the Packers smartly said, "Screw you, Favre. You're not holding us hostage again while you extend your 15 minutes of fame into about four hours." A hyper-scrutinized public spat ensued, culminating in the Packers trading Favre to the Jets.

Seeing Favre in a Jets uniform was as weird as seeing Johnny Unitas in a Chargers uniform, Joe Montana in a Chiefs uniform, Jerry Rice in a Seahawks uniform, or Kenny Stabler in a Saints uniform.

As a kid, I was a huge Raiders fan, and Kenny Stabler was one of my favorite players. But now, when I think of him, I think of some old man, with long grey hair and a grey beard, playing about five years too long for teams--the Oilers and Saints--that he didn't belong with. He was a Raider, dammit! He shouldn't have worn any other jersey. And my memories of his glory years in the 1970's are tarnished by him dragging his career into the 1980's in Houston and New Orleans.

I don't remember the sports media covering every second of Stabler's life, though, and broadcasting and publishing it 24/7.

And this is why I can't stand Favre. ESPN loves drama and I'm pretty sure John Madden would marry Favre if he could, and between them and the rest of the media, along with Favre's ego, I never want to see him again.

You're a self-centered, narcissistic, egotistical ass, Favre. Your heyday is long gone. The Jets went 9-7 and missed the playoffs last year, in large part because you constantly turn the ball over, trying to be the hero. You're going to turn 40 this year. You're ancient in NFL terms. Hang it up. Your legacy is tarnished. I will now remember you as a washed-up annoyance--just as I remember Stabler as a tired old man in a Saints jersey--rather than the successful, strong-armed quarterback who led the Packers to glory 10 years ago. I'm sure you'll get into the Hall of Fame one day, assuming you ever really retire, and then you can have your day in the media sun again. Until then, though, crawl into a cave and don't come out.

When you started the same crap this off-season with the Jets that you did with Green Bay in your last few years there, the Jets wisely said, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out," granted you an unconditional release, and promptly drafted their quarterback of the future in Mark Sanchez.

The Jets are tired of you. The Packers are tired of you. I'm tired of you. Just go away.

The Secret to Probation

I’ve been a probation officer for about 13 years now, and I’ve supervised hundreds—maybe thousands—of people on probation for all types of offenses ranging from Driving While License Suspended to Murder. I like to tell people that 90% of my caseload takes up 10% of my time. Those are most often the people who have never been through the judicial system before and are so horrified by the whole arrest/book-in/jail/Court/probation process that I don’t need to say a word to them to keep them from reoffending. People make mistakes. I understand that. Probation is a second chance. The ultimate goal of probation is to rehabilitate, not punish. Take advantage of that chance in a positive way, learn a little something from the experience, don’t repeat the mistake, and everything is cool. I don’t think any less of anyone who has been on probation, made an effort, and learned from it.

However, 10% of my caseload takes up 90% of my time. These are sometimes the career criminals that somehow keep getting probation, despite their repeated failures to successfully complete a term of probation, but more often than that, these are the people who see probation as an easy way out of the consequences for their criminal behavior, and who have no intention of altering their lifestyle in any fashion. These are the people who exert more energy trying to fool me than they do finding a job or leading a productive lifestyle. These are often young people, recently out of high school, who feel it's their God-given right to get drunk, smoke dope, and raise hell every night. These are the people who apparently think I’m a drooling idiot.

I doubt any of these folks are reading this, but in case they are, I have some tips for them. This is like getting the freakin’ answers to the exam before you take the test. So pay attention.

Don’t lie to me. I know this is like telling the sun not to rise, but I get lied to all day every day, and you’re not a particularly good liar. You know what else? I like to learn answers to questions before I ask them. Then when I ask you the question, and you sit there and lie to my face, I know what kind of supervision this is going to be. You ruin an amazing amount of credibility when you tell me you’ve never been arrested before, when I have your 35-page criminal history sitting right in front of me. There are consequences to your behavior, but if you’re honest with me, the sanctions are much less severe. I’ve even been known to not violate someone’s probation when they’ve been upfront and honest with me about a violation. *GASP!* I know. It’s shocking. But true. Lie to me, though, and I feel no motivation to help you. If I lied to you even a fraction as much as you lie to me, you’d raise nine kinds of hell with anyone you could find to listen to you.

When I tell you to do something, do it. I’m not telling you to set yourself on fire and juggle chainsaws for my amusement. I’m telling you to comply with your conditions of probation. I work for the Court. The Court instructed you to do some things while you’re on probation. They’re not negotiable. You agreed to them when you signed your plea agreement. I don’t care if you need to tell yourself that you only signed the plea to get out of jail, if that allows you to sleep better at night. That doesn’t change the fact that you signed it. You entered a contract, agreeing to do certain things in exchange for not going to jail. When you don’t uphold your end of the contract, there is no reason for the Court to uphold its end of it. I also don’t care if your attorney supposedly told you that some of your conditions of probation don’t apply to you. Your attorney doesn’t work for the Court. I do. Your attorney doesn’t work for our probation department. I do. When you don’t do what I tell you to do, I notify the Court. It’s called a probation violation. I’ve yet to see anyone tell the Court that their attorney said it was okay to not abide by all their conditions of probation. I can’t wait to see it happen someday, though. What will happen next will be worth the price of admission.

Don’t show up to my office drunk. Or high. Or stoned. Even if my department permitted alcohol and drug use—which we don’t—do you really think it’s a good idea to show up intoxicated to a meeting with your PO? Does absolutely nothing in your brain trigger that this may not be a good idea? News flash, moron: chewing gum doesn’t mask the odor of alcohol. Neither does chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes on your way to your appointment. Allergies may cause some people’s eyes to become bloodshot, but they don’t cause pupils to dilate and constrict, so I’m not buying that one, either. I’m required to obtain 20 hours of substance abuse training each year. Multiply that by 13 years, add in my own life experience, and it takes me about four nanoseconds to detect that you’re under the influence of something. And if there is any doubt, it’s nothing for me to have you blow into a machine or pee in a cup.

By extension, don’t show up to your substance abuse counseling agency drunk. Or high. Or stoned. If it takes me four nanoseconds to detect your impairment, imagine how fast a highly-trained—and often a recovering addict—substance abuse counselor can detect it. Arguing with the counselor about the level of counseling he just recommended while your pupils are the size in pinheads and you just failed a drug screen only makes things worse. You signed a release of confidential information with the counseling agency. Guess who’s going to be the first person the counselor calls (well, after he calls the police)?

Don’t expect me to put more effort into your probation than you do. I’m not here to hold your hand or wipe your ass. I’ll point you in the right direction, but if you think it’s my job to find you a place to do your community service work, schedule the work for you, pick you up at your house and drive you there, buy your lunch and a pack of cigarettes, and have you sit in the car while I do your community service for you, you’re sadly mistaken. You know what due dates the Court imposed on you. When those due dates come and go, and you haven’t done what you’re supposed to, don’t act shocked when you wind up in jail.

Don’t drive to your appointment with me on a suspended license. Come on. At least give me a challenge.

Don’t call me anything but my name. I much prefer being called Eric over being called Mr. Ivie, but after I’ve told you my preference, if you still feel more comfortable calling me Mr. Ivie, I can tolerate it. However, I’m not your “bud”, “dude”, “boss”, “chief”, “hon”, or “sweetie.” I don't care what you call me behind my back to make yourself look good around all your friends, but when you're in my office, quit trying to kiss up to me.

Ladies, don’t bother fake-crying in my office. Or showing skin. Neither works, and you just look like an idiot. Or a whore. Depending on what you do.

I’ve heard countless excuses over the years, too. And I’m not the only one. A friend of mine, who is a probation officer in another state, actually made up a game of Bingo, where each square is a common excuse that we hear. That’s how universally well-known your excuses are. So let me save you the time and effort, and I’ll let you know how those excuses translate to us PO’s:

“I’ve been trying to call you! You’re a hard person to reach!” = If you even called at all, which I seriously doubt, you tried calling at 1:30am, or on Saturday, or on Christmas Day. You certainly didn’t call during normal business hours or leave a voice mail message if I happened to be busy when you called.

“All you guys want to do is violate people.” = You’re going to violate your probation. (It involves an incredible amount of time, manpower and taxpayer money, involving me, the prosecutor, the Clerk’s office, the Court staff, a defense attorney, the judge, law enforcement, and the jail to file a probation violation, prove it in Court, and incarcerate someone. It takes me about five minutes to successfully discharge someone from probation. Which option do you think I prefer?)

“I only had two beers.” = You drank all night long. The police don’t believe this excuse. Neither does your probation officer.

“I can’t pee with someone watching me.” = You’re going to test positive for something.

“I peed right before I came here.” = You’re going to test positive for something.

“I should be clean.” = You’re going to test positive for something.

"I was around some people smoking marijuana, but I didn't smoke any." = You're going to test positive for marijuana. And max out the scale. Because not only did you smoke it, you also brought it, rolled it, and used your own personal bong.

“I’ll pay with my tax refund.” = Between the time you make that promise and when you see me next, your car will break down, your kids will need braces or medication or glasses or school clothes, you’ll get real sick or injured and miss a month of work, the State will intercept your refund and apply it toward the $20,000 in child support arrearage that you owe, or any number of other reasons you’ll give for not paying. No one ever pays with their tax refund. Ever.

“The house isn’t usually this dirty.” = Yes, it is.

“That’s my [brother’s, wife’s, dad’s, son’s, cousin’s, friend’s, etc.] beer” or “I don’t know whose beer that is” or “I had no idea that was in there!” = That’s your beer. And you knew damn well it was there.

“I live with my parents, and my dad drinks a lot. I can’t really tell him to get the beer out of the house because it’s his house.” = You drink his beer, too.

“I live at [one address] but I stay at [another address].” = You’ll never be at either place because you don’t want me to find you.

“I don’t have a problem with alcohol or drugs.” = You absolutely do.

“I DON’T HAVE AN ANGER PROBLEM!!!” = Really?

“My parents live with me, and I take care of them.” = You’re 40 years old, still live with your parents, and you take money from them because you can’t pry your lazy ass off the couch to find a job and/or consistently show up to work. Chances are real good that if I visit you at home at 2:00pm, I’m waking your ass up.

“I wouldn’t lie.” = You’re lying.

“I swear [to God, on my kids, on my parent’s grave, on everything holy, etc.]!” = You’re lying.

“That’s the God’s honest truth.” = You’re lying.

“The cop had no probable cause to stop me.” = You blew three times the legal limit, yet you still think you have an absolutely clear and unbiased recollection of the night of your arrest. You’re going to be a real treat to supervise.

“I fell asleep for a second while I was at a stoplight.” = It’s called “passing out.”

“The cop only stopped me because of [my race, my gender, my age, my religious beliefs, his quota, being a dirty cop].” = You were doing 85 mph in a 65 mph zone, on a stretch of interstate that is a notorious pipeline for drug runners between Indianapolis and Illinois, in your 1982 Impala with no tail lights, a cracked windshield, and a license plate that expired six months ago barely hanging on by one screw on your back bumper. Meanwhile, you and the three geniuses in the car with you were all tokin’ on a fatty right as you blew past the officer you never saw sitting in the median in his fully marked police car with his radar gun pointed right at you with no other traffic within 1000 yards of your vehicle. When he finally got you to pull over ten miles later and was nearly knocked over by the cloud of marijuana smoke pouring out of the car while you and your buddies sat there sweating bullets with red and glassy dinner-plate-sized eyes, he asked if you had anything you shouldn’t have, and if he can search your car. You lied and slurred, “No, I don’t have nothin’ illegal, Occifer, sir. I’m just on my way home from Bible study. I don’t care if you search my car, though, ‘cause I know you’re just gonna do it anyway.” Then you were “shocked” when he found 80 lbs. of dope in your trunk because you just borrowed this car earlier today from a buddy who you only know as “T”, and you have no idea how those drugs got in there.

“This is just all about money.” = You’re not going to learn a damn thing from this.

The secret to succeeding at probation (and life in general)? Be honest, treat others the way you want to be treated, and take responsibility for your behavior. It’s not hard. Ninety percent of the people I supervise get it. The other ten percent will keep me employed forever.

Something's different.

I'm trying something new. It's not new, really. Rather, it's different. For me, anyway. See, I've been doing things differently than most others for the past several years. And now I'm trying to be the same as most others.

It feels kind of strange to be doing things this way. Although, I can do it like everyone else when I need to. Like at work. I always communicate with a judge like that. That's just the way it's done. But when I'm communicating with friends in a more social setting, it's difficult for me to do for some reason. It seems abrupt. Final. The end. No more room for discussion.

The old way seems more free... More flowing... More open to continued thought and conversation... Like this thought is probably concluded...unless you really want to talk about it some more...which we can...because...you know...I'm cool with it... It's comfortable to me...like popping open the button on those pants after a big Thanksgiving dinner...

But the way most other people do it is more proper. It probably looks better, especially when there's a lot to say. And it's a third of the effort of the way I've been doing it.

So I'm trying something new. Or different. Or whatever. We'll see how long it lasts.

Hello Again, Old Friends!

This is one of my favorite photos from growing up... This was taken at the MORP dance... We were all sophomores in high school at the time... MORP is PROM spelled backwards, so everything was done backwards from prom... You came alone, instead of with a date, and you dressed like idiots, instead of renting a tux... It was a total blast...

The guy in the pink shirt is Jackson, although I know him as Jay... He and I were inseparable in the small town in the Pacific Northwest where we grew up... We played football together... We ran track together... We were in band together... We were in several classes together... We hung out in school together... We hung out after school together... We wore the ugliest neckties we could find over t-shirts and completed the ensemble with Vans or Chuck Taylors... We were in Boy Scouts together, worked together at a Boy Scout Camp, and went on countless campouts and 50-milers with our Troop together... We liked the same music, we liked the same kind of pizza (ham and pineapple!), and only a couple times did we like the same girl... In the vast majority of my pictures from that time period, Jay is right next to me... Jay was really, really, REALLY small when we were growing up (he weighed 67 lbs. in 8th grade, if I remember correctly), and I was a dork, so we also watched each others' backs a lot in school...sometimes more successfully than others... About the only thing we didn't do together was wrestle... Jay competed quite well on the wrestling team, while I could never muster up an interest in the sport...

The guy on the far right, doing some sort of meditation pose, is Shekar... I went to school with Shekar from elementary school all the way up to the middle of high school... We played football together... He lived just a few blocks away from me, and he was in the same Boy Scout Troop as Jay and I were...so he was on all those campouts and 50-milers, too... He would give me rides home from the Troop Meetings in his VW Rabbit... Shekar was all legs and feet growing up, and he was easily the most uncoordinated clutz I have ever known... I was with him when we were all playing at recess in elementary school, and Shekar fell and hit his knee on a sprinkler head... Split his knee open to the bone... It was pretty darn gross for a kid our age... He was constantly tripping over stuff, knocking stuff over, and generally being a clutz... And he was a schemer... We'd walk to school together in elementary school, and I wanted a new lunchbox... By fourth grade, I didn't think my Emergency 51 lunchbox was as cool as I thought it was in kindergarten... Shekar said that if I beat the hell out of my lunchbox, my parents would have to buy me a new one... So I beat that thing on every rock, curb, and tree I could find (lunchboxes were metal back in those days)...but all my dad would do was hammer out most of the dents, fix the hinges with wire, and rig up some sort of replacement latch... I never did get a new lunchbox... I carried that damn thing to school every day forever...

I'm the one in the back in the orange shirt... I still have that orange shirt... I think I also still have that fake leather thing with fake studs in it that's on my forearm...

I moved away in between my sophomore and junior years in high school--just a couple months after that photo was taken, actually--and before long, I lost track of everyone I had grown up with, including Jay and Shekar... The years passed and, regretting that I had lost track of everyone, I tried doing some internet searches... Never could find anything on these guys...

Then, this past winter, the Mrs. twisted my arm into setting up a Facebook page... I was grumbling about how stupid it was, but she finally mentioned the possibility that I could find old friends through Facebook... The light bulb came on above my head...

I set up my page, and in a matter of minutes, I found Jay... The Mrs. thought I was having a heart attack, the way I was yelling in excitement when Jay accepted me as a Facebook friend, and we had our first contact with each other in over two decades...

Minutes after that, I found Shekar...

As days and weeks went on, I found more and more of my classmates from both high schools I attended... Last I checked, I had found almost 60 people who I went to school with in the Pacific Northwest... Over the past few months, Jay and I have kept in contact over Facebook, catching each other up on our life paths (which were incredibly similar, by the way)... About a month ago, Jay--who is an avid baseball fan--sent me a message that he was treating himself to a special birthday present... He was coming out the Midwest to attend a few major league and minor league baseball games... He was flying into Indianapolis...

Yesterday, there was a reunion that was 23 years in the making...

The guy on the left is Jackson... That little tiny guy is now taller than I am... He owns four successful businesses in Oregon... And he coaches high school wrestling...

The guy in the middle is Shekar... That clutz is now a surgeon...a SURGEON!...and a rather successful one at that... He was the first doctor around here to use some sort of innovative surgical techniques... Oh, and he practices in Indianapolis... Same city I live in... What a small little world it is...

After dinner, Shekar had to head home to pack for an out-of-town trip the next day, but Jay and I took a two-hour road trip to Fort Wayne to watch the minor league Fort Wayne TinCaps play in their inaugural homestand at their brand spankin' new ballpark... (Really nice ballpark, by the way!) Two hours up, two hours at the game, and two hours back to my house, we talked about our families, we talked more about what we've been doing for the past 23 years, we shared memories of growing up, Jay filled me in on the current goings-on of former classmates, and it was just like old times...

We had breakfast this morning, and then he hit the road to watch the Minnesota Twins battle the Cleveland Indians at Jacobs Field in Ohio... He'll catch a few more games in Ohio this weekend, and then swing back over to my house Sunday evening before flying home early Monday morning...

We're not waiting another 23 years to see each other again, I know that for sure...

Good Bye, Old Friend

I'm leaving in a few minutes to head to the Faraway Dealership, also known as Butler Toyota, to sign paperwork on a new 2009 Toyota Sienna... Yes, the battle is over... I didn't get the DVD player for free, as was my original goal, but by the time all the dust settled on the negotiations and freebies they threw in, I estimate that I'm paying about $100 for it... And I can live with that... Especially when I consider that seven years ago, I bought a very basic van (it has manual crank windows, if that tells you anything) for $1000 less than I'm buying this fully-loaded one... I'm happy, Butler Toyota is happy, and when the kids see that DVD player (the one their Daddy battled the evil car salespeople over for a week) pop out of the ceiling, they're going to be thrilled... I've got a vehicle that, by all accounts I've read and heard, is the best or one of the best minivans out there for performance, comfort, reliability, safety, and retention of value... I'm battle-weary, but I can finally be excited about this vehicle that I've emotionally compartmentalized for a week...

I just got done pulling everything out of our current van and vacuuming it out... I know the dealership will detail it before they put it out on the lot, but Olivia and June do a number on the interior of a car... I figured I'd at least get the big pieces for them... I know it's their job to detail cars, but they're also human beings, and there was some really gross stuff stuck to the carpet and seats...

I found myself getting a little sad as I vacuumed the ol' Dodge for the last time... It's been my primary vehicle for 7 years, and I have a lot of good memories in it... It performed very well, I must say, only recently starting to cost me significant sums of money a few times to correct some age-related maladies... I remember why we bought it, and even though we had to wait longer than we originally planned, we brought both of our children home from their respective hospitals in it... My kids have both barfed in it, so has the dog, and the Mrs. nearly did one night on a ride home when she was pregnant (she made to a tree, though)... In addition to Indiana, it's taken us to Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, North Carolina and back without any problems whatsoever... The seats have been in and out of it more times than my back can count, and I've lost track of all the crap I've hauled in it... And it just keeps on running... It's been a good vehicle...

It's the first vehicle that I'm sad about saying good-bye to... My first car, a 1976 Datsun 710 affectionately known as the Grey Ghost by many in Texas, was 20 years old and on its death bed when I finally sold it... I had a lot of great memories in that car, but it was time to put Old Yeller down... The second car I owned was driven away by my ex-wife after my divorce... Good riddance... The third car I owned, also purchased when I was married the first time, was traded in for the Chevy Malibu that the Mrs. drives... That thing was rapidly falling apart, and as my mom would say, it was the last remaining bad ch'i from my first marriage to be exorcised...

I bought this Dodge with the Mrs. and am now turning it in with the Mrs.... It's got a lot of life left in it, and I have no bad associations with it... So I'm sad to see it go...

But I imagine that will only last as long as it takes for that new car smell to hit my nostrils in the Sienna this afternoon...

Oh, wait! We might not be done yet!

One of my ardent followers of this blog (thanks, Mom!) suggested today that I contact a Toyota dealership in Bloomington, since she had read my last post... It had only recently occurred to me to check outside the fiefdom of Indianapolis, and it hadn't yet occurred to me to look south... So I checked their website, and lo and behold, they have the exact same van that the Faraway Dealership has! So I e-mailed them, and a few hours later (seriously? Do car dealers get THAT many e-mails that it takes them so long to answer?), they got back with me... They'll match Faraway Dealership's sale price, and they'll install a DVD player for $350 less than Faraway Dealership will...

At almost the exact same time, the sales lady from Faraway Dealership e-mails me... She wants to know if I got her voice mail message... Not sure how she'd leave me a voice mail message when I never gave her my phone number, but whatever... I'm sure Chapter 15 of the Shady Car Salesman Manual taught her that stupid tactic... But she has good news: Faraway Dealership will give me $700 more on my trade-in than we discussed on Monday... No, I write her back, I didn't get her voice mail, but in the time she left me hanging out to dry, I did some shopping around, and now Bloomington is telling me that they can do the DVD player for $350 less... Any thoughts on that?

Meanwhile, I'm also updating the salesman at the Local Dealership on the goings-on between the Bloomington Dealership and the Faraway Dealership... The Local Dealership pretty quickly throws in the towel...

So now I know that I'm getting down to an area where a pretty decent deal is being worked out... When dealerships are bowing out, that's a good sign for me...

A few hours go by, and the Faraway Dealership lady e-mails me back... They'll match Bloomington's $950 installation, so that, combined with the $700 increase in my trade-in means that I'm really only paying $250 for the DVD player now... She is correct...

But $950 was Bloomington's first offer... And they haven't seen my current van yet to be able to give me a firm trade-in number, so I'd have to drive an hour south to do that... So I e-mail them, tell them that Faraway Dealership is matching their $950... At this point, Faraway Dealership has the lead by a nose, since it will save me a trip to Bloomington to do the whole trade-in thing... Can Bloomington go any lower, so as to justify my time and gas money to go down there?

Several hours passed, and no response from Bloomington...and they closed a couple hours ago... So maybe the same aliens that snatched the Faraway Dealership's manager yesterday have snatched the Bloomington Dealership's manager today... I don't know if Bloomington is calling it quits already, or if they're trying to apply some sort of pressure, but we'll see what happens in the morning...

In the meantime, I'll try to decide if paying $250 to have an overhead DVD player installed is acceptable, since I really wanted it for free... The Mrs. raises a good point that I now cannot purchase my own DVD player and have it installed for $250...so I'm money ahead in that aspect... But I can't help but think that Bloomington is going to try to undercut the Faraway Dealership in the morning, and I might be able to squeeze another hundred or two off the price at either place...

The Mrs. also thinks I'm getting some sort of sick pleasure out of pitting car salespeople against each other...

She may be right...

These Boots Were Made for Walking

To briefly summarize the futility of today, I've exchanged e-mails today with a salesman at our local Toyota dealership, and he has pretty much promised to match the sale price offered by the dealership on the other side of the city for the new Sienna... And he'll install a DVD player for $1050...which is a whopping $150 less than the other dealership... He'll have to look at my current van before making his trade-in offer (fair enough)... But he's wishy-washy about the finance rate...

I also e-mailed the dealership on the other side of the city, where we walked out of yesterday... The sales lady said she would check with her manager (of course) to see what they could do about installing the DVD player at no charge...but he was in a meeting, so she may not have an answer for me "for a little while"... That was at 10:30am... Approaching 10 hours later, I still haven't heard from her about what her manager said... I sure hope the poor guy's okay and hasn't been taken hostage or anything... Maybe I should send the police up there to check on him...

While I was waiting for the Faraway Dealership to get back with me, I had the bright idea to see how much it would cost for me to buy a DVD player on my own and have it professionally installed... For about $200-$300, I can pick from a number of run-of-the-mill DVD players... For $700, I can buy a kick-ass Alpine with a 10.2-inch screen (the Toyota DVD player is a 9-inch screen) that gets nothing but five-star reviews on every website I could find about it... My best friend "knows a guy" (he's legendary for that) who says he can probably install it for $200 or $300... I'm also waiting to hear back from a couple of professional installation places in the city to get their installation prices... But I basically have my answer... I can get a REALLY nice DVD player installed for less, or for about the same price as what the local dealership wants to slap a smaller, lower quality player in there... I can get an average DVD player--which is what I'd be getting from Toyota--installed for WAY less than $1050...

So here's where I stand at this point... The Faraway Dealership did the worst possible thing they could do when dealing with me... They ignored me... So unless they put that DVD player in there for free, I have no motivation to drive over an hour each way to deal with them anymore... It's incredible to me how badly they have blown this deal...

I refuse to pay $1050 for a DVD player unless it's the ass-kickin' 10.2-inch Alpine that has such a clear picture that four cars behind me can watch Max & Ruby with my kids...especially when it doesn't cost the dealership anywhere near $1050 for the hardware and labor...

My other choice is to buy the van without the DVD player, at the sale price, which is $3000 less than MSRP... But then I'm left with the nagging question in my brain..."Why?"

I simply stumbled across the sale price at the Faraway Dealership... They could have that sale all the time for all I know...

The Local Dealership agreed to match the Faraway Dealership's sale price in an eye-blink...which tells me that it's not difficult to get them to knock $3000 off their prices...

The only "specials" that Toyota is running right now are $1000 cash back (which I've been told by both dealerships has already been worked into the "sale price") or 4.9% financing for 60 months... Can't do both, according to the Local Dealership, even though the Faraway Dealership was offering to do just that...well, before the manager was abducted by aliens this morning... Those "specials" make me yawn...

If I buy a Sienna now, I'll have to make two car payments for two months until our Malibu is paid off... I don't need that headache when I'm only getting a so-so deal on the Sienna...

Plus I'd have to order a DVD player and get it installed...

So unless something unexpectedly Earth-shattering happens tomorrow, I'm done dealing with these knot-heads... They can keep their Siennas... I'm tired of being jerked around, lied to, and ignored... I'll get the struts replaced on my current van for a few hundred dollars--or about one month's worth of Sienna payments--and keep on driving it... Heck, maybe I'll save a couple months' worth of Sienna payments and get that kick-ass Alpine installed in my current van! With any luck, my Dodge will last long enough that by the time I need a new car, my kids will be old enough that it will be practical to purchase a crossover instead of a minivan...and I will buy it from Blanck Chevrolet, which is apparently the only dealership around here that knows how to treat people like valued customers instead of marks in a con...

The Quest for the Holy Grail Continues

So since my last post, I've been doing a lot of reading...and by "a lot of reading", I mean A LOT OF READING... I was pretty excited about the Dodge Grand Caravan a day or two ago... They were having employee pricing, we'd get a nice loyalty rebate for buying another Dodge, they'd give us free DVD players installed in the van, and their prices were already lower than most other competitors... They even had a blue one on the lot at our local dealership, just like I wanted... Between me, my parents, and my sister, the last 347 cars (give or take 342) our family has bought have been red... Both of my cars now are red... I want a blue car, dammit! And there's a nice blue one sitting on a lot ten minutes from my house...

And then a friend of mine told me about his positive experience with his Toyota Sienna...

And then my cousin let me borrow his log-in to read what Consumer Reports had to say about minivans...

Holy crap...

The Toyota Sienna scored the best in Consumer Reports' study, and they gave it 93 points out of a possible 100... The Honda Odyssey scored a close second at 91 points... Guess who was dead last... Dodge Grand Caravan... 60 points... Second worst? Chrysler Town & Country (the plush Dodge) with 64 points... Third worst was the Nissan Quest with 78 points... So the Dodge and Chrysler are the class dunces by a long shot...

They got several black circles from Consumer Reports--their worst rating--in such categories as "predicted reliability", suspension, body hardware, brakes, fuel system, electrical system, climate system, and a category called "used car verdicts," which Consumer Reports describes as showing "whether the model had more or fewer problems overall than the average model of that year." You know...just minor stuff like that... The first sentence of their review of the Grand Caravan reads: "Overall, the Grand Caravan is a disappointment." In the owner satisfaction poll, they tied for worst with the Kia Sedona on the question "Would you buy this car again?"

It was brutal...

Meanwhile, the Toyota Sienna tied for first with the Honda Odyssey on the owner satisfaction poll, the review of the Sienna began with "our top rated minivan is comfortable with well-designed features," it has the best gas mileage of all the minivans, and the reliability ratings were almost entirely their highest or second highest rating... "Used car verdict"? Consumer Reports' second highest dot in their rating system...

So I check Edmunds.com...

Their review of the Dodge Grand Caravan starts like this:

You know that guy you meet at a party who seems really cool? Then you hang out with him for a whole weekend and that cool guy is actually a loudmouth sexist who chews with his mouth open? Well, the 2009 Dodge Grand Caravan is the automotive equivalent of that guy...In other words, the Grand Caravan is not a quality product, more a perfect example of cost-cutting and half-hearted design from a company just trying to survive.

The review just got worse from there...

Their review of the Toyota Sienna mirrored that of Consumer Reports... Good car... Well-built... Comfortable... Reliable...

JD Power & Associates? Dodge Grand Caravan scored "about average" on comfort, and below average on everything else... The Sienna only scores below average on "features accessories quality design"...and scores average or better on everything else... Oh, and it has a higher comfort rating than the Dodge... The one thing that Dodge did well at...or was at least average at...and the Sienna beat it...

Plus I've still got my friend raving about his Sienna...

In a last-ditch attempt to justify buying a Dodge, I decide that I need to buy American...help the American economy...do my civic duty...all that kind of stuff... So I download the actual window sticker on the blue Grand Caravan that I've been eyeing at our local dealership... Damn thing was made in CANADA!!! I guess it can be considered American-made as long as we're talking about NORTH AMERICA...

Anyone want to guess where the Toyota Sienna is made? From 1998 to 2003, they were made in Georgetown, Kentucky... From 2004 to today, they're made in Princeton, Indiana... I live in Indiana... I drive right past the plant that makes those Siennas every time we go visit my in-laws... Hard to get much closer to supporting my local economy than that...

If I buy a Dodge, it's actually made in Canada... To buy something made in America, I have to buy from a Japanese manufacturer... Patriotism is very confusing...

In my mind--sad as it is for me--the Dodge Grand Caravan is down for the count...

So, I start looking on-line for Siennas, and I find one on sale for $3000 less than everywhere else... Just this one van... It's not blue, but it's a dark grey color that doesn't look too awful on my computer screen (and it's not red!)... It's at a dealership that is about 90 minutes away from us...not the one that is 15 minutes away from us... But it's a really good price, I've learned after MUCH internet shopping, so I want to see it... Plus, my friend claims that once I drive a Sienna, I'll be hooked...

So the Mrs., Olivia, June, and I all pile into the car and make the drive... We test drive the van...and I have to agree with my friend: it's really nice... Okay, it's REALLY nice... Especially compared to my very basic seven-year-old van... I don't want to admit to everything that I do to a vehicle when I test drive it, but let's just say that the Sienna has a lot of giddy-up-and-go, it corners well at high speeds, the anti-lock brakes work well, and it does all of this while the stereo plays my favorite Disturbed song with crystal clarity at a volume that makes your ears bleed...

And in case you're wondering, Olivia and June were not in the car with me while I was test driving... Not that it would have fazed them much... That's pretty much how we roll to daycare every morning... (Jeez, I sure hope the Mrs. isn't reading this...)

The only thing this particular vehicle lacks is a built-in DVD player, which I really want... Olivia and June are easily tranquilized by Max & Ruby, Dora the Explorer, and the Little Einsteins (among others)... That comes in real handy on long trips like, say, to the in-laws... The dealership says they can install one...for a tremendously inflated fee of $1200, of course...and while they know I only want a monthly payment of a certain dollar amount, they think they can get me in this van for just $50 a month more than I told them I want to pay...

This is not my first experience buying a car, though, so I had told them $50 a month less than I was REALLY willing to pay, knowing that this is exactly what would happen...

The Mrs. and I discuss it rather briefly, because we both know that the other one wants this van... We tell the sales lady to give us hard figures... She comes back with a monthly payment $100 higher than I told them I was willing to pay...$50 higher than I REALLY was willing to pay...and $50 higher than they originally said the payment would be! WTF?! "Why is that?" the Mrs. asked, "Because of the DVD player?" The sales lady says yes...

Now I don't profess to be a genius or anything, but even my feeble brain can figure $50/month times 60 months is WAY more than $1200 for the DVD player, even with interest... The Mrs. is no dummy, either, so she asks the sales lady how much money we'd have to put down to lower the monthly payments by $50... The answer is $2500... Um...what? A $1200 DVD player raises the monthly payment $50, but it takes $2500 down to lower it $50?

When it was clear that we were not happy with the hard numbers, or the complete crock of shit that she came up with to justify them, the sales lady made a feeble attempt to get us to lease the van, instead (even though we had already told her that we were interested in buying, not leasing), but I was already mentally checked out of this transaction... I get lied to all day every day for a living... I don't need this bullshit from her...

She seemed a bit surprised when we packed up all the kids and walked out, never looking back...

When we got home, I crunched my own numbers... $2500 down would, indeed, lower the monthly payment by $50... What she wasn't telling us all along was that we were never in the payment range that we wanted to be in to begin with... An open and honest conversation about that early on in our discussions would have brought about negotiations on a down payment, and very likely a sale for her, instead of the sour note it all ended on...

My guess is that this is not the last we've heard from this sales lady... I'll be shocked if I don't hear from her in the next day or two... I'm willing to compromise on a down payment, but now I want that DVD player for free...just because she pissed me off... And I know it doesn't cost them anywhere NEAR $1200 for that thing, even including labor... She said herself, earlier in the afternoon when I asked her how long it would take to install a DVD player, that they have a ton of them in stock and they're easy to install, so it would be done in a day... So is she going to throw away the sale of a vehicle over a part that probably only costs the dealership a few hundred bucks? I seriously doubt it...

I also e-mailed the Toyota dealership 15 minutes from us, and asked if they'd match the sale price of the Sienna and put the DVD player in for free... And if they will, I'll buy from them tomorrow... If they won't, I'll see if I can leverage it from the sales lady at today's dealership... And if she won't, I'm in the perfect car-buying position: I don't need a new car... I may want one, but I don't need one... I can probably keep my current van running for a few more years and still be money ahead on a car payment... And the car dealers of central Indiana can kiss my ass...

Last I checked, the auto industry was the one suffering, not me... The way I see it, that gives me a pretty darn good amount of leverage... But I'm starting to think that the people who run the auto industry are the same people who run the airline industry...

The next few days should be interesting...

Decisions, Decisions

The Mrs. and I are kicking around the idea of getting a new car... We have a 2002 Dodge Grand Caravan that has performed just fine, but it was a pretty basic model seven years ago... It has manual windows, if that tells you how basic it is... It has around 85,000 miles on it, so it's starting to need more and more age-related repairs... It currently needs struts, which our oil change guy says will cost several hundred dollars... Still cheaper than a car payment, but this is just the latest in an increasingly long line of repairs we're having to pay for... It's not to the point yet where we hold our breath, wondering if it will get us from Point A to Point B without breaking down (and I've had cars like that), but it's our primary travel vehicle, so when we need it to perform, we need it to perform for a long distance...

Our second car, a 2004 Chevy Malibu, is two months away from being paid off... So we'll have money freed up each month after that car is ours... We got a really good deal on that car almost 5 years ago, and it's full of bells and whistles... The Mrs. drives it to and from work each day, it gets good gas mileage, and the Mrs. isn't reporting any major problems with it... So we'll likely hang on to it for a bit longer...

It's worth noting--and I'm happy to give them their due props--that we bought the Malibu at Blanck Chevrolet in Brownsburg, Indiana... We had a rather unpleasant experience with a Toyota dealership in Indianapolis, and when we found the Malibu on Blanck's lot and inquired about it, I made it clear to them what my issue was with the Toyota dealership, and that I had no patience left to deal with sleazebag car salesmen... They treated us very well, didn't pressure us, answered all our questions without making us feel like morons, gave us a fair price, found an additional rebate for us even after we had agreed on a price, and acted like the small-town family-owned business that they are... So we will definitely look to them first for any GM vehicles we purchase in the future...

Unfortunately, GM doesn't offer a lot of vehicles that we're interested in right now... We like having a minivan for its flexibility, its comfort, and its gas mileage, but GM doesn't make a minivan anymore... We've also kicked around the idea of a crossover, but they're considerably more expensive, get worse gas mileage, have less room, and aren't as easy to get car-seat bound children in and out of... I like the Chevrolet Traverse and the Saturn Outlook, but they're both more than I want to pay for a car... The Saturn Vue is too small for our current needs, I think...

I like the Toyota RAV4, too, and one of my coworkers really likes the one he drives, but like the Saturn Vue, I think it's a little small for our current needs... When the kids are older, I think we'll look at the RAV4 again... I still want to take a look at the Toyota Highlander, though... Possibly the Sienna, too, although I'm not a big fan of their body style... But it's worth a trip to the Toyota lot to see in person...

I've been happy with our Dodge, so I'm more than happy to consider another Grand Caravan... The price is more in our range, they get good gas mileage, and I like the looks of them... The Mrs., however, thinks they look boxy... My best friend has rented a couple of Chrysler Town & Country minivans--the more plush version of the Dodge Grand Caravan--for road trips and reports good things about it... His only complaint was low gas mileage, although he admits that running it at 85 mph for hours on end probably didn't optimize his fuel efficiency... But having hauled big, heavy, awkward seats in and out of my van for the past 7 years, I have to say that the Stow 'n Go seating that is in the new Dodges and Chryslers is quite enticing... The built-in DVD player is up there on my list, too, as we've been through two different sets of portable DVD players and had both wear out in an alarmingly short period of time...plus, they're a pain in the butt to put in and take out...and the kids like to kick the cords out while we're driving, and then say, "Uh-oh! What happened?" Dodge is also currently offering employee pricing and free DVD players...until April 30...so now I feel pressured... Dammit...

If the Mrs. dislikes the boxy style of the Grand Caravan, though, she's really not going to like the Ford Flex... It's a little pricey, too, starting at $28,550, so I imagine if you want all four tires, a steering wheel, and brakes that work, you'll be up into the $30K's real fast... Like GM, Ford does not offer a minivan...

Honda makes a minivan--the Odyssey--but it's expensive...

The Hyundai Entourage is comparable in price to the Dodge and Chrysler options, but the nearest dealership is quite a ways away from us, and I don't like the looks of it as well as I like the Dodge...

I'm sure there are other options out there, too, but those are the major options that are relatively close to us...

There is, of course, the debate between buying new and buying used... With the auto industry sagging badly, there are some good deals on pricing, financing (I've seen 0% financing making its way back, which is what we got on our current van), and packages... And the federal government is offering tax breaks for purchasing new vehicles... Plus, having a NEW car is always fun...and you know that some knothead didn't run it for 30,000 miles on a single quart of oil... We'll have to weigh all that against the reduction in price of buying used, though...

So I'm curious to hear from people--especially those who have kids still in car seats--about any experiences they've had with their minivans or crossovers... I think the Mrs. and I have pretty much decided that we'll buy one more minivan and then see where we stand when the kids are 5, 6, or 7 years older...

If I had no kids and about $40,000, though, my choice would be easy: a 2009 Dodge Challenger R/T in Deep Water Blue Pearl... Man, those are awesome looking cars...

Anyway...back to reality...let me know good and bad experiences you've had with particular minivans and/or crossovers... Thanks!

Grand Championship of the World

Several times a week, I compete for the Grand Championship of the World...

My best friend lives across the street... His name is Chuck... Most nights of the week, I head over to Chuck's garage to unwind, shoot the bull, and share crude jokes... He has a little 13-inch TV in his garage, and we usually watch whatever we can pick up on the bunny ears... Sometimes we get lucky, and it's a sporting event... Or re-runs of Everybody Loves Raymond...

We occasionally talk about our jobs, although not all that much... We're in two completely different occupations, so we don't spend a lot of time talking shop...which I think we both appreciate... We'd rather spend our time talking about our families, cracking on each other, and just talking about nothing...

A couple years ago or so, Chuck bought a pool table... Since we spend so much time in his garage, it was the logical place to put the pool table...

We'd play pool for hours... 9-ball, mostly... We played in the dead of winter... We played in the dead of summer... We invented weather-related terminology, like "cold roll"...describing how the ball rolls down the table three times farther than normal when the table felt is 10 degrees or less... We've played dressed in so many layers of winter clothes that we look like the Michelin Man... And we've played dripping in sweat when it's 98 degrees with 94% humidity in the garage...

It helps a lot that we're the same skill level, so most nights are competitive... Occasionally, one of us gets on a roll, but normally, it's about a 50-50 split... We'd stay up ridiculously late at night, though, and then be draggin' ass the next day at work...

So one night, as we were playing through a fog of fatigue, unable to stop ourselves, I finally blurted out that this game would be the final game of the night: the Grand Championship of the World...

The name stuck, and every night, when one of us was getting tired, we'd call the next game to be the Grand Championship of the World... It quickly became the game to win... Chuck could beat me at every game of pool all night, but if I won the Grand Championship of the World, I was elated, and Chuck was left screaming obscenities in frustration in his garage... And vice versa...

Then, a few months ago, Chuck's wife came up with a brilliant idea: a trophy...

Above is a replica of the trophy at stake... It is approximately three inches tall and whoever wins the Grand Championship of the World is to proudly display it on his fireplace mantle... This 89-cent piece of plastic has turned the Grand Championship of the World into a blood sport... It means EVERYTHING to win the trophy... Every shot is filled with tension, each of us carefully analyzing where each ball on the table winds up, even before everything stops moving... If either of us has a cheap shot at the 9-ball, we don't hesitate to try to slit the other's throat... As the winner bellows in triumph, the loser is left in a heap on the garage floor... It's great fun...

Speaking of which...I have to take the trophy down from my mantle now, and go humiliate Chuck again in his own garage...

Just Checking In

Greetings, everyone... I know I haven't posted in awhile, so I figured I should probably write a little something before I lose my fan base...because I'm wildly popular in Japan, you know...

I've had a lot going on since I was last able to sit down and post something... Had Easter with the family on Sunday, then back to work on Monday after a three-day weekend (us county government employees didn't work on Good Friday), then my wedding anniversary (and the much-anticipated premiere of "Deadliest Catch"!) yesterday, then gymnastics with the kiddos tonight... I've got some potentially exciting stuff going on at work that's not quite official yet, so I don't want to count my chickens prematurely, but I hope to be gushing about it later...

My only complaint, really, is the weather around here lately... I thought it was supposed to be spring... But the last few days have been rainy and in the low 40's... My joints ache, I haven't seen the sun in three days, and I haven't been able to get outside enough lately to completely shake the Cabin Fever that set in over the winter...




I did get a few pictures of the birds that populate my parents' house... They're a ways away from the city lights, and Mom has a bunch of bird feeders out, so they get a nice variety of birds... These were out on Easter Sunday... Just seeing birds at all made me happy... And seeing the colorful finches and cardinals gave me some hope that spring might actually arrive...eventually...

So if you're in central Indiana, and you're as sick of this lousy weather as I am, enjoy the birds...and keep your chin up... The Mrs. says it's supposed to get up to 70 on Friday... I'm off to win back the Grand Championship of the World trophy... Don't know what that is? I'm going to leave you hanging for now... Maybe that's what I'll blog about in the near future when I get a little more time...

Talk to you again soon!

Great Day for an Easter Egg Hunt

We had a really good day today...  

This is quite an accomplishment, actually, as the last several weekends--as far back as the memory goes, in fact--have been pretty rough...  I don't need a doctor to know that our family would be diagnosed with a severe case of Cabin Fever...  It's been a long winter...

But the Mrs. and I are fresh off a rejuvenating four-day trip to warm and sunny Las Vegas, and today was a gorgeous spring day in central Indiana:  crystal clear blue skies, nice and sunny, cool breeze, and temperatures in the upper 50's...  Warm in the sun with just a touch of chill in the shade...

For those who may not know, we have two daughters...  Our oldest--we'll call her Olivia--just turned 3 years old...  Our youngest--we'll call her June--is 21 months old...  They are 15 months apart...  Olivia is a classic three-year-old, and June has recently entered her Terrible Twos...  They are very close as sisters, but they also squabble like sisters...  And they're terribly jealous of each other...  What one gets, the other one wants...  If June was getting a tetanus shot in her eyelid with an 11-inch-long rusty syringe, Olivia would want one, too...

As any parent knows, most days have their good and their bad parts...  It goes in waves...  Every night that you can put the kids to bed without any major injuries and with some semblance of your sanity left is considered a good day...

Not all days are good...

Today, though, was a great day...

It started with the Mrs. letting me sleep in obscenely late this morning...  Normally, I would return the favor tomorrow, but Olivia is about to come out of her skin with excitement about the Easter Bunny's visit tonight, so I suspect we'll both be bounced out of bed at around 3:47am to see what the Easter Bunny brought...  So the Mrs. really sacrificed for me this morning...

I stumbled out to the kitchen, fired up the coffee pot, and then realized that I smelled something good in the air...  The Mrs. had some blueberry muffins in the oven!  Score!  

After eleventy-seven warm blueberry muffins and a few cups of coffee, I got a few hours of alone time (quite the rare commodity around here) as the Mrs. took Olivia shopping for shoes, and June went down for her daily nap...  I took a ridiculously long shower, perused Yahoo! Sports at my leisure, cleaned up the kitchen, and ran the vacuum through the house...

The Mrs. and Olivia returned with several good deals on shoes, one pair in particular that Olivia was especially thrilled with:  a new pair of Dora the Explorer sandals...  The Mrs. still seemed to have her sanity and her good mood when they returned, so Olivia must have behaved in the stores...

June woke up from her nap just in time for us to go to our very first Easter Egg Hunt!  We had a little hunt in the back yard last year for Olivia, but we had never been to a community-wide Easter Egg Hunt...  We chose to attend the one at McCloud Nature Park, in Hendricks County, a few miles west of the city...  We've been to the Nature Park before, and we have always enjoyed it...  

The Nature Park did things well...  They may do this at all public egg hunts (I have nothing to which to compare this experience), but at the Nature Park, they divided the kids up into three age groups...  Both of our girls went to the "3 and Under" section...  I was relieved that we wouldn't have to be battling 12-year-olds for eggs...  They led us over to our area and had us form a big square around the eggs in the grass...  I took June, while the Mrs. took Olivia...

I admit that I was pretty skeptical about how this was going to go...  There were a lot of eggs on the ground, but there were a lot of kids, too...and adults with them...  The adults were who I was concerned about...  Neither of our girls had ever done this before, so they were going to be a little slow to catch on to the game...  While they learned, I feared, all the eggs would be snatched up around them and in front of them...  The Nature Park officials had urged everyone beforehand to be kind to one another and to share if you see a child not getting any eggs, and they advised that there were additional eggs in the main building if a child was not able to capture an egg in the grass...  But they also said that there were BIG prizes in a few of the eggs, never revealing what the BIG prizes were, but leaving us all with visions of a big-screen TV or a new car or something...  I cringed, imagining a scene like at Wal-Mart on the morning of Black Friday...  With all of this information rattling around in my brain, I'm fearing that my kids are going to be trampled in the ensuing chaos...

June and I positioned ourselves near a pocket of eggs that June would only have to take about 3 steps to reach...  There were about 8 eggs in this little spot, and I'm thinking that if I throw a couple of forearm shivers on some parents, use a few eye gouges, bash some people over the back with a folding chair, wave my gun around, and fire a few shots in the air, June might stand a chance at getting one or two eggs...

(To my law enforcement and prosecutor friends who may be reading this, I didn't really have a gun with me at the Nature Park...  I was just imagining...)

So I was a bit surprised, as we waited for the starting horn, when I heard a mother near me instructing her 3-year-old son to go toward the middle of the search area, and let the younger kids have the edges...  Wow!  Someone thinking about others!  It's an Easter miracle!

And when the horn sounded to start the scramble, June trotted out to the little patch of eggs in front of us...and no one else crowded us...or even approached us!  I hadn't even shot any dirty looks or made any threatening gestures toward anyone...  Everyone was considerate of everyone else!  I never heard any yelling or screaming or fighting anywhere in our big pasture full of eggs...  All I heard was kids having fun!

June had an absolute blast...  I had to show her what she was supposed to do, but after one egg's worth of demonstration, she was all about picking up the colorful eggs and putting them in her bag...  I really enjoyed my few minutes of relaxed one-on-one time with my youngest...  

At the end of it all (which was incredibly quick, I must add), the Mrs. and Olivia found us, and the girls had fun opening their eggs...  June, being allergic to milk and eggs, couldn't have any of the chocolate treats inside, but she didn't care...  She was just having fun opening the eggs...  Olivia, on the other hand, crammed fists full of chocolate into her mouth as fast as she could relieve them of their foil wrappers...  

We took a nice walk down to the creek--both because it was a gorgeous day and because Olivia was now TOTALLY jacked up on chocolate--where we threw rocks in the water for quite awhile...  The girls had fun, and I skipped rocks for the first time in forever...  The sound of the creek was peaceful, and it was fun impressing my kids with my ability to make a rock splash two or three times before it disappeared, as well as being able to to throw a rock all the way across the creek...

We walked back to the car, turned our empty plastic eggs in to the Park Office to be used next year, and took a leisurely drive to Wendy's for dinner...  The girls behaved themselves in Wendy's, they ate a lot of their dinners, and they didn't trash the place...  It was quite a relaxed time!

Once home, the Mrs. and the girls watched a little TV while I mowed the lawn for the first time this season, and when I came back into the house, everyone was still relaxed and in good moods...  The Mrs. didn't have a homicidal look in her eyes, which meant that the kids were good while Daddy was mowing...

We had an evening snack of popcorn, and the girls went to bed without any issues...

It was a fantastic day!  I got to sleep in late...warm blueberry muffins for breakfast...a few hours of alone time...no tension or yelling or screaming or throwing fits or crying all day long (and the kids didn't do any of that stuff, either!)...lots of quality family time...lots of time outside on a beautiful day...and a little bit of renewed faith in humanity after our great experience at the Nature Park...  

It was a great day for an Easter Egg Hunt...and for us as a family...

Driving 101

I can't stand other drivers... Most of them, anyway...

We all know that getting behind Buicks, Oldsmobiles, and, before they basically vanished from the roadways, Cadillacs, means that the driver is one of our elders...or, as I generally refer to them, Blue Hairs... Blue Hairs have decades of experience on our roadways, but their drastically reduced physical abilities needed for driving--eyesight, hearing, reflexes, ability to turn body parts to check mirrors and such things--have diminished with age... Their method of compensating for this is to drive about 30 mph under the speed limit...

We also know that Blue Hairs are so focused on keeping their Buicks centered on the roadway that they often forget that they’ve had their left turn signal on for the last 40 miles...

Blue Hairs are known to come to a dead stop before turning, going over a speed bump, crossing train tracks, encountering a yield sign with no on-coming traffic, or doing anything other than driving in a straight line on an interstate... I wonder if they don’t hear the screeching tires and metal crunching behind them as they cause a 30-car pile-up, or if they just don’t care...

Handicap tags or plates on a car are just as bad... Throw a handicap tag in a Buick, and you might as well just plan on driving 12 mph the entire way you plan to go, with your foot covering the brake at all times...

I could go on and on about Blue Hairs, but I’m really not being mean... Blue Hairs recognize their limited senses and physical abilities, and they are compensating for it... I can appreciate that... I’ll be a Blue Hair one day, and they’re going to have to pry my car keys out of my cold, dead hands, so while I occasionally get frustrated with them, I’ll give Blue Hairs some space to get their Oldsmobile parked in portions of three parking spots at the grocery store...

On the flip side (just so you don’t think I have something against Blue Hairs), you’ve got your teenaged drivers who feel that 80 mph is an appropriate speed through a residential neighborhood at night if they think it’s going to impress their buddy or the cute girl in the car with them... These kids also think that 1.3 millimeters is an appropriate distance to be behind the car in front of them...on the interstate... Passing on curves or hills? No problem! What could possibly go wrong? Stop signs are merely suggestions... Straight roads = drag strip, right? Speed limit signs? What are those? Oh, Tiffany just texted me about what Brad said that Julie told Katie when Scott went to the dance with Laurie behind her back! WTF! OMG! Let me text my BFF back! * CRASH! *

Of course, I was never one of those kids.......... Noooooooooo................

People who have anything relating to religion on their cars drive like crap... Fish symbol on the trunk? Drives like crap... “My boss is a Jewish carpenter” bumper sticker? Drives like crap... Crucifix anywhere on the car? Drives like crap... Any bumper stickers or window stickers about abortion being a mortal sin, God wanting you to do something or not do something, citing a passage from the Bible, or identifying a church (especially a large church)? Drives like crap... These people apparently think Jesus is going to protect them as they drive 15 mph under the speed limit in the passing lane, cross four lanes of traffic without signaling, attend to something going on in the back seat while they’re driving, and park in the fire lane in front of grocery stores... Either that, or they’re eager to meet Jesus...

Now before you throw holy water on me and send a priest over to exorcise my demons, I couldn’t possibly care any less about how religious a person is, or what higher power(s) they may look up to... (I’ll save the religion discussion for another day...) Plenty of people who have religion in their lives drive just fine... There’s just an amazing correspondence between the amount of religious paraphernalia on a car and the person’s inability to drive... Watch for awhile, and you’ll see I’m right...

Same goes for people whose entire back side of the car is covered with bumper stickers... It really doesn’t matter what the stickers say--although they’re usually something relating to granola-eating, tree-hugging, science fiction, saving the Earth, unicorns, or that the driver is 10% princess and 90% bitch--if there’s more than about three bumper stickers, the person drives like crap...

You know who else drives like crap? People with “Baby on Board” stuff on their car... They seem to think that since they’ve accomplished the rare feat of procreating, then they’re exempt from traffic laws and consideration of others...

Then you have the people who clearly were not born and raised in the United States who are driving like crap... There’s nothing quite like seeing someone white-knuckling the steering wheel and having dinner plate eyes while they crawl through a 65 mph zone at 23 mph...in the passing lane...and, not being familiar with the area, they see their dentist’s office at the last second on their right, and here they come, without looking or signaling... How these people were given a drivers license is beyond me... As with the religion thing, let’s not make this into some sort of racist or xenophobic discussion... That’s not the point I’m making... I’m saying, throw me in a car in the middle of Mumbai, India, and I’m going to drive like crap... I’ll be white-knuckling it with dinner plate eyes because I won’t be able to read the signs, understand the traffic laws, be used to driving on the left side of the road, or figure out how many kilometers an hour is an appropriate speed in a strange area full of obstacles and hazards I’m not familiar with... I shouldn’t be given an Indian drivers license... And people who aren’t truly comfortable reading our road signs, obeying our traffic laws, operating vehicles on the right side of the road, and driving at a safe speed shouldn’t have drivers licenses in the U.S...

And that goes for Americans in the U.S., too...

Hey, soccer mom! Hang up your phone and drive!

Speaking of soccer moms...ladies, if you can’t drive the 42-passenger Earth-destroying SUV that gets 4 feet to the gallon, don’t buy it... Buy something smaller in which you can actually turn corners, park in a single parking space, and back out of a driveway without running over people or things... I have kids... I understand the need to transport the entire Little League to Dairy Queen after the game, but when you do that in a small bus, and you spend that time alternating between talking on your cell phone and turning around and yelling at the kids to stop throwing jock straps at each other, you’re about to hit someone with an incredibly large vehicle... Before the women's rights movement forms a lynch mob, nothing in a woman’s chromosomes causes her to drive badly... My sister can use a one-ton pick-up to back a loaded horse trailer through the eye of a needle without thinking twice, but I can’t get a U-Haul with a car trailered on the back parked on the street within 11 feet of the curb... I have to get my sister to do it... Knowing my limitations, I do not buy a larger vehicle than I can maneuver...

Hey, Bubba! Put down the triple bacon cheeseburger, fries, and apple pie, and focus on traffic!

Hey, young lady, either put your make-up on before you leave the house, or put it on at work! How’s that mascara brush going to feel in your eyeball when you rear-end someone?

Guys, ditto for shaving...

Hey, businessman! Now’s not the time to read the New York Times!

Hey, buddy! It’s called the PASSING LANE or the FAST LANE for a reason! MOVE!!!

Hey, knot-head! It’s called a BLIND SPOT for a reason! I can’t see you! Stop hovering there!

Hey, jerk-off! Does it really create that much work for you to flip your turn signal on before you change lanes or turn? I can flick mine on with my pinky without even taking my hands off the steering wheel... Why is it such a widespread practice to not indicate which direction you want to go before going that way?

On a related note, there are mirrors in and on your car for a reason! Trying using them! It wouldn’t kill you to turn your head and check your blind spot before you change lanes, either...

Hey, idiot! You seriously couldn’t wait for 3 seconds for me to pass, with no traffic behind me? Instead, you had to pull out in front of me, causing me to engage the anti-lock brakes with my kids in the car? And then you’re going to drive 20 mph under the speed limit in front of me?

Hey, jackass! You tailgating me is not going to make the 14 cars in front of me move any faster!

Hey, moron! When the police car has someone pulled over, MOVE OVER! The officer is focusing on not getting killed by the driver or any of the passengers... The last thing the officer needs is to get killed from behind because you’re too busy talking on the phone to notice the retina-piercing red and blue lights on the side of the road... And what’s the point of rubber-necking? Never seen a car pulled over before? Pay attention to what’s in front of you, not what’s going on over there... It’s none of your business, anyway...

Hey, low man on the office totem pole! If you’re ordering lunch for 25 different people on 25 different tickets, don’t use the drive-thru lane! Go inside!

And don’t even get me started on how people drive in inclement weather...

I’ve certainly made my share of mistakes on the roadways, so I’m not expecting perfection or anything... But I was taught by my parents and in driver’s education to drive defensively and to eliminate as many distractions to the driver as possible... I see the vast majority of today’s drivers doing the exact opposite on a regular basis... I’ve got my two young children strapped into the best car seats I can find, in one of the largest and safest vehicles I can afford, and I still hold my breath every time I’m on the roadways with them in the car...

If I could drive a Sherman tank, I would...

Especially if the artillery came with it...

Northwest Airlines' Reply

You may remember that I went on a bit of a rant a few days ago after our experience with Northwest Airlines... If you didn't catch the rant, it's here...

Well, after I posted my rant, I sent a toned-down version through the Complaints link on Northwest Airlines' website... I'll spare you the reading of that letter, as it would be an exercise in duplication, albeit phrased a bit more moderately and less...um...colorfully than my blog... But it covered all the same points that I ranted about in my post...

Northwest Airlines responded today:

Dear Mr. Ivie,

RE: Case Number 7359766

Thank you for writing about your recent flight experience. On behalf of Northwest Airlines, we sincerely apologize for your disappointment with every aspect of your travel with us.

I am truly sorry for your disappointment with the schedule change of your travel. I understand this schedule change added hours to your travel time and diminished hours in Las Vegas. Please understand that when a schedule change does not meet our passenger's travel obligations, our passengers are eligible for a refund of their airfare. Therefore, no compensation is due for this schedule change as we allow refunds (before travel commences) on nonrefundable tickets due to this inconvenience.

Additionally, I apologize for your dissatisfaction with our checked baggage fee. Please understand that we do not add this cost to the fare prices because most passengers do not check luggage. We feel it is more logical to charge those that choose to check their luggage rather than charging everyone. Please know that passengers are allowed to carry-on one small bag as well as an additional item such as a briefcase, purse, camera case, etc. Prior to travel, we invite our passengers to visit the web site of their operating airline at either www.delta.com or www.nwa.com for the most up-to-date information on checked baggage. I am sorry you were unaware of this fee as it was located on your trip summary and receipt and also located online.

I also want to apologize for your disappointment as you were unable to receive seat assignments prior to departure. Please understand that our customers are able to purchase seat assignments online. If they choose not to purchase seat assignments, the only time they are eligible to receive their assignments is at the airport. This is why our agent was unable to reserve seat assignments for you. I am sorry your seat assignments changed, we try to accommodate everyone's seating request, however, I was pleased to know that you and your traveling companion were able to be seated next to each other.

I want to thank you, Mr. Ivie, for taking the time to bring this matter to our attention. As a WorldPerks member, your future business is important to us and I hope you will continue to choose Northwest for your air travel needs.

Sincerely,

Brittany Nelson
Customer Care
Northwest/KLM/Delta Air Lines

Northwest Airlines is now part of Delta Air Lines

And here's what I read:

Dear Mr. Ivie:

We're only responding because you asked us to.

Tough shit about the changed flights. Somewhere, in microscopic print, we said you could cancel your entire vacation if you didn't like us changing your flights around. You must have missed it and instead saw the big print about how it would cost you $500 to cancel your vacation package. So suck it.

Next to the microscopic print that said you could cancel your entire vacation if you didn't like us changing your flights, we put in there that we're going to charge you for baggage. You're clearly an idiot.

If you had given us more money, we'd have given you a seat assignment on the flight home from Vegas a lot sooner than we did. Money changes everything, idiot. Haven't you learned that lesson from us yet? You may be a bigger idiot than we initially thought!

We really don't care that you wrote to us. Just give us more money on future vacations, even though we have clearly demonstrated to you here that we were not at fault for anything, nor do we have any intentions of changing our business practices in the future.

Love,

Brittany

P.S. You're an idiot. You know, in case you missed it before.

I could rant some more about how Brittany didn't even address many of the points I made in my letter, nor did she give me any satisfactory answers to questions I raised... I could point out that her explanation of the seating assignment thing is complete crap, since we were able to get assignments on two of three flights without paying any extra money... I could mention that I literally laughed out loud at the comment that "passengers are allowed to carry-on one small bag"... (Britanny obviously hasn't ever traveled for four days and three nights, to think that we could get by on a "small" bag each...nor has she ever been on one of her own planes to see what people try to pass off as "small" bags...) And if "most passengers do not check luggage", who were all those people standing with me in baggage claim?

But I just don't care anymore... Northwest/Delta Airlines is dead to me...

Maybe all airlines are like this...I don't know... But I do know that Southwest Airlines manages to find a way to transport people's luggage without charging extra money, so at least I'll have that problem solved with a different airline... And if all the airlines are like this...well...we have casinos here in Indiana that I can drive to...

Pardon me while I get on-line and cancel my WorldPerks membership...

Welcome to My World

By golly, I think I finally found something I like! It's not easy being a perfectionist...or OCD...or whatever you want to call it... But I think I've finally found a template that I like all the way around: color, font, general layout, the whole nine yards... Only took me five hours... I think the Mrs. went to bed a few hours ago... Either that or she moved out... I'm not really sure which... I get pretty involved in things when I'm on a quest, as I was tonight... I vaguely remember her giving me a kiss on the head and sighing as I went off on another profanity-laced tirade about not being able to accomplish what I wanted with the blog... I only just now realized she wasn't still in the living room with me when I went to whooping and hollering about finally achieving my goal...and I could hear crickets chirping when I was done slapping myself on the back... I'm kind of wondering now if I'm going to pay for this tomorrow...

I changed the sign out front, too... Ramblings of an Idiot was kind of catchy, I thought, but self-deprecation is only so funny for so long, and I need to work on taking a little more positive outlook on things... I liked the new graphic, and My World came to mind as something simple and accurate... I like it because I can make My World whatever I want it to be...

Speaking of which, did I mention that I bench-pressed 800 lbs. today? And that was after I ran for 30 miles...uphill...the whole way... I was just mentioning to Jessica Alba today at lunch that I haven't really exercised much since single-handedly saving Gotham City and putting the Joker back in Arkham Asylum... Oh, wait...hang on...I gotta go... Coach Mora just called...he wants me up in Seattle to work out for the Seahawks... Seems they're a little short on running backs, and a 6'3" guy like myself who can run a 3.9-second 40-yard-dash is just what they're looking for...

I love My World...

Sorry for the Clutter

Sorry for the clutter... I'm trying to spruce things up around the place, but I'm not having much success so far... I know nothing about HTML, so it's difficult to find a template that I like that I can work with...

I'll get it fixed soon...

In the meantime, I won all three NCAA men's basketball tournament brackets I was in... I had a crazy run of success from the Elite Eight on... I finished ranked #947 in all of the Yahoo! universe... 99th percentile... Out of millions... Absolutely nuts... I've only correctly picked the national champion twice in my entire life... Both times, it was North Carolina...

Okay...I'm going to make one last push to find a template I like before I go to bed...

The Adventures of an Uneasy Rider

I don’t like Northwest or Delta Airlines at all...

My dad, who is a seasoned traveler, says our experience is pretty typical of commercial air travel, but it still pisses me off to no end...

It all started back in September, when we booked a vacation package to Las Vegas for late March... Six months in advance of our trip, we got a pretty good price on airline tickets and hotel accommodations, and we were able to get non-stop flights to and from Vegas... Everything was just peachy...

Then, in December, the troubles began...

I got an e-mail that our non-stop flights had been changed on both ends... Now we were flying through Minneapolis on our way to Vegas, and through Memphis on our way home... In addition to the aggravation of losing our direct flights and spending more time on airplanes, having to change planes, make connecting flights on time, hope our luggage gets transferred properly, etc., we were now arriving in Vegas 3.5 hours later than originally scheduled, leaving Vegas an hour earlier, and arriving home 3 hours later...

I got on NWA’s website and discovered that they were still selling tickets for the non-stop flight home that we had been bumped from! The non-stop flight to Las Vegas was no longer being offered, but the non-stop flight from Vegas was still being sold!

So I called NWA and spoke to a woman who couldn’t explain why we got bumped from the return flight, but she was able to put us back on the original flight home that we booked... We were SOL on the flight out, though, as she informed me that NWA had simply cancelled that flight in its entirety... “That happens sometimes,” she told me... So we were stuck going through Minneapolis...

In late January--about 60 days prior to our trip--we were able to get on-line and reserve our seats... I got on NWA’s website, got our seats on the Indy-to-Minny flight and the Minny-to-Vegas flight, but the flight from Vegas to Indy wasn’t available to reserve seats yet... I figured I’d check back in a few days and get those reserved, too... I got back on-line a week later to discover that the flight was already full... No seats to be reserved... There were still some open seats on the chart, but they were handicapped-access seats, exit row seats, and a few other seats reserved for “elite service” or whatever NWA calls their plan where people pay extra money to be treated as if they’re better than the rest of humanity... None of those seats could be reserved by a commoner such as myself...

I checked and checked over the course of several weeks, but no seats became available... I was starting to get pretty pissed that we may not have seats on the flight we reserved six months in advance... I had wanted to handle the vacation arrangements by myself, but I eventually felt obligated to tell the Mrs. that we may be hitch-hiking back to Indy from Vegas...

The Mrs., after being with me for a decade, is well aware of the fact that I struggle mightily with patience and tact, while foul language is something that comes easily to me... So in an effort to prevent us from being kicked off all our flights and universally banned from the entire airline industry, she called NWA instead of me calling them...

As quickly as she hung up, I knew there was a problem...

The woman who “helped” her on the phone didn’t really help her at all... She told the Mrs. that the Computer Gods had not bestowed her with the power to give us any of the exit row seats, despite the Mrs.’s assurances that, assuming I survived a plane crash, I was physically capable of opening the exit door... When the Mrs. expressed her irritation with not having seats on a flight we reserved several months ago, the woman said without feeling, “That must be frustrating”...

I continued checking on-line every day up until the day before we left for Vegas, and no seats ever became available...

On the day before we left, I checked us in on-line and printed out our boarding passes... I discovered at that point that, since the Mrs. and I were each checking one suitcase, we would be charged an additional $30.00 to check our luggage... What the hell?! And, of course, we’d be charged ANOTHER $30.00 to check our luggage on the way home... What the HELL?!?!?! Since we needed clothes in Vegas, and since the Mrs. had already gone through the trouble of packing, and since we didn’t want to have to buy an entirely new wardrobe upon our return home, I had no choice but to pay NWA an additional $60.00 on top of what I had already paid them for the tickets, just to get our luggage there and back... The logic of this is absolutely baffling to me... Who the hell flies without luggage??? (That question would be answered for me later...) And why not just charge an additional $60.00 for the plane tickets, and not charge for luggage?

So we got to the Indy Airport at some God-awful hour in the morning so that we could be herded like cattle through NWA’s baggage check line, run the security gauntlet (which is rather nerve-wracking for someone who doesn’t travel much and who is pretty sure that he would not enjoy a cavity search by TSA personnel, not to mention the inconvenience of basically having to undress before walking through a metal detector), and find our way to our gate at least 17 hours prior to our flight, or whatever the Air Travel Powers-That-Be recommend...

On the bright side, during the very long period of time between our arrival at the airport and the departure of our flight, the Mrs. asked a NWA employee about our non-existent seat assignments on our flight home... With a couple of keystrokes, he secured us two exit row seats... Amazing how that worked... He must have been new to the NWA organization and not completely familiar with the stick-it-to-the-customer tactics universally employed by the company...

As we boarded the plane, I learned what kind of person flies without checking luggage... It’s a large percentage of the passengers who just carry their luggage onto the plane... Those boxes that your carry-on luggage are supposed to fit into to make sure they meet airline regulations are apparently just a loose suggestion, because people carried on enormous suitcases, many more than the one carry-on piece allowed, guitars, skis, javelins, and I swear one guy carried on a tuba... How do you carry on more than your allotted one piece? The secret is apparently to call two or three of your carry-on bags “purses” and then they somehow don’t count toward the allowed total... Laptops and DVD players apparently don’t count, either... Neither do shopping bags... All of these items were wielded like weapons on a cramped aircraft as we boarded, while their owners scrambled for domination of the limited overhead space, swinging their oversized luggage over their heads, not caring who they hit on the way up, and cramming them into the overhead compartments that were way too small for all their crap, since they were designed to hold carry-ons that actually FIT in those boxes at check-in and at the gate...

The flight from Indianapolis to Minneapolis wasn’t bad at all... Everything went as planned, Captain Phil skillfully landed the jet as smoothly as you can hope for, and we even landed early, despite leaving Indy a few minutes late... We had a bit of a walk to our connecting flight’s gate, but we had plenty of time, found it easily, and plunked down in a chair in our terminal just in time to see the rain that had been falling turn into snow... Lots of snow... Big flakes, too... We groaned, wondering how long Mother Nature would delay us...

But Delta Airlines--NWA’s parent company as of October, and our provider for this leg of the trip--began the boarding process on schedule... Except as the Mrs. and I had our boarding passes scanned, the clerk kept getting an error message that our seat numbers had been changed... We were pulled out of line and informed that we were now sitting about 10 rows farther up in the plane, and instead of having a middle seat and a window seat (for the Mrs.) near the back of the plane, we now had a middle seat and an aisle seat right on the wing... No forewarning... No explanation... No apologies for the inconvenience... And no window for the Mrs., even though she wouldn’t have been able to see much, except for the wing, where we had been relocated...

As we spoke with other passengers, we discovered that several other parties had been relocated, and some had been separated... The guy with the window seat in our row was separated from his girlfriend, who was several rows in front of us and on the other side of the plane... This obviously distressed both of them greatly... A family traveling together was separated and spread all throughout the plane... And no one had been informed of the reassignments until they started boarding the aircraft... We never did find out why we had all been moved around...

The flight crew looked and behaved as though they had recently started working for Delta after spending the last four decades working as guards in a Russian gulag... I fell asleep at one point in my aisle seat and apparently slumped a bit toward the aisle... I was abruptly awakened when I was body-checked by someone walking by, with no “excuse me” or “sorry” or “oops, did I just separate your shoulder?”... It was harder than some of the hits I took playing football... Turns out, it was one of the stewardesses...

After we sat in the cramped aircraft with no air flow for about 15 minutes without moving, the pilot finally got on the PA system and informed us that there was a “mechanical problem” that needed to be fixed... That’s not something that an inexperienced air traveler wants to hear... It was something to do with the engine’s overheating sensor, and it would be about 15-20 minutes before they could get it fixed...

Thirty minutes later, the pilot was back on the PA, telling us that they had kind of fixed the problem...sort of... The new sensor worked...sometimes... That wasn’t good enough for the captain, though, so it would be another 10-15 minutes before they could spray some engine cleaner on it to see if that helped... I thought to myself, Why not slap on some chicken wire and duct tape, too, as long as you’re fixing it right? Another 30 minutes later, the pilot advised us that MacGyver had finally been able to use a toothpick, a paper clip, some axle grease, and a lighter to fix the plane, and we were now all ready to...................get de-iced...

So we got in line to get de-iced, since snow and a “wintry mix” had been falling on the plane for a couple of hours, at least... We were 8th in line... It could have been worse, though... We could have been on one of the 10-15 planes sitting behind us...

Thirty minutes later, they sprayed a little foam on the plane and called us de-iced... It was a lot like the foam that is on your car when you go through a car wash... Not very convincing that we were de-iced... I didn’t hear any removal of any ice whatsoever... I didn’t see anyone scraping the windows... Just foam...

But nevertheless, 90 minutes late, we were in the air and headed to Las Vegas... Igor, Olga, and the other delightful comrades who served as our flight attendants never once cracked even the slightest grin throughout the entire flight... No one dared complain about the moldy bread and dirty water they occasionally threw at us for sustenance during our five hours on the plane... We arrived about five hours later than we would have, had we been able to keep our original non-stop flight... That’s five hours less vacation... But I suppose I should be happy that the plane held together, the flight crew didn’t strip me naked and throw me in solitary confinement, and the magic de-icing foam worked...

The trip home wasn’t nearly the odyssey that the trip to Vegas was, except that the seat the Mrs. sat in had apparently been occupied by an 800-lb. gorilla for 48 straight hours prior to the Mrs. sitting in it, because the foam was mashed down to about an eighth of an inch... So basically it was like sitting on bleachers for 3.5 hours... I had a middle seat, and I’m broad-shouldered, so I felt like I was crammed into a sardine can all the way home... And the stewardess making all the announcements on the PA system wasn’t even close to speaking English as her first language... It was probably somewhere around her third or fourth language... No one understood a thing she said for the entire flight... But the plane didn’t crash, our luggage arrived in one piece, and we actually arrived 20 minutes early, so I can’t complain too much...

Seasoned travelers will probably yawn at this account, telling me that this is how air travel normally is... My question is this...why does it have to be like this? As airlines struggle to survive, primarily after 9/11, wouldn’t it make more sense to lower prices, eliminate hidden fees, and treat customers like valued human beings in an effort to attract more business? Instead, we’re treated like cattle being led to slaughter... I paid an exorbitant amount of money for certain services, but NWA repeatedly changed what they initially advertised, never offering to return any of the money I paid for the services I was no longer receiving... They didn’t honor their end of the agreement, but I’m still expected to honor my end... And that, apparently, is acceptable behavior in today’s world... How did we, as a society, reach this point? When did the outrage over this kind of treatment end, and we just decided to take it up the keister without complaint?

I can’t wait for the next SOB who works for an airline to be placed on probation with me... First, I’m going to change the start and end dates of his probation without notifying him, and then I’ll extend his probation by a year...again, with no notice... When he complains, I’ll say, “That happens sometimes”... Then I’ll start charging him random fees... A probation start fee of $100... A probation discharge fee of $100... No one will have told him about those fees...they’ll just be a little surprise for him... But he can’t start or end probation until he pays them! I’ll make him report to my office 3 hours prior to his appointment time...which I’ll change frequently without notifying him... I’ll make him drive to my office by way of Wisconsin... When he gets to my office, I’ll make sure he has to strip naked and walk through the metal detector 17 times before it stops beeping, while 10 or 12 security thugs stare at him, waiting for my signal to give him a cavity search... During our meetings, I’m going to make him wait for hours on end on an uncomfortable chair next to a big fat smelly guy in a stuffy little closet with no air circulation... Periodically, I’ll make promises to him that his misery will end shortly, only to leave him in there for another 2 or 3 hours... When he complains, I’ll say, without feeling, “That must be frustrating”... If he brings a briefcase, I’ll be sure to beat the hell out of it, set it out in the rain for a few hours, and then send it to Denver... And at the end of it all, I’ll smile at him and tell him to come back for more real soon!