I think I'm on a list under the heading-Sucker.

Friendly people keep calling me. The address me by my first name and explain that what the have to sell is important. It's not.
I hang up often and generally after a bit they all go away. One is most persistent.
Michael called me and explained I had won a prize. What an idiot, I have never won a prize. I was about to be gifted with a security system...for free.
I told him to go away and never call again.
Today Steve called me and wanted to discuss my security system. I told him I have an Uzi and several of the newer arms all about the house, loaded and waiting for the arrival of an intruder. I'd plenty of target practice and figured I could kill without making too much of a mess.
Clearly he'd done some basic research on Kentucky, he probably even knew about the lady up the hill who killed a naked man when he broke into her kitchen.
I do hope I'm rid of these salesmen even though I'm probably the only unarmed person on the street.

I do have a security system. The damndogs could bamboozle most people. Nook gets overexcited and races around the house barking and missing a stranger by inches. Winnie can bark loudly too and she's a dab hand at imitating a pit bull when she's alarmed. All of witch just might distract a person until Mickey the stealth dog went in for the kill. He's the only one I suspect might bite.

Then there's me. If I hear an intruder I have recourse. I can call the police. John, a fervent believer in women's rights will generally sleep through any ruckus, but if it gets bad enough I can escape down the hidden staircase or open the window on the side of the house and scream, all sorts of non violent action.
And in the absolutely worst case I can pinch John until he has to get up and let me guide him to the safe route outside.

news

Young woman, high voice, undertone of whine.

"So why is the market higher today? Do you think this is a long term trend?  Is it the fall of Tripoli? What's going to happen there? Do you think that the price of gas in going to fall? How far? When will it fall? Which people will take control of the government there? " And on, and on and on...

Businessmen, financial types, authoritative voices with affected accents of unsure.

"We can't do anything because we don't know what's going to happen. I mean we just don't know. How can we lend in this environment? How can we invest? We just don't know what's going to happen from day to day. Why the stock market keeps going up and down. Times are just too unstable. We can't be expected to do anything. I've never seen anything like it. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow." What they do know is that the taxpayers will bail them out and they they will get millions in bonuses, but they're keeping that secret..

Clearly these people are robots. They expect absolute direction. Hasn't anyone told them that NO ONE KNOWS WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TOMORROW. The market always goes up and down.

Except of course the guys who control the market. They know because they make it happen. They are, however, not available for interview.

Jackasses all.

Finally.

In the past few days I have caught two statements from the "experts."

Financial expert: "Actually, if you think about it, the stock market has been divorced from economic reality for some time now."

Political expert "Sarah Palin seems much more interested in reality shows than a political career."

Me-the fig newton of the intellectual community- "Duh."

Why it takes so long

You may know that I have a theory that gravity is time, and all this without Einstien. I can tell because in time all of me has fallen, even parts I didn't know could fall.

Machines are made of parts and these parts fail with depressing regularity. I know that the failure is planned by the makers to insure economic activity (planned obselesence). Still, I think of it as a hostile act on the part of the machine. No doubt this is because my father wrestled all machinery into submission with a few cheap parts, an engineering degree and a determination not to be bested by a errant wire, bolt or anything else that dared give up the ghost. He once dissassembled an entire car engine and put the pieces carefully on a tarp outside in his irritation at a straying something that made the engine disfunctional. This put a bit of a crimp on my dating life, such as it was, because all the guys took one look at the array in the yard and my dad's face and decided to date the daughter of a real estate agent.

Daddy has gone to the great rest which I hope is full of things that work-though I wouldn't be on it- so now we must handle mechanical failure on our own. 

So  the dryer stopped tumbling. John left instructions for me to get it fixed and I need to explain the process to somebody because he won't really care. First I must call repair places. Some don't exist anymore no matter what their ad says. Others no longer repair, but they WILL sell. Those in Cincinnati always seem to charge for the time it takes the repairman to turn the key of his truck till his last breath which I desperately hope will be after the repair. Then should the dryer need to be deep sixed they charge for delivery of the new and removal of the dead dryer. They charge to hook it up to the gas line. They charge for the kit they leave for us to hook it up to the gas line. (I really don't understand that)

When I finally figure out the location of a repair person, I have to call around. If the service is in Kenton Co.
I have to find a reference from that county. If the service is in Campbell Co. I have to find someone there.
After all this, I have to call off eveyone who I've scheduled who isn't the Chosen One.

I actually don't know who reads this. Please read!

I write a blog because everyone tells me I'll never make a stand up comic. Its always been my not so secret wish. I'd love to make people laugh.

My students always told me to stick to my day job. The other day I TRIED to be funny and John didn't get it.

When I write, unless you can imagine me being serious, I'm being silly. The world and politics and people are so dire that I can only laugh. If I took all the current nonsense seriously I'd be in one of those special jackets, the kind where the arms are wrapped around the body.

The world has always been absurd to one degree or another-  Alas, nowadays we all see the absurdity the minute it happens.

The Arab Spring goes awry in England

When people we don't like face popular revolt it's called an Arab Spring.

When the Brits do it, it's called lawlessness. They may have the right of it. What I love is the common comment of the proles on the rioters. "Where are their parents?" they ask.

It's so refreshing to hear people who think that parents are somehow involved with their children. In the States children are independent agents at age four or thereabout. After our kids are out of daycare the world is responsible for all juvenile behavior. When did anyone last hear a parent called responsible?

No news!

I don't believe I turned on the news. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I already knew that in a fit of prolonged pettishness the SP down graded the nation's debt. They've been a tad bit irate since it was revealed that they are paid for their ratings and thus didn't notice the bombs of
bogus stock in the banks. They were paid not to notice, but it looked bad there for a bit and the public was cross. Now of course the public has forgotten that the ratings are for sale and the down grade has affected the stock market. I want to know WHO paid S and P. We never had this problem when Bush was president and he kept entire wars off the books.

There are a surfeit of idiots with "financial" somewhere in their title. They persist in "explaining" the stock market. Sincere folk with a strange vocabulary worship at the feet of Mammon without realizing that the golden calf is never going anywhere. There IS no relationship between the stock market and reality. Not for years. If the "financial analysts" are so good at creative story telling they should retire and write books. Less tedium all around. The journalists who interview them should take up gardening. The weather is more important than anyone seems to realize.

Why did God make me? 1st question, Baltimore Religious text for childrem

So.    After a day of frenzied hysteria, induced by my mother over the question of Johnmybrother's pants which went walkabout at the nursing home, I decided to relax. As a drag on society and an inessential part of the race I figured a little relaxation would be nice.

"God made me to know Him and love Him in this world and the next." Answer to the title question.

But did he make me to fight with temperamental toilets? As per routine the innards of the downstairs toilet gave up the ghost. It does this frequently but this time I couldn't fix it. The interior workings seem to have rotted all at the same time.
In an effort to spare John the repair (Consists of muttering, trips to store and aggravation) I called a plumber.
Plumber came saw and fixed- he said.
That very night, secure in the operation of all the facilities, I went to sleep. Sounds wakened me. Raced into bathroom and was hit with a large spray of water. Not only was I wet all over, but I was treading in an inch or two of water spreading into the hall.
Shocked into wakefulness, I located and turned off the valve. This drenched my hair. I may have yelped a bit. I gathered  towels and whatever else and tried to dry the floor. The dogs were delighted by my dancing about and the cheerfully ran around, knocked over the gate on the stairs and visited John and the cat. I made them return downstairs. My efforts had the effect of drying out the nightgown and finally I fell asleep on the couch.
The next morning John came downstairs tripping the light fantastic. "You made a noise last night." he said making his way to the kitchen over the drenched towels on the floor. "And the dogs visited me." He opened the fridge and took out the milk. "Was anything going on?"

Someday I may speak to him again.