MEMORIES: A young couple in aruba

Sunday, March 13, 2011

In the first of our too few trips to Aruba, we’d had a good time (Except for her sunburn, which I’ll cover another time.)

We’re in this Quonset hut of a “departure terminal”. In those days, like you see in the old movies, they push a mobile stairway up to the side of the plane and you board. The hut was long, aluminum and hot. So we were going through the various “stations” — US immigration, US agriculture, US passport control, US visa, US Customs — heck if I was a bureaucrat, I’d try and figure out a job in Aruba. Then Aruba passport control, visa, etc. etc.

So Frau Reinke and I are free to approach the last station, we discover that Aruba has a $20 / head departure tax. Payable in cash US$ only — no florins (amusing that their Gooferment wouldn’t take its own paper), no credit cards, no checks, no nothing — nothing but cash on the barrelhead.

Half way to the station, we see a young couple — obviously newlyweds — the girl is in tears and the guy looks like he pooped his pants. Naturally, Frau Reinke can’t MYOB. She steps up to the girl, who’s maybe a decade younger than she is, “What’s the matter, Hon.”

Thru the water works, we learn they have no money. They spent it all and had credit cards until they got home.

Frau Reinke says: “Not to worry, Hon. We were lucky this trip and have extra.” (I want to scream “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” We hadn’t won.) She whips out her roll and gives the boy money. 60$ US and says “Here’s two for the tax and one for lunch on us.” Then she turns to the girl, gives her two $50’s, and says “Here keep this. A girl should never be without her mad money.”

Of course, they wanted her address to repay her. She just said: “No, keep it. You’ll help someone else down the road.”

Never saw them again. And, she never told anyone the story. Like most of “her” stories, she never told any of them. She was embarrassed that someone might think she was bragging. I doubt I even know them all. But, I do know that she was the easiest touch for a sob story I ever knew.

Wonder how many people got helped “down the road” because of her?

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RANT: Time to get out of the UN?

Sunday, March 13, 2011

http://ncc-1776.org/tle2011/tle609-20110306-02.html

The Genocide Agenda
by L. Neil Smith

*** begin quote ***

As a necessary first step, the United States must withdraw from the UN and evict that vile organization from this country with extreme prejudice, once and for all. It has declared war, in writing, in no uncertain terms, on the Bill of Rights which sorely impedes its goals. Its declared interest in “sustainability”—merely a code word for the nightmare it would create under Agenda 21—is enough to condemn it.

All things—even bad ones—come to an end. Grease up that Colt .357 Python sculpture with its barrel tied in a knot, And then go tell those Luxembourgers to bend over, because we’re sending it back to them.

*** end quote ***

Personally, I’ve never understood WHY we tolerate the UN?

Look at who’s on their “human rights” committee. Look at the financial corruption. Look at the difference between the Constitution and their founding documents.

Time to save a lot of money directly and indirectly. Send them home. Defund it. And, write it off as a blunder

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MEMORIES: “passbook banking”

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Frau Reinke came from a family that was rich in love but poor in “earthly treasures”. And she was a proud woman. When she finally did agree to marry me, “we” had to save for the wedding and setting up a home. The wedding is the responsibility of the bride’s family. Well she was one bride who was going to have the wedding she wanted. So each week, I’d hand off a third of my paycheck for the “future”.

(How moonstruck was I? The passbook was in her name since she did all the banking.)

Money was saved. Wedding was paid for. Pattern established.

Fast forward a few years.

We’re living in North Brunswick. She’s been diagnosed with diabetes. And, she wants to work. (Later I’d find out the reasons, but those aren’t germane to this memory.) She goes to work and makes a pretty good sum.

Luckily for the male ego I was making more. Enough to cover all our expenses. So, she gets her own bank account. With the very logical explanation, “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is ours.” Smart girl. Who needs a pre-nup?

So, being into finance and the markets, thanks to a preconscious childhood, I offer to help her with “investing”. “No help needed.”

So, she has her passbook, and she’s as happy as a clam. Each year when I did the taxes, I’d remind her that she could be earning more on her money. “No help needed.”

So, finally I get smart. I say: “I should have some money in my name”. She agrees. So I guesstimate how much she has in her passbook. (Not that hard I have her 1099 and can back into the number. Her passbook was paying about ½%.) So I put “my money” in a Dreyfus Tax Free Money Market Fund. (I think it was paying 8 and change at the time.) And, wait until next tax time.

The accountant does the taxes. We get them on a Saturday morning. I sign them without looking and give them to her. She signs them and looks them over. With some venom about “not checking”. I shrug and go to do my homework for my Comp Sci.

(Her 1099 and my “Dreyfus information statement” are attached to the forms. Her money is taxed; mine ain’t. My money is earning about 16 times what her’s is.)

You’d have sworn a cat was run over. She literally screamed. I actually thought something was wrong. It was just a realization taking place. Education hurts.

With the iciest stare I’ve ever seen, she states: “Why are you getting so much interest and I’m getting so little? Did you take more money than I have?”

It was funny.

I patiently explained that the Bank was having their way with her money. (I may have used a more graphic common verb which might be acceptable between married folk.) And, that passbooks were for children and little old ladies who didn’t know any better.

(OK, maybe that was a little harsh!)

Needless to say Our Girl was no fool. Monday at lunch time, she has her passbook converted to a statement savings account. By Wednesday, she has a Vangard Money Market account. And, by Friday, she is making non-tax deferred contributions to her Principal 401k at work.

And, the rest was history.

No more passbooks for her.

And, she never credited me with giving her any help.

ROFL!

The moral of the story is never try to help a headstrong smart Irish woman; just create a learning opportunity and stand aside.

Even today, I can hear that scream in my mind’s ear.

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FUN: Mars Needs Moms

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Oh, come on now, do they really think that children are that gullible.

Colors were good.

The family icon was strangely “universal”.

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The grand nephew in law had words of wisdom. Enough to make you cry.

“I miss Auntie Ev” Me2

“I told Mommy we should get you a puppy so you wouldn’t be lonely. (I’d heard that one before. I explained my “one dog, one wife, one house” policy)

“When will you get remarried? Then you won’t be lonely.” Argh! Explained policy again.

(Now that’s either a penetrating insight or he’s repeating what he’s heard.)

Caught me by surprise. Out of the mouths of babes.

How could anyone replace, match, or even come close to, another soul mate?

# # # # # posted 2011-03-12 16:50

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BUCKETLIST: Drive to Alaska

Saturday, March 12, 2011

201103120844.jpg

MY original item with Frau Reinke was to take the trans-Canadian rail to Vancover and catch the boat up and back.

Now maybe a car ride is in order. I can catch one of the glacier boat tours up there.

Have to develop this idea.

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MEMORIES: A grandma at turning stone

Saturday, March 12, 2011

In one of our many trips, there was an interesting incident.

We were on our way to the casino at Niagara Falls. For some reason, we stopped at Turing Stone, an Indian casino. I remember it was out of our way. We hadn’t like it when we had been there before. But she wanted to go there for some reason and despite my lack of enthusiasm.

We were there, played for a while, lost, and eventually I asked if she was ready to go. (I’d lost my stake.) She said “no”. So we set a time, and I went to food court (or whatever you’d call it). Got a cup of coffee and read my book.

At the appointed time, we met up. She was ready to leave.

(I assume she had lost the amount she was prepared to lose. She hated to lose. At anything.)

As we’re walking to the exit, a granmotherly type is sobbing — you know “my dog died” type tears — sitting at a slot machine. Our Girl zoomed right over, put her arm around the woman, and said: “What’s wrong? Are you OK?” The lady sobbed out: “I’ve lost my wallet with my money for the week in it.”

(OK, my fraud alert radar went off. “Danger, Will Robinson”. Scam?)

Our Girl says: “It’ll be OK. We’ll help you.” (We will? Huh!)

Our Girl magically summons a Casino Worker. I hadn’t seen one most of the day. I knew they existed, but like Bigfoot, a legend. After conversation, an alert went out. A Casino Guard showed up. An executive. Another executive.

(At this point, I thought we were done. Not so, Our Girl. She kept her arm on the lady. Reassuring her.)

Shortly, 15 minutes or so, a Casino worker came with a wallet. The woman looked at it and found her Drivers License and credit cards in it. But no cash.

(My fraud alert is going to double alert status. What thief leaves the credit cards?)

The casino folks quietly exited stage left. The woman wasn’t their problem.

The woman started crying again. Our Girl asked why. “I had my money for the month. 200 dollars. I came and cashed my check. Then I played the odd money. But I always kept my money to live on for the rest of the month safely aside.”

Our Girl, without hesitation, whips out her “roll” — anyone, who knows her, knows how she liked cash — and gives the woman three one hundred dollar bills. The lady is profusely grateful and wants her address to pay her back. Our Girl replies: “No need. You help someone else out. I’ll get my reward in heaven.”

So they part company.

(I bite my tongue cause I think we have just been hustled.)

On the way out, at the last row, she says: “I want to play that machine over there.”

(Yeah, again, anyone who knows her, can guess the punchline.)

I whine that we’ve lost enough, getting late, yada yada. She says: “No, I want to play that one.”

“OK”, I reply, “do you want me to get lost?” (She always thought I brought her bad luck when I shadowed her.) “No, you can stay. We won’t be long.”

50¢ machine, 9 lines, 2 per line max.

She summons the “card seller / reloader”, gives a CNote, and gets 100 loaded on the card. Sticks it in. Presses max bet.

…

And, we wait ½ hour to get the tax forms for her $1900 win.

(The taxes were always MY problem. Argh!)

All the time, she just smiled at me smugly. She loved to win.

In the car, she said: “See, I always get back more than I give away.”

And, she did.

(I still think she was scammed.)

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BUCKETLIST: Starting a new one for me

Saturday, March 12, 2011

http://abcnews.go.com/Health/Healthday/story?id=4507848&page=1

*** begin quote ***

Doctors have spent centuries trying to understand why some people die when hit with sudden devastating news or on the anniversary of a stressful event, Sweeney said. According to him, psychiatrists have studied the phenomenon for a century.

However, he said, “for the most part, the medical community discounts the notion of a human being dying of a broken heart.”

*** end quote ***

Well, clearly, the “medicine men”, for all their education and experience, don’t know it all.

Given that we don’t have an “operating manual” one can’t discount the phenom.

So, I’m getting my list of the things I want to do, need to do, or feel I must do.

I’m not planning to leave early. And, I don’t want to leave yet. But … one never knows.

“My love, were it in my power, I would sadly grant thee this boon. But, we have to continue to follow His Plan for us. Let’s go forth and speak no more of this. Who ever is last will be last. It will be His choice; not ours. We’re but humble custodians of His temple on earth. It’s not our place to trump His plan. Whatever that plan be, know that I will be with you to my last breath.” — character “John” in CHURCH 10●19●62 Volume 2 Page 399

We all travel the same “road”.

“You can’t be afraid. It’s not right to be afraid. It’s as if you don’t trust the Lord with our lives. I’m not a big Bible Banger, but it seems rude to joggle God’s elbow. Like a little kid, who has no concept of what is happening.” — character “John” in CHURCH 10●19●62 Volume 2 Page 206

I just want to “touch all the bases” before I too “go home”.

I welcome your suggestions for my list.

# # # # # posted 2011-03-12 09:29

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MEMORIES: Evy’s first game

Saturday, March 12, 2011

She told me once about her first game for HFA. As a freshman, she started. And for the first few minutes she just passed the ball to the seniors. Her coach pulled her out and she sat on the bench for a few minutes. Coach Mac then asked her: “You like being on the bench?” “No.” “If I put you back in, will you shoot?” “Yes.” Went back in at the half and scored 17. I believed her.

I’ll have to see if I can find her clippings. I know she had some. Shoulda grabbed them when I saw them.

# # # # # posted 2011-03-12 07:29

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MONEY: L. Neil Smith on “money”

Saturday, March 12, 2011

http://www.where-we-stand.com/banks.html

WHERE WE STAND

Banks and Bankers

*** begin quote ***

Banks are the means by which European aristocracy regained control of America once again following what we thought had been our Revolution.

—L. Neil Smith

*** and ***

The power to create money must be taken from the government backed banking cartel called the Federal Reserve. Lawful money, as mandated by the Constitution—precious metal coins and nothing else—must be substituted for the wastebasket trash that we’ve become accustomed to.

*** end quote ***

Agreed.

But, as always, the problem is how do we get to there from here?

It would be nice if getting there didn’t include complete societal collapse.

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RANT: MYOB!

Friday, March 11, 2011

http://www.lewrockwell.com/buchanan/buchanan153.html

It’s Their War, Not Ours
by Patrick J. Buchanan

*** begin quote ***

What is the theme, where is the consistency in U.S. policy?

We backed the dictators Zine El Abidine Ben Ali in Tunisia and Hosni Mubarak in Egypt, who were as autocratic as Gadhafi, whom we demand be deposed.

We support the dictator in Yemen, the absolute monarch in Saudi Arabia, the king in Bahrain, the sultan in Oman and the emir in Kuwait, but back pro-democracy demonstrators in Iran, though there have been more elections in Iran than in all those other nations put together.

*** end quote ***

You have to like how Pat cuts foreign policy to the bottom line.

We’ve ignored the Dead Old White Guys advice on so many things. Washington’s “no entangling alliances” is particularly on point.

Maybe the geniuses in DC should ask: “What would Switzerland do?”

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