When all the pieces fit just right

Some days I just wake up with a sense of peace that folds over me like a nice home-made quilt It is those days when you wake up and the coffee taste extra special, you open the kitchen window and the breeze is cool, not too cold. You turn on the radio and every song is a good one. The mail gets checked and not a bill in the bunch and the mailman is the one who brings your dog milk bones. When the phone rings it is calls from good friends with only pleasant news. No bombs fall on you. The man next door is back on the wagon, so you don't have to listen to the abusive screams resonating through the thin walls. When you are greasing the frying pan to make some over easy eggs, instead of grumbling, you are humming a tune. These are days I cherish.

Lazy boy

Why do men feel the need to own the remote and the recliner? Is it genetic? My father had a chair. He was a rather large man, and the arms on that lazy-boy were definitely broken. I remember him sitting there, with his remote in hand, delivering his latest lecture on life. I think it goes back to the time of Kings. The Throne. No, I am not speaking about the toilet. Every man wants to be king of his castle. Prince of his palace. All my husband needs is a crown and he is there. I guess my son is the court jester. Turns out in my quest to understand man and his need for a chair and remote, I spoke to many other woman and men. I am onto something here, yes indeed. Yup, I have a chair in front of my computer. It is no throne. Just a chair. Nothing special. My man? Oh yes, he sits on a throne. All is well in my castle until the king loses his remote. A cry emits from the man's chest similar to a war whoop! The troops are called in, (me) to make sure there are no insurgents (my son) sneaking around. So me being the wise queen tell the king he should rise from his throne and look under his buttocks. Aha, mystery solved once again.

Everything old is new again

After several months on the democratic campaign trail and a bitter battle, at least outward appearances, the young, charismatic man vs. the traditional, yet, politically seasoned woman, we have now come to where the rubber meets the road. The two forces have now joined to fill two very powerful seats in our executive branch. Hilary Clinton is a very smart and talented politician. I think if you gaze deep enough into it you will find that Bill Clinton has spent more time over-seas since he has left the presidents hat behind, to pursue humanitarian issues. So I asked myself are we really getting Hilary or Bill? The Secretary of State seat is the most powerful chair in the cabinet. Not only do they create and negotiate foreign policies, they also have the ear of the president. Again, who is really going to do the whispering in Obama's ear? Maybe Bill will whisper to Hilary?

Social Obligation

Baby showers, bridal showers, weddings and such. I am not of a fan of these events. I even remember feeling uncomfortable at my own baby shower. Why should all these people feel obligated to bring me gifts? The burden extends beyond immediate family. Nowadays they get lists of co-workers and other acquaintances. Maybe it is because the holidays are looming large, but somehow the art of gift giving seems to have gotten lost. It is expected. You must draw a name at the office, or be a social leper. That takes the joy out of giving to me. Gifts are an intimate item. Something special. Given out of love or the need to bring some joy into another's life. Not because it is good office policy. The best gifts are unexpected. They become treasures. I save cards, mementos. I am sentimental. When my mood becomes blue, those little gifts change the hue of my mood. Shopping under duress is not fun. It equates stress. The obligatory X-mas card list. Every year new names because you fear leaving someone out. Punking out and just getting a stack of gift cards. Where is the joy? This year I will be in Georgia for Christmas. My resolution is the people I love are receiving gifts. My friends are receiving gifts. The local food bank will receive a gift. That is it. Oh yeah, my dog is getting a ton of gifts. He receives his little treats and rawhides better than any being I know. This move is the best gift my family has received in ages. Oh yes, I think what started me thinking about gift giving is attending a friends shower for her upcoming wedding. She opened the cards and didn't read them. Just shook them, waiting for money or gift cards to fall out. Than she said, "Just kidding".. There is a truth in every joke.

Nicotine Fiend

Smoking is harmful to your health. Yet I continue to do it. It is expensive. A waste of hard-earned money. Puffing away as I type this. We, smokers, are the new social lepers. The signs are everywhere, the No Smoking ban is accepted without much fuss. I never thought I would see the day when you couldn't saunter into the local tavern and not light up. Oh, the times they are a changin'. The pharmaceutical companies are now pushing Chantix. It does have a rather decent success ratio. Just like all the other drugs, there is quite a long list of side-effects. I used to pay good money to be constipated and dizzy/lightheaded. Glad I don't have to worry about erectile dysfunction. It used to be suave to smoke. Now you are a pariah. Imagine James Dean with a nice patch on his shoulder. Not! Please go easy on the judgment when you see the clusters of people huddled in the rain, the smoke swirling around their exiled beings. Say a prayer, and remember, there was a time when that was the circle everyone wanted to be part of. Trendy. Fashionable. I'm in with the in crowd. We've come a long way baby! I think self-destruction is a personal issue. Depends on your method. Free will is a gift we all possess. What we do with that blessing is what makes each of us unique. Nicotine cravings call like the heroin monkey. The opiate demon and I made peace quite a few blue moons ago. Tobacco? When the automatic drip of the coffeemaker starts and I smell the aroma of the toasty roast, my hand start groping for that pack. Where the hell are my cigarettes? Dammit. "What? You ran out of yours in the middle of the night and smoked mine?" Great, fucking great! Sorry, I have to get dressed and go out now. I need a cigarette.

You've got a friend

How do you define a friend? I have spent many years amongst many folks. The older I have become, the less I use the word friend. I realized there are many people you associate with, or converse with, but that doesn't give them the title of "your friend"..Try going to jail and see how many people accept your collect call..you will find out quickly. I am going to be 42 next month and I can say I probably have two real friends. It is not the quantity, quality is what is important. The two aforementioned friends know me, the good, the bad and the ugly. They are still here. Through all the bullshit and insanity. We have all evolved during the years. Seen each others kids grow up, our husbands get wider, instead of hitting the gym we swap great recipes. My one friend was around when we both wore the trendy Jordache Jeans and yes, we fit into a size 5. That was a long time ago. I doubt those jeans could button anymore. I value the few friends I have. I treasure them. I know who held my hand when they were pumping my stomach because I was positive I wanted to die. Nowadays I listen. Everyone seems to use the term friendship rather loosely. I don't. It is too special to toss around like a basketball. I am blessed in my relationships. I am glad to have people who love me and I make a point of giving myself freely in my friendships. Ok, getting rather sappy here..I do have my moments of sugary sweetness. Must sign off..getting nauseous, lol...Be a good friend...

Greed, oh lovely greed..

I found this story amidst this mornings news and thought this was interesting. Ironically if the two people originally involved could have been mature and not involved lawyers, they both would have wound up with a nice sum of money and everyone would have been happy. Didn't work out that way...


Cash found in Ohio house's walls becomes nightmare
news-general-20081108-House.Hidden.Money

In this undated handout photo released by Bob Kitts, contractor Kitts, left,...
Sun Nov 9, 6:20 AM EST
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CLEVELAND — A contractor who found $182,000 in Depression-era currency hidden in a bathroom wall has ended up with only a few thousand dollars, but he feels some vindication.

The windfall discovery amounted to little more than grief for contractor Bob Kitts, who couldn't agree on how to split the money with homeowner Amanda Reece.

It didn't help Reece much, either. She testified in a deposition that she was considering bankruptcy and that a bank recently foreclosed on one of her properties.

And 21 descendants of Patrick Dunne — the wealthy businessman who stashed the money that was minted in a time of bank collapses and joblessness — will each get a mere fraction of the find.

"If these two individuals had sat down and resolved their disputes and divided the money, the heirs would have had no knowledge of it," said attorney Gid Marcinkevicius, who represents the Dunne estate. "Because they were not able to sit down and divide it in a rational way, they both lost."

Kitts was tearing the bathroom walls out of an 83-year-old home near Lake Erie in 2006 when he discovered two green metal lockboxes suspended inside a wall below the medicine chest, hanging from a wire. Inside were white envelopes with the return address for "P. Dunne News Agency."

"I ripped the corner off of one," Kitts said during a deposition in a lawsuit filed by Dunne's estate. "I saw a 50 and got a little dizzy."

He called Reece, a former high school classmate who had hired him for a remodeling project.

They counted the cash and posed for photographs, both grinning like lottery jackpot winners.

But how to share? She offered 10 percent. He wanted 40 percent. From there things went sour.

A month after The Plain Dealer reported on the case in December 2007, Dunne's estate got involved, suing for the right to the money.

By then there was little left to claim.

Reece testified in a deposition that she spent about $14,000 on a trip to Hawaii and had sold some of the rare late 1920s bills. She said about $60,000 was stolen from a shoe box in her closet but testified that she never reported the theft to police.

Kitts said Reece accused him of stealing the money and began leaving him threatening phone messages. Marcinkevicius doesn't believe the money was stolen but said he couldn't prove otherwise.

Reece's phone number has been disconnected, and her attorney Robert Lazzaro did not return a call seeking comment. There were no court records showing that Reece had filed for bankruptcy.

Kitts said he lost a lot of business because media reports on the case portrayed him as greedy, but he feels vindicated by the court's decision to give him a share.

"I was not the bad guy that everybody made me out to be," Kitts said. "I didn't do anything wrong."

He's often asked why he didn't keep his mouth shut and pocket the money. He says he wasn't raised that way.

"It was a neat experience, something that won't happen again," Kitts said. "In that regard, it was pretty fascinating; seeing that amount of money in front of you was breathtaking. In that regard, I don't regret it.

"The threats and all — that's the part that makes you wish it never happened."

Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
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