?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Bloggy New Year

Some years I make all kinds of resolutions. Even categorize them and print them out. Lose weight, write more, remember to take your vitamins, use coupons. Other years I wing it.

I’m not winging it in 2012. Rather, I hope to spend the year writing. I know, I know, I’ve set this as a goal before, but this year is different. First, I’m staying put. Given that I’ve moved thirty-four times in twice as many years, this means I won’t get distracted with packing and unpacking and decorating.

Second, I no longer am gainfully employed. I quit my job the end of July and told myself I’d take the rest of the year off. Traveled to northern Canada and Colorado and New Mexico and upstate New York. Reacquainted with Scarlett O’Hara and Alice in Wonderland. Finished some crochet projects that had patiently waited their turns. Swam three days a week and almost mastered the butterfly.

But my writing languished. My blogging ebbed to a trickle. I sent only ten queries out the entire 2011. As December came and went I chastised myself and decided that 2012 is the year I shall attempt not only to write more but also to send manuscripts out into the world. The first part I love; it’s the second that is tedious. I just have to remember that author John Grisham was rejected over one hundred times. Which means I have ninety to go.

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River City Grill

When we travel we try to eat dinner at a local restaurant, usually recommended by the person at the desk in the motel where we’re staying. Most times, the experience has proven enjoyable. This evening the River City Grill was no exception, although the cuisine had some unusual combinations.

You knew right away it was going to be more along the line of bar food rather than fine dining because there was no E on the end of Grill. I’ve found that’s a reliable clue to the ambience inside. There were also two humongous flat panels TV screens that flickered through the front windows as we approached the door. Once inside, Earl chose a table in front of one of them. “All the men do that,” said the hostess, who had originally tried to seat us in another area as he veered hypnotically toward the college basketball game in progress.

The menu was five pages, top to bottom, of the chef’s best combinations. As he often does, Earl asked the server what her favorite sandwich is. “The Monte Cristo,” she said. So Earl, always one the lookout for a new culinary experience as long as it’s not healthy, ordered it. After deliberating between the chicken and the fish, I chose the trout almandine; and we settled in to watch Michigan struggle with fifth ranked Duke.

Eventually the server returned and set our entrйes down. Earl’s Monte Cristo hung over the side of his plate. It was golden brown, almost completely round, and had been deep fried to form what only could be described as a protective crust around the entire thing. It reminded me of the basketball on the big screen, although the chef had cut it into four quarters. Steam rose from it like a Michigan player’s prayer.

Then the French fried sweet potatoes and the onion rings arrived, as well as my trout. Earl dug in while I pushed the almonds around my plate. Neither of us finished our meals, not because they didn’t taste good but because they were too big. My advice to anyone eating at the River City Grill in Sterling, Colorado, is to share.

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Priceline.com

I’m sure you’ve heard of Priceline.com with William Shatner as its spokesman. He practically karate chops his way through steep prices on airlines, hotels, and rental cars to offer bargains galore. Earl has a friend who swears by the website, so naturally Earl wanted to try it.

Translation: Earl wanted me to try it for him. The idea was that since we’ve become interested in road trips, this might be a way to keep motel costs down. I understood this theoretically; at the same time, the fine print on the Priceline.com site bothered me. You never discover the name of the motel/hotel chain you’ve made a reservation at until you’ve provided your credit card information and the card has been charged. It’s like Russian roulette with your sleep habits.

On this particular road trip, we’ve tried Priceline.com twice and, if we were baseball players, would be batting .500. Last night we stayed at a lovely Marriott Hotel in Des Moines, IA, at a most discounted price. We had dinner in the hotel’s restaurant and rode the elevator to the seventh floor for a great night’s sleep. Tonight, however, we are in a Ramada Inn in Kearney, NE, that has a variety of problems, the least of which is that it is being remodeled. “Wet Paint” signs adorn the halls. There was a restaurant, but it wasn’t open. There was no seventh floor; instead we were in Room 103 with a window onto the parking lot. The television video worked, but the audio didn’t; and neither did one of the lamps.

Yes, it is warm and dry and cheap. And, yes, Earl has rolled over and gone to sleep as I write this. And it cost half as much at the Marriott. But I’m still skeptical about Priceline.com. It seems to me it supports the adage that “You get what you pay for,” regardless of whether you pay full price or a discounted one.

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Back to the I-80

We’re on the road again; this time it’s our annual Thanksgiving holiday trip to Denver, Colorado. Originally, we flew from our home to visit relatives in the Mile High City. But in recent years, we’ve taken to the I-80 interstate. And we’ve learned a lot.

Of course, if you want to make time you set your speed control at seventy miles an hour and never veer from the course. That’s what we did when we first started driving to Colorado. But now we meander. Instead of taking two days to drive eleven hundred miles, we’re taking four. It’s not that we’ve turned into wimps – although age is becoming a factor – but rather there is so much to see along the way. We’ve decided to see it.

Today, for instance we paid our annual pilgrimage visit to the I-80 truck stop just inside the Iowa state line at Exit 285. It’s Earl’s opportunity to eat chicken fried steak, and he relished every bite along with the pepper gravy. Thirty miles down the road we visited the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library. We’d heard from other Iowans that it wasn’t to be missed, even though Hoover himself was blamed for bringing on the Great Depression single-handedly.

However, there was a lot more to the man than the fact that he was in the wrong time at the wrong place. Both before and after his one term as President, Hoover acquitted himself with great accomplishments and kindnesses. He labored tirelessly to relief such human problems as hunger during and after the two world wars. He was known for his philanthropy and his ability to get things done.

President Hoover and his wife, Lou Henry Hoover, are buried on the grounds of the Presidential Library. Theirs are modest tombstones, with only their names, birth, and death dates showing. There is no giant statue, no huge stone. No monuments to his accomplishments. Just a peaceful setting amid prairie grasses.

Tonight, we’re in Des Moines, IA, watching a football game with more adventures along I-80 tomorrow.

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‘Tis the Season

We’re coming to the end of the year and my telephone is bearing the brunt of it. So is my email account. I don’t know what to do.

My landline is on the “Do Not Call” list, but I still get solicitations. In the past couple days, I’ve heard twice from the American Heart Association and twice from an automated program that wants to know how I will vote in next year’s election. As if I already know! I’ve also heard from some organization that promises a trip to Bermuda for answering a few simple questions.

My email is stuffed with promises of free shipping if I spend a certain amount by a certain date. While these promises don’t require that I reveal my political persuasion, they are still annoying. On top of it, I visited two local chains recently – Meijer and Walgreen’s – and was subjected to Christmas music that would make elevator Christmas music cringe. And it isn’t even Thanksgiving!

I understand that politicians, nonprofits, and retail stores area struggling this year. Money is a dear commodity. But ramping up the solicitations and blasting the holiday music do not make me more inclined to spend. In fact, the reverse occurs.

It’s a conundrum. While I intellectually understand the plight of the non-profit, the politician, and the retail store, I don’t want to be bombarded with any kind of solicitation before its time. For the non-profit, contact me once a year, no more. For the politician, contact me never. And for the retail store, when it comes to Christmas get in touch after Thanksgiving. Otherwise, I’ll hang up on all of you. And delete your emails too.

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Helpless

Verizon and I are still battling about our account, the quality of the phones involved, the costs, and the lack of customer service. In all instances, I am losing. About the only resource I have left is to complain publicly in the hope that others will not take time to switch from their current phone companies, regardless of how unhappy they are.

I assure you Verizon is not the answer. I won’t detail the issues here again. I originally wrote about them on October 11 (Feel free to review that blog.) and it’s simply been more of the same since then.

There was one bright spot, however. When I visited the local Verizon store yesterday to pay my current bill, the receipt I was given had a website on it where you could rate your experience. Why not, I thought. Sure enough, I was asked to grade the current trip to the store on a scale of one to ten and then write why I chose that particular rating.

I was polite but honest, critical, and thorough. The site said someone would call me if I had problems, but I doubt someone will. I’ll just be written off as a whining customer. And that’s what I’ll be until September 2, 2013 when my current contract is up.

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Hooked

I realize it’s election day, but I’m not particularly involved. I don’t live in a voting district that has cliff-hanger issues on the ballot; in fact, I’m not sure there even is a ballot.

So what am I hooked on? Sad to admit, it’s “Dancing with the Stars.” And it’s all because a former neighbor watches this program faithfully. When we get together every Monday night, it’s a topic of conversation. And, over the past few weeks, I’ve become engaged.

My personal favorite to win the entire competition is Ricky Lake, she of daytime TV, although I also like the military veteran who received burns over forty percent of his body and is giving Ricky a run for her money.

I hope this season’s finale is a cliff-hanger – one that stretches the dancing imagination — although I must admit I’ve never voted for any contestant in this season or past shows. It just goes to show my voting record needs improving.

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Great Idea

I received an email from a friend a couple days ago titled “Christmas 2011 – Birth of a New Tradition.” It struck me as such a good idea that I am going against my policy of cutting and pasting items from elsewhere into this blog. But I couldn’t have said the following any better, so I’m copying the first few paragraphs and encouraging you to visit the link at the end of this entry for the entire message.

As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high gear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods — merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor. This year will be different. This year Americans will give the gift of genuine concern for other Americans. There is no longer an excuse that, at gift giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands. Yes there is!

It’s time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?

Everyone — yes EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates from your local American hair salon or barber? Gym membership? It’s appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some health improvement. Who wouldn’t appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, American owned detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a book of gift certificates.

To read the rest,go to: too:http://www.vibrantnation.com/work-money/christmas-2011-birth-of-a-new-tradition/

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Trick or Treat, Redux

October is long gone and Halloween is gone with it. Still, I promised a follow-up to my Halloween experiences. And even at this late date, what struck me most was how polite the children and teens were. The early learning school ghosts and goblins were prompted by their teachers to say, “Trick or Treat” and then “Thank you.” The youngsters in the evening had no coaches, but they were equally polite. I was duly impressed.

The rest of the week, however, was crazy, particularly with the current clutch of Republican presidential hopefuls fielding questions about their economic plans and their past sexual harassments. It was also tense in Greece as the bailout was on; then it was off; then it was who knows?

In the middle of this, Andy Rooney, professional curmudgeon, passed away. I am saddened, because I liked him. And Kim Kardashian, professional something, filed for divorce after less than three months of marriage. I am not saddened; I am disgusted. And I’m also one of those who thought the $10 million wedding was a publicity stunt in the first place.

It seems Halloween was the high point of the previous week, especially since “Thank you” was on great display. Could there be a lesson here?

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Trick or Treat

Halloween is four days away, and usually I avoid it like the plague. Earl and I darken our house and go out to a leisurely dinner somewhere until the proscribed time for Trick or Treat is over. Then we skulk home and hope no eggs have been thrown at our front door.

This year is different. It’s not that I’m embracing the tradition, but I am at least attempting to participate.

The early learning school across the street from where I live has invited the residents of my community to come Monday, October 31, at 1 PM and assemble in the gym. We’re to bring enough candy for 110 children who will parade in groups around us with their goodie bags. I know this school; I volunteered there to read to the children one year and loved every minute. So that memory hooked me. I’ll be there with the 230 pieces of candy I bought yesterday at Wal-Mart (220 for the kids, ten for me).

Then a friend of mine will be alone in the evening, since her husband is out of town. She has a very friendly dog and a lot of neighborhood children, so I invited myself over to help. I’m not a dog person, so she can hold her pet while I dispense the goodies to the kids. Or perhaps this is an opportunity to learn a little more about four-legged friends. Which means I can play with the dog and my two-legged friend can play with the children.

A report will be forthcoming . . .

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