Gas Can Scam


Working as a substitute teacher for a brief time I was amused at the excuses young people would give for not having their homework in on time. The dog ate it, somebody hit a tree taking out a power line so they had no electricity to run it off. Or my favorite, my grandmother was sick. If I had believed half the bad luck stories my kids told me, I would have thought someone had stolen all their rabbit feet, broken every mirror in their house and been terrorized by crazed unicorns. Their stories were never convincing!

If you’ve driven up to the pumps lately you’re well aware that the prices have gone as high as a politician’s promises. It never ceases to amaze me the stories the oil refineries tell to justify our wallet gouging.

I have been buying gas for over three decades and if it wasn’t so angering it would be amusing. I imagine greedy executives sitting in a boardroom with a Rolodex of excuses with one man saying, “Spin the thing so we can tell the press which excuse to run with this week.” The problem is, they’ve used the same excuses for so long, they now lack imagination.

Like a soap opera producer that uses a kidnapping or brain tumor amnesia plot for the umpteenth time, we have to hear this week that refineries are shifting from winter blend to summer blend so inventory is low. Really? Summer blend? Considering the northern part of the country won’t see a blade of grass until May, and Vermonters this morning took 30 minutes to chop their dogs free from fire hydrants because it was below zero, are you kidding?

“Okay Plan B, let’s tell them we had a refinery fire or that we are closing plants for annual maintenance. This irritates me as much as road crews blocking off all lanes but one during Thanksgiving rush hour. Why now?

No, I see oil executives the same way I see car mechanics. As soon as they see me, no matter what my car’s problem, I envision them calling their wive’s and saying, “Honey, book the cruise, we just had a sucker come in.” The oil execs finish each day by boasting, “The American people don’t realize that they’re a bunch of rubes”

I think as an American, if there are hearings on these executives and politicians concerning all their shenanigans, I want the character Eyore from Winnie the Pooh to speak for me. His attitude after all this, sounds like mine, unenthusiastic. And frankly, a talking donkey is the only character these people could ever understand.

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Groan…I Got the Answer Wrong Again!


There is nothing more horrifying than being asked a question by your wife and you are clueless to it’s answer. Or maybe the answer is obvious but your deathly afraid of making it known. I know you know the kind of question I’m referring. The kind where she comes out of the bedroom in a new dress and says, “Does this make my backside look huge?” And with a trembling voice you respond, “Compared to what?” That’s when you know the romantic evening you had planned has now gone up in flames like the Hindenburg.

I fancy myself as a romantic at times. But if you listened to my wife, I think she believes that I have all the romance of a dog groomer. I’m grateful her bark is worse than her bite. When we walked down the aisle 29 years ago and professed our love for each other, I never recalled that the vows included the words, “Will you be as suave as James Bond, and as romantic as Fabio in a yogurt commercial?”

While getting ready to go out recently, I missed the sequence where she longingly and wistfully stared in the mirror and pined for the days when she was vivaciously young. Turning to me as I walked into the bedroom, she wanted reassurance and asked, “Does my crows feet look bad?” Oblivious to where she was going with her line of questioning, I responded, “No, besides no one will notice if you’re wearing closed toed shoes.” The lump on my head only lasted three days after that comment.

I’m reminded of a truth that is found in a popular story. A young bride scared on her wedding day, stood trembling at the church doors. She didn’t know if she would have the courage to continue. Her mother sensing her hesitancy said, “You must compartmentalize the wedding service.” She advised, “You must think only of the aisle and walking down it. Say to yourself quietly, “aisle”. Second, half way down the aisle look toward the altar and say “altar”. Finally, listen to the music and the designated hymn. When you hear the hymn, ascend the stage and grasp your groom’s hand. You’ll be fine and remain focused if you say all three of these words as you come down the center aisle”

Moments later as the doors of the sanctuary swung open and the bride walked down the aisle. Family and friends began to snicker as she inadvertently spoke a little too loudly the all important words she was to repeat. “Aisle, Altar, Hymn. I’ll alter him.”

My wife’s ambition of altering me into becoming her dream man may still be decades away. Just yesterday she asked me, “how come you don’t buy me flowers anymore. I blurted out, ” I almost did today, but the light turned green.”

I recovered from that exchange so all’s not lost. I still have a date with a cute little blond this weekend. I’m camping with the family dog.

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Immigration Legislation


I was standing in line at my local Walmart, waiting to send money to one of my “needy” children. As is usually the case, the money center offered but one employee despite the fact that there were ten of us waiting in line. As the line crept slowly forward, it passed the desk and forms needed to wire your money. I stepped two paces out of line, filled out the paperwork and returned to the spot I had left.

Faster than a response in announcing “free food and drinks” at a fraternity house, a larger than life woman with a voice to match shouted at me to get behind her. She shouted, “You cut the line, get behind me!!!” I politely endeavored to express the fact that I had waited longer than her, but to no avail. She continued her loud and very public rant. Without anyone else vouching for me that indeed I had had an existing spot, I sheepishly walked to the rear of the line to start my long wait again. It was the only thing I could do to keep her from stroking out. Besides, she was so large that if she jumped on me and squished me, I would have been enveloped in total darkness and my world would have been devoid of sound. My point is, try to cut a line at Disney World or a Black Friday sale, and you’re either pummeled by an angry mob or burly security guards.

This week a “bi-partisan” group of Senators unveiled an immigration plan that was roundly defeated in 2007. In fact, the bill now being offered is virtually identical to the one that shut down the Senate switchboard call center six years ago in protest. Why do they want to try it again? Because they think, you and I have forgotten. The bill calls for an immediate 11-million persons instant path to US citizenship.

What could go wrong, let’s assess the benefits:

  • Everyone knows the Social Security Administration is flush with cash, lets add another 11-million to the rolls.
  • The Obamacare mandates will never cause a budget overrun, lets squeeze some more individuals on this generous program.
  • The Democrats will have 10.9-million new voters.
  • I love automated call center messages. Now I can hear press 1 for English, Press 2 for Spanish the rest of my life.

However, let’s not forget those individuals who have been waiting years to go through immigration the proper way. For these unfortunate souls, the proposed new law (while they remain waiting) would be like getting the wrong door on the game show “Let’s Make A Deal.” Instead of getting the trip to Maui, you get a load of fertilizer.

I do believe we need immigration reform. But can we start in a few basic areas first? Rather than strip searching and making me cough at the airport, why not close our nation’s borders? Why must I always acquiesce when the government passes new laws that infringe on my rights, when our nation’s doors remain wide open?

I also believe the American immigrant wannabes already in line, ( like waiting at an amusement park), need to be given first preference. And Senators, if this is too difficult for you to understand, study how Disney World is operated. Even at that Micky Mouse venue, they offer a Speedy Pass. Oh, and the gates around the park are closed too. I wonder why?

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Are There Tips for Looking Younger?


I was perusing the web the other day and an article caught my eye. The article stated, “Five tips for looking younger”. I was intrigued. And why not? In the past six years I have had the privilege of being in the company of wives of friends of mine who are over 20 years older than me. Each time as I was being introduced, individuals made the unfortunate error of thinking I was married to them. I’m not against being married to a 70+ year old woman, but I can wait for this honor.

I recall the heady days of my youth when it would be a compliment in high school, when some college girl would think I was a collegian too. Now I have to bite my tongue when I’m offered the senior menu at my favorite restaurant. This has been happening since I was 38. But I’ve learned that I’m cheaper than I am proud. I take the discount!

When did I go from hip to hip replacement? When did I trade in carrot sticks for jello molds? I think I know. My reality check on growing old occurred some years ago in my early 40’s, when a beautiful young woman who seemed mesmerized by my good looks and cute stories blurted out, “You remind me of my Dad.”I’m sure she felt she was offering me the highest compliment, but why did I feel at that moment that I needed to test drive a walker with the tennis ball feet?

Reverting back to the looking younger article, it listed five things to achieve it; 1. wear a scarf to minimize your neck waddle. Unless I fly a Sopwith Camel, that would be a NO. 2. Eat Oysters for the zinc. Sorry, I try to stay away from foods that have the texture and appearance of a loogie. 3. Act the way you want to look. Ha, that’ll be the day. Does bell bottoms ring a bell? 4. Keep your sense of humor. Are you kidding? I laugh hysterically every time I put my bathing suit on. 5. Blow dry your hair. Is it possible to do anything with three strands?

Oh, I’m not totally defeated. I can still brag that women under the age of 25 tell me I look hot. Except it only occurs in July when I’m mowing the lawn and the temperature outside is over 100 degrees.

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