Category Archives: Life

The rule of three…

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You always hear the old saying that bad things come in threes… here are mine so far for this week:

#1 Jeep overheating… probably needs a new radiator. OK, I can deal with that.

#2 No hot water pressure in my shower… annoying, but the plumbers were here all afternoon and everything seems to be working again.

#3 Home security system on the fritz… Called alarm company… They are out of business.

This is the point in the week where my blood pressure probably recorded a new personal best and I should consider spending the next few days sitting in the dark watching trashy television, eating chips, and drinking ever so tasty rum drinks.

Ever have one of those days when you’re convinced the world is conspiring against you?

“Ambivalent” should be a 4-letter word…

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I was always under the impression that taking a vacation was suppose to leave you refreshed and ready to take on the world again. At the moment, though, all I am feeling is pure, unadulterated ambivalence. I can’t get back into the routine… and worse yet, I really don’t give a shit. Forgive me… this is kind of a new experience for me. Usually, I want to run a hundred miles an hour with my hair on fire, but lately all I really want to do is sit in my big comfy chair and watch Buffy on DVD.

I’m not going to lie to you people… I’ve been doing the bare minimum to scrape by at work and really not even doing that for my class. And I find the whole experience a little disturbing. I want to be the guy who has lots of fire in his belly. I want to get back to knowing the all the answers before anyone gets around to asking the questions. I’ve got to get my head back in the game. Balance has never been my forte and once the stress level cranks back up a few notches, I think things will sort themselves out.

Note to self…

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It’s good to be reminded from time to time that at some level, I’m basically a hermit. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing… Just one of those little personality quirks I’ve come to actually appreciate in time. Every time I start to think that maybe I’m missing something, life throws a gentle nudge to put things back in the proper perspective. Nice work life. Nice work, indeed.

A question for the masses…

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This is probably one of those things that’s “too soon” to rant about, but I’m looking for some guidance from you good and wise people here on the internet. I want to know what the hell goes through someone’s head when they wake up one morning and decide that it’s a good day to go on a shooting rampage at their local college, high school, box social, cafeteria, or other public place. I have a vague recollection of being in high school, and sure, it has its moments of pure suck. I did the college thing and for the most part had a fantastic time although it too had its moments. I also grew up with guns in the house, watching violent movies, and playing early versions of the now-infamous “first person shooter” video games. Somehow, I and everyone I know managed to survive this experience without shooting up 50+ of our friends, acquaintances, and associates. Come to think of it, we didn’t shoot anyone. The worst thing that ever happened was the occasional fist-fight. Brutal? Yes, of course. Deadly? No, not so much.

I’m too damned young to start telling stories that start off “well, when I was in school…” But still, I want someone to fill me in on what the hell has changed in the last 8-10 years, so if you’ve got the answers, now would be the time.

Making it…

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I’ve been setting goals for myself for as long as I can remember. When I first started working, I figured I would have “made it” in life when I could started eating lunch every afternoon without bringing it in a brown bag. Checked that box back in 2003. Having reached that point, I knew I would really “make it” when I could walk into a car dealership, point to the car I wanted and drive off without worrying about the price. That box was checked last year. So far, 2007 has been a year of “making it.” Buying my first real house after years of condo and apartment living was a landmark, no question about it, but that’s not really what let me know that I’d “made it” one more time. I knew I’d “made it” in 2007 when the crew of Mexicans showed up at 7:30 this morning and mowed my lawn.

There be plague here…

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They say that stress if bad for your body, but I’ve found that it’s during those periods when I am under the least stress that I am most susceptible to illness. Over the last few days, I’ve been winding down a lot of my work and getting everything to a point where I can leave it on “pause” for the next two weeks while I’m on vacation. Wouldn’t you know that between the goddamned apocalyptic pollen count here in the south and the upper respiratory crud that we have been passing around the office for the last month, I’ve managed to get myself sick. Although it’s nothing serious and I fully expect to be back in fine fiddle by the time we leave for Italy, it’s just one of those minor inconveniences that combine to agitate the living shit out of me. I’ll take the weekend to rest up and OD on orange juice, but in the meantime, turn back, for there be plague here.

Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong… or The Big Picture

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Let me give you the set up on this one… I am leaving for Italy next Tuesday and will be missing all of the last week of my current grad class. Not a problem. The instructor knows I’ll be gone, blessed it, and even gave me some delightfully evil ideas about how to subvert the electronic attendance tracking system, so I could still get credit for the week.

Knowing that I would be missing the final team assignment, I made a proposal to my teammates last night that I would be willing to take on this week’s assignment solo and post a rough draft for everyone to edit as a way to compensate the group for not contributing to the product next week. Fine. Great. Everyone loved the idea to more or less balance the workload over the next two weeks… That is everyone by the one chick who thinks the purpose of an MBA is to “actually learn something.”

Personally, I see the purpose of the course and the overall MBA program as much more fundamental: Pass. Simply put, it’s a resume line I need to move on with the next steps of my career. Sure, I am learning a good deal along the way, but at the same time, I live in a world where the phrase of the day is “go along to get along.” Honestly, if any of us were really all that serious, we’d be at Wharton or Tuck… not at the damned University of Phoenix… and online to boot. So before you get all high and mighty about diminishing your educational opportunities, let’s consider the big picture for a bit… bitch.

High speed…

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Memphis is a wonderful town and has been a place of many firsts for me. Friday night added another to that list… I got to see my first ever high speed chase. Having watched much of the trainwreck unfold in my rear-view mirror, I was pleased to be able to watch the show to its logical conclusion… The suspect jumped a curb, scattered a group of pedestrians/potential drug, dealers and did a header into a telephone pole… and then jumped out of the car and immediately fell over.

This won’t surprise anyone, but I cackled like a hyena the rest of the way home. I love it when bad things happen to stupid people.

The things we sacrifice…

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I’m reminded tonight of that which we give up in order to get the other things we want. As I recall, in economics, this idea of tradeoffs is partially defended as opportunity cost; the cost of the thing we forgo to achieve the next best option. Life is a tradeoff for all of us. Making one decision influences and determines what other decisions we will have the opportunity to make in the future; way piles on to way and what is lost is why we headed down our particular path in the first place.

Do you suppose we ever go so far in one direction that other options are closed off forever? The opportunity cost for our actions becoming an absolute? Is there some great moment of realization where each of our false steps is illuminated? Is there room for contrition? Or will self-recriminations and doubt end in the light of day?

26 Years, 10 Months, 23 Days…

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On weekend mornings, the background noise in my houses is most often the FoxNews business report. One of their major talking points for the weekend just passed was the impending collapse of Social Security and what it would take to put that program on a solid fiduciary footing. If my calculations are correct, I can retire from government service in 26 years, 10 months, and 23 days. With that kind of time horizon, I don’t know why anyone in my age bracket would even contemplate Social Security in their calculations on what they need to do in order to retire comfortably. Without a massive infusion of cash from a tax increase, a dramatic reduction in benefits, and an increase in the age when the “pay out” begins, the program is, for all practical purposes, a dead man walking.

Even if some semblance of the program is salvaged, those of us in our 20s and 30s can count on receiving only a return of pennies on every dollar we “contribute” to the plan. Since it’s a government program, we don’t have the choice to “opt out” and invest that portion of our retirement into a sector that actually provides a positive return on investment. Effectively, every dollar our generation is forced to contribute to Social Security is a dollar that is lost to us and is nothing more than a tax by another name.

I was asked not long ago what I would do to fix the system… I don’t want to fix it. I want to tear the mother down. Sixty years ago, Social Security was a stop-gap measure that has been elevated to the lofty status of an entitlement. I don’t want to fix it. I want the government to allow me to be accountable for my own retirement planning and stay out of my way. I don’t want to fix it. I want Americans to start taking responsibility for what happens to them.

I don’t know how or when exactly we became a country of whiners, of men and women too infirm of mind to make our own decisions, of people terrified of the successes and failures that come with making your own decisions and being held accountable for them. If you are in the dawn of your career, it is your responsibility to make yourself smart on your options. Contribute to 401k, Roth, or other investment vehicles until it hurts. If you don’t make any provisions for how you plan to live out (and pay for) your golden years, don’t come bitching to me when you’re eating cat food and living under a bridge. I’ll be too busy playing golf to give a shit.