A Recycling Program That Only Recycles Working Things, or "Cash for Ice Cubes."

I tried to recycle an old chest freezer today. It doesn't work and we wanted to get rid of it. Sadly, leaving things in the back yard to return to the earth has gone out of vogue. She Who Must Be Obeyed came across a website that promised to take old refrigerators and freezers and recycle them for you. They would pick them up and give you $50 to boot! One little thing in the requirements was bothersome to me. The appliance had to be in running condition. I thought that it must be a misprint. No one is so stupid as to trade in a perfectly good appliance for one that is going to cost them more. I called and it wasn't a typo. Only bureaucrats can envision programs like this. Only a person who isn't in the habit of paying much in taxes would come up with a scheme that takes money out of someone's pocket and put it in the pocket of another. The "Cash for Clunkers" program was a stupid piece of legislation if ever there was one.

"On August 26 the DoT reported that the program resulted in 690,114
dealer transactions submitted requesting a total of $2.877 billion in
rebates.^[1][11] At the end of the program Toyota accounted for 19.4 % of sales, followed by General Motors with 17.6 %, Ford with 14.4 %, Honda with 13.0 %, and Nissan with 8.7%.^[1][12]
It led to a gain in market share for Japanese and Korean manufacturers
at the expense of American car makers, with only Ford not taking a
significant hit.^[13] Meanwhile, Japan's own program excluded U.S. cars.^[14] The Department of Transportation also reported that the average fuel efficiency
of trade-ins was 15.8 mpg (miles per gallon), compared to 24.9 mpg for
the new cars purchased to replace them, translating to a 58% fuel
efficiency improvement.^[1]

A study published after the program by researchers at the University of Delaware
concluded that for each vehicle trade, the program had a net cost of
approximately $2,000, with total costs outweighing all benefits by $1.4
billion.^[15][16] Another study by researchers at the University of Michigan
found that the program improved the average fuel economy of all
vehicles purchased by 0.6 mpg in July 2009 and by 0.7 mpg in August
2009.^[17] " - from Wikipedia Car Allowance Rebate System.

Why am I quoting an article about Cash for Clunkers? It's just my joyful little way of pointing out that government programs that benefit Corporations are probably not a good deal for people in general.

I have a feeling that two parties were hurt in this "Cash for Ice-Cubes" scheme. The taxpayer was obviously hurt, and the sap who thought they were getting a great deal spent money they probably hadn't planned on spending, and didn't need to spend. Who benefited? Well, all those legislators and bureaucrats who feel bad about drawing a check for doing nothing got to feel good about doing something - anything, and manufacturers got to sell more crap people didn't really need. Whenever business and government get together on something, put your hand over your wallet right fast!

If we hadn't been moving, that freezer might have been re-purposed as a cold smoker. Now I have to find a place to bring it for disposal/recycling.

It's Amazing What Can Be Ignored In Two Weeks!

It has been over two weeks since I last saw my darling wife. It has been lonely, frustrating and less than productive at times. It's not that I haven't been doing things, it's just that, over all, less is getting done. I feel like I'm doing more, but without her here to help, and, quite honestly, to do, less gets done. In fact, the list of things I haven't gotten done seems to be overwhelming.

Much of this is my fault. I am a late night person and have been since I worked second shift when we lived in Chicago. I seem to not be able to go to bed before midnight except on rare occasions. Essentially, I reach a point of exhaustion and then collapse into a comatose state. It isn't easy to get work done around the house when you are in that comatose state!

The Blame Game set aside, I was able to do a fair job cleaning the downstairs, meals and shopping were done, though Eldest would complain that I wasn't fastidious and quick enough. I cleaned out the refrigerator which desperately needed to be cleaned. The yard was mowed, except for a small spot I forgot about. All of the appointments were kept, and we were on time for them. I think where I really fell down on the job was in keeping the house tidy.

And tonight is the night she comes back. She Who Must Be Obeyed returns tonight, and I am not ready. Rather the house is not ready. I am so ready for her to return, I am sure I will jump for joy when I see her. Not because I want help cleaning the house. I miss her. I love her. I am incomplete without her.

The Brutal Honesty Of Perspective Accepted.

I was running an errand for She Who Must Be Obeyed today, and as I was waiting in reception, I could hear the dulcet tones of Mick Jagger over the speakers in the office. I was tapping out the rhythm on the counter as I waited. It was taking the receptionist a long while to complete our request. As I was grooving to the Rolling Stones, I turned around to face the reception area, and my eyes fell on an older gentleman who also seemed to be grooving on the tune. His feet were tapping to the music. A broad smile crossed my face as I realized that The Rolling Stones were to me what Perry Como or Frank Sinatra was to my mother. Taking that thought a little further I realized that another way of looking at it is that Katy Perry is to my daughter what the Rolling Stones are to me.

Surprisingly, as I thought more about this, the more I realized that the music of these very divergent styles have something in common (Ok. Maybe not Perry Como, but mom really liked him!). If you've ever read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, you might recall the author's discussion of an aspect of Art that he referred to as "Quality." It was the distinguishing thing between art and not art. As I recall, it was a very confusing thing to a 17 year old boy. I prefer to call it "lasting power." If music is revered over a couple of generations, it has lasting power. For me, it is Mel Torme, Tony Bennett and a lot of the Big Bands. It is music that transcends "pop culture," or maybe it just translates well between generations. Will Katy Perry be well known 30 years from now, in 50 years? Who knows! I have the feeling that she just might be one of the few in a generation that is remembered. After all, Firework is a great piece of pop music.

Mail Call For The Organizationally Challenged.

This is the mail from four days of delivery. Monday was Labor Day, hence no delivery just to commemorate how hard public employees work for so little pay and stingy benefits </sarcasm>. Before I spiral out of control down that particular line of thought, I will jerk myself back to the task at hand, which is sorting mail. To the left is the unsorted pile of mail that I have to sort through to determine if it is: 1) worth looking at. 2) worth opening. 3) worth sending to SWMBO in Minnesota, or 4) worth burning. Before my Darling left me, the mail would take care of itself. I don't know how that happened, and she didn't leave any helpful clues to eliminate the Mystery of the Disappearing Mail. I suspect gnomes or elves played a part. Elves aren't near as nice as the story books make them out to be. I tried leaving it out on the counter, hence the four day build up, but it didn't self-sort, nor did the postfairy come and work her magic. Next, I tried the entropy method and threw it all up in the air. I don't think I clearly understand entropy. I tried the Youngest's method of staring at things, trying to bend them to my will - no luck. Eventually I resorted to that time honored yet somewhat less fun method of just getting on with it. As the photo to the right shows, and much to my amazement and dissatisfaction, it worked. Go figure!

I sorted the mail into 5 piles (I love piles!) One was for recycling, catalogs, bills and correspondence, township newspaper, and College propaganda. The propaganda went to Eldest, catalogs and newspaper are currently still on the counter (honesty!), the recycling is where it should be and the good stuff is with the catalogs. Does anyone really expect this lifelong issue to resolve overnight?

It was very therapeutic to get this done, and I felt much better for it. At least I did until the Destructive Duo came home from school and detritus was flung far and wide over the house.

The Unfortunate Gap Between What I Wish And What Is.

When we agreed to provide a car to Eldest, I thought that school year mornings would calm down. After all, there would be no rush to get ready for a bus that waits for no one. All of that stress would melt away into the aether. Why is there such a large gap between what we think will happen and reality? Eldest woke up late and ran about imitating a headless chicken, Youngest was the emotional equivalent of Jack the Ripper this morning, and who suffered for it? It wasn't me. I hide like a coward in my happy place, located somewhere inside me. The solar light, some two feet off of the driveway, certainly paid the price for these two stressed out, emotional wrecks. It is currently flatter than a pancake, and utterly un-saveable, lying in state in the garage. Thankfully, the tufts of decorative grasses managed to leap out of the way, or were just missed by the missile in reverse that Eldest was piloting.

I assume what I am experiencing, without the buffer of my Darling, is the female malady known as, "that time of month." It is the only way to explain the odd behavior coming out of my normally delightful children. I don't like it! Nope! Not one bit. My action plan is as follows: Hide in the basement or the pole barn for the next three or four days. Seriously, I can't do better than that. Reasoning doesn't work when they are in this state of mind (out of mind?) and direct confrontation would put me in the hospital. I'm just going to take a 12-pack of Yuenglings and a family size bag of Doritos out to the pole barn and I'll be fine.

The Homestead Wannabe Moves To Minnesota

Well, in due time we will move. As it stands, we are in the middle of the first week of living apart as a family. "She Who Must Be Obeyed" is living in an apartment in a small town in Minnesota, while the girls and I hold the fort here in New Jersey. As I calculate it, based on a move date of July 5th, 2013, it will have been 305 days since SWMBO left the building. That move date is a sliding figure of course. What this means is that the girls and I have been left without supervision for four full days! The critical things are getting done, as well as important things. School papers are being signed and returned and doctor appointments are being kept. It is the less important things that I always have trouble with.

I forgot to put out the garbage on my first garbage day post-SWMBO. Of course it wasn't just any old garbage. This was a garbage can full of chicken carcass and guts from the chicken dumpling soup I made for the little woman's farewell dinner. Consequently, the garage smells a bit like an over ripe landfill. The girls bravely make their way through the stench both morning and afternoon. I think it may be from convenience rather than bravery. I'm pretty sure they were calculating the number of steps from the garage door as opposed to the front door.

There are now three, soon to be four, days of mail waiting to be sorted. I hate sorting mail. Truth be told, I am a bit of a hoarder, and it just feels wrong to throw out all that crap that someone took so much time to prepare for me. Youngest and I have been very good about getting the newspaper everyday. At least my Darling (SWMBO) doesn't have to fret about piles of newspaper awaiting her bi-weekly return!

I guess no mention of mail is complete without mentioning flat files (things piled aimlessly on any flat spot in the house). Mail is the greatest generator of flat files that I know of, besides books, magazines, papers, electronics and well... stuff. We have been amazingly conservative in our creation of flat files in the absence of our Guide. I have to take my "Atta boys" where I can find them!