scottsbluff – Page 5 – HappyStinkingJoy

A Breakfast With Govenor Dave

This past Friday, I had the honor and the privilege of attending Nebraska Governor Dave Heineman’s Pre-legislative breakfast at the wonderful Gering Civic Center… or something. I was excited that my boss asked me to go, ’cause I figured I could get some good crap for my blog there, and I did.

Dave Heineman is the Republican governor of Nebraska (because Nebraska is ruled by Republicans who vote for Republicans no matter what that Republican really stands for). I am registered as a Republican, but I consider myself more of a So-Stinking-Fed-Up-With-Politics-That-My-Head-Is-Ready-To-Explode-ian” (wish that party existed). Governor Dave has made all kinds of promises to the people (i.e. voters) of western Nebraska and has followed through on so few of them, that I figured this little morning affair would be entertaining. I wasn’t overly disappointed… well, except for the food.

It cost $15 for a member of the Scottsbluff/Gering Chamber of Commerce members to attend this event (more if not a member). The food was provided by The Meat Shoppe. The Meat Shoppe provides all food to all events held at the Gering Civic Center… it’s like part of some contract or something. Many people hold things like wedding receptions and anniversary parties in this location… and if you want food, The Meat Shoppe has to provide it. Needless to say, food from The Meat Shoppe usually isn’t overly spectacular, and Governor Heineman’s event was no exception. Bland scrambled eggs, generic waffles, very greasy sausage patties, and even greasier hash browns were the only food available, and not a bottle of ketchup nor Tabasco were anywhere to be seen.

I recently attended a soiree (see how fancy I’m getting… “affair”… “soiree”… living the high life here in Craphole, Nebraska) for Miss Nebraska that was at the Gering Civic Center. Of course, the food was provided by The Meat Shoppe. Dinner consisted of semi-barbecued crap (chicken and beef), a potato casserole… or something like that (very elegant?!?), coleslaw (best thing they served), and a basket of rolls on each table. Well, our table had 10 people (which almost every table held), and there were 10 rolls in each basket. I like rolls. I usually have 2 or 3 rolls with any meal I eat. One of the rolls from our basket was dropped on the floor, so there was one person at our table who was roll-less. When one of the table-picker-uppers came by (’cause there are no wait-people with The Meat Shoppe… just people who keep asking you if you are done yet), I asked if, perhaps, we could get some more rolls, because one had dropped to the floor. I wanted more, and I know that others did as well… plus there was the one dude who didn’t even get one. The table-picker-upper said, “I’ll check,” and she disappeared. She came back about 5 minutes later and asked, rather snottily, “So, who is it that needs a roll?” Well, no one (including myself) had the balls to say “ME” (including the dude who didn’t get one because one fell to the floor), so the table-picker-upper kind of looked at me like I was a problem-child because I had made the request, and she stormed off… and we were roll-less for the rest of the evening. Seriously, how flipping expensive can those stinking rolls be that you can’t bring out another stinking basket?

My oldest son isn’t a huge barbecue fan, but we talked him into attending this event because we thought it would be… informative or something. The poor kid is starving and was really looking forward to another roll, from which we were banned. The wife looks at the boy and says, “Hold onto your fork and spoon for dessert.” At least he has dessert to look forward to, right? Well, about 5 minutes after refusing to bring us another basket of rolls, the wench from The Meat Shoppe says to the boy, “Are you done with that,” pointing to his plate? He nods. And then she adds, “Go ahead and give me your silverware, too, ’cause there ain’t any dessert or anything.” The boy didn’t weep openly or anything, but I could tell he wanted to. “We’ll pick up something from McDonald’s on our way home,” I reassured him… but we didn’t. Stupid Meat Shoppe. No customer service (at least if you are not the one paying the final bill) and crappy food. I’m sure they were offering a discounted rate or something, because the whole night was a fundraiser for Miss Nebraska to go to the Miss USA thingie in Las Vegas, so I have a feeling that The Meat Shoppe was pitching in (at least they better have been), but come on… if you’re gonna give… GIVE a little dessert. The Meat Shoppe: something to avoid in the Craphandle of Nebraska!

Well… I guess I kind of got sidetracked there, didn’t I? The Meat Shoppe, as you can probably tell, isn’t my favorite and is well deserving of the three-paragraph tirade I afforded it… but it’s my blog, so if you don’t like it, leave. Or stay, because I get back to Governor Heineman here shortly.

Back to Governor Heineman (see, I told you it would be shortly 🙂 ). After the crowd at the Gering Civic Center had forced down the greasy goop that was passed-off as breakfast, Governor Dave got up and gave a little “state of the state” address. I’m going to be doing some quotes from the Governor, and I just want to be all upfront with the fact that the quotes aren’t really “quotes” but more of a paraphrasing/making-stuff-up kind of thing… you know, just trying to give you my biased “gist” of what Dave was trying to say. It’s not like I was taking notes or anything, and this was days ago. After all, I write a little blog… it’s not like I’m a journalist or anything. His speech was all kitty cats and butterflies.

“Nebraska has a 4% unemployment rate… one of the best in the nation.”

“Nebraska has, in a few short years, moved from 45th best to 29th best in attractiveness of taxes charged to businesses… making us a lot more attractive to businesses than we used to be.”

“Everything I do is AWESOME and, even though I am much shorter in person than I’m sure you would suspect, I am the best governor this state has ever had… blah blah blah blah…”

… you get the picture.

So, after the little pep talk about how great things are for the state of Nebraska since good old Dave has been governor, he asks the audience if there are any questions. About a bazillion hands flew up. And Dave took each and every question from every person who wanted to ask a question. You notice that I stated he “took” every question, because, to be 100% honest, I don’t think he actually answered any of the questions posed to him.

voter: “Mr. Governor, the Heartland Expressway is a priority to the people in the panhandle. Once completed, it will link Rapid City to Denver with our community being right in the middle of all of that trade and traffic. When campaigning before the election, you said you would make completion of this project a priority, but there seems to be little if any progress. What are you doing about the Heartland Expressway?”

Governor Dave: “The Heartland Expressway is a priority of mine. I am committed to seeing it come to fruition. Next question?”

another voter: “Yeah, uh, Governor, we are seeing an exodus of people leaving our rural communities. Many of these people are young people who leave to attend college and never come back. The more urban portions of the state are seeing growth while our rural communities are drying up and blowing away. More quality business and quality jobs in our rural communities could help retain our most precious resource: our people. What, if anything, are you doing to help slow or stop this population migration?”

Governor Dave: “Hell, I wouldn’t want to live out here in the sticks, why would our youth be any different? Ya’ll are a bunch of nincompoops for wanting to live out in this desolate wasteland in the first place”… wait a second… that isn’t what Governor Dave said… that’s what I was thinking… sorry 🙂

Governor Dave: “My responsibility as governor is to see to it that the state doesn’t lose population, which it’s not. The fact that the urban areas are seeing growth and rural areas are seeing decline means that urban areas are doing something right… and you’re not. Next question?”

Yet another voter from western Nebraska: “Yes, Governor, wind energy is going to play a major part of our country’s energy supply in the near future. Wind farms are booming in Colorado and Wyoming, and wind is one of the few things western Nebraska has an abundance of. Why are we not seeing wind energy development in our area? Like with ethanol production, are tax incentives being offered to get wind energy off the ground in Nebraska?”

Governor Dave: “Wind energy is good, but, you know, the wind always blows when you don’t want it to, and it doesn’t blow when you need it to. Hahaha! Wind energy has a future in western Nebraska. Next question?”

…and on and on and on…

… seriously…

The only thing I learned from my attendance at the Pre-legislative breakfast with Governor Dave Heineman is this: I could be governor!

I think that wind energy is good!

I can tell people who voted for me that their problems aren’t my responsibility!

I can say that the Heartland Expressway is a priority of mine !

Man, at times I doubt I have any real worth to society. Little did I realize… I apparently have every skill necessary to be governor of the great state of Nebraska!

Why I Avoid Black Friday…

My wife has this crazy ritual of getting up well before the butt-crack of dawn on the Friday after Thanksgiving and, with her sister, heading out to various retail locations to fight mobs of people for a very limited amount of sale items. I love my wife, and I know she is muy inteligente almost all of the time… but this yearly ritual makes me doubt her sanity. In fact, she and her sister sit down after Thanksgiving dinner and draw out a game plan (war plan?) for the following day’s shopping blitz. They almost always gets what they were shopping for, and they always have interesting stories to relay to the men-folk (who are usually just crawling out of bed upon the return of the shoppers).

There was apparently some hot deal at Walmart that had people lined up all the way back into the laundry soap aisle. Apparently, there was a pair of young couples who had the foresight to grab some folding chairs from the “folding chair” aisle at Walmart, and these couples had set-up camp in the laundry soap aisle. By “set up camp”, I mean they had their Walmart folding chairs strung across the aisle and their laps and the shelves beside them loaded with some McDonald’s fast food and other heart-healthy treats. And, according to the wife, each couple had a baby with them, and each mother was breast-feeding her baby… right there in the laundry soap aisle… sitting on the Walmart folding chairs.

Of course, being a guy, I’m thinking to myself, “uh huh huh… breastfeeding… that’s cool.”

The wife, sensing the smirk on my face and the glazing of my eyes says, “Remember, this was in the laundry soap aisle at Walmart.”

“So, they weren’t hot?” I ask.

“Seriously… the laundry soap aisle at Walmart… what do you think.”

After clearing the image from my head, I let the wife continue with her story. Apparently at 5am, the Walmart people cut the shrink wrap off of the “special item” and the laundry-soap aisle cleared quickly. The trailer trash that had set-up camp in aisle seven left as quickly as everyone else… leaving behind an aisle and shelves filled with chairs from another department (for all other shoppers to navigate around), their uneaten fast-food remnants, and a bunch of trash. Seriously, someone needed to yell at these trashtastic couples, “Really?!?… I have to watch your ugly kids suck on your ugly wives’ knockers, and now I have to move through your filth to make it down this aisle?” This would probably have led to the trailer trash yelling obscenities (’cause that’s what trailer trash does) and the holiday season could have started with a real bang! The amount of disrespect that certain people seem to exude at any given opportunity is one of the reasons that I do not venture out on the morning of Black Friday.

According to the wife, the shoppers at Walmart were actually quite pleasant this year. The real jerks seemed to be the upper class shoppers at Menards. Apparently the upper class isn’t used to having to venture out early on a Friday morning and deal with other shoppers en masse in attempt to complete their holiday shopping in an cost-effective manner. Thanks, crappy economy 😀 I love it when the beginning of the Christmas season brings out the worst in people… which is what it’s all supposed to be about anyway, right? Apparently the Menards shoppers were pretty careless with their carts full of appliances and… bean bag chairs (I don’t know what marketing genius came up with the grand idea of having a Black Friday special on some stupid 70’s relic that easily can load up a shopping cart and make it very difficult to see where one is going when one is loaded up on them, but he/she should maybe find something else to do career-wise). A bunch of pissed-off people pushy around carts full of crap and not being able to see (nor apparently caring) where they are going… sounds like fun, huh? Yeah, if I had been there and some inconsiderate boob had banged me with his/her cart, there would have been a tipped over cart flying down an aisle and a string of obscenities flying from my lips (’cause I’m kinda trailer trash like that 😀 )

People, in general, tend to suck. I’m pretty sure that many of the really sucky ones come out early on Black Friday morning… so I find it’s best just to avoid it.

Looking for Websites…

Alrighty, kiddos, Adventurer Rich is looking for some help. I have the gall to call myself “Adventurer” when I rarely, if ever, actually “adventure”. Oh sure, I have my little adventures with Boy Scouts… and I consider my time spent amongst trailer folk at Walmart a semi-adventure… even daily life could be considered an “adventure (in “adventure’s” mildest form), but I never really truly “adventure”. All of that is about to change…

I’m looking for your favorite websites. You know, those wacky pages on the Internet that you visit on occasion (or daily… or every fifteen minutes…) looking for humor or advice or just a little escape. I am not looking for social networking sites like Facebook or your E*Trade account or any site that requires a login to access. I am looking for blogs and advice columns and fun places you like to visit. I will visit these sites, pick the ones I like, chose random information from these sites, compile a list of links, post the links on this blog… and let the scavenger hunt begin! It will be up to my loyal readers to follow the links, search the sites, find the information I am looking for, and return your answers to me (seriously… this is gonna be a blast for all ten of you!) There’s gonna be a prize and everything… don’t know what it will be yet, but I’m sure it will be relatively cheap and stupid… but YOU COULD WIN IT!!! I won’t even charge you shipping to get it to you 🙂

So you’re wondering, “How can I help Adventurer Rich and submit my favorite website?” Well, it’s all really easy. Just comment on this post with a link to your favorite site.

1. At the top of the blog post, where it says “No Comments” or “6 Comments” or whatever, click on that link; this should automatically take you to the comments section of this post. Under the incredibly long list of comments, you will find the section where you can “Leave a Reply”.

2. You will need to enter your name (please do not enter your real full name… ’cause it will be available to anyone and everyone on the Internet who ever happens to stumble across my site… enter your first name or a nickname or make up a really “cool” Internet name… like “Adventurer Rich”, but that’s already taken…)

3. You will have to enter your email address. Please do enter your real, legitimate email address. I will not sell or give away your address, but I may at some point use it to notify you of contest dates and such. Your email address will only be accessible to me… and I’m relatively harmless…

4. Enter the website address of the site you would like me to check out. If it’s your own site, SUPER COOL! If it is the site of someone else, that’s pretty cool too:)

5. Please re-enter the address of the site you would like me to check out in the “message” section (this is the big box under the “website” box). By putting this information in the message section of the site, everyone who visits my comments will be able to know your favorite site! Also, please give me a very brief description of why I should visit the site (i.e. why you like it).

I have a few of my favorite sites in mind that I already plan on using for my scavenger hunt, but I need many more to make this challenging and fun 🙂 I have very few restrictions as to which sites I will or will not use, I just have to like it. I do ask that the content of the site be PG-13 or cleaner. There are a few young people who stumble across my site, and I don’t want to lead them into the world of porn and obscenity… I’ll leave that to Google.

I would like to have all recommendations entered by Saturday, October 2, 2010 at noon. I will not consider any sites submitted after that date and time for this scavenger hunt.

One final way you can help out old Adventurer Rich is to hit the “Like” button at the bottom of this post if you have a Facebook account. This will let all of your Facebook friends who are not my Facebook friends see this post and they too can contribute their sites! I guess if you know how to “Digg This”, you could do that as well; I’ve just been too lazy to research a good plugin to add that feature to my site 🙂

Thanks for visiting my site… thanks for taking the time to read this post… and thanks for helping me start a true adventure 🙂

Stinking Technology!

Isn’t technology amazing? Hasn’t it made daily life so much easier? Nothing reduces stress like modern technology!

First-thing on a typical Monday morning in Tech Support:

Me: Thanks for calling tech support, how can I help you?

Little old lady on Phone (lol): My internet isn’t working.

Me: I’m sorry to hear that. Let’s see if we can’t get it fixed for you.

Instant Message from new co-worker (im1): Hey, why would someone’s dealie tell them their network cable is unplugged?

Me: How long has your Internet not been working?

Me: What dealie?

Instant Message from old co-worker (im2): I got a weird one. this guy can’t see anything on his screen.

lol: It hasn’t worked all morning.

im1: I don’t know, the little dealie in the bottom corner of the monitor.

Me: What do you mean “can’t see anything”?

Me: So it was working yesterday?

Instant Message from boss (im3): Did you get that equipment ordered?

im2: the screen is completely blank.

Me: Did you have them check their network cable?

lol: I didn’t use it yesterday.

Me: What equipment?

Text Message from the wife (text1): Can u grab a gallon of milk after work?

Me: The blue screen of death?

im3: the routers for the Schergenrader installation.

Me: When is the last time you used it?

im2: What network cable?

Me: Yeah, how come?

im2: no, it’s completely black

lol: I haven’t used it for a couple of weeks.

Me: I don’t know anything about the Scherkenderfer installation.

text1: I have to pick the boy up from school and won’t have time.

Me: The network cable going into the back of the computer from her router.

Me: What do you see on your screen right now?

im3: Maybe I forgot to tell you about it. I need you to order 3 routers, next day, for the Schergenrader installation tomorrow.

Me: Are you sure there is power to the monitor?

Text Message from the boy (text2): Can u pk me up aftr skwl?

im1: OK, I’ll have her check that.

lol: Nothing.

Me: I’d have to order in the next 10 minutes to get it guaranteed by tomorrow.

im2: she says it is plugged in.

im1: The cable is connected, but the lights on her router aren’t on.

Me: I thought your mom was gonna pick you up.

text2: Mom g2 p u milk or sumtin

Me: So, your screen is just blue?

im3: Yeah, we really need them. I’d order them, but I have an appointment to get my hair cut. I’m already late.

Me: The boy is asking me to pick him up

lol: No, the screen is black

Me: Your mom asked me to get the milk, she said she was going to get you. Could you work it out with her and let me know what I need to do. I’m kind of busy.

text2: wrtg a novel? L2 txt. uradrk 🙂

text1: no, I’ll get him. You need to get the milk.

Me: I don’t know if I will have time.

Me: Can you work it out with the boy? I’m kind of busy right now. Just let me know what you guys decide and I’ll do whatever that is.

Me: How about we try pushing the power button?

lol: What power button?

im1: Power button on what?

text2: That’s the longest text ever. uradrk ♥

im2: Push what?

im3: Power button? What in the hell are you talking about? Just get it done!

Me: The power button on the monitor.

Me: Make sure the router is plugged in.

Me: The power button on the monitor.

lol: Well what do you know. Looks like that didn’t get turned on. Looks like my internet is actually working. Thank you.

im1: Oh, hey, it was unplugged. Seems to be good now.

Me: Your welcome.

text2: Mom get me, u get milk

im2: Yeah, the monitor wasn’t turned on. All is well.

text2: I’ll get the boy, you get the milk… just like I first wrote.

Me: Great

im3: “Great” what? Are you smoking something funny?

Me: No, I mean, yes, I mean… never mind. I’ll get the routers ordered. Then I can start going through my email…

Technology SUCKS!!! Man, I miss my Blackberry…

Something About Nebraska That… Doesn’t… Suck… I Guess

I have come to the conclusion that the negative attitude I hold toward all things Nebraska is starting to have a negative impact on my health. My family has an ongoing rivalry with heart disease, and heart disease seems to be winning. All of the males (and some of the females) on my dad’s side of the family have battled high blood pressure and I am no exception. I can actually feel my blood pressure rise when I get stressed, and I am constantly getting stressed. The stress gets so bad that, once it kicks in, I can’t concentrate. My thoughts flutter around my head like moths around a campfire. If I try to pull those thoughts into my psyche to concentrate on, the thoughts, much like the moths, burst into flames and are forgotten. The feelings of hopelessness then descend in waves, and I actually begin to question my sanity. Ever felt like you were going crazy? Not a good time. Stress makes me feel like I’m going crazy.

In order to try to alleviate a little of the stress I feel in my life, I decided to focus this entry on something about the panhandle of Nebraska that actually makes me happy. That’s right, I’m going to try to find a positive angle to follow on something. Finding something in the panhandle that I don’t perceive as completely sucking is not easy, but I’m going to give it a shot.

Nebraska is known for its beef: marbled, corn-fed beef that practically melts in your mouth. If you want a truly great rib-eye steak (perhaps the best rib-eye on the planet), and you want to experience that steak in a truly Nebraska-esque setting, there is only one place to go…

The Oregon Trail Wagon Train.

The Oregon Trail Wagon Train is a local landmark. It used to be known as “Gordon Howard’s” until the Howard family sold it. I’m sure that most folks are familiar with a chuck-wagon-style cookout. Many of the touristy places in the West and Midwest have these kinds of cookouts, but most of them serve crap like barbecue beef or barbecue chicken… you know, the shredded stuff that goes on a bun… and with most of them, you are paying for the experience (because the food sucks).

I remember going to the Flying T chuck-wagon supper last summer near Rapid City, SD. It was over $20 per adult, the food was not impressive, and the portions didn’t come close to filling me up. The staff was kind of rude and barked orders to the paying customers (which, I guess, is supposed to be part of the charm). There was some good-old country music after the meal (if you like good-old country music… which I don’t) and the band tried to hawk their CDs the whole time. I love Rapid City… the Black Hills are one of my favorite areas to visit… but I will never go back to the Flying T. There are much better places to eat in the Black Hills.

Anywho, back to a good chuck-wagon meal. At the Oregon Trail Wagon Train, the ambiance is pretty rustic.

They have a horse-drawn wagon and they take you for a short ride. Usually on the wagon ride, the driver will point out spots in the vicinity that were actually part of the Pony Express trail. It’s pretty cool to think that Pony Express riders used to actually ride so close to where you are about to enjoy your heavenly steak.

The “cowboy coffee” is plentiful and is cooked over an open fire.

When you get to the botton of your cup, you get a mouthful of grounds… which is the way it should be. If you ain’t chewing your coffee, it ain’t real cowboy coffee. All of the food is cooked over wood coals from a real fire… as opposed to a fake fire, I guess. The boiled potatoes and the green beans are cooking in these funky, homemade-looking metal structures, and the “grill” is loaded with fire wood. When they light the wood, you know that good times are getting near. See, this is the thing with the Oregon Train Wagon Train: you pay something like $22 per adult (same as the Flying T), but you are actually getting an honest-to-goodness rib-eye dinner that exceeds the quality of a steak you could get in a fancy chop house.

On my last visit to the Oregon Trail Wagon Train (which was a couple of weeks ago), there were a crapload of grasshoppers. I happened to notice a spider hanging in her web on the eave of one of the old buildings. I figured that, since my family was about to dine on some good grub, I would treat the spider. I grabbed a grasshopper and threw him into the spider’s web. Honestly, I didn’t figure the spider would mess with him, but I went back about fifteen minutes later and found the following:

I showed the kids (the wife refused to look) and they thought it was gross. You can actually see where she has her mouth attached to the hopper. You know she injected her venom into the hopper, waited for the venom to start dissolving the workings inside the exoskeleton, and is now sucking out the juicy remains. Awesome! The kids didn’t really think so… not right before dinner. Still, I thought it was pretty cool.

While I was playing with the spider, the wood on the grill had been started.

Now we were just waiting for the fire to burn to coals and the steaks would go on. There are some pretty cool things to check out while you are waiting for the steaks to start cooking. There is a path you can follow that takes you back to the North Platte River.

Usually this area is kind of mosquito-infested, but this late in the summer, I guess the mosquitoes had other things to do. There is a little fort for the kids (of all ages:) ) to check out. You can actually climb up into the watch tower and check out the grounds.

There is a old black lab that hangs out (except she seems to disappear at meal time) and she loves to have her belly rubbed (if you are so inclined to rub a dog’s belly… which I am).

There are a variety of old tools attached to the sides of the out buildings that are kind of fun to check out. The Oregon Trail Wagon Train also has a small gift shop and a small bar attached to the gift shop, so you can buy some overpriced, low-quality toys and nick-knacks right before you start downing the brews.

I usually avoid the gift shop and the bar. Why pay for a beer when there is all of that free cowboy coffee to chew on?

For the more sportsy people, there are a couple of horseshoe pits.

Yeah, I guess horseshoe tossing ain’t really a sport, but this is Nebraska, so horseshoe tossing is right up there alongside tumbleweed chasin’, cow tippin’, and sheep… uh…

… shearing? Besides, tossing a shoe from time to time can be kind of fun.

If you run out of things to do and are feeling a little bored waiting for the steaks to go on the grill, there is a multitude of spiders which I am sure would love to find a juicy grasshopper in their webs 🙂

Finally, the fire has burned down to coals, the coals are raked out nice and smooth, and the steaks get thrown on the grill.

Every time I have been to the Oregon Trail Wagon Train, the guys in charge of grilling the steaks seem to have a beer in their hands. Every time. And dinner is served 7 nights-a-week all summer long. I wonder if they are hiring?

The dinner bell rings, we all get in a line, and we proceed by the grill. They ask you how you like your steak done, and you get it exactly how you like it. You then get a heaping spoon of green beans and a large, red boiled potato. You help yourself to the available condiments (from which steak sauce is absent… and you better not even think about asking for it) and make your way to a table. Waiting for you on the table is a freshly baked loaf of the best sourdough bread in Nebraska.

After you gorge yourself on a hearty meat and potato meal, you head to the ice cream counter and get yourself a cone filled with delicious home-made vanilla ice cream.

While you are licking your dessert, you are directed to the campfire area where one of the steak cookers (half-baked on beer) will lead the entire dining group through several sing-along songs that are usually silly and probably quite fun (if you go for sing-alongs… which I do not).

We usually leave after a song or two and head for home, quite satisfied.

I promised myself that I was not going to bitch about anything at the Oregon Trail Wagon Train. This chuck-wagon-cookout is the best cookout-type place I’ve ever been to, and I am trying to manage my blood pressure. However, I am know for breaking promises… and it goes against my nature to not complain about something, so I’m gonna complain about the flies. The Oregon Trail Wagon Train is out in the middle of nowhere. You can see Chimney Rock from the cookout site, which is also in the middle of nowhere.

When you are in the middle of nowhere and you cook-up good grub, you are going to be invaded by flies. And I’m not talking about a few flies, I’m talking about flies of horror movie proportions. The setting is great, the food is awesome, but you are going to spend a large portion of your time waving flies away from your plate. I guess this doesn’t bother me too much. The food is worth the waving, but I kind of wish the owners of the Oregon Trail Wagon Train would do something about the flies. I don’t know what they could do, but if they could find something, I would not have a single bitch about the place 🙂

If you ever find yourself in the panhandle of Nebraska, I have a couple of things to let you know. First, I want to apologize that you are in the panhandle of Nebraska. Second, if you find the time, check out the Oregon Trail Wagon Train . It’s out of the way, but worth it. Besides, the entire panhandle is out of the way, and your here, so you might as well eat some good grub!

Scotts Bluff County Commissioners SUCK!

A few months back, I received the obligatory notice from wonderful Scotts Bluff county that my property had increased in value (which means my taxes were going up). My property value goes up every year, no matter the condition of the house I’m in or the neighborhood in which I reside. This seemed strange to me this year seeing as how property values have been falling all over the rest of the country. I decided that this year, I was going to protest the increased valuation of my property.

Now, like any sane individual, I want the value of my property to increase. Increased value of property means that when I finally find the will and way to leave the Craphole of Nebraska, I may actually make money on the sale of my house. However, times are a little tough around here, and paying out more taxes doesn’t exactly fit into our budget. So, I figure that until the economy actually turns around and this area starts to grow (which means NEVER), I shouldn’t have to pay more in property taxes. I didn’t figure that the jerk-wad commissioners of Scotts Bluff County would reconsider the increase in the value of my property (it is a well known fact that you never win with them), but at least I figured I could get an explanation on how in the hell they felt my property could be increasing in value in crappy, low-wage Nebraska in the middle of a recession.

I filed the papers at the county courthouse. When I handed the petition to the clerk, she looked at me like I was crazy.

“You plan on protesting the valuation of your house?” she asked

“That’s the plan,” I said.

She chuckled… and I knew this was not going to be fun.

I was given a date to appear before the commission like a month later. I arranged my schedule and, a month later, went before the county commissioners.

I showed up for my appointment about 5 minutes early. The commissioners meet in a small room on the second floor of the county building. I climb the stairs to the second floor and step into the room. Inside, the commissioners are sitting on their pedestal seats from which they can look down on everything else in the room. Fitting. And they are munching away on sandwiches. I notice a sign-in sheet on a table just inside the door to the room, and I jot down my John Henry along with the time of my appointment. I glance up at the commissioners to see if I can get any kind of inclination as to what I an supposed to do next. They are all busy staring at their sandwiches, so I just go back in the hall and grab a seat outside. I’m not comfortable around strangers, especially strangers with power. Plus, I hate public speaking, especially when it is going to be to a group of people looking down at me.

After about 15 minutes, I decide something doesn’t seem quite right, so I peak back in the room. A couple of the gods do me the favor of looking down at me from on high and then turn their attention back to their sandwiches. I go back out in the hallway. My appointment was supposed to be at 7:00 pm. I showed up at 6:55 pm. It is now 7:15 pm, and there are now 2 more people sitting in the hallway waiting for their appointments, which are after mine. I peak my head once again into the small room and they are still eating.

“Uh, am I supposed to wait in the hall, or should I wait in here?” I ask.

One of the gods , disgruntled by the fact that I am pulling him away from the stinking sandwich it is taking him 20 stinking minutes to eat, says, “You can wait in here. We’re running a little late, just getting some supper. It’s been a long day.” I actually believe he may have spoken to the sandwich. How dare a peasant such as myself speak to him directly while he is renewing his power with the regenerative, almighty tuna fish. I grab a seat in the room.

After about 5 more minutes (apparently my time is of no consequence to the earthly gods), we begin. I am asked why I feel my property value should remain the same. I go into a well prepared rant about all of the things wrong in my neighborhood. I speak of the ills of the drug-infested trailer park from which I am only a couple of blocks. I speak of the lack of county and city services available in our “rural” area. I also go into the lack of decent paying jobs available in the panhandle, as well as the high per-capita crime rate and the impact the recession has had on our area.

“How, in such an impoverished area, with such a high crime rate and such a low quality of life, can the value of real estate be going up?” I really feel like my impassioned speech may have hit the mark! I really feel that I may have a chance of making a winning argument! My hopes are starting to rise as…

“I haven’t heard anything here to overturn the evaluation,” says one of the jerk-wads. “I make a motion to accept the county assessor’s appraisal.”

“Second,” says a second jerk-wad… a little too quickly for my taste.

“All in favor,” says the head jerk-wad. Every single jerk-wad on the commission voted to piss me off, and I hate every single one of them every bit of my propensity to hate.

“That’s it?” I squeak.

No one even bothers to look my way. They are too busy sealing the fate of my tax-hike to notice my peasant-like presence. I pick up my crap, all of the notes with bullet points and other various garbage, and walk for the door. As I reach the door, I hear one of the jerk-wads say something to me, but I just keep walking. Screw ’em all.

So, that’s it. Until, like two weeks later, I receive a letter in the mail from the county commissioners. The letter informs me that, for a mere $25, I can appear before the commissioners again to re-protest the valuation.

ARE THEY CRAZY!?! Or, better yet, DO THEY THINK I’M CRAZY!?!

As I write this, I can actually feel a growing pressure in my chest. If I were to take my blood pressure right now, I’m almost positive that just seeing the actual reading would send me into cardiac arrest. Apparently the county commissioners of Scotts Bluff County think that all of their constituents are meth-heads and can easily be conned out of an additional $25. Why would I want to go through having those jerk-wads make me wait again, look down on me again, and vote against me again?

SERIOUSLY!?!

Home ownership is part of the American dream, right? Many of us slave away for the right to proclaim that we truly own our home. Once that mortgage is paid off, we own our house and no one can take it away from us, right? If you really believe that you can possibly own your house, you are an idiot. Don’t believe me? Try paying off your mortgage and then never paying your property taxes again. You will quickly find out who truly owns your house… and it ain’t you.

I think I had better call it a day before I’m found on the floor, clutching my chest and needing someone to call 911.

breathe… breathe… in through the nose, out through the mouth...

Music Scene in the Nebraska Panhandle!

Sometimes, I am able to step back from my own perceived issues and take a look at the issues of someone else. No matter how bad you think you have it, there is someone else who can evoke feelings of pity from you. Such is the case with Mr. Jimmie Van Zant.

In the panhandle of Nebraska, there are few choices for entertainment. Very seldom does musical entertainment that fits my likes find its way here. On the 3rd of July this past summer, one of the local bars made a very lame attempt at bringing some “rock & roll” to the panhandle. The area is flooded with extremely lame cover-bands, so this bar thought it would bring in a person with a semi-famous last name so that person could perform hit songs! YEAH!… right? Except this person really has no claim to fame himself. He is riding the coattails of famous relatives of his which makes him and his band a… uh… cover-band.

Every time I see this, I have to laugh. I’m not laughing with you, Mr. Van Zant, I’m laughing at you. Jimmie is performing hits… by his first cousins. Hahaha! Seriously?!? How lame of a promo is that?

“I’ve never really amounted to much of anything, but my cousins had some success, so I’m gonna be performing some of their songs. Come see me perform, ’cause I got famous cousins! And I ain’t talking about 2nd or 3rd cousins… these are 1st cousins!”

For crying our loud. Don’t you just feel for Jimmie? I do. I feel really bad for him. He had first cousins in two bands that are icons of Southern Rock… and the biggest fame he could find is riding their coattails like 30 years later. Poor dude. My way of thinking leads me to believe that if he really had any talent, his cousins could have got him on with Lynyrd Skynyrd or 38 Special… not left him hanging only to cover their hits 30 years after the fact… at a dinky bar… in the-middle-of-nowhere Nebraska. I realize that Jimmie may have been to young to perform with the great bands during their heydays, but as far as I know, both Lynard Skynyrd and 38 Special still tour. Of course, maybe Jimmie just wants to do his own thing. Why play with the actual bands that had the hits when you can cover their songs and promote your 1st-cousin-status. Oh well.

Even more pathetic than Jimmie Van Zant is his opening act. The Driving Dynamics have quite a reputation around these parts. They are, after all, the “longest running rock & roll band in Nebraska”. I think Larry Soto is actually the founder of this group… and he still plays… and sings. Yeah, if you are thinking what I am thinking, the dude has to be like 90-years-old. That has to be entertaining. I’ve heard that Larry is like the only one of the original members who still plays. I guess he either fired the rest, they quit to enjoy the fruits of grand-parenthood, or they have died of old age. You can only imagine how exciting one of The Driving Dynamics’ shows must be.

Looking at the current band members according to the band’s website, Larry plays guitars and does vocals. The Dynamics also have two additional vocalists and a drummer. Three singers, one guitar and drums… and apparently a tape player playing bass, keyboard and whatever else is needed. That’s gotta suck 🙂 But the old Germans love this group, apparently because, even at 90, Larry makes the gray-hairs swoon.

Larry took this picture while looking down at his multitude of fans

Yeah, western Nebraska ain’t known for its music scene…

101 Things to do in Wyobraska!

Here it is, Saturday evening, and I was trying to figure out something to do with the family. I get tired of sitting around on the weekends doing nothing fun. Our local crappaper, the Star-Herald, is always trying new things to get people to fork over a buck for a paper not worth 25¢. This is a newspaper that charges for obituaries, so I have little respect for the heads of this paper (who are based in Omaha… so they are complete idiots who know nothing about life in rural Nebraska). The Star-Herald‘s most recent attempt at suckering people into purchasing this rag was a little insert they put in the regular paper called “101 Things to do in Wyobraska”. I kept this insert to use as a reference for times just like this; times when I’m trying to find something for my family to do to get out of the house and away from the TV and computer. Well, after glancing through the Star-Herald’s “101 Things to do in Wyobraska,” I was still clueless.

The wife says, “Did you decide what you want to do… I kinda wanted to take a shower tonight, so if we’re going to do something, let’s do it.”

“Go ahead and take your shower,” I say. “I’m going to spend yet another night on the stinking computer. The boys will rot their brains in front of the TV and I’m going to write a blog post about how there really is nothing to do around the Craphole… and how the Star-Herald’s suggestions suck!”

“Okay, have fun with that,” says the wife as she heads off to take her shower. I get no sympathy.

“101 Things to do in Wyobraska”… seriously!?! In the introduction to this guide, the editors of the Star-Herald admit that a common complaint around our area is that there is nothing to do here. They don’t believe that is true (because if young people continue to leave the area, all that will be left are old people, and although old people are more likely to read newspapers than young people, old people die… and there will be no one left to pay for their overpriced paper… so what else are they going to say?) In their introduction, the editors go on about how they know there are way more than 101 things to do in our area, and don’t worry if your favorite is missing because they are going to be making this an annual project, blah blah blah blah. An annual project?!? It seems like they were seriously scraping the bottom of the barrel just to come up with this stinking list! There is no way I am going to waste your time or mine covering each of the 101 things covered in the Star-Herald’s guide. I’m just going to cover some of the highlights… and then it will be off to bed… early… again… because there is nothing fun to do here.

#28 – Reel in a pike at Box Butte Reservoir

#48 – Troll for a monster at Walgren Lake near Hay Springs

#52 – Battle a bluegill at Smith Lake

#61 – Fish walleyes through the ice at Whitney Lake

#83 – Wet a line in the waters at Fort Robinson State Park

#87 – Fish for trout on Nine Mile Creek

Apparently someone on the Star-Herald’s staff really likes his fishing.

I can’t get my kids to sit still for fishing for more than 15 minutes, so driving umpteen miles to some middle-of-nowhere fishing destination only to leave with screaming, fighting kids only 15 minutes later and have to drive all the way back home does not sound like something to do… it sounds like something to AVOID! Those six are out immediately.

#24 – Eat a Tin Roof Sundae in Potter

Potter is over 60 miles from where we live. 60 miles. It would be an hour each way. That’s two hours of drive time for an ice cream sundae. My car gets 25 miler-per-gallon, so we’re looking at almost 5 gallons of gas at almost $3 per gallon. That’s 2 hours and $15 just to make the trip! That doesn’t include the cost of the sundae’s once you get there. The drive from the Scottsbluff to Potter, by the way, is far from scenic. These would have to be the best sundaes in the entire world to get me to make this trip… which I highly doubt they are. I’m sure they are good, but I doubt they are worth a 2 hour drive and $15 in gas.

#39 – Listen to a windmill whisper at the wind farm near Kimball

“Windmill whisper”… really!?! These are not your typical windmills. These are wind turbines used to create energy.

They are really tall, and I agree they are cool to look at from the road, but making a 45 minute trip to listen to them “whisper”… not a family fun activity.

#54 – Photograph the foundations of Nebraska’s potash boom near Antioch

Yeah, I didn’t know what potash was either. Apparently potash is used in fertilizer. Potash is separated from alkaline lakes, and Antioch was at the head of this boom… which apparently lasted about 5 years and no one really remembers it. The only traces of the “boom” are some foundations to some buildings. So, driving out to the middle-of-nowhere to look at some old foundations from a boom that no one remembers…

…see what I mean by scraping the bottom of the barrel?

#60 – Buy a pair of spurs at Morgan’s Cowpoke Haven in Ellsworth

I don’t own a horse, so why would I need spurs? I don’t think most of the residents of our community own horses, so I doubt they need spurs either.

Not to mention the fact that Ellsworth is almost 100 miles away and seriously in the middle-of-nowhere. I’m packing up the family for a trip to Ellsworth as I write… sure I am.

#64 – Spin a yarn at the Scotts Bluff Valley Fiber Arts Fair

Wow, I’ve always wanted to learn how to knit. Nothing brings to mind a night of family fun like the word “knit.”

There really is stuff to do in Wyobraska. Someone shoot me now, please!

#72 – Get history on the go at the region’s wayside markers

Wayside markers… you know, those little signs on the side of the road that explain trivial bits of history that no one actually stops to read unless it’s a guy who really has to take a leak.

This is one of the “101 Things to do in Wyobraska”? I think we may have actually dug through the bottom of the barrel and mucking around in the dirt below.

#14 – Relive history at Robidoux Pass National Historic Landmark

This one really hit home for me. When I saw this listed at #14, I knew this list was going to mostly be a joke. You see, I have actually done this. One day, a few years ago, I took the wife and our son (at that time, we only had one) to Fort Laramie National Historic Site (which comes in at #66 – Enjoy any season at Fort Laramie with the spirits of past visitors). Fort Laramie, I’ll admit, is pretty cool. This historic site is an old fort with many of the original buildings still standing. It is fun to go to… about once every 10 years. We’re only a couple of years from going again. Anyway, after a spending a day in history, we didn’t want our history lesson to end.

After leaving the fort, I said to the wife, “Hey, what about that Robidoux Trading Post? Have you ever been there. It sounds cool.”

“Nope, never been there,” says the wife. “Why don’t we go.”

So, we drive all the way back to Scottsbluff from Ft. Laramie and go on a search for the historic Robidoux Trading Post. We drive and we drive and we drive over bumpy gravel road and breath in the wonderful dust of Nebraska. Finally, off to the south, we see a crappy looking shack.

“I think that’s it,” says the wife.

“That’s it? I ask.

“Pretty sure that’s it,” says the wife.

You’ve got to be kidding,” I say. “For crying out loud. That’s just a shack.”

“Says here,” the wife says, looking at the wayside marker by the shack, “that this isn’t even the original shack. This is a reproduction.”

“Why would anyone reproduce a crappy little shack?” I ask, my head starting to hurt.

“For historic preservation?” ventures the wife.

“Why would anyone reproduce a crappy little shack and put it out in the middle-of-nowhere and encourage people to drive over crappy, bumpy gravel roads and breath in all of that crappy dust just to get to it and be disappointed?” By this time, I’m actually rubbing my temples.

“I guess some people like stuff like this,” says the wife.

“IT’S A CRAPPY REPRODUCTION OF A CRAPPY LITTLE SHACK IN THE MIDDLE-OF-NOWHERE!”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” says the wife. “Let’s go home.” The wife doesn’t let things stress her out like I do.

Of course, this list of things to do includes a lot of “eat this here” and “buy that there”, many of which I have tried and few of which I would consider a destination for family fun. The Star-Herald’s lame attempt at giving the average family something to do in Wyobraska actually made me reconsider my stance that there is nothing to do here. There is all kinds of stuff to do here… it’s all just really, really lame.

Safeway SUCKS!

Anyone who has spent any time on my blog knows that I am pretty much good for nothing. I complain a lot, and I’m relatively good at complaining… in fact, if complaining were an occupation, there is a good chance I would finely be at the top of my game career-wise, ’cause I am, in my humble opinion, a top-notch bitcher. Ok, so I’m not good for nothing! I’m a good… no, a GREAT… bitcher! Man, if only the world could compensate me for this talent. That’s what I want on my tombstone: “Not Good for Much, But Boy Could He Bitch!”

Anyway, I had an experience a couple of weeks ago that got the complain-mechanism in my brain all fired up and ready to go. In fact, I was so torqued, I had to wait a couple of weeks just to prevent this post from becoming a spewing geyser of venomous hate… which it still runs the risk of becoming. I promise, I’ll try to be civil.

I was feeling adventurous and was going to try our a new recipe. In order to follow this recipe, I needed some Italian sausage links. Since we had none of these links at home, I was forced to drive to a grocery store. The closet grocery store to my house was a local store called Panhandle Coop, so I drove to Coop in an attempt to save time. I figured I could pick up about 3 packaged of Italian sausage for about $3.00 each.

I walk into Coop and head to the meat department. I walk up to the section that contains the Italian sausage and the crap is like $5.00 per pack. I turn around, grumbling loudly to myself and I leave the stinking store. “Hometown friendly my $#*!,” I grumble.

I drive a couple of blocks over to Safeway. I almost never shop at Safeway, because I feel like their name should really be “Wanna-Shop-Here-Then-Bend-Over-And-Take-Our-Exorbitantly-High-Prices-Like-A-Convict-Reaching-For-The-Soap-Way.” But maybe… just maybe… they are having a sale or something. After all, I have one of their pain in the $#*! Club Cards! I like to think of people who shop at Safeway as mostly mentally-deficient, because only those with brain damage would pay twice what something is worth just have the store pretty much to themselves while they shop.

Ok, so I walk into Safeway and I make my way to the meat department. I walk up to the Italian sausage section and… GLORY… they have Italian sausage on sale for $2.99 a package. I grab 3 packs from right behind the sign (this is particularly important and will come into play a little later) and I head to the counter.

I’m fumbling through my wallet searching for that stinking Club Card as the pimple-faced checker rings-up my sausage. I hand him the card and he swipes it.

“That’ll be $17.97,” croaks pimple-face.

“Should be like 9 bucks,” I tell him. “It’s on sale.”

He looks over at the cashier next to him and holds up my sausage, “Is this on sale?” he asks.

“No, not that one,” says next-door pimple-face.

“I’ll show you,” I say and I start walking back to the stinking meat department.

Me and my pimple-face get to the meat department and I point triumphantly at the sign which boldly proclaims that Italian sausage is on sale for $2.99 per package… and then I notice in very small print that it’s the Safeway brand of sausage that’s on sale. I had grabbed Johnsonville, which isn’t on sale even though the Johnsonville is the only sausage I can find in the meat cooler.

“I want the stuff that’s on sale,” I say.

“Yeah, we’re out of that,” says pimple-face rather a little too smugly for my taste.

“Then why is the sign still up and why is the Johnsonville piled up behind the sale sign?” I ask. “Can’t you honor the marked sale price with the product that is displayed?”

“No, that sausage isn’t on sale,” says Smugly van Pimple-face.

“Screw Safeway,” I say and make for the door, grumbling and unleashing expletives as I storm past the manager at the customer service counter as I realize that Safeway having a customer service counter is somewhat like Payless Shoes having an airplane repair counter.

“But Payless Shoes doesn’t offer airplane repair,” you may say.

Exactly.

I get in my car and I drive five mile to stinking Walmart. I get out of the car and hike like 1/2 mile to the meat department. I grab 3 packages of $3.00 Italian sausage and go to the checkout. I don’t have to get dig out any stupid cards, I pay my $9.00, and I leave. If I had just gone to Walmart in the first place, I would have saved time, I would have put less wear and tear on my car, and my blood pressure would have stayed within a safe range.

Ok, so the safe bet is to avoid all of the other retarded grocery stores and shop at Walmart, right? Moral presented in a solid fashion, correct? I thought so, until a couple of days later.

The family and I decide that the dry, itchy skin we are all experiencing needs to come to an end, so the oldest boy and I head out to buy some water softener salt for our water softener (which has been out for awhile because… uh, well, because I’m lazy, I guess.) But the boy and I play it smart. We don’t go to Coop, we don’t bother with Wanna-Shop-Here-Then-Bend-Over-And-Take-Our-Exorbitantly-High-Prices-Like-A-Convict-Reaching-For-The-Soap-Way, we head straight to Walmart. We park the car, head into the store, and make our way right to… where… the… water…softener… salt… used… to… be…

“Where in the crap is the water softener salt?” I ask the boy.

The boy shrugs and gets that oh-man-Dad-is-getting-mad-and-is-going-to-embarrass-me-in-public look on his face.

Our Walmart recently went through a remodel, which means that they put down new floors, moved everything in the store to a different location, and cut their selection way back… after all, they have already capitalized on offering a great selection and low prices and they have most people in the area trained to shop there, so why would they want to go through the expense of offering any sort of selection anymore? Walmart know better what you need to buy than you do… trust them, they are Walmart!

Finally spying an elusive Walmart employee, I ask where the softener salt has been moved to. The employee points out that the salt has been moved to the opposite end of the store, so the boy and I trek that direction.

After loading our cart up with softener salt, we head to the checkouts (which, it is not easy to push a cart full of bags of water softener salt through Walmart.) After paying for the crap, we start to make our way out of the store, struggling with that stupid cart full of heavy softener salt. I’m about to leave the building when one of the ‘greeters’ yells, “Excuse me… sir… sir…” and I finally realize that the dude is yelling at me “… I’m going to need to check your receipt!”

“What?” I ask.

“I’m going to need to check your receipt.”

“You think I’m stealing a cart full of water softener salt?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, I need to see your receipt.”

“Of course,” I spew. “I’m shopping at Walmart, therefore, I am the kind of person who would steal, right.” I’m pretty hot. Go into flipping Walmart, spend your hard earned money, and be treated like a criminal for it! I HATE Walmart.

“Well, if you are shopping at Walmart, you are the one that is being robbed,” says greeter-dude. He smiles. He puts his hand on my shoulder as he delivers his lame attempt at calming me down.

The boy pulls the hood of his hoodie up over his head and heads straight for the parking lot.

I’m not a violent man… mostly because I’m kind of a wimp and fear getting the snot kicked out of me… but this Walmart dude is about to lose his hand! And then, in a brief moment of clarity, I realize that this poor sap is stuck greeting ticked-off Walmart customers and making sure that the thieves aren’t running rampant through the front doors of Walmart. His employment at Walmart is punishment enough for his hand touching my person. I let him check my receipt, proving to him that not every nincompoop that graces the front stoop of Walmart is out to rob the stinking store blind (but… if you’ve ever looked around Walmart, you must realize that many of the shoppers in a Walmart are the kind of people that you would search if they spent a few minutes in you house, and by shopping at Walmart, we apparently put ourselves in the same class as this trash, and we should feel happy being treated like thieves by the greeters at Walmart after we’ve spent our hard-earned money to support their employment!)

The boy and I get home and I relay the experience to the wife.

“You shouldn’t act like that in front of the boy,” she says. “You’re setting a bad example… and it embarrasses him.”

So, I’m coming to the holy revelation that I am meant to stay away from grocery stores, and the final anchor in this feeling was pounded home the other night. My favorite ice cream in the entire world is Ben & Jerry’s Pistachio Pistachio Ice Cream. There is no better treat on the planet. We seldom have this treat. I know that 2 of the 4 grocery stores in our little berg do not carry this particular slice of heaven because they suck! That leaves us with Walmart and… heaven forbid… Safeway. After a great meal, the wife says, “Wouldn’t some Pistachio Pistachio be good right about now?”

“Oh yeah, that would be AWESOME,” I say… because I am a dorky product of the 80s.

“Well, Walmart doesn’t carry it anymore,” says the wife. “Since their remodel, they went from carrying about every flavor of Ben & Jerry’s to, I think, like, six flavors.” After all, Walmart knows better what you want to buy that you do yourself.

“What!,” I cry. If Walmart doesn’t carry my Pistachio Pistachio… and stinking Panhandle Coop doesn’t carry my Pistachio Pistachio… and the stupid Nash Finch store doesn’t carry Pistachio Pistachio… that leaves stinking Safeway, where I recently swore not another of my hard-earned pennies would be spent!

Needless to say, I called Safeway, they had Ben & Jerry’s Pistachio Pistachio Ice Cream, and the wife ran to their store and spent, I believe, about $20.00 for a pint of my favorite ice cream.

The moral of the story is… who knows?!? Corporate American SUCKS! Walmart SUCKS! Panhandle Coop and Nash Finch SUCK! I would honestly consider voting democrat if it meant our local grocery stores would stop being so stinking SUCKY and actually put the wants… no, I say, needs of the customers right up there alongside their stinking PROFITS (uh… ok, me vote democrat… hahaha… that may be pushing it… hahaha… I’m upset, I didn’t have a lobotomy.)

I guess the moral of the story has to be the same as the title of this post: Safeway SUCKS!

Dave Ramsey’s Stinking Financial Peace!

My wife and I recently finished up Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University. I am not going to dog on Dave’s system too much… ’cause I think it works and is pretty much worth the effort for anyone who wants to gain control of his or her finances. Dave teaches a lot of common sense stuff (and makes a buttload of money teaching it… how much is a buttload… well, it’s more than most of us will ever see; an amount of money that verges on the border of being uncomfortable.)

Dave teaches “baby steps” that anyone can follow and everyone could benefit from implementing. Dave’s little catch-phrase is that you should “live like no one else” (i.e. sacrifice having any sort of life-joy now,) “so later, you can live like no one else” (i.e. so if you find a way to avoid death and make it to 70, you can finally start realizing some of the fruit of your labor.) Yeah, doesn’t sound real dreamie to me either, but it sounds a lot better than completely depending on the soon-to-be-extinct Social Security (damn democrats… instead of finding more ways to spend my flipping tax money, like health care, why don’t you guarantee that I’ll get back some of the stinking Social Security benefits that I have given those who went before me!) Dave paints a much rosier picture than what I believe is truly possible for average folks out there. I think Dave may be a little unrealistic and misleading in some of his assertions and examples.

Dave Ramsey: “If you start investing $2000 per year beginning at age 12 and can make a simple 20% interest, by the time you retire at age 90, you will be a millionaire!”

Ok, this example may be a little far fetched… a little. Maybe Dave didn’t actually use any examples that were quite so retarded. It is funny, however, that whenever he gives an example of the average guy, he picks some 30 year-old schmuck making an above average income(’cause I think you have to make above average to really “live like no one else” in the long run,) and Dave proceeds to tell us all of the sacrifices this guy is going to have to make to (which usually involves, for some strange reason, a night job delivering pizza?!?); this is the first part of the “live like no one else.” Then, when we get to the second half of the “live like no one else,” Dave is throwing out examples of multimillionaires (like himself) who can drop cash for about anything because, well, they’re multimillionaires. The thing is, that 30 year-old schmuck isn’t going to get Dave Ramsey-rich just because he delivered pizzas. The only way to get Dave Ramsey-rich is to make a lot of money through your career (maybe by charging honest folks $100 to take your class where you can teach them how to find financial peace…,) which those of us living in the remote, rural areas of this country will never do. So, although Dave never actually comes out and says that the 30 year-old schmuck will get Dave Ramsey-rich, the way the “live like no one else, so later, you can live like no one else” is presented could be interpreted as a little misleading by anyone who is actually paying attention.

In most of his examples, Dave starts with a savings plan starting at or around age 30 and a retirement age of 70. He gives several examples of how you can amass a ton of wealth (MILLIONS) by investing X amount of money at age 30, making 12% on that money, and retiring when you are 70. First of all, I don’t know what the average age is of someone going through Financial Peace University… but I’m guessing it is well above 30. Crap, I’m 40, so I guess I would have to retire at 80 to hit Dave’s projections. Second, 12% earnings on a retirement fund may be slightly unrealistic in today’s market. I’m going to cut Dave a little slack on this one because the video series I watched was made like 2 years ago (I think it was made in 2008), so things are a little less financially rosy at present time than they were 2 years ago, and who know, maybe the markets will completely rebound and no other major damage will be done to the markets again (but I think the radical Muslims may have a thing or two to say about that.) Finally, even if I had started working toward financial peace 10 years ago, I have no intention of working until I’m 70! Hell, I have no intention of living until I’m 70, so why would I base future plans on retiring at that age?

Dave Ramsey is, first and foremost, a salesman. He tries to sell his ideas, and his books, and his program, and his swag (it kills me that Dave preaches that we shouldn’t spend money on unnecessary crap and there, right in the middle of his workbook which tells you not to buy crap, is an add for all kinds of Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University CRAP that Dave would love for you to buy… ’cause God knows that coffee is going to taste a helluva lot better while you’re doing all this personal sacrifice stuff if you’re drinking it out of a Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University coffee mug!) Dave portrays himself as, you know, just this dude who is trying to help others. He is so willing to help others that it only costs like $100 to take his course that will help you gain control over… uh… your money. But seriously, no harm, no foul. The dude needs to make money, and the course is well worth the money it costs to take… but the “I’m just here to help you” front doesn’t fly. Dave, if you are going to be honest with us and yourself, let’s try, “I’m here to help you, but it’s gonna cost you about 100 bucks because that’s how I got Dave Ramsey-rich and I ain’t ever going back, you’re gonna have to sacrifice more than you are probably comfortable with and you are going to miss out on a lot of crap for now, and you will NEVER be as rich as me. Want to buy a Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University fanny-pack?”

Dave works a biblical approach into his plan, which I like. He actually seems sincere when it comes to his faith, so I’ll give him props for that.

One of the portions of the course I really enjoyed was Dave’s philosophy on insurance. He starts out this section of the course talking about how insurance agents HATE this part of the course. Dave then goes on to talk about why whole life insurance is for idiots and all kinds of other things that I’m sure most insurance agents would not like the average person thinking about. Well, Dave gets done, the DVD player gets turned off, and the one insurance agent we have in our class goes off about how Dave Ramsey is not “all knowing”; about how Dave Ramsey is a salesman more than anything, after all we all paid for his class… he isn’t doing it for free… and about how each individual’s insurance needs are different and we can’t all base our needs for insurance off of what Dave Ramsey is trying to sell us on. In other words, the insurance agent in our class HATED this part of the course. The thing is, the “crappy” stuff that insurance agents try to do which Dave discussed are not things this agent does. I think Dave ended up pissing every person off in our class with one point or another… and it wasn’t that I really enjoyed Dave’s teaching so much as I enjoyed watching how right Dave was about insurance agents not liking this part of the course. Our insurance agent (who is, by the way, a good, honest person… and I like the dude) made this section enjoyable just by how much he let it upset him. It’s always fun to watch someone unnecessarily defend what they do for a living! I know, I used to work for a cell phone company… and there are few jobs that require more defense than when you represent one of the cell phone monsters:

“Isn’t cell phone insurance a rip-off?”

“Well, it makes it easier to replace your phone if something happens to it.”

“But you don’t get a new phone, do you?”

“No, you don’t. You get a refurbished phone.”

“How can you push cell phone insurance when it puts a customer in a refurbished phone?”

“Because I have had the people without insurance come up to me with the 2-day old phone that they dropped in the toilet and which now does not work, and I have had to explain to them that they are under a two-year contract and they have no insurance so their only option is to spend $200 or more full-retail price for a replacement phone. These people almost always yell at me, like I make the rules or I have the power to just give them a brand new phone because they have, after all, been a customer for three years or something. I don’t like being yelled at, I have no control over the policies and procedures of the company, you’re the retard that dropped a $300 cell phone in the toilet, I don’t make any more commission just because you have been a customer for three years… in fact, I don’t make any money unless you actually purchase something… and did I mention that I hate being yelled at… so buy the stupid insurance and quit wasting my time.”

Yeah, working at the cell phone company sucked… the money was good, but people are pretty stupid when it comes to their cell phones. Anyway… long story short (too late), I understand the insurance dude trying to justify around Dave Ramsey’s observations. No one likes to have what they do called into question by a “professional” like Dave Ramsey. Thank goodness there were no credit card customer service reps in our class 🙂

Probably my favorite lesson in the Financial Peace University course was the one on careers. Dave said some stuff that I thought really made sense. He spoke of finding a job that utilizes your natural talents. He said that those who tell you that you can “learn” to overcome personality traits that work against certain aspects of your career… well, those people are full of crap (ok, he didn’t say crap, but it was implied.) If managing people, or outside sales, or whatever, is not something you are good at or comfortable with, you will not “learn” to be good at this stuff. You need to find something you are naturally good at or enjoy and go full forward with that. I love this advice… and I agree wholeheartedly! Those people who tell you that you need to “work outside of your comfort zone” to be successful have no idea how extraordinarily craptastic the area outside of the comfort zone can be for many of us!

Dave refers to using personality tests to help you figure out what careers you can be successful in. Upon completing the Gary Smalley test, I have determined that I am almost 100% pure golden retriever, which means I have no self-confidence and do almost anything to avoid conflict… wow, big surprise there. There aren’t exactly a ton of high-dollar jobs available to golden retrievers.

Librarian was one that I think I would actually love… but that would mean, probably, another stinking bachelor’s degree PLUS a MLS degree to actually be able to make ok money… so, at 40, sell the house, take out some student loans, go back to school, and hopefully by the time I’m 50 I can have a career I love… and a crapload more debt. Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.

I can’t really remember what other jobs a golden retriever could excel at, but I know they all paid CRAP! For example, I would probably make an excellent file clerk. I don’t care how long I work as a file clerk… or how GREAT I get a being a file clerk… or how indispensable I become to my employer as a file clerk… I ain’t ever topping about 12 bucks an hour as a file clerk, and I REALLY ain’t gonna get even close to Dave Ramsey-rich at $12 an hour. Ok, so the “follow your personality trait” deal sounds golden… but in all reality, I think it’s really just a stinking pile of pyrite.

Dave Ramsey has some great ideas, and if you are having issues with your personal finances… or have no idea how you are ever going to be able to retire… you might want to check Dave out. Dave’s system is not get rich quick (and he stresses that it is not get rich quick.) Financial Peace University is touted as a get-rich-very-slowly-system, and if your earnings are above average, you can get there. For those of us with a little less income coming in through the front door, Financial Peace University may offer us the hope of not having to reverse-mortgage our homes to survive when we retire!