Just Wandering

And what it said was……

“I’m calling to inform you that your account has been closed and all balances have been erased inclusive of any late fees accumulated. Further we have contacted the  collection agency involved and we trust you will receive no further contact from them. If we can assist you in any other matter please contact us. “

Well that pleased me no end and all was suddenly right with the world as a fifteen month glitch has finally disappeared….until last night, nine days later when I got in from work to find my mail patiently waiting. One singular and lonely piece of correspondence….. It was a bill for $84.00 from Century Link and not the collection agency as promised. It included the $14.93 that they received so long ago along with its late fee. I guess this will go on my credit report that has actually remained somewhat stellar….but I’m thinking that as I can’t afford a loan of any kind anyway….I’m just going to ostrich my head in the sand and ignore it all….

It also left us with a large mound of unwanted one inch p stone….“ Now what?”  And in answer to my thoughts Mag said…..

  “Did ya know Richie that if ya skin a baby seal and turn him inside out it makes a great carry bag?” …… well I didn’t know and further, Albert seemed delighted to hear that he was the first person I had ever met that actually knew what a seal tasted like.

  “ Taste like fish…but the meat is purple.” and Albert went on to lay claim that his mother and father were the first people in Teller to posses a television set.

 “ Probably a moot point with out electricity wasn’t it Albert?” I asked

 “ Very true Richie….and when they did get it…the reception sucked.”

  I’ve tried to contact Albert on the internet from time to time but in all likely hood he’s busy chasing reindeer. I hope he finds the time to tell a story about me sometime…..up there in Alaska.

Accounting

Management …. or any literate employee

From : Richard Berthiaume…{ Not Berthieume }

Acct. #3111614xx

xxxx1 Oceanslide Ave.

Port Charlotte Fl. 33952

Ph. 941-979-2xxx

Sir/Madam ,

Please read…. Over a year ago I signed up for your internet service which I found quite good. However after five months I received a disconnect notice for lack of payment. This was a glitch. As it turns out Century Link was paid through online banking diligently every month. They just didn’t know where the money was going but we did eventually sort it out and life returned to normal.

Another five months later I’m disconnected…again for lack of payment and again to discover that your billing department has in fact been receiving payment every month. Again its sorted out leaving me a bill of

$ 14.93 which I paid and have the picture of the check cashed by Century Link to prove it. Next month my bill arrived with a late fee and the said $14.93 added on.

I’m sure you understand my angst at this point and I then cancelled my account both by phone and in writing. But the bills still keep coming and still with the $14.93 attached. Now that its in the hands of a collection agency I am more than angry.

As an aside, I have made six attempts to correct the spelling of my name. Twice in person, twice by phone, twice by correspondence…..no dice. For a company with such a fine product I find your customer service shameful.

Please….lets make this go away

I do thank you for your time on this matter,

Sincerely,

Richard Berthiaume

Its started again. The letters from The Department of Social Security have again begun to show their ugly faces in my post box…..

“ We are responding to your request for information “ was how one of the recent letters began. Rather a might opposite to the previous correspondence which was “requesting” information. As it turns out there are some important questions to be answered over my wifes’ income for the year 2010. Now I’ll throw this out for all the world to see…including Social Security and IRS…

“ In the year 2010 my wife made $160.00 a week for nine months ”…..what else do we need to know ? ? Just how important can this possibly be ?

When I started to receive messages on my cell phone the likes of….

“ This is Susan Hassleblog at the Social Security and we have some questions for your wife…please have her return this call at 877-405-0490 extension 18054 ” we decided it best to just go to a local S.S. office and confront this face to face….

The woman we met, coincidentally also a Susan, was pleasant and genuinely tried to be helpful , though to no avail. Computer search as hard as she might she could find no reason for the S.S. to wish to speak with us whatsoever . She did mention more than once however that my name sounded extremely familiar…….

“ Are you on Social Security ? Do you collect any benefit at all ? “ she seemed sure I did.

“ I collect a weekly pay check that covers our expenses if I refuse to pay the bills, but no government benefit whatsoever “ I explained and then went home…the mystery unsolved.

Yesterday morning I found another phone message….

“ This is Susan Hassleblog at the Social Security office, we met yesterday and I think I found out why the Social Security wants to speak with your wife….please have her contact me at 877-405-0490 extension 18054”

Good grief…the woman who originally tried to contact us by mail and phone turns out to be the same blank stare we pointlessly sat in front of the other day. We’ve returned the call twice and left a message, obviously a wasted effort as no return calls have yet arrived. We sit patiently now expecting that a thorough investigation has taken place and they’ve discovered the $27.00 my wife earned under the table one Saturday morning six months ago. I’m sure we’ll wind up accountable…and I wonder if those politicians so quick to protect corporations from unnecessary tax burden will be as quick to help us evade the $4.00 we owe…….

“ It’s driving girls places and stuff “ and so I immediately thought of the young girls academy just down the road that had recently advertised the need of a gardener. You know, take em to museums and sporting events, other campuses, etc. Later the “woman in charge” explained that what it “really was” was that they were a group of strippers and pole dancers and I’d be required to transport them and their “equipment” to the clubs……and as I answered yes to the “ Are you allright with that?” question I was granted an interview and consequently awarded my new position..

Turns out they weren’t really dancers…they were hookers and I carted them from job to job discreetly in my 1962 Volkswagon Beetle. It was an ok gig until one afternoon I got a call to pick up a girl I’d not seen before. Upon entering my beetle I couldn’t help but note her size, she….it …they… made the little beetle appear so much smaller. And so the conversation turned to the fact that she was halfway through her operations to become a “real” woman, all the while preening herself in my rearview mirror.

As we sat first in line at a red light “she” caught me giving her the sidelong fisheye and so responded with “ And the tits ain‘t bad either honey.” As she pulled up the tight tank top to expose a truly magnificent breast regardless of its origin or gender…she was right. The delighted and not so delighted pedestrians paraded past the beetles windshield and I sat and begged to Christ that he “please don’t let any one I know see me now” .

And so I dropped him …..her, at the motel rendezvous and instead of waiting the normal hour I drove away, thus ending one of many interesting though short lived career choices.

“ I’m in Sydney for a week and I have an expense account….quit your job and get over here .” and so I did just that and the next morning found me on the 1,000 mile Ansett Airlines flight Adelaide to Sydney where I discovered that Dave did indeed have an expense account. One evening while denting said account we befriended an older American tourist and Daves gift of the gab convinced the guy he ought to get his head shaved and have rams horns tattooed on….. “ You can play pro ball “ was the defining argument and so we all toddled off to a famous Tat palace in Kings Cross.

Likely growing tired of my incessant rants over how America screwed itself out of being the mightiest manufacturing nation on earth my young nephew sent me an interesting article. It begins with how we were the manufacturers of everything the world could want, and the world did want our products. But then goes on to explain how little we make now. We do have a few holdouts however, but……

Did you know we manufacture no flatware in the United States ? …or can a single sardine ?….. Are you not concerned that we manufacture not a single button down shirt or a clothes hanger on which to hang it?…. Or even a replacement button for it. Well the article goes on to explain that there are a few….very few…jobs we haven’t lost to the Chinese and lists ten of them. All of these industries are in peril with the possible exception of the last one. We make bowling balls Sparklers Compact discs Pianos Socks Ironing boards Pencils Sneakers Electrical relays……

Well that’s only nine you say and you are quite correct. So what could possibly be a “growing“ manufacturing industry that exports its product that’s made here in the United States ?…… please sit.

We manufacture chopsticks for export to China….billions of em. Each and every one stamped with “Made in USA” . Now you might think me evil but ya know….maybe the Republicans are right….we should abolish the EPA. That way we could also manufacture lead paint again so those chopsticks could all be painted in wonderfully appetizing colors.

The article is titled  10 Industries still hanging on.

a devoted love, support, and defense of one’s country; national loyalty. — patriot, n. — patriotic, adj.                                                                                                                                                                         Well that’s the descriptive according to an on hand dictionary…but what the hell does that mean? “Devoted love, support, and defense of one’s country.” One’s country meaning what??…the physical earth upon which it sits ?…or are we talking a group of humans bonded by a similar history or past, ideology…or hope for a future and therefore loyal to each other ?….

The other day I read the news and one particular article was about a form of patriotism I would be proud to say was American …..but the article wasn’t about us. The article was in relation to the recent devastation in Japan due to an 8.9 magnitude earthquake and subsequent nuclear power plant leak. The article explained that last week Seventy Eight Million Dollars in cash and valuables found in wallets and small private safes found amidst the debris were returned to the rightful owners……can we as Americans really comprehend what that statement has to say ? ……

Well it says I get to read about the aftermath in Japan. Japan gets to read about our national embarrassment such as the likes of post Katrina New Orleans. When I came out of a shelter after Floridas Hurricane Charley back in 04 I made it home just in time to find a Latino gang from another town attempting to enter my front door to shop for what little I had left. Somehow I doubt many Japanese can relate to that experience.

The Japanese know what patriotism really means….we have to look up the word in a dictionary.

“ But eighty guys just walked by with fully functional firearms “ was my lame defense.

….and so that’s the news that caught my eye yesterday. A story of a Father teaching his sons what’s right though it could cost $50,000 . I think most would balk at trading 50 large in for a feel good moment, I‘m sure I would need a second thought.

 But Pat Smith did and I think that makes him worthy of a tip of the hat from us all. I can only imagine how many people will raise an eyebrow to Pat, or how many school mates of Nick and Nate will point out with disdain, their foolishness.

 Somehow in my odd sense of sensibilities I hope this is so….for it will only enlarge the learning that a real father hopes to impart. It will offer those two young men the opportunity to glare back into the eyes of criticism with the audacity owned only by those truly proud of doing right.

Well done Pat Smith and Sons….

Pat I see you as a real Father of real men. And I wish you were a politician as my country could use more of the likes of you.

Michael and I have met a few times over the past three years through a mutual semi work related acquaintance. Michael is a financially comfortable guy and certainly not above an occasional boast over all his accomplishments, meaning financial of course. Michael also whines a lot…. though he’s stopped doing it in front of me……He whines about taxes, over spending by the government, entitlements cost too much, welfare Momma’s suck and unemployment recipient cheats should be hung by their parastic balls along with demanding union types.

Frankly I might be prone to agree with a fair amount of what Michael says but for one small fact….Michael proudly “earns” his daily bread day trading. That’s sitting in front of a puter three hours a day gambling on the market. Let me explain my view as I’ve tried to explain to Mike….a day trader produces what?…that’s right, nothing… creates what ?…that’s right, nothing. Employs how many ?…that’s right, no one, helps who ?…your catching on. In fact his sole existence evolves around an attempt to skim free money sans effort, off the top as it marches around the financial musical chairs. He benefits at the loss of all those doing the actual trudging around that row of chairs and I believe Wagners would claim this to a descriptive of a parasite. And so would I…….but I guess that’s  just the natural order of things

Now the plumbing department was always filled with those whose problems were of an imminent nature while flooring decisions tend to be made at a more leisurely pace. As I sat at the puter ready to type in the tile order the young guy before me said…..

“ Wait….I better double check with the wife again. “ and so he whipped out one of those fantastic $300.00 phones and stood in the classic texting position and furiously banged out a message….his thumbs nimble and quick from untold hours of practice and he was obviously proud of this skill. We then  waited for the return message…which was not long in coming and he immediately put the thumbs into motion again. She answered again and I pictured her at home furiously typing away while surveying the scene of the future new tile floor. This went on for some time while I wondered what the hell is wrong with the spoken word. Then a lady with a shopping cart arrived on the scene to break this all up…..it was her. She had been ninety feet away all this time perusing the shelving aisle.

So…this is progress. I don’t think it should stop until we are back to using Morse code. It would certainly make the roads safer as there would at least be little need to take the eyes off the road……

The replacement part for my cheap shit Maytag washer made in Mexico out of Chinese parts was actually made right here in the good old U. S. of A.. ..I came close to a genuflection and shrine construction but instead installed it into the Maytag at the sound of the wife’s impatient toe tapping.

Comcast was scheduled to arrive at 2:00 pm that day but came at 9:30 a.m. allowing me to conclude my agitated relationship with Century Link. Century Link is whining I owe them the $14 still and refuse to close the account till its paid. That’s fine and I’m hoping they press the issue as I do have a receipt and plenty of left over agitation.

And that’s about as fine a day as a low wage Blue Collar can expect now a days……

” This will help American Farmers “

Well I certainly hope it helps American Farmers a lot more than it helps them by bringing produce in from overseas. You know the produce I’m talking about…it’s the stuff that remains rock hard right up to the day it begins to rot. And rather appropriately I think for our Wal Mart society.

Here’s something else to give a little thought to. I personally know a chicken farm owner in Colombia . Her farm provides a lot of employment and a lot of chickens to local markets, groceries and restaurants. Her fear of the possibilty of the importation of American poultry is well founded. As our farms up here are worked by low paid imported labor we can now go south and compete with her in her already competitive market. She says if that happens

“ I’ll have no choice but to cut wages “ also adding, “ Just like you guys do in the United States. “ and so there, just like here , a blue collar will take it in the “neck”.

There are an awful lot of us who have voted for those deemed to be “pro business” for the past twenty five years. How’s that working out ?

Imagine how cool it would be if farmers here in the good old USA produced food to be consumed right here…instead of corn to dilute my gas by 10% that gives me an 11% reduction in fuel economy. This must be the promised New World Order some one touted not all that many years ago,

Ya know….for such an educated and basically intelligent nation

We really ain’t all that smart

You may remember that last year I signed up with Century Link to provide me my internet service. After five months of diligently paying my bill through online banking I received a disconnect notice for failure to pay. Any who have experienced a similar scenario knows….this is a bitch to rectify. But it was rectified and so I continued my online payments for another five consecutive months until I was disconnected….again for lack of payment.
This time it took a month to rectify and delete the late fees and $30.00 reconnect fee and get back to life as normal. And back to life as normal is exactly what happened. I just received a large bill from Century link along with a late fee for failure to pay last months bill and I stand here with proof of payment. The camels back has snapped and Comcast arrives next Tuesday , the beginning I’m certain, of yet another tale to tell.
Need I ask….”What do we expect ?”….after all here in the United States we have young Mexicans constructing buildings having just finished two months of training while skilled tradesmen try to eek it out mowing lawns. The big box hardware store I work at took my 36 years of masonry experience and placed it in the plumbing department…..like most things now, we don’t need to know what we’re doing….as long as we’re cheap.
I don’t know what work history the billing department at Century Link might possess……but I’m betting it had nothing to do with billing and just as well as they now have one less bill to worry about.

Here in Florida we have what’s known as a lanai…a sort of sun room or back porch. My lanai is special as it sports but one decoration…the head of a hand made broom woven from reed fronds. It was hand woven from plants that grew wild from where it originated. And it was hand woven by me under the tutelage of Reynaldo Ruiz….a master at the art of hand made Colombian brooms ……

Eighty five year old Reynaldo’s response was ….

“ That was twenty years ago ! “

That was our first meeting and I immediately liked “Don Reynaldo” …the Colombian equivalent of George Burns. He was a rare breed in Colombia in that he was somewhat middle class financially, didn’t swear…use tobacco or alcohol and insisted on washing his own socks and underwear. He made brooms by hand to sell to the neighborhood at cost. He cut hair for all that would knock on his door, played guitar for those that would listen….and he built a school and provided a teacher for those that worked his coffee farm in the mountains a few hours away. I guess that would make him a rare breed anywhere and I’m proud to have known such a man.

When I went to meet Senor Ruiz that day in 1989 I brought along a coin as a gift. A United States silver dollar with the 1904 date of his birth and today that coin was returned by the family to me. He died on August 17, 1996 leaving my wife and I a part of his legacy….and a part of that legacy is the piece of land with the school on it. I hope that school always remains….and when I go, buried or cremated…I hope that silver dollar is in my pocket.

Via con Dios…e mi pensimientos Senor Ruiz.

That’s what the parts dealer barked when I handed over the water sensor switch I had just removed from my Maytag washer. I had decided to buy the cheaper part first instead of Maytags’ recommendation of changing both timer and switch together.

“ I can get that part for $48.00 online…thanks any way “

“ Yeah well…you’ll probably have to pay shipping” was the sneer….

and so I drove home with the intention of ordering the part online for my cheap shit Made in Mexico out of Chinese parts washer. But along the way Mags said….

“ I need to do a laundry today”…….and so I figured I would reinstall the defective part and we would hand ring the sopping wet clothing before placing them in the cheap shit made in Mexico out of Chinese parts dryer.

As is usually the case as of late the latest and greatest engineering has caused the simplest of tasks to become….well, beyond aggravating. So in order to get the part correctly back in its original home I allowed rage to take over and literally punched the son of a bitch into place.

The cheap shit Made in Mexico out of Chinese parts washer with original defective part, has worked flawlessly ever since. Just goes to show….American finesse and skill is and hopefully always will be, far superior to the results of our “need” to be competitive in a global economy.

Eventually it rained and I lept aboard for the maiden voyage and quickly permitted the very cherry blade to discover the one sole and lonely large rock in all of S.W. Florida. As it turns out it not only removed 6 oz. of blade but bent an item known as a spindle as well. Naturally enough I couldn’t find the parts locally and so ordered them on line through Sears. Par for every course I’ve ever played the incorrect parts arrived by UPS a week later creating a need for one of those dreaded calls to a Customer Service Dept.

“ I’m sorry Sir, but your model number requires a three bolt spindle housing ……and that’s what we sent you”

“ Yes …I know, but you see, regardless of model number, my spindle housing has “four” bolts. I counted them “ I attempted to convince.

“ But my schematics clearly show three bolt housing…I don’t know what to do about this.” she said clearly feeling she held the upper hand.

“ I’m at the computer right now looking at your schematics…..your schematics are wrong……and what you can do is please send me the incorrect part with the four bolts.” and she did and it fit and the following week I followed a job to North Carolina for a few months forcing me to hire a professional grass cutter while the little lawn tractor languished in the garage. That mower was eventually sold at a $200.00 loss only ever cutting the grass twice……

And I was thinking about all this yesterday when my 15 month old Maytag washer started indicating its need for a new timer and sensor…..the manufacturer recommends changing both at the same time…..$ 142.65 for the two parts. And this brings me to a query…..If Maytag can get a tax incentive to manufacture in a Free Trade Zone….and then bring the goods back with out an import tax…..how come I pay the same as when they were made right here with Union labor ?

But that’s not the real question right now….the real question is how many attempts to get the right part will it take …..deep down I already know. I’ll keep ya informed

a long slow thumb

“ When I was a young man I carried me pack,

I waltzed the Matilda all over….. “

And so are the words of a song I’ve long enjoyed having, in a past life…. “waltzed the Matilda all over”. Waltzing the Matilda, or in my case, backpacking the globe has shown itself to be a life long lesson . I remember first hitting the road with a pack of immense weight….it held nothing more than my idea of the absolute necessities. After a while however it became apparent that I really didn’t need to carry a shirt for every day. Later I learned that If I wore shorts six days a week there was little need to carry three pairs of long pants. And I learned I was happier carrying one pair than carrying three and so I culled my 48 lbs of necessities down to 17lbs , including of course the tooth brush that I cut half the handle from eliminating 2 oz. .

As unintelligible as this may sound…. I sometimes miss those days when I owned nothing more than those 17 lbs as they always provided me days of life long memories. Those days of culling the weight down from 48 to 17 were fun….as the choice to do so were mine. But here I am again, using those lessons all over again to cull from 48 lbs to 17 lbs . This time however, the choice is not mine…..its in the hands of two political parties. Two political parties so vehemently opposed to each other that regardless of who might prevail….I, a conservative minded American blue collar….am

Totally screwed

“ Happy anniversary Rich ! “………

“ What ? ………..shit.” So I quickly cell phoned Mag to say….

“ Happy Aniversary Hon “ and a very long silence was eventually broken by…..

“ What ?….shit.”

“ Well ain’t that nice“ I said….“deals off. Forget the flowers and resteraunt baby” and so , being the injured party….I hung up on her.

Well here it is again…July 6^th….and I forgot again. There is no slithering out of it this year. I just don’t understand how I keep forgetting. After all, it was exactly twenty years and one day ago today that I fly fished for trout in the Contoocook River for the very first time….and that was a memorable day.

Where we lived in the Smoky mountains was …..well simply beautiful. Seemingly idyllic with a fresh and wonderful scene to ogle around every endless bend in the road. Beneath the opposite glove however was one of the prices to be ponied up for this wondrous benefit ….a small amount of inconvenience .

“ Give it a rest will you ?” was a response from Mag as I lamented, yet again over the difficulty of obtaining things I needed. She heard me whine when there were only 37 glass blocks in stock and I needed 46. This forcing another half hours drive to a Home Depot to discover they carry the blocks but not the appropriate mortar creating a 35 minute extension to the road trip. This earning the discovery that the next Home Depot has the mortar…..but doesn’t carry the block. She heard the semi tantrum over driving an hour to discover the supplier was 4 sq.ft. short of the required bathroom tile needed for a project. My close to tears blubbering over a thirty five mile three town unsuccessful search for distilled water brought little sympathy and she clearly didn‘t understand the angst over a forty minute drive to discover Lowes has every drill bit but the needed one.

Once again blaming the luck of my left footed birth Mag said…….

“Its you….no one can have such a hard time as you with this shit.” and I wondered yet again if this might not be so.

One day Mag was concocting a home made recipe for some kind of skin cream she had gleaned from a magazine and so built a small shopping list to be filled at the closest pharmacy of any size. At the pharmacy we found three girls in the aisle un packing boxes and Mag asked of the first item on the list….

“ Rose water ?” creating a six eyed blinking stare and the need to repeat…

“ Where is the rose water please ? “ and the leader then spoke up to inform that…….

“ It’s prolly in the back cooler with tha other cold drinks “

I never asked about the effectiveness of the skin cream minus a key ingredient….but I did notice she never made it again . And I did notice she seemed almost sympathetic when the man at the auto parts store counter informed me that they only had “one” of the pair of rear shock absorbers my pickup so sorely wanted.

The 1958 Ford taxi in which I rode had a very cliché cracked windshield that helped take the mind off the endless creaks and groans its undercarriage emanated. It finalized its long and arduous trek up the single lane mountainous dirt road to deposit me in the hustle of market day in El Aguila, {The Eagle} Valle, Colombia . It was quickly apparent that El Aguila saw little interference from the outside world…in fact at the time of this visit it had received the benefit of electricity only two years prior. I was thrilled to learn that no one could remember a foreigner having visited before giving me the pleasure of a truly National Geographic feeling.

Having acquired this National Geographic feeling I entered the towns sole restaurant for one of my all time favorites….Empanadas e un Bandeja Paisa. Half way through the first bite I saw it there with its pride of place on the wall…..a very old wooden picture frame wrapping itself around a large picture of the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge. No one I spoke with knew where it came from and I entertain the hope that it remains there still, its origin a mystery eternal ..

I learned how to recline on the back of a packed mule while there, draping my legs over the sack of coffee to steer the animals direction with simple touches of my feet upon his neck. And one day, in front of the video camera, I was given a hat and my brother in laws shotgun….a mean looking thing with a 14 inch barrel and cut off butt stock on a sling….for the benefit of the viewers back home.

“ For the benefit of the viewers back home….what If my Mother watches this ? “ ….I thought, concerned that my Mother might view this and be alarmed by its definitely non tourist like appearance. And so I held the little shotgun up and proclaimed to the camera….

“ Its for bird hunting “…….. Mom did in fact view this video and she asked with true innocence…..

“ Oh….you went bird hunting did you ? “

Things change endlessly and everywhere and El Aguila is accessed now by a paved road to the joy of all who live or travel there . Personally……I’m glad I knew it as it was

The wife’s family brought us a gift of a couple of brands of coffee on their recent visit from Colombia. Now the misses usually brings back a suitcase full of beans from our farm every year and as we were getting close to the end of it their timing was great. Tonight I opened one of those bags of coffee to prep for tomorrows brew and was attracted by the unfamiliar packaging and so stopped to peruse the somewhat foriegn advertising.

She stared in disbelief as she knew the farm first hand….it is very close to where she grew up. How small is the world….