Golf and taxes: Drive hard to get to the green. End up in a hole.
Truth doesn’t hurt except on a 1040: Today is the day. Poor Richard’s Almanac 2008: The taxman cometh. Behind every successful man stands a good woman and the IRS. One takes all the credit and the other takes all the cash. A harp is a piano after taxes. Being poor is no guarantee you won’t be audited. If the meek inherit the earth I’m sure it will put them in the 40% tax bracket. Can you imagine Patrick Henry alive today? He’d see real taxation without representation. Finally on this topic, remember the old saw, “A penny earned is a penny taxed.”
The old high school reunion: Every five or ten or perhaps 20 years many Americans go back home to attend their high school reunion. We are always shocked at how old everybody else is looking, how the high school foxes now look like armadillos and the former geeks make you wonder why you didn’t notice them in high school. A friend of mine tells me that at his reunion his wife commented on a frumpy looking gal sitting alone at a nearby table drinking like a fish. His wife asked who she was and my friend said she was an old flame of his who took up drinking after they’d broken up and had rarely seen a sober day since. The wife commented, “My God! Who would think a person would go on celebrating so long?”
Dad, Can I drive the Popemobile: Seems like “W” doesn’t have much to do around the White House these days. Johnny Mac isn’t exactly bombarding him with requests for appearances at fundraisers and he can only go over to Putin’s house to play so often before he wears out his welcome. So Uncle Dick or Condi or whoever is in charge of such things had a great idea when they told him to take the limo and go pick up the Pope at the airport. I wonder if he plans to look into Pope Benedict’s eyes and see his soul.
Records are made to be broken: Today is tax day but that is not the only reason to say “Ouch!” At this writing oil prices have set another record at $ 113+ per barrel. That is neither light nor sweet but it makes a fellow want to say something crude about oil. Not only will that cause another jump at the pump but the bump will trump airfares. Stock prices will slump. Portfolios will dump. Employees will grump. We’re being played for a chump. Meanwhile Exxon and their pals continue to stump for more tax breaks.
Up up and Away: Southwest Airlines looks like it will move from the 6th to the 5th largest U.S. Airline without adding a passenger. If Delta and Northwest merge as expected, there will be one less company to rank. The merger will catapult the new airline (Nelta? Deltest?) to the #1 slot. Passengers will now have a much larger ogre to abuse them.
A little blogging music Maestro… anything from Air Supply would work.
Dr. Forgot
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Friday's Follies
The Gene Pool Could Use a Little Chlorine
Here, there, and everywhere: Years ago I went to a conference in San Francisco. The conference ended about 10 a.m. and I’d made flight reservations for 5 p.m. so I could see some of the tourist attractions. The Hilton had a pen for storing luggage. Apparently I’m not the only visitor who needed storage. A fertility conference followed ours and early arriving doctors had stored theirs and also did some sightseeing.
With bags safely stored I visited, had lunch, walked the waterfront, and returned to pick up my bags and head to the airport. At home Mrs. Dr. Forgot opened my luggage and opined as to why my bag was filled with ladies undergarments and “dirty pictures.” I was confused until I picked up notes (not mine) for a lecture on “Human Fertility Among Pre-menstrual Asian Women.”
I phoned the hotel and the doctor who was to have given the lecture the following day was in a panic looking for his notes. I took his bag to the local Hilton and it was delivered by courier in time. All’s well that ends well. That had been my best travel story until now.
Friends, neighbors, and friends of neighbors: I live across the street from Bob and Sally, the world’s best neighbors. They watch the house, feed the cat, and bring over fresh fruit from Bob’s fruit trees. They have friends, Charlie and Jeannie from Hurricane, UT who drove to their house then caught a flight to Kalamazoo, or Tippecanoe, or Timbuktu. Upon their return Charlie exclaimed how fortunate he was to have gotten his bags among the first to be regurgitated by the baggage monster at the carousel.
Good flight. Bad after flight: After a 14-hour day they finally arrived home in Hurricane to find their phone with a dozen irate messages from the same person - the one whose bag looked exactly like Charlie’s and who was at the hotel without appropriate attire for his breakfast speech the following morning. Charlie is what we used to describe as a mild-mannered man. His new wardrobe-less friend’s demeanor sat somewhere between the average inflictor of pain in the Third Reich and Osama bin Laden’s enforcers.
The voice on the phone demanded that Charlie immediately drive back to Las Vegas to return the bag. Charlie explained that Hurricane, UT was nearly a 3 hour drive from Las Vegas and although his Hybrid Prius sipped gas at about 50 mpg, he was exhausted and in fact the drive would be unsafe this time of night. Was a fresh shirt more important than life and limb? “Yes,” came the reply. “Drink some coffee and get your butt to Vegas.”
Jeannie then reminded Charlie that a shuttle left St. George (a mere hour’s drive from Hurricane) at 5:00 a.m. So they caught a few zees and at 4:00 the next morning drove in the dark to St. George and discovered the shuttle driver to be most accommodating, especially after Charlie offered a little grease to the palm. Once the suitcase was aboard and en route Charlie phoned Mr. Nasty to advise him. The snarly response was something to the effect that, “It damn well better get here on time,” and “You’re gonna pay my cab fare to and from the airport.” Bag delivered. Mr. Nasty off to his breakfast meeting.
Mr. Nasty sounds like the kind of guy who would off his parents and plead for mercy because he’s an orphan. Charlie, on the other hand, has much more patience and caring for his fellow man than most. Call me Mr. Lucky – living across the street from the world’s best neighbors and having met the Prince of Hurricane, UT.
A little blogging music Maestro… Duane Eddy’s, “40 Miles of Bad Road.”
Dr. Forgot
Here, there, and everywhere: Years ago I went to a conference in San Francisco. The conference ended about 10 a.m. and I’d made flight reservations for 5 p.m. so I could see some of the tourist attractions. The Hilton had a pen for storing luggage. Apparently I’m not the only visitor who needed storage. A fertility conference followed ours and early arriving doctors had stored theirs and also did some sightseeing.
With bags safely stored I visited, had lunch, walked the waterfront, and returned to pick up my bags and head to the airport. At home Mrs. Dr. Forgot opened my luggage and opined as to why my bag was filled with ladies undergarments and “dirty pictures.” I was confused until I picked up notes (not mine) for a lecture on “Human Fertility Among Pre-menstrual Asian Women.”
I phoned the hotel and the doctor who was to have given the lecture the following day was in a panic looking for his notes. I took his bag to the local Hilton and it was delivered by courier in time. All’s well that ends well. That had been my best travel story until now.
Friends, neighbors, and friends of neighbors: I live across the street from Bob and Sally, the world’s best neighbors. They watch the house, feed the cat, and bring over fresh fruit from Bob’s fruit trees. They have friends, Charlie and Jeannie from Hurricane, UT who drove to their house then caught a flight to Kalamazoo, or Tippecanoe, or Timbuktu. Upon their return Charlie exclaimed how fortunate he was to have gotten his bags among the first to be regurgitated by the baggage monster at the carousel.
Good flight. Bad after flight: After a 14-hour day they finally arrived home in Hurricane to find their phone with a dozen irate messages from the same person - the one whose bag looked exactly like Charlie’s and who was at the hotel without appropriate attire for his breakfast speech the following morning. Charlie is what we used to describe as a mild-mannered man. His new wardrobe-less friend’s demeanor sat somewhere between the average inflictor of pain in the Third Reich and Osama bin Laden’s enforcers.
The voice on the phone demanded that Charlie immediately drive back to Las Vegas to return the bag. Charlie explained that Hurricane, UT was nearly a 3 hour drive from Las Vegas and although his Hybrid Prius sipped gas at about 50 mpg, he was exhausted and in fact the drive would be unsafe this time of night. Was a fresh shirt more important than life and limb? “Yes,” came the reply. “Drink some coffee and get your butt to Vegas.”
Jeannie then reminded Charlie that a shuttle left St. George (a mere hour’s drive from Hurricane) at 5:00 a.m. So they caught a few zees and at 4:00 the next morning drove in the dark to St. George and discovered the shuttle driver to be most accommodating, especially after Charlie offered a little grease to the palm. Once the suitcase was aboard and en route Charlie phoned Mr. Nasty to advise him. The snarly response was something to the effect that, “It damn well better get here on time,” and “You’re gonna pay my cab fare to and from the airport.” Bag delivered. Mr. Nasty off to his breakfast meeting.
Mr. Nasty sounds like the kind of guy who would off his parents and plead for mercy because he’s an orphan. Charlie, on the other hand, has much more patience and caring for his fellow man than most. Call me Mr. Lucky – living across the street from the world’s best neighbors and having met the Prince of Hurricane, UT.
A little blogging music Maestro… Duane Eddy’s, “40 Miles of Bad Road.”
Dr. Forgot
Friday, February 22, 2008
Traveling
Guatemala
Did you miss me? We just returned from a trip to Guatemala and did not have time to write while gone. The country is beautiful. It has had a peaceful and stable democracy for the past couple of decades and recently elected a new president. As an American in the political season we sometimes get caught up in our own affairs and do not realize the wealth of other cultures. This is ironic since we are the melting pot of the world.
Habla usted? One reason that we often don’t outward is that we are such a large country. Many of our states are larger than most countries. Another is our wealth. If California were a country, and some believe it should be (just kidding), it would be one of the world’s wealthiest. Another reason is that we can travel coast to coast and border to border for thousands of miles and everybody speaks the same language. In fact, Europeans often tell this joke: “A person who speaks many languages is multi-lingual. A person who speaks three languages is tri-lingual. A person who speaks two languages is bi-lingual, and a person who speaks one language is American.”
Surprises and excitement: I was surprised by the beautiful college campuses in Guatemala. San Carlos University is public and has some 40,000 students and a gaggle of areas of study. Francisco Marroquin University is perhaps the most lavish with stunning architecture in a gorgeous tropical surrounding. The university of the twenty-first century in Guatemala is Galileo University. It is headed by Dr. Eduardo Suger, a brilliant visionary who was a presidential candidate in the recent election. Galileo University is aptly named for the Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer and philosopher who led the scientific revolution in sixteenth century. Today’s students at Galileo emulate their namesake with studies and technology to rival that of any U.S. University.
A religious experience: Guatemala has much to offer and a rich history. Indigenous Mayans performed dentistry and brain surgery in today’s Guatemala when Europeans were fighting with spears. Ruins of the ancient cities are visible in many parts of the country. To get to those places requires a car or bus ride that is guaranteed to bring religion to the hearts of any American who thinks the LA freeways or the I-95 corridor is a traffic experience.
We visited several locations including Chichicastenango, a historic mountain village about three hours from Guatemala City. It is famous for the market that draws many different indigenous Indian groups who sell to locals and tourists. The village is breathtaking as is the trip to get there. Mountains roads, many of which are being improved to four lane highways but are still often under construction, mixed with bus and truck drivers who are out of the best chase scene in any James Bond movie make the trip one that will cause any atheist a reason to find religion.
Back to puns, politics, and satire next week: We will likely need the weekend to recover from our travels but fear not. Our tongue-in-cheek election coverage and Las Vegas updates will return next week. In the meantime we will pause to reflect over the Guatemalan experience where we met some of the most intellectual and hospitable people and saw some of the most beautiful countryside in the world.
A little blogging music maestro… Rick Nelson’s “Travlin’ Man.”
Dr. Forgot.
Did you miss me? We just returned from a trip to Guatemala and did not have time to write while gone. The country is beautiful. It has had a peaceful and stable democracy for the past couple of decades and recently elected a new president. As an American in the political season we sometimes get caught up in our own affairs and do not realize the wealth of other cultures. This is ironic since we are the melting pot of the world.
Habla usted? One reason that we often don’t outward is that we are such a large country. Many of our states are larger than most countries. Another is our wealth. If California were a country, and some believe it should be (just kidding), it would be one of the world’s wealthiest. Another reason is that we can travel coast to coast and border to border for thousands of miles and everybody speaks the same language. In fact, Europeans often tell this joke: “A person who speaks many languages is multi-lingual. A person who speaks three languages is tri-lingual. A person who speaks two languages is bi-lingual, and a person who speaks one language is American.”
Surprises and excitement: I was surprised by the beautiful college campuses in Guatemala. San Carlos University is public and has some 40,000 students and a gaggle of areas of study. Francisco Marroquin University is perhaps the most lavish with stunning architecture in a gorgeous tropical surrounding. The university of the twenty-first century in Guatemala is Galileo University. It is headed by Dr. Eduardo Suger, a brilliant visionary who was a presidential candidate in the recent election. Galileo University is aptly named for the Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer and philosopher who led the scientific revolution in sixteenth century. Today’s students at Galileo emulate their namesake with studies and technology to rival that of any U.S. University.
A religious experience: Guatemala has much to offer and a rich history. Indigenous Mayans performed dentistry and brain surgery in today’s Guatemala when Europeans were fighting with spears. Ruins of the ancient cities are visible in many parts of the country. To get to those places requires a car or bus ride that is guaranteed to bring religion to the hearts of any American who thinks the LA freeways or the I-95 corridor is a traffic experience.
We visited several locations including Chichicastenango, a historic mountain village about three hours from Guatemala City. It is famous for the market that draws many different indigenous Indian groups who sell to locals and tourists. The village is breathtaking as is the trip to get there. Mountains roads, many of which are being improved to four lane highways but are still often under construction, mixed with bus and truck drivers who are out of the best chase scene in any James Bond movie make the trip one that will cause any atheist a reason to find religion.
Back to puns, politics, and satire next week: We will likely need the weekend to recover from our travels but fear not. Our tongue-in-cheek election coverage and Las Vegas updates will return next week. In the meantime we will pause to reflect over the Guatemalan experience where we met some of the most intellectual and hospitable people and saw some of the most beautiful countryside in the world.
A little blogging music maestro… Rick Nelson’s “Travlin’ Man.”
Dr. Forgot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
