Kitchen Remodeling

We live (when we aren't sleeping) in our kitchen, so I imagine if you are going to splurge, it might as well be where you keep your pots & pans.

My first kitchen re-do happened in 1972. I was fresh out of college and had no business getting a house, but my father helped me buy one. He had just hired me as a neophyte and he liked his salesmen in debt. Anyway, the house needed some TLC and my idea of remodeling was a gallon of paint and a couple of scratch & dent appliances. Done! How nice does a kitchen need to be to grill a hamburger and fry a breaded tenderloin?

Then, I got married. I was able to keep the genie in the bottle by buying new homes over the next 36 years which had nice kitchens, but never "the kitchen". Then, I weakened. I let the genie out to help us buy some new counter tops. The levies were breached! It became a total tear out.

After kicking the tires at a couple of kitchen "specialists" (a.k.a. "We know you have a wife and we are going to take ALL of your money") we ended up at Lowes where the corporate saying is "Let's build something together". The only thing I was building was some marital tension. Let's just say I lost the argument two months earlier when I mumbled "counter tops".

So, for the past month we have been living in transition. Julie has been packing her lunch pail heading off to the salt mine while I have been babysitting the contractors while "We are building something together". First, I need to say that everyone involved has been very nice and knowledgeable with their assigned tasks. However, this must be the industry were they employ all of the adults with attention deficit disorder. They show up late, leave frequently, forget necessary items, and generally make a German-heritage obsessive compulsive person like myself-NUTS!

We are now in our 6th week. Our kitchen is functional, but not yet finished. Most of what is left is cosmetic stuff that should be done by the end of the week. But now, the Mrs. is changing the room colors. That is equivalent to BP trying to find a new way to stop "The Leak". I'm betting BP will finish first.

Guardian Angels

My dear Mom who passed away due to cancer in 1987 believed in guardian angels. She always felt that our family had been protected by a power greater than our own common sense. Most likely she was right. Our family has been blessed with good fortune for years. It's not that we haven't had our share of challenges, but when we needed divine intervention things have worked out.

Anyway, when Mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer she was needless to say greatly disappointed that she would not be on this Earth to see her grandchildren grow up. So, in her last months she promised her six children that she would be the Meek clan's guardian angel. Most people would think that was a sweet gesture and then would forget about it.

However, Mom frequently sends reminders she is watching over us.

For example, two years ago at Brian and Brooke's wedding rehearsal dinner on the beach at Daufuskie Island, a double rainbow rose up above the ocean as I was toasting their marriage. And last week, in the Santa Cruz Mountains on a perfectly calm day, as Jo and Joel stepped forward to the spot where they would become a couple forever, a breeze blew directly through them raising the veil on Jo's dress. I looked around us and nothing else was moving. The redwoods were still, the lake was calm, and my eyes were wet. Julie, Nancy, Donna and Joe also interpreted this veil-lifting breeze as Mom's presence. It was just Mom's way of telling us she was there.

The rest of the day was equally remarkable. but I would refer you to Brooke's blog at www.thethreeolives.com. She captured the moments beautifully.

Needing, but not wanting to, Julie and I took off Monday morning on separate flights (to save a couple hundred bucks) and I had the pleasure of being on the same flight as Julio and Marilyn Fernandez. I've known Marilyn since carhops were on roller skates, so we had quite a chat. Nevertheless, my flight was routine and arrived on time in Indy. I contacted Julie and confirmed she was on time in Chicago an hour behind me. When my phone rang at her scheduled arrival time I assumed she was on the runway in Indy, but that was not the case. Her plane had returned to Chicago to make an emergency landing. The plane had lost the computer that controlled the landing gear. The crew went into full emergency mode just like the "Miracle on the Hudson" only this one was on concrete. Julie thought she was going to die. But the back-up computer worked, the landing gear came down and she eventually returned home safely on a different plane.

Mom was there.

10 Things That Make Old Men Grumpy

1) When they realize that they are older than AskIndyTed
2) Women (except Mom)
3) Taxes (see #4)
4) Obama
5) Pencil-necked bosses whose only skill is producing spreadsheets
6) Rush hour traffic
7) Liberals (see #4)
8) Going to work when you don't care anymore
9) When your favorite college football team loses the BCS Championship
10)Infrequent blog posts by AskIndyTed

Blog Block

Some have asked why I haven't posted recently. Well, it hasn't been for lack of material. With taxes (property, inheritance, income,sales, VAT, etc.), healthcare reform, financial reform, government deficits (local, state, federal, and any sovereign nation without an oil well), and dog-owners not picking up their best friend's #2, I could have posted daily. But, who really wants to hear about all of that negative noise.

Nevertheless, all of these happenings have affected my mood to write. I needed inspiration, a lightening bolt, a sign from the heavens, stronger coffee...Something! I was neither depressed nor inspired. I was mired in winter, another miserable season of basketball from IU and the Indiana Tax Pirates, uh Pacers. The Colts didn't show up for the Super Bowl, but Julie's bronchitis did-twice. Personally, my life was fine, but things around me were kind of out of kilter, broken, busted, out-of-time, cattywhompus, in a fog, screwed up, and otherwise sliding sideways.

Well, it's time to fill my BVD's up with ice and snap out of it, throw some cold water in my face, and a whiff of smelling salts! What's my problem? Nothin'! I was blessed with a new healthy beautiful grandson (#3), Harrison, on December 28th. Joel is marrying a wonderful woman next week. And I have the excitement of meeting Kyle's girlfriend at the wedding (no small thing-the CIA should have such security).

So, stay tuned. I'll be baaahck!

Fixing the Federal Deficit

Our politicians know the solution to our federal budget deficits, but none of them would dare be the one to say it. There are numerous ways to eliminate the deficit or at least diminish it to a level that would not mortgage the future of the financial health of the U.S.A., not to mention crippling the rest of the world's nations who are holding our enormous debt. Correcting just two well-guarded "entitlements" could do the trick.

First, raise the retirement age for Social Security to at least 70 years of age. This would affect me directly since I will be 62 in a couple of years, so would qualify for a couple of grand per month from Uncle Sam, a check me and the Mrs. would be happy to collect after sending in over a half of a million dollars in payroll deductions across both our careers. However, when Social Security was conceived, folks did not live 20 to 30 years past retirement. Most of them never saw the first check.

Second, and I will preface my statement by saying this is even more controversial, is to let people die when they are in fact dying. Did you know that over half of our collective U.S. healthcare bill is paying for the last 60 days of life with death as the outcome? That's right. Doesn't make much sense does it?

There you have it. No tax increase. No new spending. And, you would have an environment that would allow businesses to start hiring the unemployed and start growing our economy once again.

Budget Cuts

If the federal government could not print money, they would cut their ridiculous spending. On the other hand, state and local entities are finally feeling the need to prune their overgrown landscapes resulting from their own out-of-control expenditures.

Governor Daniels has sent down the order for higher education to cut $300 million. Franklin Township Schools need to trim $8 million. Center Grove Schools are threatening to eliminate music and art from their curriculum much like the sad sack IPS did last year. I have news for you. The party is over.

We can no longer borrow our way to a better way of living. The bill has come due and everyone wants a bailout. Sorry, you need to be a Wall Street banker with "connections" to get another chance at fiscal responsibility. We, finally, have to live within our means. It won't be so bad. I remember my mother telling me that the Great Depression wasn't really all that bad. She told me..."Everyone was in the same boat. No one had anything".

I still remember her telling me that you only feel left out when someone else has something you think you need. In her case, everyone was without, but they had each other. And, her family, in spite of an occasional squabble, continues to meet every year since about 1920 to talk about never needing anything except each other.

State of the Special Interests of America

I am sitting down in front of the tube (actually a flat screen) getting ready to see how long I can tolerate listening to another President tell me how much better, safer, cleaner, and prosperous we are than a year ago. Well, I'm not swallowing the hook anymore. After just one year of irresponsible yet well meaning leadership from Obama, eight years of George W. attacking anything wearing sandals, eight years of Slick Willie chasing skirts around the globe, and Reagan fading to black while he was still in the White House, I've become a become a tad dubious of the guy sitting in the Oval Office.

Where are the Washingtons, Jeffersons, Lincolns, and Roosevelts that made the U.S.A. the great country that it is, at least for the time being? I'll tell you where they are. They are owned, controlled, and manipulated by "special interests" and the money they provide which is necessary to buy, I mean win, the election. Whoever raises the most cash wins. It's that simple.

So, if you are not personally represented by one of these "groups", find one. Otherwise, you are on your own. Me? I'm going to get my AARP card laminated tomorrow.

Circle City Ambassador

Have you ever seen a flick in downtown Indy at the cineplex atop Circle Centre (that's the way they spell it) Mall? I would guess not, since it is rare to see more than a few folks camped in front of any of the nine screens, regardless of the movie. If movie theaters across the country are struggling to fill the seats, this one is in a coma on life support.

So, why would my sweetie and I frequent a place where so few tread? The obvious reason would be the proximity from where we live which is less than a mile. We can walk if the weather is nice or drive and park for free (the theater stamps your ticket for 3 free hours) while leaving the umbrella & overcoat at home. The other is to see a man who is always there. I do not know his name, but he defines the phrase "work ethic" like no other.

His job is simple, but not easy. His task is boring, but rewarding. He needs to do little, but it requires considerable effort. He is not the boss, but you won't see the movie without his permission. He is the ticket taker. He is also severely disabled. I do not exaggerate when I tell you that all you can see of him is his face, feet, hands, and the rest of his twisted body in between, sitting in a wheelchair. He has difficulty raising his head and it requires considerable effort for him to tear the ticket stubs in half. But, he always greets you in a deep graveled voice, directs you to the correct theater, and tells you to enjoy the movie. Afterwards, on your way out, he thanks you for coming and asks for you to come back soon. You leave being appreciated, a mistake so many failing businesses have yet to learn.

If more Americans gave 100% effort like him, we would not be questioning the future. We would be looking forward to it and enjoying our abundant lives. And, sometimes, taking in a flick.

Knight is Talking, Again

Bobby Knight is coming ever so slowly out his shell and back to the State of Indiana. He was in town this week for an ESPN broadcast of a Butler game (the current favorite team in Indiana-uh, sorry Purdue). While here, he accepted an opportunity to speak at the Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame, not to be confused with the IU Hall of Fame that he recently snubbed after being inducted. Get over it Bobby. Myles unfortunately, prematurely passed to the hereafter and everyone else who tried to modify your behavior is vamanos! As he was speaking, Bobby was the charming, somewhat foul-mouthed, PG-13, rule one violator (takes oneself to seriously) that he typically portrays.

However, one sound bite by Bobby broadcasted by the local media was dead on true. The NCAA rule book has grown so verbose yet vague that compliance has become an issue of begging forgiveness rather than asking for permission. If one wanders "outside the lines", it merely takes a phone call to your attorney to negotiate your severance and next (bigger & better) contract.

Bobby took a direct swipe at John Calipari, the current Kentucky mentor, who has left his last two (three if you count the NJ Nets) in ashes. I witnessed Calipari's current stable of thoroughbreds last week against IU. It was boys playing men. Matter of fact, if I was Larry Bird, I would have traded the UK team straight up for the Pacers. Calipari can coach, but he has taken a team from missing the NIT to an NCAA contender in 10 games! I think Calipari has taken some shortcuts.

Regardless of whether you love Bobby or hate him. He is right-again.