I don't get it. How can a house appreciate in value just because it gets old? I am thinking about our old Cedar Street house and how it has gone form $9,000 to $275,000 in value. For Pete's Sake, it is over a hundred years old. Has the wood increased in value? Has the old staircase suddenly donned gold and become worth a king's ransom? I don't get it.
OK, let's examine the facts. Evidently, some things increase in value as they age, while others are labeled as old junk and tossed on the scrap pile and sent to the old things place in the sky. Wine increase in value as it ages. So, with that concept, my old bottle of 1975 Boone's Farm Apple Wine should be worth a fortune now. Right? How about my old bottle of Strawberry Hills? Must be worth thousands now.
So, with this formula in mind, I must also be worth a fortune now. If my once black hair had value at the age of 18, my white 50 plus year old hair must be worth millions. And, how about the collapsed veins in my foot and ankle? I mean, they must be a collector's dream. Hm, wonder how much I could sell them for? Not to mention my ----. Wonder what I could get for it! Maybe I should advertise on Craig's List-One used----" Only used three times a week by an old lady from Pasadena."
OK, you get the picture. Houses go up in value as they reach old age, but humans, hm, they seem to lose their market value.. For Pete's Sake.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Economics For Dummies by A Dummy
OK, here we go again, trying to use some common sense in this mess. So far, the "recovery" seems to be really working. The 3-4 million new jobs sure must have been true, after all, there are thousands of new unemployment claims being filed every day. Washington State has a new record for unemployment, and Idaho is on the rise. These poor wretches just must be too lazy to go out and get one of those 4 million jobs out there. What losers!
Yesterday it was reported that many of the states who received stimulus money are not spending it, but putting it away for possible projects that will not even provide jobs for three years. Hm, something fishy about that.
The economy is bad because we are not buying goods and services. Even a major Spokane hospital is laying of people because"not enough people are using the hospital" For Pete's sake. The solution is simple. The Feds should send a good plague stimulus around, sickening millions of folks. That should take care of the problem.
You see , it is all so simple. Give the people the money used to bail out banks, insurance companies, automobile companies, and the states. We would use the banks for our deposits, buy new cars, get insurance, pay off our bills, take vacations, and get sick from all of this and have to use the hospitals. Everyone would be a winner, and the economy would be flourishing.
Economics for dummies, for Pete's sake.
Yesterday it was reported that many of the states who received stimulus money are not spending it, but putting it away for possible projects that will not even provide jobs for three years. Hm, something fishy about that.
The economy is bad because we are not buying goods and services. Even a major Spokane hospital is laying of people because"not enough people are using the hospital" For Pete's sake. The solution is simple. The Feds should send a good plague stimulus around, sickening millions of folks. That should take care of the problem.
You see , it is all so simple. Give the people the money used to bail out banks, insurance companies, automobile companies, and the states. We would use the banks for our deposits, buy new cars, get insurance, pay off our bills, take vacations, and get sick from all of this and have to use the hospitals. Everyone would be a winner, and the economy would be flourishing.
Economics for dummies, for Pete's sake.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Politics and Hospice
You would think that one thing where politics and legal wrangling wold not be found is in hospice.
After making the painful decision that it was time to call in hospice for my mother's care in the nursing home, we found out that it is not as simple as we thought.Already stressed by making that call and all of the implications of it, we were looking forward to a simple transition for the hospice team coming in and taking over.
After very careful research and talking to people in the know, we chose XYZ hospice for the job. Well, we soon found out that XYZ did not have a contract with the nursing home where Mom is. We were assured though, that it was just a matter of getting a contract with XYZ, and checking out their references. A simple formality, at least that is what we thought. But nothing is ever as simple as it seems. We were told by the nursing home that ABC hospice was already in place at the home, so why did we not want to use them. Well, the reason we did not want ABC was because we were told by health care professionals in CDA that ABC was not as caring nor as professional as XYZ. The family stuck by our guns are once again said that we wanted XYZ.
The nursing home admin said, no problem, they would get a contract with them. We called XYZ and they said the nursing home was making unreasonable contract demands, and even said to XYZ, why does the family just not go with ABC. XYZ told the nursing home it was because the family wanted them, and they wanted to honor the family's wishes. XYZ redid the contract on our behalf, count them-four times to try and please the nursing home. It appears that the the attorney's for the nursing home kept finding objections to the XYZ contract, and it needed to be redone again. OK, fine, but the clock is ticking rapidly, and my mother is declining at an alarming pace.
So, with regret, we will ask ABC to come in on Monday. We give up , and once again politics win.
I guess a dying person's care is not as important as politics and contracts.
After making the painful decision that it was time to call in hospice for my mother's care in the nursing home, we found out that it is not as simple as we thought.Already stressed by making that call and all of the implications of it, we were looking forward to a simple transition for the hospice team coming in and taking over.
After very careful research and talking to people in the know, we chose XYZ hospice for the job. Well, we soon found out that XYZ did not have a contract with the nursing home where Mom is. We were assured though, that it was just a matter of getting a contract with XYZ, and checking out their references. A simple formality, at least that is what we thought. But nothing is ever as simple as it seems. We were told by the nursing home that ABC hospice was already in place at the home, so why did we not want to use them. Well, the reason we did not want ABC was because we were told by health care professionals in CDA that ABC was not as caring nor as professional as XYZ. The family stuck by our guns are once again said that we wanted XYZ.
The nursing home admin said, no problem, they would get a contract with them. We called XYZ and they said the nursing home was making unreasonable contract demands, and even said to XYZ, why does the family just not go with ABC. XYZ told the nursing home it was because the family wanted them, and they wanted to honor the family's wishes. XYZ redid the contract on our behalf, count them-four times to try and please the nursing home. It appears that the the attorney's for the nursing home kept finding objections to the XYZ contract, and it needed to be redone again. OK, fine, but the clock is ticking rapidly, and my mother is declining at an alarming pace.
So, with regret, we will ask ABC to come in on Monday. We give up , and once again politics win.
I guess a dying person's care is not as important as politics and contracts.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Losing Contact
It is always bad to lose contact, and it is a shame to do so. I am not, however, talking about losing contact with another person, but, well, let me go back in time a bit. It was my sophomore year at old Wallace High School, and the setting was in Mr. Land's geometry class. Let me tell you a little bit about Mr. Land.
Hm, how can I describe him? Well, picture the Pillsbury Dough Boy,and you can get the basic shape. After all, this was a geometry class! We were taught to be aware of curves and angles. OK, you get the basic idea. Now picture the Dough Boy with a leathery face and slightly blood shot eyes from maybe having a drink or two or three everyday, and picture the Dough Boy wearing cowboy boots, and well, there you go. Meet Mr. Land.
I am not going to say that his class was boring, but it was a little hard to pay attention.The class was the first class after lunch, and the mood was , shall we say, a little relaxed. The classroom was on the first floor, and the large windows let the the sun fall directly on the students in the Spring and Fall, and in the cold winter, the old hissing radiator put out a heat that would rock a colic baby to sleep. It was so boring that the guy who sat behind me, Craig P, felt it necessary to sometimes entertain himself. One day in Feb. the sun was steaming through the windows, and Craig decided to do an experiment. He held his geometry book up in the direct streaming sun light, and sure enough, his experiment worked. The book started smoking. Mr. Land looked up and and said,"Craig, what are you doing?", and Craig answered just as calmly as you please," I am setting my book on fire, Mr. Land."
OK, so now you get the picture of the dynamics of Mr. Land's classroom. On this one particular winter day, and near the end of class time,the guy who sat next to me must have been getting a little bit bored, too. This guy wore the old hard contact lenses, which as we know were subject to breaking. Well, this particular student had an old broken contact lens with him, and deciding to ad a little excitement to the day, he placed the old contact lens on the floor, and the proceeded to get down on the floor and feigned looking for the lens. Mr. Land asked him what he was doing, and the student told him that he had lost one of his contacts. Mr. Land, all five foot five inches and three pounds started looking, too. But, the contact was no where to be found. As Mr. Land neared the floor where the broken contact had been placed, the student all of a sudden "found" it. He held it up, and faking perfect consternation said," you stepped on my contact and broke it Mr. Land." Poor old Mr. Land was horrified, After all, teachers made very little money in those days, and contacts were much more expensive then they are now. After letting Mr. Land sweat and fret for about five minutes, those of us who were close enough to know the gag broke in to rolling on the floor type laughter. The student then told Mr. Land the whole story.
I am not going to release the name of that mischievous student. and I have always wondered if he turned out at all, or if he remained a juvenile delinquent.You never know how someone is going to turn out. Go figure!
Hm, how can I describe him? Well, picture the Pillsbury Dough Boy,and you can get the basic shape. After all, this was a geometry class! We were taught to be aware of curves and angles. OK, you get the basic idea. Now picture the Dough Boy with a leathery face and slightly blood shot eyes from maybe having a drink or two or three everyday, and picture the Dough Boy wearing cowboy boots, and well, there you go. Meet Mr. Land.
I am not going to say that his class was boring, but it was a little hard to pay attention.The class was the first class after lunch, and the mood was , shall we say, a little relaxed. The classroom was on the first floor, and the large windows let the the sun fall directly on the students in the Spring and Fall, and in the cold winter, the old hissing radiator put out a heat that would rock a colic baby to sleep. It was so boring that the guy who sat behind me, Craig P, felt it necessary to sometimes entertain himself. One day in Feb. the sun was steaming through the windows, and Craig decided to do an experiment. He held his geometry book up in the direct streaming sun light, and sure enough, his experiment worked. The book started smoking. Mr. Land looked up and and said,"Craig, what are you doing?", and Craig answered just as calmly as you please," I am setting my book on fire, Mr. Land."
OK, so now you get the picture of the dynamics of Mr. Land's classroom. On this one particular winter day, and near the end of class time,the guy who sat next to me must have been getting a little bit bored, too. This guy wore the old hard contact lenses, which as we know were subject to breaking. Well, this particular student had an old broken contact lens with him, and deciding to ad a little excitement to the day, he placed the old contact lens on the floor, and the proceeded to get down on the floor and feigned looking for the lens. Mr. Land asked him what he was doing, and the student told him that he had lost one of his contacts. Mr. Land, all five foot five inches and three pounds started looking, too. But, the contact was no where to be found. As Mr. Land neared the floor where the broken contact had been placed, the student all of a sudden "found" it. He held it up, and faking perfect consternation said," you stepped on my contact and broke it Mr. Land." Poor old Mr. Land was horrified, After all, teachers made very little money in those days, and contacts were much more expensive then they are now. After letting Mr. Land sweat and fret for about five minutes, those of us who were close enough to know the gag broke in to rolling on the floor type laughter. The student then told Mr. Land the whole story.
I am not going to release the name of that mischievous student. and I have always wondered if he turned out at all, or if he remained a juvenile delinquent.You never know how someone is going to turn out. Go figure!
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I had always thought that there was some type of Divine order to this chaos. I always wanted to believe that everything happened for a purpo...
