We may lose and we may win, though we will never be here again

I’m sure we’ve all gotten one or two of these recently. Like it matters any more. Everybody is out of the pool except for a couple of candidates and it’s not even Super Tuesday. One of the things that has always pissed me off was the first Presidential election I was able to vote in. It was November, 1980 and I was planning on voting when I got home from work. As I was driving to the poll, they announced that Jimmy Carter had seceded to Reagan. The California polls were still open, it was my first Presidential election and I didn’t matter. So I voted for John Anderson. He got 7% of the popular vote. I could have cared less about the guy, it was my way of saying, yeah I do matter dammit. So six days out from when I get to vote, they’re dropping like flies. Edwards and Guiliani dropped out yesterday, Fred Thompson a couple of days ago, (although I’m not sure he counts, he didn’t seem that invested in the process) Kucinich last week, it’s basically a two horse race on the Democrat side and just a matter of time until Huckabee and Paul go away on the Republican side. Now we’re back to picking the ones that are least offensive. I’m sad that these others have dropped out. I’m aggravated at the media for not giving everyone equal air time at these debates. And I was really hoping for a food fight. I think I’m voting for Mike Gravel, just because I’m pissed off.

I’m really sick and tired of the media trying to tell us what to do and how to feel. I think it reached critical mass for me after 9/11. At the time I worked for Morgan Stanley. Their headquarters was located in the World Trade Center and I had worked there during the month of May, 2001. Here they are telling their audience in the banners “Time to Mourn”, then “Time to Heal”. Really? Five days later you’re going to tell a wife and mother in New Jersey that it’s time to get over the loss of her husband in the worst terrorist attack in the history of this country? Really? She has seen her husband’s office building burn and implode ad nauseum on a 24 hour loop for the last three days, but now it’s time to heal? That did it for me with the media. You can report it, but don’t tell me how to feel. And now they’re driving the Presidential Election and that pisses me off.

Now for some bon mots and cheap shots.

From the comments drawer, this little gem showed up and might be missed by some of our gentle readers, sooooo, as a public service, because that’s how we roll, reprinted here …

1. Patty Hauptman is in for a huge surprise. A top San Francisco law firm has taken, on a contingency basis !! the case of a senior manager of Alliance and after review of contracts , etc is very confident of their ability pursue not only Mercury, their insurance carriers and the Hauptmans personally. Buckle your seat belts this is going to get interestingComment by jensen — January 31, 2008 @ 11:35 am

I’m getting me some buttered popcorn for that! And from the Wine Dog’s inbox:

…wanted to let you know that I SO value your level of experience! I’ve
been involved in the same conversation about outsourcing for Escrow
Officers, of which I feel the same way! Great, good for me, I’ll be bustin’
tail…no one in the shoot to be trained and just where will it all go like
when for instance…I RETIRE?! Leave…croak? Sheesh!!! And seriously, this
was the Presidents response, “what do you care you’d be retired we’ll figure
something out by then” Just where and how do the title companies convince
themselves the consumer would be better served? Incredible!*

Aw shucks!

And about that little devil dog of mine…

I’ve got a woodpile in the back yard. In that woodpile, on account of the fact that the weather has been so crappy, a family of rodents has taken up residence. Rita wants desperately to, I don’t know, probably devour the rodents. So when put out she zeros in on and climbs all around the wood pile.


And forgets to do what she is out there to do in the first place. Tonight I will have to unstack the woodpile and dismantle the mouse house just so I can get my dog to crap in the back yard. It’s really going to suck to be me tonight. She’s also going to the vet for her first trip with me. She won’t let me pick her up to weigh her. The first time I got away with it and she weighed 49 pounds. The second time, she tore my shirt off of me and never got weighed. The third time, I did it very gently and she was fine until she was airborne. Then she thrashed like a alligator in the everglades trying to escape a alligator wrestler. I set her down as quickly and gently as I could, but my arms and stomach, which were uncovered because I didn’t want her to tear another shirt off of me, were thrashed. And never got weighed. So I give up. I’m paying to see the vet so I can have her weighed on their scales and then take her back to check her weight weekly with a clear conscience.

And finally

File this under “Things are rough all over”.

You’re in the mud in the maze of her imagination

The PBE mac is finally up and running again. Whew! It whistled at me and died a week ago Saturday. Thanks to the brilliant women of SFWOW I was able to work my way through the trouble shooting and get it fixed. It was a long process because it could have been anything. I did safe start ups, tried to start if from another disk, tried another monitor, turned to the east and bowed to Mecca, nothing. So I ordered a new graphics card (the probably culprit) and some extra RAM because hey, I was on the phone with the guy, and a new CD/DVD. I installed only the graphics card, hooked it up and pffft. Nothing. Nada. So I installed the CD/DVD thinking that perhaps I needed to load the software, even though it’s a mac. Still nothing. So I went last night and got the Mothership’s mac, thinking I would daisychain them and be able to see my hard drive from her machine with my firewire. (Who knew I was that smart?) So before I did the daisy chain, I hook her machine up to my monitor and pffft. Nothing. Nada. So I took her machine back to her house and at the last minute I decided to take my machine over there and test it. A week ago, it didn’t work. Last night it fired right up. So the monitor was blown too. So I head down to COMPUSA in SF for their last dying ditch effort to sell the inventory and got a beautiful 22″ wide screen for two bills. Plugged it in and here I am! Pleased as punch.

About BARF (Bay Area Rapid FUBAR)

You have one job, to move people. That’s what you get paid for. You don’t have to manufacture a product or do any sales. You move people. One thing. That’s it. You’re a government entity so you have no competition. Just move people. Knowing that you have only one job to do, why is it so hard to get it right. I know this will come as a shock to some readers, but it’s raining. It’s been raining since before there was a BARF. When they built it they knew that sometimes it was going to rain. Around 80 days a year it rains here. And sometimes it’s hot here. It’s over 90 degrees probably 40 days a year here. The rest of the time it’s generally pretty mild. BARF however, needs to run 365 days a year, not 245 days. So it needs to run on time in the rain. It’s not like there are deer running across the tracks. The tracks are subterranean or elevated. There’s no cross traffic. It’s a straight shot. Why is it so friggin’ hard to get the trains to run on time?

Back to the people moving concept. While watching Jillian Michaels get her ass kicked on the escalator last night was interesting, I get my ass kicked daily on BARF’s escalators, when and if they are running. It’s about moving people. If the escalators aren’t working, people aren’t being moved. If they aren’t being moved, they are trudging up the stairs and efficiency is out the window. You have one job, move people. It shouldn’t be as hard as you make it.

And furthermore

Some basic courtesies that I just can’t believe that people can’t pay attention to:

  • Walk left, stand right.
  • If you’re sick and snotty, stay off of the BARF. Really. Y’all are why I was sick six times since August. If you can’t control the hacking and snotting, stay the Hell off of public transportation. It’s just rude.
  • Speaking of rude, use your inside voice please. If the Wine Dog and The Sommelier can use their indoor voices after ZAP, y’all can first thing in the morning.
  • Be considerate. I offer my seat ladies older than me and gentlemen who are much older, i.e. elderly. Every single man should offer my nearly 50 year old butt a seat. I won’t take it, but be a gentleman fergodsakes and offer. Sheesh.
  • And pick up after yourself.
  • Thank you.

All quiet on the western front

For all of you that have been asking about our brethren at Financial, it’s been awfully quiet this week. If I didn’t have a good rant or two in me, I’d have to show you the girls.

Monkey pack him rizla pon the sweet dep line

OK, I think I’ve pieced enough of ZAP back together to make a little sense.  We will skip the first stop, second stop nonsense, because after Edmeades, I don’t know where the hell we went.  So in order of how it popped into my brain:

C.G. di Arie we went here because some older lady, who I thought was probably a grape grower, well manicured in overalls, boots and a cowboy hat, saw the sign and acted like they were the holy grail.  So we joined in.  They make three Zins.  This was not our first stop or we would have used better logic in selecting the stop.  They had three Zins out:

  • 2004 Di Arie Zinfandel Amador County
  • 2004 Zinfandandel“Southern Exposure”
  • 2004 Zinfandel – Shenandoah Valley
  • We skipped the Amador County and went right to Southern Exposure.  It was a very well made, nicely structured Zin.  Lots of spice on the finish, which is how I like my Zins.  The Shenandoah Valley was even better.   This one is pretty fruit forward with cherries and some jamminess, also finishing spicey.  Note to self, follow old ladies in overalls around, they know what time it is.

    Benessere.  I’m a big fan of their Zin.  I’ve written about it here before.  Actually, I opened a bottle a couple of months ago that blew me away.  There is no fall off with this vintage.  I liked the BK Collins Old Vine best.  Like the bottle I had at home, it’s perfect with spicey food.  And they have a great wine dog.

    Moss Creek.  I’ve written about George’s wine before.  Actually, his 1998 blew me away and I tracked him down so I could get more.  They were there pouring a 2003, which while not that young for normal standards, was very young for George standards.  While we were there he opened the 1998, for which I will be eternally greatful.  His wines age so beautifully it’s hard to put words together to describe it.  He’s a great guy, I’m very happy to have met him and I think we left before I got too stupid.  He’s got that 1998 on his website for $39.  It’s the best deal in wine you’ll ever find. 

    JR Wines.  John Ramsey is the winemaker and he buys some of his grapes from George.  His George’s vineyard Zin is proof positive that great wine begins in the vineyard.  He also has a Big Dave’s which was good, but not like George’s.  This guy is very small, but he makes a good glass of juice and is worth seeking out.

    Edmeades was our first stop.  I’ve had more than my share of their wines, so it was a pleasure to meet Van Williamson.  They had probably five different Zins out there and a barrel tasting as well.  The one I liked best was the 2005 Perli.  Their wines tend to be really jammy and the Perli has a lot more complexity.  I want to say it’s a smarter wine, although it didn’t make me any smarter.  Quite the opposite.

    Dashe Cellars, really nice people and really great wine.  The one that jumped out at me was the 2005 Old Vines, Todd Brothers.  That thing was just full of spice spice spice.  I like spicey Zins so I thought this one was the shiznet.  They are a husband and wife winemaking team and it works.  Really works.

    Graziano Family of Wines, Greg Graziano, what a great guy.  All of his wines were very nice, but my favorite was the 2004 Blozzi.  He gets some grapes from his cousin Eddie and does I think it’s called the Eddie Vineyard, but it didn’t really do much, not like the Blozzi.  Fruit forward with dark cherries and a very complex finish.  He does a great job.

    Carol Shelton Wines, poor Carol Shelton.  They were put in the S room and not the A-G room.  I can’t remember what the hell her wine tasted like.  I forgot to write anything down and I’m sure it’s a damned shame.  I checked out her website hoping to bring back a thought or two.  I certainly remember somebody talking about the Wild Thing.  I guess I’ll have to take a run up there and figure out what the hell happened in the H-Z room.

    In the interim, it’s raining here, I’m teaching the dogs how to hold hammers without opposable thumbs…just in case we need an ark.

    Someone told me long ago theres a calm before the storm

    I could sit here and tell you I don’t know what got up my ass this morning, but I do know. First thing this morning the Bloodless Empire’s HR department pissed on my leg and told me it was raining. It’s not raining. You’re pissing on my leg. Stop it. They moved from a traditional time off program to a PTO program. In the process they took our existing personal holidays. It wouldn’t have been such an aggravation if I hadn’t asked to take the day on two separate occasions and had been denied by Mr. “I’m a New Manager and I’ve got my nose so far up the corporate butt that I can’t tell if it’s raining or not”. I suppose I should have kept that to myself, but you know the guy, we’ve all worked for him a couple of times in our career. So twice I ask for the day, twice they say “no” twice and then at the end of the year, they take it away, because I didn’t use it.  Like the kangaroo says… We used to get six sick days plus some BS that the City of San Francisco made them do. Now, we get five sick days, but we get a personal holiday, all rolled into the PTO. Uh, we got the personal holiday before at least until you took it away from me. And six sick days. Is it raining or are you pissing on my leg?

    Anywho, this all gets me back to the fact that so many of our jobs are being done in India, while all the politicians drone on about immigration. It’s too late kids. My job is gone. As a matter of fact while 10,000 Indians work diligently on a product that’s not even sold in their country, a similar number of qualified title personnel are sitting home out of work. On one hand it can be argued that the immigrants do the jobs that we don’t want to. No, I don’t want to pick strawberries nor to clean Britney Spears’ house. On the other, if American youth don’t have a starting place for their work life, how do they spend their working years? Playing Wii? Living on the dole? You don’t get to start as CEO and many don’t have the wherewithal to begin their own enterprises, so what are they to do? I started as a “Microfilm Technician”. That meant I made copies of documents from the microfilm for the searchers and examiners. Later years, we called them “filmers” and got them from the temp agency. (OK, we also called them Jailbait Row). I made around $.50 more than minimum wage back then. Today, it would be about a dollar or so more than minimum wage. For a 17 year old kid, it was a great place to start, and I’ve made a decent career of it. So when I dropped out of college for the seventh time, there was a living to be had.  I didn’t have to sit on the couch and live out the Jerry Springer dream.  Now, I’m nearly 50 and I’m the tail end of the old school.  No one knows what I know, nor do they care.  Furthermore, the corporation doesn’t care.  The corporation has decided that it’s more beneficial to have my work done in a country that doesn’t even support the product they’re producing…at $16 a day, versus my salary.  The politicians who should be regulating graft, kickbacks and embezzlement are busy pushing down premiums on behalf of, supposedly the consumer.  Yet the one thing that is lost here is the fact that the only people who are really losing out are the consumers.  The product they are currently receiving is substandard at best.  And the people who are really winning are real estate attorneys.  And possibly a politician garnering a few extra misguided votes come election time.  The one organization that could have come to the rescue, could have pitched a royal hissy fit and made a difference, the ALTA, sat silent.  From your un and under employed bretheren in the State of California, thanks a lot, for nothing.

    Are we our own worst enemies?  It could be argued that buying Made in China hurts American jobs, and I would agree.  But conversely, am I hurting our economy when I buy a German made automobile?  What about a Japanese manufactured car?  A Korean television?  What about a Toyota, made by a Japanese company in Fremont?  Where is the line and where do we achieve balance?  And what are Americans supposed to do for a living?  Before our economy collapses under it’s own weight, how do we support the masses?  The same masses we are undereducating right now?  Does that just widen the divide between the upper class and the lower class?  Does the middle class disappear?   With this upcoming election, I keep hearing the words from a previous election.  It’s the economy stupid.

    Come in all you jesters, Enter all you fools,

    I almost feel like I’m cheating when I give away one like that.  Sonofabun already knows what song I’m talking about.  The Brother might too.  I should probably have some sort of daily contest for the titles. 

    Day 8, it’s still raining.  According the weather.com, Monday February 4, 2008 is supposed to be a nice day.  Monday.  Bastards.  On the upside, it makes it pretty easy to dig fence post holes.  I got four knocked out today.  Next weekend I have three more to knock out and then I can start on the half fence.  I also started digging one of the trenches that will become a raised garden.  I’ve even figured out how to stablize the fence.  Ah, Manuel Labor, he’s a good friend of mine.  He’s good for your soul too.  All this sitting in offices pushing bullshit paper that we do, nothing like digging a fence post hole to let you know you’re alive.  Today is the first day I haven’t worked out at all in several weeks.  I figured digging fence post holes would suffice.  Today is supposed to be an off day, but I usually cycle on my off day.  Not today, not in the rain.  So I dug four holes and a trench instead.  I can tell the difference with the Turbulance Training added in.  It’s hard, core strengthening work.  I think it’s good for me.  I’ve also added kettlebells into my regular workout.  So a day off digging holes was probably just fine.

    While I was digging holes, Beauregard and Rita were patrolling the perimeter, keeping the homestead safe from invading squirrel terrorists.  We have a health hatred of squirrels, ever since they ran poor old Beauregard into the wheelbarrow.  He thinks he’s Seal now with his scar.  There’s a great picture of it, inside the dead mac.  The mac I just dropped $300 on parts and several hours of tinkering and still won’t fire up the monitor.  I need to find a mac tech.  The machine is four years old and if I take it to apple, I will want to kill one of their counter people or Steve Jobs.

    I also installed a motion control light in the back yard.  It should have taken 15 minutes and ended up taking 90 minutes and included a trip to the hardware store.  Still, it’s properly installed and I now know what’s wrong with the one on the front of the house, so fixing that one should only take say 20 minutes, now that I know the trick.  And a trip back to the hardware store.  What I’ve noticed most in this sort of work is that I can’t see up close any more.  I never could really see, I’ve been wearing either glasses or contacts since I was 15 years old.  Just in the last year, I can’t see up close any more.  It makes plumbing, electrical work, mechanical work all an adventure.  I have to wear those half glasses at work, which some people have said makes me look like I know what I’m doing.  Go figure.  I think they should make safety reading glasses.  I’m not the only person who can’t see this crap.  I think I might be on to something.  I’m getting out my teaspoon and digging my hole to freedom behind my Rita Hayward poster.

    I have an in depth report of ZAP coming up in the next day or two.  As soon as I remember what happened.

    Tomorrow’s another day, and I’m thirsty anyway…

    Today is actually Day 7, but I’ll take a moment to write about Day 6 of the rain.  My unlandscaped back yard is like a horse stable after a rainstorm.  Basically a similar cocktail.  I was thrilled to find my fences still standing yesterday when I got home from work.  Since Seeno, (probably the richest guy in Contra Costa County) refused to split the cost or even send his guys and his at cost wood up to the property where the common fence I meant my fence is listing to and fro, I’ve decided to just sink some metal poles and run some chain link.  I’m going to put a berry patch in front of it, as it will be the furtherest point in the yard and not a place the dogs will be going.  It will be the forbidden zone.  So as much as I would like to build the ultimate spite fence, the law says I can’t. 

    Rita is fixated on the squirrel nest even though there hasn’t been a squirrel sighting since Sunday.  She’s crated away from the window during the day.  I’m thinking about moving her to a larger confined space this weekend as she learns to be better in bigger and bigger spaces.  She does great in the office with me.  She’s laying at my feet right now.

    Rita in repose

    I’d love to stay and chat, but it’s off to the gym, because my competitor is kicking some major butt (namely mine) right now.  And I need to be at the BARF station by 8:30 for ZAP.  And sorry Ma, I’d rather drink at 10am than shop for Listerine.  OK, you might get a call from a drugstore.  You should have your list ready.  Humor me.

    It may be rainin’, but there’s a rainbow above you

    I feel like Robert DeNiro in Taxi Driver.

    Thank God for the rain…which has helped wash away the garbage and trash off the sidewalks.

    Imagine the Tom Scott soundtrack in the back ground.  Day 5, the rains keep coming, it never ends… 

    Now imagine living with a young dog who has never lived in a house. Then picture an unlandscaped backyard, 200X70, and a pepper tree with a known squirrel nest, and a woodpile with a mouse nest and new carpet.  The mud never ends.  I’m God’s angry dogwasher.  I want that mud room from Extreme Home Makeover this week.  And what happens if Phil sees his shadow?  If he doesn’t it’s 6 more weeks of winter, but if he does, then what?  Does anyone know where it’s not raining and cold right now?

    Rita’s having some issues with jumping up right now.  If I told you not to jump up this morning, then you still can’t jump up this afternoon, or tonight or tomorrow morning.  And you can never ever put your paws on the kitchen counters.  And how in the Hell did you get your paw or more importantly, why did you jump up on the oven door?

    Boom Shacka Lacka Boom Boom! Get a Job

    It just won’t stop.  Coconut Telegraph, warring Tom Toms, all that’s left is a smoke signal from Folsom and the fat lady will warble.  Make copies of your order sheets and your pres folks.  Really.  And save that McDonald’s coupon for a rainy day… it is raining isn’t it?

    Ya know, I take no solace in that fact that more of my colleagues are going to be screwed by the Hauptmans.   Believe me.  I was out there in October 2006 and it sucked.  Majorly.  I called people I had known for 20 years and they would have loved to have me on, but they had nothing.    The corporate machine had no place for a 32 year vet.  It took me four and a half months to get back to work.  It sucks.  Since then, I’ve actually been called by one of my mentors who was looking for work.  That’s a world turned upside down in my book.  I would love to be wrong, but there’s just too much noise.   What I really wished was these companies had some scruples and saved for this rainy day.  Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?  Since when did Wall St. own our industry?

    Happy Anniversary

    Happy Anniversary to Ma and Pa Kettle.  Fifty-five years today.  So if you see some old people tottering around Clayton in the rain, give’m a lift home.  Thanks.

    The PBE Mac

    I’m a big MacHead.  I’ve owned two pc laptops for business, but my life is run on Macintosh.  First I had one of the original Mac clones, which was a really sweet machine, and now I’m working on a G4.  Saturday afternoon the PBE Mac made a sound sort of like a child’s whistle and went blank.  There are places to search for answers to Mac issues.  macfixit.com, the apple board, SFWOW, all good sources, SFWOW is one of the greatest resources I’ve ever stumbled upon.  So I tried to boot from another disk, no dice.  I tried to boot with no extensions, nada.  I hauled the machine over to the Ministry of Disinformation and tested it against their monitor, zilch.  So it’s not the monitor, it’s not a software conflict and the machine is booting properly.  One of the gals from SFWOW suggested that the new software update (which I had downloaded only hours earlier) was too much for my elderly video card and it went kaput.  Another couple of WOWsers suggested I call Larry at MacSales.  So hopefully upon my return home tomorrow, I will find a note from my UPS driver that I can pick up my new video card, and well, hell if you’re going to spend money, get some more memory too.  And replace the cd drive.  WOWsers rule, and MacSales rocked.  Great prices, great guys.  Should make for an interesting Friday night.  A Friday night where I should stay in because Saturday morning at 10am is ZAP!  zap_header_printable.jpg

    Yeah, the Wine Dog’s palette is back, wheeeee!

    Oh, by the way, it’s raining.

    I used to do a little but a little wouldn’t do, so the little got more and more

    Here’s a tasty morsel for those of you who are out of work.  I spoke with Steve again today.  He wrote me this:

    Looking forward to information about the title officers for Alliance and escrow and title officers for TICOR. And the contracts that you mentioned for Alliance people are interesting as well.

    I have represented employment plaintiffs for a long time and would be happy to discuss cases with these people if they want

    Steve C.

    Stephen R. Cornwell
    Cornwell & Sample
    7045 No. Fruit Ave.
    Fresno, CA 93711
    (559) 431-3142
    (559) 436-1135 (fax)

    This guy is currently handling some decent sized class action suits over misclassified exempt employees.  (Like the escrow officer suit brought against FATCO a few years ago) He has also offered to look at contracts and look into your unpaid vacation and commissions with Alliance Title Company.  I urge folks who believe they are part of these classes to give him a call.  He’s a very nice and knowledgable guy and he cares about us title folks.

    Coconut Telegraph

    It’s still all fired up.  McDonald’s certificates and candy be damned.  Just have your books and order sheets copied.  I’m thinking you’re going to need it.  There’s just too much noise.

    Training Wheels

    Little Rita is learning her lessons.  Slowly.  She hasn’t seen a squirrel in a couple of days but she still runs patrols along the tree lines.  And tries to climb a tree.  She really does look like one of those Alabama coonhounds up against a tree.  Now here’s Buddy. Uh-huh, he’s a good ol’ boy.  He can tree a coon quicker than any other hound in these parts.  On the upside, she’s learning her automatic sits quite nicely.

    Run Wine Dog Run

    I’m feeling better, finally and am working out a lot harder.  I’m down five pounds, but I have a bet with one of our gentle readers which includes dinner at the French Laundry.  I can’t lose this one, so I’m doing two a days now.  The morning is the regular work out and then evening features either Turbulance Training or a boxing jump rope workout or once the weather improves, a run or a bike.  Turbulance Training is a lot of floor work, which is an adventure with two cabin fever ridden Dobermans.  One is crawling under me and sucking on my toe and the other one is licking my face.  Jumping rope went better as they were afraid of the noise.  Currently they’re kicking each other’s ass in the dining room.

    Come on somebody, why don’t you run? Ol’ Red’s itchin’ to have a little fun

    Rita has discovered where the squirrel nest is and under that tree is where the little dear lives now.  Beauregard would like her to play with him, but no dice. 


    Well, just when I thought I was going to have to flash the crowd the big ones, here comes some great information.  I spoke with Tammy’s attorney this afternoon.  If you were/are an employee of Alliance Title Company, Financial Title Company, First American Title Insurance Company, Ticor Title Insurance and were classified as exempt, write me and I’ll hook you up.  This guy is responsive, intelligent and has our industry dialed in.  I called this afternoon and he called back a few hours later.  He is also interested in pursuing the unpaid vacation and commissions on behalf of the X-ATC crowd.  

    Someone else’s timeclock

    The tom-toms have not let up.  Something is definitely up.  I’m beginning to wonder if Patty Hauptman is keeping it open just to make the Wine Dog look bad.  That would be a cheap shot, eh?  Actually, the same problems that buried ATC are all over FTC, but for some reason they’re letting it run.  I don’t really think this quick drop in the rate is enough to generate enough business to save them.  Hmmmm.

    They’re preoccupied about mismatching their socks

    The rain is back and that’s just not good.  I’ve spent the day trying to get the PBE Mac to lumber back to life.  And listening to Rita alert that there is a squirrel in the perimeter!!  That will make your brain bleed after a couple of hours.  Any solutions for off the hook prey drive are extremely welcome at this point.

    I’ve got a bet with a friend (who might even read this) on our Body for Life progress.  Not great for me when you spend a week down sick.  She’s probably kicking my ass right now.  It’s a journey not a race, so we’ll see how we’re doing in March/April, whenever this ends.   I did some cooking today.  I’m prepared, and we all know failure to plan is a plan for failure.

    I’m sorry there aren’t any Wine of the Day posts.  The Wine Dog’s palette is still funky.  I missed the Sonoma Winter Wineland.  While this may be painful for some of you to look at, it was brutal for me.  Freemark Abbey called wanting to know where I’d been and I had to say “I’ve been sick for freaking ever and haven’t been up there”.  When the wineries start wondering where you are, it’s time to make changes for your health.  So I’m trying out some of that Acai stuff.  I didn’t get it at that site, the link is just for information.  It tastes fine and supposed to cure everything from head colds to shingles to ED.  Those sorts of claims always worry me.  So to hedge my bets, I’m off to juice some oranges a friend let me pick yesterday.  With them being right off a tree I hope I can find some health and keep my job.