"I Think The Fat Lady Has Sung!"

This being the last day in November, it's official: the 2007 hurricane season ends this date at midnight. We've had it easy again this season, so a collective sigh of relief is in order.

This marks the second season in a row when major storm predictions didn't measure up with initial expectations. No one is complaining. But do these two seasons of reprieve cut any slack with the insurance companies? Hardly. The original prognostication released by Colorado State University's, Dr. William Gray, anticipated 17 named storms, 9 of which would develop into hurricanes, and of that nine, five would be classified as "major." In actuality, the season produced 10 tropical storms, two of which were subtropical, and six blossomed into hurricane strength. As Mother Nature would have it, the worst of the hurricanes steered well away from our continental boarders. Nevertheless, the insurance carriers who issue home owners policies considered this season to be yet another banner year in justifying why they should cancel dozens of existing policies and raise the premiums significantly on those policies still in effect. It appears that reality has very little to do with actuarial calculations: the perception of a potentially devastating hurricane season holds more validity than the reality that it did not.

There is a heated debate on-going among weather prognosticators as to whether or not many of the tropical waves should be elevated to tropical storm status, so minimally organized are each, lacking in wind speed and lower barometric pressures. It is being suggested that the threshold for measuring tropical storms needs to be revised in order to be more precise in elevating marginal depressions to tropical storm status. The insurance industry is lobbying strenuously that such reclassification criteria be shelved so as to not minimize their reasoning that minimums are equal to maximums. The more named storms the more reason the insurance companies have to cry potential loss and raise policy rates. It's all just a game and it is played for money...the consumers money. It is played to the benefit of the insurance companies profits and to appease their stock holders.

When we purchased our home 23 years ago our home owner's insurance coverage yearly was a little over $600. We have been "dropped" twice and are now insured by the State of Florida, playing an annual premium of over $3,000. Not once in that 23 years have I ever submitted a claim on my policy. But because I choose to live in a state prone to hurricane landfalls, I am considered a high risk even though our home is miles away from the coastline. Guilt by association.

I am most certainly glad that the 2007 hurricane season has come to a close. For a while now we may breath easier. That is until January rolls around and we receive the renewal notice for our home owner's policy. I don't know which is more discouraging...a category 5 hurricane bearing down on our coastline or a letter from our insurance carrier. I despise and fear both.

"Hot Air Blows Through St. Petersburg..."

Last evening ten Republican wannabe Commanders-In-Chief took center stage at the Mahaffey auditorium in my hometown, St. Petersburg, Florida. Like the fellow who went to a basketball game and watched instead a hockey game break out, those who had hoped to witness a spirited debate attended a cat fight instead. The end result after two hours of back and forth bickering wasn't so much who won, but who came away less personally and politically scarred.

The real losers in this continuous debacle was once again the American people. It is no wonder that the average American voter is so thoroughly apathetic and disgusted with such pointless spectacles, as they serve no viable substantive interest other than to afford additional fodder for the mass media to report and the political pundits to dissect ad nauseam. Those who otherwise relish such in-close combat are the self-serving entourage of each candidate and the fanatic adherents to narrowly defined agendas. Any attempt to address the myriad of maladies that face our nation with comprehensive policy positions could not be found among these candidates, so busy were each trying to convince the audience that they had performed effectively and admirably previously in their own select spheres of influence. One-up-manship was the rule of the evening, both in trying to categorize themselves as competent and their opposition quite to the contrary.

In my opinion, it was a sad evening in St. Petersburg and an equally sad evening in America. Our nation cries out for leadership that understands and embraces the day-to-day struggles our work-a-day men and women face as they try to stretch their weekly paychecks to keep body, soul and family solvent while our bloated, over-reaching, and inefficient government on all levels reach deeper and deeper into our pockets to underwrite their out-of-control entitlement programs and ill-conceived pork barrel projects. Our representative form of government has been eroded by special interest collectives and political action committees that place personal gain over the benefit of the greater good. We the people are languishing in a leadership vacuum that is being filled not by incompetents, but by old guard politicians that seek power, influence and a more secure place at the trough of the America's tax-supported largess.

When asked, "What would Jesus do?" former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee correctly quipped, "Jesus would have the common sense not to run for political office." Would the majority of the current crop of presidential candidates, on both sides of the political spectrum, follow this sage observation, the future of our country might look considerably brighter than it did last evening in St. Petersburg.

"What's Up With Brooklyn?"

I recently added a new counter to my blog. Let's me keep track of who is stumbling upon my literary efforts by design or happenstance. I usually check the offered statistics once or twice a day just to get a feel for the amount of traffic that may have recently come my way. I think my ego may be involved.

I am particularly enamored with the geo-location feature of the counter, allowing me to visually see who has accessed my sight world-wide. Slowly but surely I am witnessing "hits" from all around the globe, most, admittedly, stopping just long enough to determine they need to go elsewhere. Understood...different strokes for different folks. However, I do seem to have a few locations, particularly in the U.S., that have repeatedly visited my blog, most notably around the Atlanta area. I'm pretty sure that's my newest blogging acquaintance Coffeypot, as he is kind enough to read and comment frequently.

I have also noticed, with a great deal of interest, that I am also getting a huge amount of hits from someone or somebodies in Brooklyn, N.Y., the number now pushing close to fifty. My curiosity has been peaked. A person doesn't just repeatedly visit a particular WEB site by accident unless they've left their computer off the hook, so to speak. So, naturally I would like to know who this person is or persons are who find my blog so alluring, if alluring is the correct descriptive. Bottom line...whether you wish to come forward and say "hello" or remain anonymous, either way I say "Thank You." My ego enjoys the daily boost.

"Lessons Well Worth Learning..."

Defining the difference between a dog and a cat... "A dog thinks it is a member of the family. A cat thinks the family is the hired help!" I've got nothing against cats. We have two. The older is very affectionate, liking nothing better than to be rubbed vigorously 24/7. So needy for affection is she that neither I nor Judi can close the bathroom door for some cordial privacy that "Sweetpea" isn't butting her head on the outside of the door demanding to be admitted. "Wait your turn!," I tell her, but to no avail. The younger, Callie, on the other hand, could care less if anyone gives her a sideways look. She is contented to wile away the hours sitting on the dinning room window sill watching the world go by from sun up to sun down. Only after Judi climbs into bed to call it a night will she cuddle next to her for a little personal attention. I'm not sure if Callie dislikes me or indeed thinks I'm just the hired help. I nevertheless get the distinct impression that she regards me as a non-person. I think she may have learned that behavior from my daughter...after I've told her "No" in regards to something she really wants to do, go or buy. Megan, however, refuses to sit on the widow sill.

Like I said, I like cats, but I really like dogs. Our last dog, Cubby, passed away a little over two years ago. I still miss him. I wanted another dog. I was outvoted...one to zero. Cats came into our lives because Judi decided that another dog was going to be too time consuming. Cats, on the other hand, she assured me, "pretty much take care of themselves." I consented...as long as their taking care of themselves didn't involve me. I figured that was a fair compromise. So far so good.

I like dogs because if you really allow yourself to observe their individual personalities, they can teach you so many valuable life lessons. A friend sent me the following, a dissertation on lessons dogs can teach we humans. I concur wholeheartedly.

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up an opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

When it is in your best interest, practice obedience.

Let others know when they have invaded your territory.

Take naps & stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play a little every day.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will suffice.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shade tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

No matter how often you may be scolded. don't buy into the guilt thing and pout,

but run back and make friends.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.

Be forever loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you most want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

I can't add to that list of living life well, nor should I. It is only for me to emulate as a human what a dog does so naturally....and to believe that if there are animals in heaven that I wouldn't be surprised to see a faithful dog lying in an honored spot beneath the throne of God. As for cats, I hope there are plenty of window sills.

"Another Candidate For My Avenging Iron Skillet..."

There are some people in this world that are just a royal pain in one's posterior! I had the distinct misfortune to bump into one of these insufferable fools last evening when I traveled to Tampa to pick up wife Judi and daughter Megan at the airport arriving home from their short three day visit to Cincinnati.

As anyone knows, who is well acquainted with the arduous task of flying commercially, boarding a flight at any major airport constitutes being subjected to a series of hurdles that are at best time consuming and at worse borderline invasions of privacy. Still, given the ever-looming fact that there are certifiable crazies in this world who would like nothing less than to kill each and everyone of we Americans if given half a chance, a little extra time to endure a series of security checks is not unreasonable. Most such measures are performed by security personnel in an expeditious and courteous manner. I appreciate both and, to reciprocate, I am happy to cooperate fully. It is when neither criteria are met that I become more than just a little bent out of shape. This was the case last evening.

Tampa International Airport has a rule that states that when one is dropping off or picking up a passenger from the main terminal, the driver of the vehicle must remain with the vehicle at all times and may remain minimally parked at the curb only as long as it is required to physically drop off or pick up one's passengers. Normally there is a little latitude and discretion exercised by the airport security police who oversee the vehicular traffic that utilize these two areas. As stated previously, I was at TIA to pick up my family, whom I had just called on my cell phone to confirm that when I pulled up the the curb they would be exiting the terminal posthaste. I pulled over to the curb, disembarked from the vehicle, opened up the hatch of Judi's SUV, and looked inside the terminal windows to see daughter Megan retrieving her luggage from the conveyor belt. I estimated that she and Judi would be exiting the building in perhaps 30 to 45 seconds.

I had just stepped up on the curb when I was immediately confronted by an individual perhaps in his mid to late twenties, looming a good five foot six inches in height, dressed all in black, his uniform hat pulled so tightly down over his ears I thought his ears would scream out for mercy at any second, and was armed with the obligatory club of a flashlight, radio, and what appeared to be a taser stun gun. This John Wayne wannabe wasted no time in invading my personal space.

"What do you think you're doing?" were the first words our of his mouth.

By the incredulous look on his face he could tell by the look on my face that I was totally taken aback by this ridiculous question. To me, it was obvious. Before I could muster up a reply he advised me that I had to move my "vehicle immediately!"

"Sir," I finally found some words to reply, I just this second drove up and my family is just inside retrieving their luggage. They'll be here in just a few more seconds."

"Are they here now? So far he was batting a thousand on asking stupid questions that had obvious answers.

"I can see them through the window. They're pulling off their luggage now from the conveyor. I'll be out of your way in 30 seconds."

"Move this car now and drive around!!

"You're kidding me!!" I was quickly transforming from being mildly irritated to full fledged ticked off.

"Move your vehicle now, sir!! I don't like people questioning my authority!!"

I'm thinking that must happen a lot, but I didn't say it. So, I lowered the hatch, opened the door to the car, fumbled with my keys, all the while watching the rear view mirror. Fortunately, Bruce Lee had moved to another individual parked in front of me and was proceeding to bless this poor sole with his special rendition of the riot act. Another glance in the mirror and I see Judi and Meg hurrying to the car. They too had witnessed my one-sided conversation with Mr. Personality. They threw open the rear hatch as I climbed out of the car again and shouted, "Hey Junior, my family is here. I'm going to load their luggage, if it isn't too much of an affront to your sense of protocol!" I think the label "Junior" ruffled his feathers. He leaves the other guy staring at the ground and begins walking briskly towards me as I am making my way to the rear of the car.

"Are you getting smart with me!?"

The following was my best line, and one that probably should have gotten me tasered. ""Sir," said I, "I don't think that is humanly possible!"

He didn't get it! Flat did not get my insult to what little intelligence he possessed. He just looked at me with a blank stare as I closed with, "Have a nice evening."

That's when I decided he had won hands down the most cherished awarding of a solid and profound "BONK" of my virtual cast iron avenging skillet to the back of his empty cranium. A more deserving individual I have yet to meet.

"From Whom All Blessing Flow"

The father of a childhood friend of mine had a favorite saying which he recited every time anyone sat down at his dinner table: "Get all you want, but eat all you get." I passed that little homily along to my daughter as she was growing up and to her many friends who often frequented our dinner table in the hopes that she and they would learn the parallel lesson of "Waste Not, Want Not." I can't speak for daughter Megan's friends, but at age 22 I am assured that she has learned that lesson well and will one day impart that tidbit of wisdom along to her own children.

I am often reminded of my friend's father's saying, particularly at this time of the year, when I stop in our neighborhood supermarket, one of dozens of such establishments scattered throughout our city, and walk the aisles consciously in amazement at the endless selection of edible consumables that line to the brim every shelf as far as the eye can gaze. As citizens of this fallible yet so great a country, we are in deed so very blessed. We are a nation of insatiable consumers and, unfortunately, too often squanderers in equal measure. We throw away more in a day than some families in desolate parts of the world will ever have an opportunity to consume in a life time. We have become so accustomed to such renewable bounty that we give little thought or care to just how much we casually discard as unsatisfactory to maintaining our inflated sense of entitlement. It's not that we are deliberately callous in embracing such a caviler attitude, it's just that we are absentmindedly accustomed to being spoiled by the many blessings of our birthright.

Every child has no doubt heard the stern admonishment from a parent when the child stubbornly refuses to eat a particular food item that was placed on their plate: "You need to eat the rest of your peas, young man. There are children in China who would kill to have such good food as your are wasting." The wise crack reply, wisely withheld in abeyance, "Well, name just one and we'll wrap up these little suckers right now and ship them on over!" The fact of the matter remains, whether the peas eventually get eaten or left on the plate, there are so many far less fortunate souls in this world that will be going hungry yet another day as we sit before our Thanksgiving banquet on Thursday. This obvious observation is not intended to be a downer for that day, but an appeal to each of us to be mindfully thankful for all that we receive as a sustenance blessing on that day and all of the days that follow which are provided through the unmerited graciousness of our God in Heaven. Whether by spoken prayer or the reverant bowing of one's head, look to your heart and be thankful for family, loved ones and friends, and remember also the men and women that serve each of us in our armed forces. Their families won't have them at their family banquet this year. Pray that they will be welcomed home soon to celebrate next year's Thanksgiving. What a blessing that will be.

http://www.sgtstrader.org/msg/2006tdm1.html

Happy Thanksgiving.

"Want To Get Away?"

Tis the season to be traveling. Judi and daughter Megan leave Tuesday morning to fly to Cincinnati to spend Thanksgiving with her son and our two granddaughters. Not me. The cats and I are staying right here in St. Pete. I'm saving what few vacation days I have left in case our University of South Florida "Bulls" land a "close by" bowl game over the Christmas holidays. Besides, it's cold in Cincinnati and the only sudden blast of frigid air I want to feel is when I open the refrigerator door.

Personally I don't envy anyone who is flying this time of year. It's a gauntlet of fits and starts in the best of times, but add in half the nation trying to get from here to there and that adds up to a scenario for gigantic frustrations of incalculable proportions. I recognize that the airlines do their very best to minimize air travel hassle...some do a better job than other carriers. I particularly like Southwest. They are certainly no frills, but occasionally mix in a little levity and nonsense. Some Southwest flight attendant crews are more creative and free-flowing in the jocularity than others. Arriving at the conclusion of one flight I was on the flight attendant announced, "Okay, we're here. Get off!" When crammed into a tin cylinder for hours on end, a little humor goes a long way...and I do appreciate creative humor.

As an example, click on the following WEB link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iufj8hiytSQ for a very funny Norwegian Airlines commercial. It's not one you are ever going to see on American television. Reminds me of some of the Southwest Airlines TV ads that have the final tag line, "Wanna Get Away?" Believe me, if the guy in this commercial could "get away" he wouldn't hesitate to do so.

If you are flying this Thanksgiving, you've got infinitely more patients than do I. The cats and I wish you quickly through check-in, air port security, and boarding. Everything else is a piece of cake...unless you are not particularly fond of waiting on the tarmac while the other 193 flights ahead of your plane wait to take off. Your realtives will keep the turkey warm until you get there, I'm sure.