Check-Writing: It's a Lost Art Form. AS. IT. SHOULD. BE.

I know you've all seen those commercials for Visa where everyone is dancing around, swiping their debit cards like mad and then some bozo comes along and disrupts the flow by writing a check. Irritating little commerical, eh? But it's even more irritating when it happens in real life. And for whatever reason, it seems to be happening to me a lot lately. I mentioned this pet peeve to Sue, a new blogging acquaintance, the other day. It drives me insane to have to sit and wait for someone to write out a flippin' check. The world has moved beyond checks, people. Get with the program! I mean I try, I really do, not to be so snarky when the check writer is an elderly person. I know that a lot of them don't trust those new-fangled check cards. But for pity's sake, at least they could reach into that ever-so-organized purse and pull that trusty checkbook out at some point prior to the cashier telling them their total. And they could probably even write the check out and then enter it into their register, after they've handed it to the cashier to process. And they might even could fold that receipt into a neat little strip sometime before half of my order is rung up. I have actually had almost my complete purchase rung up while the sweet, little ol' white haired lady in front of me was still standing there organizing her purse. I know, I know, I know....I'm going to hell for being so impatient with the elderly. But I beg of you people! If you know of someone who doesn't understand the beauty of a debit card, tell them about it! Don't let them waste another moment of their lives (or mine, for that matter) on writing a check out in public! I was behind a woman the other day who almost gave me a stroke from the blood pressure spike. First of all, she looked to be about 30 maybe. And she had legs the size of Redwoods (width-wise, not height-wise!). I mean, WOW! When I made the mistake of getting in line behind her, she was standing - in front of the motorized cart she apparently had done her shopping in. Why was she standing? Because, as it turns out, she was writing a damn check, but not before she walked back and forth, looking at the endcaps, trying to find "the perfect" gift card that she wanted to purchase (thereby proving she could walk, when necessary). She finally gets the right gift card, gives it to the cashier (who, unfortunately, was singularly dense and had to be told 4 times how much money to put on the gift card) and then patiently waits until her whole, entire $180 some odd dollars worth of merchandise was all scanned and bagged. Then she breaks out her checkbook. Which she then proceeded to read as if it was the most recent number one on the New York Times Bestseller list. Maybe she was reliving the joys of all her previous purchases, who knows. Once she finally finished reliving past shopping glories and then took a moment to ascertain that her pen worked and her checks were ready for action, she starting writing out the check. (Okay, so here's a clue for you, lady! We were at Wal-Mart. You don't have to write your checks out at Wal-Mart. You hand it to the cashier and she runs it thru her machine and it writes the darn thing for you.) But this forward thinking individual was out to win a penmanship contest because she wrote that whole entire check out like she was penning the Declaration of Independence. She finally finishes, with a big flourish, ...and then turns to her register and transcribes the information off the check into the register - while still holding the check in her chubby little hand. At long last, she's done. Progress is being made. She gives the check to the cashier and I start to cheer. Of course, by now, much time has passed since this check-out odyssey began; cobwebs have set in, wrinkles have appeared on everyone's faces and her young child, a sweet-faced but sadly obese, little boy of approximately 10 years of age could no longer contain his boredom. So he hops on her motorized cart and takes off. Gleefully. The woman, brought out of her stupor by the sound of the motor (and maybe the kid's cackling laughter) promptly takes off after him. Running. As an aside to the whole check writing issue? let me ask you this...if that woman could churn those stumpy legs as fast as she did while chasing that kid down, why in the heck does she need that cart to begin with? Maybe if she spent a little less time on the cart and a little more time walking around, her legs might not be quite so stumpy! But I digress. The cashier is still standing there waiting to hand the woman her receipt and her check back, so I'm still standing there, too, waiting for my turn. I watched the woman instruct her kid to get off the cart, at which point, she got on it and drove it back to the cashier stand. Drove that damn cart the 20 feet back to pick up her receipt. Which she stood up and walked over to get, once she got to the right lane. She made the kid push her shopping cart out, while she drove her motorized cart in front of him. You know, guys, I'm a fairly big woman myself. I've got some bo-hunkus legs and an arse to match. I get winded sometimes when I've shopped too exuberantly, I even get a little tired when I've had to bend over or stretch high to get my groceries off the shelves. But I will be damned if I will ride around on one of those motorized carts when the only thing that ails me is my ginormous appetite. I mean honestly! If you are so big that you can't function like a normal person, do something about it! There are alternatives. I've chosen one of those alternatives myself (I'll go into that on another day, perhaps). Being fat isn't a curse of nature or even just your "lot" in life. It's a choice. A choice of eating that Godiva chocolate or eating that nice, cool salad. I knows I luvs me some Godiva, yumm-o, yessir, I do! And I can chose to eat it (which I frequently do) or I can chose not to. I can chose to sit on my arse reading a book or watching TV (which again, I frequently do) or I can chose to get up and take a walk. I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't made so many of the easy choices (chocolate and tv), my body wouldn't look like a 1st grader's art sculpting project (lumpy and hard to identify!). But there I go, digressing again. I was ranting about check writers, not overweight people who ride on carts because they're convinced they're handicapped, right? So where was I?....oh to heck with it. I'm so ticked off right now thinking of that stupid woman and her cart (I won't EVEN get into what foods she was buying - suffice it to say, it's obvious why her legs are like tree trunks and her arse practically qualifies for it's own zip code). And yes, I know. If I wasn't going to hell for being snarky about the elderly, I've probably sealed my fate with my attitude about the chunky. If I were skinny - heck, if I were even normal sized - I wouldn't dare open my mouth. But seeing as how I'm an veteran plus sized woman, I feel like I can say what I feel. I know how I got this big (and it wasn't from jumping rope or swimming laps, I can tell you that much). And I know that riding all over Wal-Mart instead of walking isn't helping that 30 something year old woman with her weight issues. Just like me standing behind her as she writes a stupid, archaic, time-consuming check isn't good for my blood-pressure!
Okay. I'm done. Rain the criticism down upon my head with your comments. Go ahead, I can take it. Well I mean I can take a little criticism. Don't get crazy with it. No need for harshness and no need to get ugly. I'm just venting here. I'm sure I'll be overcome with shame soon enough. Maybe. It could happen, you know. Yeah. All right. I doubt it, too.


P.S. Don't forget to enter my One Year Blog-iversary giveaway! Leave a comment on the previous post about the giveaway to be entered.

Book Reports and Things that Make Me Go "Hmmmmmmmm"....

I've been a bad blogger this year. I've found myself full of bad attitude and unsociable tendencies. Well, that and a wicked kind of flu/cold and a nasty case of back spasms have kept me from blogging daily and answering e-mails. In short, I have been bitchy. Rea-ea-eallly bitchy. The downside to that, in addition to the bad blogging habits, is that I am not winning friends or influencing people in my normal, charming (ha,ha,ha,ha,ha) way. The upside? I've gotten to do a lot of reading because, basically, no one else wants anything to do with me so I've turned to books for entertainment and companionship. And I gotta tell 'ya...the beauty of books doesn't just lie within the adventure of the stories they contain. A large part of the beauty is that books, quite simply, don't talk back. Unlike husbands and children who are comfortable in the belief that they are faster than I and the knowledge that I have no memory retention to aide me in plotting their punishment for any mouthy transgressions. But let's not delve into my family dynamics at this point, okay?
Anywho...here's my oh so humble opinion about 3 of the books I read the past week:

Does anybody watch the T.V. show Bones? I do. I usually love it, although it seems like about every 6th show, the writers forget what they're doing and write something so incredibly stupid that my brain leaks multiple I.Q. points just for having been exposed to the sheer lameness of the story. But, as I said, I usually love it. I started watching it because I had read a number of Kathy Reichs' books and enjoyed most of them. That and I've long been a fan of the leading man, David Boreanaz. Yeah. I'm shallow like that. Sue me. Anyway, while the last couple of Kathy's books haven't exactly floated my boat, I decided to buy this book (Bones to Ashes) because the storyline seemed interesting to me. This book didn't get rave reviews from the readers at Mystery Guild, but I actually enjoyed it. I found it to be very engaging and a fine read. Maybe my literary needs are just too simple compared to others, but I would recommend this one to anyone who asked (and even to all of you who haven't).

I also read this book, Crescent City Kill, by Julie Smith. This is a slightly older book, having been first published in the '90's. I thought this one was also pretty good, except for the ending. I won't get into all the details of how and why, but I will say this (which will pretty much ruin the ending regardless so skip over if you just can't bear to know): Sooner or later, I think it's just good sense to have the bad guy get caught and punished. You can't keep letting him escape or, eventually, your reading audience will start to think evil always triumphs and, personally, I think that scenario sucks. So arrest or kill the guy already, okay Julie?
Now this book, Carved in Bone, was FANtastic! My BFF Susan had pointed it out to me when she was visiting last month. I bought it then and finally got around to reading it and I have to tell you, I can't wait to read another one. The author, Jefferson Bass, is actually a team of 2 individuals and man - what a fabulous team they are! Susan said she thought they got a little dry in places and spoke a little too much about technical issues, but I can't even find that criticism to be true for me. I am a new fan and convert to these guys. A new book, called The Devil's Bones, comes out February 5th and I'll be buying it for sure. They also have a book called Flesh and Bone that I'm on the lookout for. If I can't find it locally, I'll have to order it online. I highly recommend this book if you like a good plot, good characters and a good old fashioned mystery involving a dead body. And who doesn't like that, eh?
Okay, book reports are over for now. I have no idea why I even think anyone would be interested in my opinions of them, but heck...at least I'm blogging again. That's got to be worth something. Right? R-I-G-H-T??? Say "yes" so I can rest easy in the knowledge that you care. Or even in the belief of the knowledge that you care. Thank you. Moving on....
Not only have I spent much time reading, I've also taken the opportunity to ponder several issues in life. Things that make me go "hmmmmmmm". Such as...just how many cars do they have over in the Middle East and how cheap are these things to get? I mean really. These people are portrayed as financially poor and culturally "focused" shall we say, on their own belief system and way of life (or death, as the case may be). I know that Bin Laden and others like him have wealth. I also know that he's not exactly passing out debit cards to his followers for them to use down at Abdullah's Used Car Lot. And if 90% of the populations of these countries are poor and going hungry, who in the hell is buying all these cars that are being used by suicide bombers? You know, I've been poor. Of course, according to the media, my life of "poor" pales in comparison to that suffered by the "every day man" in the Middle East. Nevertheless, when I was poor, getting a car was difficult. Randey and I bought "beater" cars, mainly. You know the kind...4 bald tires, no air, no heat, and a radio that was hanging on by one thin wire. Sure, these beaters only cost around $500 but they provided much needed transportation and weren't disposed of lightly. But these guys over there...they're blowing up Beemers and Mercedes! What the heck? Sheesh! How poor are you when you treat freakin' cars like they're disposable? And where do they find the idiots to drive their disposable cars anyway? I mean how does that recruiting speech go? "Sign up here to blow your body and your family's only means of transportation to work and/or escape from the hell hole that has become your neighborhood to smithereens and, in return, we promise you virgins. Lots of virgins!". You know, not to sound crass or hedonistic or even flip...but these people sure 'nuff put one ginorous premium on virginity, don't they? Just to throw this out there... back in my long-lost virgin days, had I thought for one instant that my reward for purity would be a place in the harem of one of these dumbasses, I would have been hawkin' my body down on the local street corner just to guarantee exclusion from that particular club. Go ahead. Call me a slut. Better than the alternative. I would consider that a step up from their offer.
Another thing that baffles me and has for years...how do you throw away a trash can? I'm serious. You have a trash can you don't want anymore so you set it out to the curb. The garbage men come by, see it's empty and leave it. I mean, it's a trash can. How do you signify that it's actually the trash. You could write "trash" on the side of it, but what good would that do? It'd just make you look OCD and compelled to label even your trash receptacles. I guess you could put the trash can in a bag. But what if you don't have a big enough bag? What then? Do you cut your trash can up into little bitty pieces? Do you take it down to Goodwill as if it were a donation? Do you throw it over your neighbor's fence and pretend the wind blew it there and you have no knowledge of it's true ownership? So many questions. No clear solution. Makes me go "hmmmmmmm".....
Here's another question for the masses...if they can make a hair color to turn your hair red, orange, black, brown, blond, purple, green and /or blue, why the heck can't they make a hair color to turn your hair gray? I've recently decided to let my hair go gray. Glorious gray. How's that working out, you ask? Well I'll tell you. I look like I tumped a bag of all-purpose flour on top of my head. Nice and white/gray on top, Ms. Clairol red on bottom. Can you buy a bottle of gray hair color that will make it all blend? No. You. May. Not. Your options? Shave your head and start over or suffer until the colored hair grows out. Nice, huh? Come on all you Cosmetic Industry Gurus! If Michael Jackson can make his skin white, why can't you do that for my hair? Hmmmmmmm????
Finally, can anybody out there please explain to me exactly why our society venerates actors and athletes? Honestly! We base our hair cuts, our clothing choices, our political opinions, our estimation of a successful life on people who PRETEND or PLAY GAMES for a living! How smart is that? If you want to be considered "important" these days, you'd either better learn to lie and fake your way thru every emotion imaginable or you'd better learn how to play a game better than anybody else. This conundrum doesn't just make me go "hummmmmm", it makes me laugh, cry, shake my fist in frustration and just generally wonder if the fall of civilization as we know it is at hand because we've put the jesters in charge of the court, so to speak. Pretenders and players rule our world. So what does that say about us?
Yeah, okay, I'm done now. Ranting seems to be my only talent these days, doesn't it? Ah well. One should stick with what one is good at, right? lol