Dear Readers:
I feel that you are somewhat discombobulated over my blogging schedule. Not to worry. Beginning next week I expect to blog every Wednesday (rain date,Thursday). Thanks to my dear grandchildren I am "beginning to see the light" as to how these new-fangled machines work. Here's hoping that this will be O.K. from here on
More,later.
Henry
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
CREDIT CARD CHAOS
Can you believe the STAGGERING billions of dollars, euros, francs, yuans and other currencies that represent the worldwide credit card debt? Can you picture what a billion of anything looks like?
Maybe we can better understand what this represents if we picture the average college graduate card debt between $15,000 and $20,000 in addition to other obligations. Whew!
In my younger years the credit card had not been invented so that meant that people paid cash or they didn't buy.
Simple enough.
In my home there were two exceptions to cash payments. One was called the lay-away-plan which allowed you to select an item(s), put down a small deposit and then make periodic payments until that happy day when PAID IN FULL was stamped on your agreement. My mother used this plan to buy
Christmas gifts.
The second exception to cash was the “grocer's ledger book” which allowed you to buy food items and settle the bill on payday. The grocer's book was a credit risk for the grocer but I know that none of them suffered heavy losses, if any.
Why am I telling you this? Because, dear readers, many of you are up to your collective necks in card debt. You have a number of cards and each month you pay the minimum amount on the largest debt, thus adding more debt.
You can do better than that. Tomorrow morning get in front of your full-length mirror and pledge to get out of debt as quickly as possible. You can do it. You had the fortitude to get through school and into the work world, and you can use that same courage to be debt free. Every time you get down to a zero balance on a card CUT THAT CARD INTO SMALL PIECES AND TOSS IT. Get down to one card and keep it there.
It is a matter of trust. The grocer trusted his customers and they didn't fail him. You can trust yourself to get free from this collar of debt.
More, later
P.S. I know I sound “preachy” today but it needed to be said.
Maybe we can better understand what this represents if we picture the average college graduate card debt between $15,000 and $20,000 in addition to other obligations. Whew!
In my younger years the credit card had not been invented so that meant that people paid cash or they didn't buy.
Simple enough.
In my home there were two exceptions to cash payments. One was called the lay-away-plan which allowed you to select an item(s), put down a small deposit and then make periodic payments until that happy day when PAID IN FULL was stamped on your agreement. My mother used this plan to buy
Christmas gifts.
The second exception to cash was the “grocer's ledger book” which allowed you to buy food items and settle the bill on payday. The grocer's book was a credit risk for the grocer but I know that none of them suffered heavy losses, if any.
Why am I telling you this? Because, dear readers, many of you are up to your collective necks in card debt. You have a number of cards and each month you pay the minimum amount on the largest debt, thus adding more debt.
You can do better than that. Tomorrow morning get in front of your full-length mirror and pledge to get out of debt as quickly as possible. You can do it. You had the fortitude to get through school and into the work world, and you can use that same courage to be debt free. Every time you get down to a zero balance on a card CUT THAT CARD INTO SMALL PIECES AND TOSS IT. Get down to one card and keep it there.
It is a matter of trust. The grocer trusted his customers and they didn't fail him. You can trust yourself to get free from this collar of debt.
More, later
P.S. I know I sound “preachy” today but it needed to be said.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Grape Jelly
GRAPE JELLY
When dear wife and I have a meal at a restaurant chain I always the look into the jar of pre-packaged jellies. If I see that the contents are of the standard mix (grape and strawberry), I whisper to her that “this is a low-budget outfit.” However, if the mix contains marmalade, blackberry, boysenberry or the like I opine that “this is a class outfit.”
I know that many of you readers have a fondness for grape jelly because you were raised on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I prefer my peanut butter straight up, thank you. Grape jelly is not for me and thereby hangs a tale.
My distaste has its roots in a great Depression story as follows: When my mother's Uncle Hugh's wife Jennie died, in the early 30s Uncle Hugh insisted that my mother have the one hundred jars of grape jelly that Aunt Jennie had “put up” during World War One years. My mother reluctantly agreed, not that she liked grape jelly but because she loved her uncle. In addition, the jellies would help her food budget.
After my father lugged those heavy jars home we teenagers (sister Jane and myself) were charged with opening the jars for inspection while seated outside on our backyard brick walk. The first jar opened contained more mold than jelly, as did jar number two, number three and so on.”Whoa”, said mother, “we can't eat that stuff so just spoon all of it down the nearest drainpipe. Then she added with a half smile,”Of course we won't tell uncle about this, will we?” Without a thought of the ecological consequences hose it down we did.
So, dear reader, if you are into “home canning” please rotate your inventory so that the freshly preserved food stays that way. If you have an “auntie” that loves to “put up” food don't wait for her demise to enjoy it but try some NOW,especially if it is grape jelly.
More, later.
When dear wife and I have a meal at a restaurant chain I always the look into the jar of pre-packaged jellies. If I see that the contents are of the standard mix (grape and strawberry), I whisper to her that “this is a low-budget outfit.” However, if the mix contains marmalade, blackberry, boysenberry or the like I opine that “this is a class outfit.”
I know that many of you readers have a fondness for grape jelly because you were raised on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I prefer my peanut butter straight up, thank you. Grape jelly is not for me and thereby hangs a tale.
My distaste has its roots in a great Depression story as follows: When my mother's Uncle Hugh's wife Jennie died, in the early 30s Uncle Hugh insisted that my mother have the one hundred jars of grape jelly that Aunt Jennie had “put up” during World War One years. My mother reluctantly agreed, not that she liked grape jelly but because she loved her uncle. In addition, the jellies would help her food budget.
After my father lugged those heavy jars home we teenagers (sister Jane and myself) were charged with opening the jars for inspection while seated outside on our backyard brick walk. The first jar opened contained more mold than jelly, as did jar number two, number three and so on.”Whoa”, said mother, “we can't eat that stuff so just spoon all of it down the nearest drainpipe. Then she added with a half smile,”Of course we won't tell uncle about this, will we?” Without a thought of the ecological consequences hose it down we did.
So, dear reader, if you are into “home canning” please rotate your inventory so that the freshly preserved food stays that way. If you have an “auntie” that loves to “put up” food don't wait for her demise to enjoy it but try some NOW,especially if it is grape jelly.
More, later.
HIGH ON HIGHER EDUCATION-PART TWO
HIGH ON HIGHER EDUCATION – PART TWO
I began this quest for higher education with some trepidation. Would the students accept someone more than three times their age in the classroom? Would I be able to keep up such a busy schedule? Could I write acceptable papers? Could I pass the exams? All of these questions and more kept buzzing in my head as I took the public bus for my first day of classes.
I had worried needlessly. The kids and I took to each other like ducks to water. In the lecture halls, the discussion groups, and the football games we got along well. At the first football game Dear Wife and I sat in the student section. A student challenged our presence there until I whipped out my student I.D. card. “Cool,” he said.
As the fall semester began, I received invitations to new student get-acquainted activities, one of which was a pumpkin-carving party. I also had many notices from Realtors advertising available apartments, all of which I politely refused, desiring to spend my free time with Dear Wife.
During those wonderful years I had many opportunities to encourage older folk to “ take the plunge.” I'm sending that same message to you today, dear reader. Go for it! The rewards you will receive are priceless.
More later.
Monday, May 11, 2009
HIGH ON HIGHER EDUCATION – PART ONE
This blog is a story, a deviation from my usual blog theme.
On May 16th, 1998, I was graduated from a world-class university, the culmination of six years of study, part-time and full-time, at a community college and said university.
Part one tells about some of the humorous events that took place during those years.
When I called my high school to request transcripts, the voice on the phone said, “1937 ? Those records are in the basement. It will take some time to get them.” In three weeks the community college had my records.
Dear Wife accompanied me to meet the Dean of Admissions at the university. “Just the two of you ?” he said, “Where's the student?” “I'm the student,” I said. His response was, “Wow.
The university's Public Relations Department selected the 1997/1998 theme Resources for a Lifetime, to emphasize the university's openness to students of all ages. I was chosen to represent the “older” student. As I was to play out that role on the televised shows (shown at all sporting events), the departmental contact wanted to know my age. When I told her, she screamed, “My god, I've hit the jackpot!”
As the fall semester began, I received invitations to get-acquainted activities for new students, one of which was a pumpkin-carving-party. I also had many notices from Realtors, advertising available apartments, all of which I politely refused, desiring to spend my free time with Dear Wife.
Next week's blog will be about the meaningful role of the older student on campus.
More, la
On May 16th, 1998, I was graduated from a world-class university, the culmination of six years of study, part-time and full-time, at a community college and said university.
Part one tells about some of the humorous events that took place during those years.
When I called my high school to request transcripts, the voice on the phone said, “1937 ? Those records are in the basement. It will take some time to get them.” In three weeks the community college had my records.
Dear Wife accompanied me to meet the Dean of Admissions at the university. “Just the two of you ?” he said, “Where's the student?” “I'm the student,” I said. His response was, “Wow.
The university's Public Relations Department selected the 1997/1998 theme Resources for a Lifetime, to emphasize the university's openness to students of all ages. I was chosen to represent the “older” student. As I was to play out that role on the televised shows (shown at all sporting events), the departmental contact wanted to know my age. When I told her, she screamed, “My god, I've hit the jackpot!”
As the fall semester began, I received invitations to get-acquainted activities for new students, one of which was a pumpkin-carving-party. I also had many notices from Realtors, advertising available apartments, all of which I politely refused, desiring to spend my free time with Dear Wife.
Next week's blog will be about the meaningful role of the older student on campus.
More, la
Thursday, May 7, 2009
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT
The current hassle over the sub-prime mortgage fiasco jogs my memory when I read about people suffering the heartbreak of house foreclosure. My parents went through that scenario in the 1920s.
Although my dad had to leave school after the sixth grade to help support his family, he had the innate skills for building things; so, he built a house!
The house had to built in his spare time so that meant evenings and weekends. My mother was his helper. She often boasted that she got her muscles from carrying the sheet rock (today's dry wall) to form the walls.
My dad finished the walls and we moved in, then tragedy struck in the form of a work layoff. My mother's part time work as a nurse couldn't bring in enough money to pay the mortgage so foreclosure took place and they became renters instead of owners in the same house.
Do you know that the house-that-Jack-built is still standing and happily occupied? Not to long ago dear wife and I drove past the place and children were playing on the front porch. I would love to have gone inside to see how it looked but felt a bit awkward about that so we drove away.
Not long after this loss my dad landed a job as a city fireman and remained on the job for 30 years.
That job stability enabled them to once more move from renter to owner, assuring that they would never again suffer the heartbreak of foreclosure.
This stability taught my parents of the need to be thankful, and to show it in so many ways. I have never know anyone who could match my mother's generosity to those less fortunate than us, and, believe me, in those days suffering surrounded us. Many times I was sen “down the street” with a pot of Irish stew to a neighbor who had lost a job, or where sickness had sent in. Often my dad would use his car to tote a neighbor, or family member, who needed help. There was no debate about whether the need was necessary or not. It was understood that people had needs and we had the means to take care of such. It was a privilege to be a caregiver.
Thankfulness: expressing gratitude (Webster). Our world needs more of this, wouldn't you say?
More, later.
Although my dad had to leave school after the sixth grade to help support his family, he had the innate skills for building things; so, he built a house!
The house had to built in his spare time so that meant evenings and weekends. My mother was his helper. She often boasted that she got her muscles from carrying the sheet rock (today's dry wall) to form the walls.
My dad finished the walls and we moved in, then tragedy struck in the form of a work layoff. My mother's part time work as a nurse couldn't bring in enough money to pay the mortgage so foreclosure took place and they became renters instead of owners in the same house.
Do you know that the house-that-Jack-built is still standing and happily occupied? Not to long ago dear wife and I drove past the place and children were playing on the front porch. I would love to have gone inside to see how it looked but felt a bit awkward about that so we drove away.
Not long after this loss my dad landed a job as a city fireman and remained on the job for 30 years.
That job stability enabled them to once more move from renter to owner, assuring that they would never again suffer the heartbreak of foreclosure.
This stability taught my parents of the need to be thankful, and to show it in so many ways. I have never know anyone who could match my mother's generosity to those less fortunate than us, and, believe me, in those days suffering surrounded us. Many times I was sen “down the street” with a pot of Irish stew to a neighbor who had lost a job, or where sickness had sent in. Often my dad would use his car to tote a neighbor, or family member, who needed help. There was no debate about whether the need was necessary or not. It was understood that people had needs and we had the means to take care of such. It was a privilege to be a caregiver.
Thankfulness: expressing gratitude (Webster). Our world needs more of this, wouldn't you say?
More, later.
THAT IRISH MOTHER OF MINE
She was small in stature but BIG in spirit, BIG in loyalty,BIG in generosity,BIG in love-she was my Irish mother.
My mother and her sisters emigrated from Ireland early in the 20th century using a relay system. Ellen came first; her savings brought Jerrie; their savings brought my mother, Jane, and together they paid Sarah's passage to America.
After a time spent in various jobs (my mother was a telephone operator who was hired with some misgivings because of her Irish brogue), all of them went into nurses training as their life's work. I am so proud of my two granddaughters who have followed in their footsteps. Mother worked as a nurse until the age of 70. Tough! Caring! Committed! Outspoken!, that was my mother Jane.
Lots of Irish wit passed between the sisters. I can still see them gathering around a “wee cup of tea” and talking a blue streak. A favorite time was “reading the tea cup leaves” in the bottom of the cups (this was before the days of the tea bag). With one sister a youngish widow, and another married late in life, someone could always see the figure of a man in their futures.
Can you describe to others the story of your mother's life? If you cannot, why don' you spend this Mother's Day catching up on her family history ? If you don't do it NOW there may come a time when it will not be available to you.
Thanks.
More, later.
My mother and her sisters emigrated from Ireland early in the 20th century using a relay system. Ellen came first; her savings brought Jerrie; their savings brought my mother, Jane, and together they paid Sarah's passage to America.
After a time spent in various jobs (my mother was a telephone operator who was hired with some misgivings because of her Irish brogue), all of them went into nurses training as their life's work. I am so proud of my two granddaughters who have followed in their footsteps. Mother worked as a nurse until the age of 70. Tough! Caring! Committed! Outspoken!, that was my mother Jane.
Lots of Irish wit passed between the sisters. I can still see them gathering around a “wee cup of tea” and talking a blue streak. A favorite time was “reading the tea cup leaves” in the bottom of the cups (this was before the days of the tea bag). With one sister a youngish widow, and another married late in life, someone could always see the figure of a man in their futures.
Can you describe to others the story of your mother's life? If you cannot, why don' you spend this Mother's Day catching up on her family history ? If you don't do it NOW there may come a time when it will not be available to you.
Thanks.
More, later.
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