Cool Too

You never know what you are going to get when you read this blog. Moved on from spiders to volcanoes. Well, I do live on one.

I thought photo was awesome too. Another current event beyond politics.

An a undersea volcano erupts off the coast of Tonga, tossing clouds of smoke, steam and ash thousands of feet (meters) into the sky above the South Pacific ocean, Wednesday, March 18, 2009. The eruption was at sea about 6 miles (10 kilometers) from the southwest coast off the main island of Tongatapu, an area where up to 36 undersea volcanoes are clustered. (AP Photo/Lothar Slabon via the New Zealand Herald)

65,000ft Tall

Look at this photo. (Blow it up) After seeing it I couldn't stop thinking how small I am. How great God is. Amazing.

On March 26, Mt. Redoubt's, eruption plume as seen from space. The plume was estimated at 65,000 ft.

Budget

After planting my flag in Hawaii this year, I contacted Dave Ramsey to have my name and contact info placed on his website as a certified counselor. I went through his course four years ago but have coached only a handful of people because I can’t seem to stay in one place for any length of time.

I told the Ramsey Gang that when I mention Dave’s name in Hawaii they ask if he is some surfer dude, or they just give me that blank look when I say life is best when it is debt-free. Uncle Sam’s bent on tripling the debt to “stimulate” economic activity isn't helping the cause, but what can you do? My sister suggested I start my own tea party on April 15 here in Kona. There is a “revolt” in Honolulu that day.

I'd rather work one on one with people to help them dig out from their burden. It's micro-level, but that what is most important. It is what we can control. What are we going to do with out of control government spending? Cough up more taxes? You can also join in the pity line. I refuse and I digress.

I’ve been hacking away at the book. Slow going, but actually making progress. However, I won’t be making any money any time soon. Since money or lack thereof is in my cross hairs, I decided to put a budget together. I know my ship is leaking, it is just a question of how big is the hole.

As a counselor, I have access to Total Money Makeover, the online budget program makes the math disappear, kind of like all my money. It was back to the basics. I took everything I am responsible for and divided by 12. Just as I suspected, a monthly deficit of $443. Over fifty-three percent of my expenses goes toward taxes and insurance. Outrageous!

Anyway, I didn’t expect the phone to ring off the hook, but the listing at Dave Ramsey has resulted in two people contacting me about counseling.

With a monthly budget deficit I have got to consider options:

1. Write that damn book and sell it. The writing I can do. The selling, not so much.
2. Get a real job. A dreadful thought.
3. Get serious about doing some financial counseling. Under consideration.
4. Not pay my taxes. Now that could be stimulating!

Battle Grounds

I still can’t get over its size. Or its fragileness. Because when I smacked the hell out of it, two of its legs went flying in the opposite direction and crumpled like the gum wrapper foil. A spider the likes I haven’t seen since that one night in the shower in Micronesia when I was surrounded by a rat, a cockroach and a spider the size of the rat. I don’t know what freaked me out the most. But after all these years protected by the safe comforts of distance and time, I’m surprised I stayed and took a shower. I must have been pretty sweaty.

This spider, a bit smaller than a hardball, was scooting around the bedroom wall, heading for the curtains. Leaping about in an unpredictable fashion I expected it might jump into my bed. I lay, wondering how the hell it got into the condo. Based on the size it had to come through the front door, the only portal big enough for it to fit through. Believe me if I saw that hairy brown thing coming in the door I would have slammed the door in its fuzzy fangs.

Twenty four hours later, I still get creeped out that it was in the house. What make matters worse is that a six inch long multi-legged “worm” – some sort of pede – invaded the bedroom the night before the spider. I almost stepped on the damn thing coming back from the bathroom ala lights off. Thank God for my light colored bamboo floors. The creepy-crawly was hard to miss.

It was on the fast track determined to be some where when I diverted its track. Thinking it would just curl up in a ball and I would then scoop it up in a magazine to toss it outside I gave it a nudge. Ha. It rocketed off toward the bathroom in overdrive. Afraid it would make its way under the washer/dryer I diverted it to the toilet. The thing was wiggling like a worm on a hook but had as much fight as a marlin. Armed with a dust pan and the bright lights of the bathroom, I ditched it into the toilet and flushed half expecting it to crawl back out of the plumbing. I dropped the seat, wiped the sweat off my brow and went back to bed.

And to think I worried about a stupid cockroach.

Battled Black Witch

The other day, after the moth returned a gecko tried to sneak up on it. I flicked a newspaper at the gecko. Usually any motion sends them for cover. This guy in pursuit of dinner stayed put, forcing me to get up and swat at it with a bit more authority. The gecko headed for the shadows. The moth took flight. I figured that was that. How many more time would it return to my lanai?

Late afternoon today it returned, carrying the scars of nature’s harshness. Its wings, once delicately dusted with fine powders that glistened in the daylight, were torn in battles with mates and predators. The bright blue “eyes” had vanished. What a tough two days it has been. Yet, it survived and returned to my lanai. How much longer can it hold off the powers greater than its very being? I'll be surprised if morning finds life.

I assume this once marvelous creature did what it was designed to do. No, not eat wool, but procreate. Thus it survived.

Random Acts

I am probably all wrong about this, but I believed insects conducted their lives in total randomness. A fly accidentally discovers a pile of dog poop not because of it patrolled its neighborhood in a methodical manner. "Something smells good over there. Let's go see what it is."

So when my moth flittered away after the gecko stumbled on his lair, I expected that was the end of our paths crossing. However, when I returned this afternoon from the pool the giant moth had returned to the same place on my lanai wall. Same place!

Made me think that I might catch that cockroach lurking around my seat cushions.

I think that geckos have territories which they patrol in grid-like patterns. Look it up!

Moths

Blow this guy up. Found him on my lanai this morning. About three inches in wing span. He stayed until a gecko decided to try his luck at nabbing a huge meal. The gecko went home without filling his belly.

My other morning visitor was a cockroach. The large land lobster hid his ugly body on my seat cushion. Nearly spilled my morning mocha when he jumped out into the open. I cussed up a storm, reminding me of my Micronesia experiences with these vermin. Except my mother didn't come running to save me. Shit, I don't even have any Raid. I'm sure the neighbors heard my commotions.

By the time I found a magazine to clobber the roach, it has scurried to safety.


Black Witch Ascalapha odorata (Linnaeus, 1758): http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org/species?l=4820

Have I The Guts?

Dear IRS:

I'm sorry to inform you that I'm not going to be able to pay the taxes owed on April 15th, but all is not lost.

I paid these taxes, accounts receivable tax, building permit tax, CDL tax, corporate income tax, dog license tax, federal income tax, unemployment tax, gas tax, hunting license tax, fishing license tax, waterfowl stamp tax, inheritance tax, inventory tax, liquor tax, luxury tax, Medicare tax, city tax, school and county property tax. Real estate tax, Social Security tax, road use tax, toll road tax, state and city sales tax, recreational vehicle tax, sales franchise tax, state unemployment tax, federal excise tax, telephone tax, telephone federal state and local surcharge tax, telephone minimum usage surcharge tax, telephone state and local tax, utility tax, vehicle tax, registration tax, capital gains tax, lease severance tax, oil and gas assessment tax, Hawaii and Tennessee property tax, Hawaii, Tennessee, New York and other state sales tax and many more I can't recall and I've run out of space and money.

When you do not receive my check April 15th, just know that it was an honest mistake. Please treat me the same as the way you've treated Congressman Charlie Rangel, Chris Dodd, Barney Frank, ex-congressman Tom Daschle and, of course, your boss, Timothy Geithner. No penalties, no interest.

PS, I'll make at least a partial payment as soon as I get my stimulus check.

Ed Barnett, Wichita Falls.

Making Deals

I envisioned a coffee table of Asian decent. Handmade, in which I inlaid five lava rocks smoothed by the ocean waves. I got the design in my head and I got the rocks a few weeks ago when Dad and I hiked down into Poloū. But while floating around the New Industrial Park (verses the Old Industrial Park), I stumbled across a place having a 50% sale. The sale seemed a perpetual state of commerce for a store only opened on weekends. The table was unmarked, so I expected it was an arbitrary price when the owner told me the teak table from Indonesia was $175.00.

After some thought and a week later I came back to purchase the table. Except now he wanted $210, half price tagged now sported on the piece. I assumed the economy was now on full recovery. I explained that last week it was $175.

“Well, I can take $195,” he said, brushing the thick dust off the table.

“You told me that you would take $175.” I wasn’t budging. He had seven such tables last week and seven tables this week. Demand seemed stagnated at none.

“Are you going to pay me with an in-town check or cash?”

Okay, we started the negotiation. I offered cash and we had a deal. I figured by the time I bought the lumber, a few more tools and the finish my investment in the construction of a coffee table would exceed $200 and a lot of swearing. Sweat, I meant sweat.

Take note of the cushion and pillow covers. I made them last winter and they fit perfectly. The added pillows makes the couch more comfortable. Now I can put my feet up on the table for real comfort. Home.

For Sale

I offer up to my fellow Americans my piece of AIG. I’ll take $46,000 for it. In return, I'll give you a nice little piece of paper, sort of a stock certificate, which claims you have my share. Actually, you don't have to be an American. A rich Saudi is fine. Honest, I own this. I have been told I, along with all my fellow Americans, own 80% of this company. Since I didn’t get my bonus from AIG, but got the shaft instead, I’m willing to relinquish my share of the company.

How did I came up with the figure $46,000? It was actually a meticulous calculation. I’d explain it, but it would be as equally confusing and astonishing to grasp as AIG paying out $165 million in bonuses.

I promise when I sell my share, I will pay taxes on this amount, so that I can continue to fund the government's debacles. It is the least I can do.

I was going to post this on Ebay, but they kind of frowned on it.

A Whole Country

Blogspot is constantly evolving, adding features to make their users’ blogs more appealing to readers of the Facebook Generation. Gadgets and widgets do all sort of things like help you add your You Tube videos, post Ads, track the weather, conduct a poll, play games, track sport scores and a whole bunch of other nonsense stuff.

The only widget I use allows readers to sign up for the feed. I don’t feed them too often. And consequently I have only a few readers who subscribe to my blog. But a lot of people have checked out my profile. I can’t explain.

Today I went to the dashboard, the place where I manage the four blogs I have. Yeah, you didn’t know that did you? A new feature allows people to declare themselves as followers. And I discovered I have one. One.

I was curious. Who was it? My Dad? No. Maybe my sister? Nope. How about a friend? Not even. It was India. Okay. Cool, a whole freaking country. No…just someone named India.

Thanks India.

Spare Tires

Bike Works offered a bicycle maintenance work shop on how to change and repair a flat tire. Riding roads heavily traveled by pedestrians carrying beverages in glass bottles, and vehicles that seem to ooze glass from windshields explains part of the reasons why tires are inflicted with punctures and slashes. Bougainvillea thorns, cactus prickers and dinner forks explain the other causes and then sometimes shit just happens to tires in a volcanic setting. (I’ve never actually punctured a tire with a tinge.)

I’ve changed bike tires ever since I took my first ride down the driveway on a two wheeler at age… I don’t remember. Dad or Mike might have helped the first few times, but I definitely remember wrestling with the nut on the hub and getting a few scrapped knuckles. In those days “quick release” was something you did with a fish.

Nevertheless, I went to the evening class. I rode my bike and knew I’d ride home in the dark, something I haven’t done since coming to Hawaii. I got lights, good ones, but considering I have trouble seeing at night when I drive my jeep….well, I told myself not to ride any faster than my headlight could shine.

I figured I’d learn something and I did. If you slash your tire and make repairs to the tube along the side of the road, there is still the problem of fixing the tire. Once inflated the tube will pop through the tire’s hole and BANG, you’re sitting on the side of the road again. A dollar bill placed between the tire and the tube will solve this problem. I also learned that tires are not randomly mounted on the rim. By placing the tire’s logo near the stem of the inner tube you’ll have a handy reference for locating the spot where that piece of glass or thorn might still be lodged in the tire. I always marked the tube and tire before I removed the tube so I could match the two later.

But what surprised me most was how many women had no clue of how to change a tire. It was painful to listen to some of the questions. “How do you take the rear wheel off?” “How do you to get the air out of tire.” “Oops,” she corrected herself, “it is flat.” I turned around to take a quick peeked at the lady who asked that question. Confirmation, blonde. Not a real one. Thank God the dumb brunettes want to dye their hair blonde. Keeps us brunettes looking better than ever. Especially the silver foxes. Okay, I’m not serious, except about the foxes.

Now of these women didn’t look like they had deprived childhoods. What would they have looked like if they had? Didn’t they ride bikes as kids? Where did these women come from that they had not have the opportunity to ride a bike through a muddy puddle, or listen to the revving of a baseball card in the spokes, or ride no hands down the center of a country road weaving in and out of the dashed center line? Didn’t they make a sling shot out of an old inner tube so shredded it couldn’t be repaired?

Deprived childhoods or was mine so enriched? Yeah, mine was.

PhotoLog

After several days of rain and rather cool weather I solved the problem by purchasing a long sleeved t-shirt. The sun came out this morning and I was able to dry my towels on clothes rack set up in the sun. By noon, typical mountain clouds and haze moved in to keep temperatures to a comfortable low 80's. If this keeps up for a week, I might start venturing to the pool and to the Keauhou Canoe Club.

I rode my bike past the pool this morning and watched a class of ladies exercising in the deep end. A few lanes were open at 10 AM. I had been to Office Max to get my cable. No sign of Jack. The cable was almost as expensive as my printer. Yikes.

When I got home, I fired up the blender and made a mocha-banana smoothie. After downing that I was freezing. I know, what a wuss.

These photos were taken near the top of Hualalai, one of five above the waterline volcanos that make up the Big Island. Two others are submerged: one active and one extinct. Hualalai's an active one, but hasn't erupted since 1800-01. We all feel lucky as this one is heavily populated with Kona.

Cables

So last evening I unpack the printer and notice it doesn't come with a cable to hook it up to my computer. Rats!

Painted Pony

Office Max Jack

Prompted by a sales ad and not my bank account, I went into Office Max this afternoon to get a printer. Of course, that also meant I had to get paper and an extra cartridge of black ink. I need to print out some of the stuff I’ve been writing. That way I can see how much crap I really got verse how much I really don’t have. It’s torture for my writing soul.

After paying my state property tax I feel pretty poor. My choice is to write or get a job. In this economy, writing seems easier, but still not very lucrative.

Jack, a handsome young man, personally greeted me at the door. I guess the economy hasn’t effected the staffing at Office Max, although just three minutes past noon I could have shot a cannon through the front door and only killed poor Jack. Criminal.

So much enthusiasm swam around Jack I grabbed my wallet thinking I was getting ready to get fleeced. Jack stacked the latest sale brochures and offered one to me.

“No thanks. I have my own,” waving the one that had been stuffed in yesterday’s newspaper.

“Then, can I help you find something,” he asked?

I pointed to the HP printer in my flyer. Jack was familiar with the brand and model. He escorted me to the aisle where it was located. “It’s your lucky day, there are two left.”

“No, it is your lucky day. I’m only need one. That leaves you with an opportunity to sell one more.” I think that confused him a little. He smiled and asked if he could carry it to the front. It wasn’t much bigger than my toaster oven, but since I had him, why not use him?

“Okay, but I need an extra ink cartridge and some paper. He guided me through the empty aisles to the display of HP ink boxes hanging on the wall in nice orderly rows. He told me which cartridge model fit into my new printer and rattled off the prices. After explaining different capacity options for the HP and competing Office Max brand, he took out his cell phone. My first thought was this wasn’t the best time to make or take a call. Jack you are with the only customer in the whole store. But using his phone as a calculator he entered the number of pages each cartridge would print and divided it by the price to get a cost per page. Yeah, I got that feature on my phone too, except since I’m well over twenty-three by the time I figured it out, the store would be out of business.

“Jack, you are my kind of shopper” I told him. I was going to tell him that was how my mother shopped, but I figured I was so old he couldn’t imagine a time when my mother shopped – like in the Last Great Depression!! He calculated the difference at thirteen and nine cents a page. Impressed. I was ready to buy a big screen TV or a Toyota Land Cruiser from this kid. Instead, I did ask if the ink was going to disappear in 24 hours. He smiled.

“The paper is over here. The cheapest is in the corner.” Complete trust. I selected one ream without even looking and we were off to the register.

At the checkout, I made a point of telling Jack that this shopping experience had been a complete pleasure. Very enjoyable. The cashier laughed as Jack thanked me and turned to disappear into the tombs of the empty store.

The Comic Strips

I thought the comics where unusually insightful this morning. Bits of life seemed to fit into the black and white strips of humor.

Garfield enjoyed one long quiet day alone. Jon, the master of the house, disturbed the peace by knocking on the door and demanding to be let in. Garfield on his way to the door thought, “Darn, it's back.” The same thought floats around my day and my visiting house guest. Maybe this afternoon, or tonight or even tomorrow he shall return from the Other Side. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the peace, the lack of edge, as my cousin described the three minute encounter he witnessed.

Which brought me to Dilbert. Dibert admitted he had nothing useful to say in his presentation, but cleverly prepared a pie chart which revealed nothing. My pie chart: There won’t be any more about this guest. Unexpected results for Dilbert’s. His audience was wowed and pledged their lives to the pie chart. That brought me to Doonesbury.

One cast member (I never know who is who, but the guy who looks like he is about to go on a fly fishing expedition) lamented the responsibilities of tweetering. If you don’t know what that is, then good for you. Tweetering is a nightmarish obsession to slobber bits and pieces of your life on the internet in real time fashion to all your friends and cultish “followers.” It is a week into March and I have not posted a blog. My thoughts about Tweet: Get a Life.

Economic woes were found in Bizarro. It always proves to be its name. A pirate gave his captain grief about burying the treasure. “What are we? Squirrels?” he asks. No we are not, but maybe we should have been more like the captain and squirreled something away for tomorrow. Of course, there are those of us who did and now have very little left. Maybe we should have lived “eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we shall die.”

Our inabilities deal with reality was reflected in Born Loser, a strip I always hated because of the oafish characters. Same reason why I dislike Marmaduke, Scoobie-Doo and Goofy. (Why are man’s best friends portrayed in such an uncomplimentary manner? Since I’m not a dog person, I got my theories.) Anyway, back to reality. Sorry.

Most of us don’t have lives like our nighttime dreams, or what comes on TV. As stated in Born Loser, we can't take the clicker and change the channel. But we can pretend. Last fall, my older brother and I twisted the phrase “just like in the movies.” When something in our lives happened or when we were telling a story, we compared it to something that happened in the movies. Thank goodness it was just a weekend. Our lives never had a chance to make it to the big screen. We were released straight to a DVD. Now I’m waiting for the thriller movie about the economy. The hero? The villain?

Next came Shoe, that crusty old bird reporter, writing a helpful hints column addressing ways to eliminate clutter. Ironically, the Oscar Madison-like character was surrounded by a cluttered-filled office, complete with an old spare tire. All perched on a tree limb, mind you.

No, my office is not rat’s nest of disorganization, despite the unknown whereabouts of my house guest. I thought this comic reflected the recent onslaught of governmental legislation without stopping to think. I had always thought the advice about stopping to smoke a cigarette before responding to a crisis was a good one. If your neighbor knocked on your door and asked for 100 bucks wouldn’t you ask, “What for?” And when they said, "stuff" wouldn't you laugh?

$787 Billon later... By the way, Obama thinks the market is a good deal. Hey, I got some Florida swampland you should look at.

A good comic page isn’t complete without Family Circus. Perfect reflection. Little Billy stared at the clock and wanted to know if he was going to be an hour younger or older when the clocks get changed tonight.

Tonight? Really? Are we to change the clocks? Now that's reality. Of course, we don’t do such things in Hawaii.