Coffee heat rising

The Best of Times, the Worst of Times: Stealing for Food

My friends who live just below the canal right off North Central report their garage was broken into. Even though they’d closed the garage door that evening, someone managed to get it to open. (Around here, what they do is drive up and down streets with a door opener, clicking at every house — eventually it will hit someone’s code and up will come the door.)

Weirdly, the only things the guy stole were food, a few small tools, and a cosmetics case whose contents he dumped out and left behind. He didn’t hotwire either car; didn’t get into the car trunks; didn’t take any of the other stuff in the garage.

He emptied out their freezer, which held a stash of Costco meats and things the wife cooks and stores for future use. Because their relatives are about to descend on them for the holidays, my friends had stocked up, so the guy got a good haul of things to eat.

Because of some problems with a mentally ill neighbor, they have security cameras trained on the front of the house. So…they (and the cops) were able to see that the door quietly rolled open along about 10 p.m. There’s a walking path along Central one house to the west of theirs, and so probably the guy was just strolling up and down there pointing his door opener.

He had enough sense not to dart right in  — the vics might have caught him had they heard the door opening and come out to check. Instead, he came back about midnight and just carried out the loot, unmolested.

Isn’t that something? We’re living in a society now where people have to steal to eat. Now there’s a point of pride…

And speaking of weird thefts, my neighbor across the street reports that someone walked into their backyard and stole their swimming pool cleaner, right out of their pool!

I think I saw that guy. He was parked in front of my next-door neighbor’s in a pickup filled with pool gear, looking like a pool serviceman. Since Terri does use a pool service, I just assumed he was her guy. Wrong, apparently.

He saw me, too, so that’s probably why he didn’t come into my yard and grab Harvey. That, and the fact that the gates are locked.

Some time back, Terri told me that her pool service dude was supposed to repair her Hayward pool cleaner. She comes home from work, looks in the pool, and realizes he hasn’t fixed it — he’s REPLACED it with an old, scruffy-looking unit! She was furious. When she confronted him, he tried to deny it.

Thought she’d fired the jerk, but maybe she’s still using him. If that’s the case, evidently he gets his replacement parts from the neighbors’ backyards!

And the do-gooders wonder why we don’t care to part with our Smith & Wessons? LOL! Well, okay, it would be hard to shoot some wretch who needed food, unless he tried to brain you with a frozen roast. And I suppose ripping off a $300 pool cleaner doesn’t quite merit the death penalty. But you never know with these characters — most of them are high on meth and other drugs, and they’re just as likely as the law-abiding homeowner to be armed.

Car Shopping

e-mail correspondence of the day…

Funny to SDXB, 10:21 AM:

Honda_CR-V_EX_--_07-11-2012_2My son theoretically wants to go look at cars today. He invited me to tag along, to serve as moral support against the car sales vultures.

Mine is back in the shop. Really, it’s got 124,000 miles on it…think it’s about time to get serious about replacing it. The costs though…holy SH!T! I don’t have that much saved up. And without a job and a real income, I’m not gonna get that much saved up, either. Ever.

SDXB to Funny, 1:00 PM:

Just spend the effing money, Funny, and get yourself a good sedan. I recommend the Camry.  Damn nice cars, and the gas mileage you can expect makes the deal more attractive.  Your old Sienna is beginning to nickel and dime you. Buy a reliable car now and it’ll probably last until your kid uses it to drive the ashes to wherever.

Funny to SDXB, 6:10 PM:

I’m  not nuts about the newer Camry models. They’re not roomy enough, and they suffer from the same Fordification that has begun to afflict Toyota in general..

Chuck replaced the rear brake thingies for free. But he said if that didn’t fix the squeal, then the brake drums would need to be replaced. I said if that were the case he’d be replacing the drums on a new Honda CR-V. He laughed.

Amazingly, M’hijito called yesterday and asked if I would accompany him to various dealers to test-drive candidate vehicles, whose specs, as luck would have it, happen to coincide pretty much with my own needs and desires. He didn’t want to confront car salesmen alone any more than I do…so…two’s company. As it were.

We looked at the Hyundai Tucson, Honda CR-V, the Subaru Forester and Crosstrack, and the Toyota RAV-4.

He seemed to favor the Subaru (mostly, I think, because his friends drive one and also because you can get almost all the Honda’s considerable bells & whistles in the Subaru for less money). And I’d say that for a young man who will buy several more cars during his lifetime and will be knocking around with camping, fishing, dog transport, and Home Depot adventures, the Subaru would be highly serviceable. Also, he’s thinking of moving to Wisconsin, and the Subaru comes equipped with a standard anti-skid feature that will pull the car out of a skid on ice. So we’re told. There’s room to install a couple of kidlet car seats, should he ever find the Mother of My Grandchildren, and still have room for Charley, too. The Subaru has a slightly sporty feel, too, which maybe appeals to a young man.

Neither of us cared much for the 2013 RAV-4. Toyota has really cheapied down the interior, with plastic imitation materials that would make you wonder why anyone would want them even if they were real materials. By the time we got there, I was tired and my patience was short, the result being that I took an instant dislike to the sales-bi*ch who was foisted onto us. M’hijito didn’t seem to respond to her the same way I did, and so I assume my reaction to her was the result of weariness and old-lady crankiness. But she kept babbling on and on and ON reciting, pretty much in a monotone, what was  a very long and very obviously canned spiel. If she had just SHUT THE F**K UP and let us examine the vehicle quietly and ask questions that would have elicited the same pitches when we were ready to listen to them, she would have gotten a lot farther with me.

The Honda feels a little more luxurious — it has a pleasantly appointed interior. With lumbar support and an armrest, the driver’s seat is unbelievably comfortable. Unless I crash this vehicle and total it, I believe the next car will be the last one I’ll ever buy. So I’m willing to pay a little more to get something I think I won’t get tired of.

The spaciousness of the driver’s and front-seat passenger area is comparable to the Sienna’s. Leather seats and the very generous standard set of bells & whistles make it a very, very  nice car. Luxurious, really. The back seats fold down — not completely flat, unfortunately, but good enough for government work. There’s plenty of room for two little pooches or one big dawg back there. Pup should come crate-trained. Cassie also will go in a crate without much complaint. So I’m thinking when I get this new tank, I’ll get one of those soft-fold crates for Cassie and put her in it when she rides in the car — that will be a lot safer for her. And then Pup will simply never have a time when he runs around loose inside a car. The vehicle has a TON of space for gear and purchases. In theory I could go camping IN the damn thing. Just bring a soft mat and a sleeping bag, and voilà! A hard tent!

Funny to readers: 6:30 PM:

So what think you, dear readers? Does anyone own any of these vehicles? If so, how are they doing for you? Has anyone researched them, or does anyone trade in the things?

Each of us is looking for a dependable crossover vehicle with plenty of room for dogs, cargo, and traveling. Any ideas?

Image: 2012 Honda CR-V. IFCAR. Public domain.

New Corgi Puppy: The Word Is OUT!

LOL! My Life with Dogs could be a novel. Or a stage play:

Neighbor Couple with Chocolate Lab, on hearing the news that Cassie’s Human hopes for a pup next spring:   Ohhhhhh! That’s exactly the size of dog we want for our next dog! We’re getting a little old to handle a bigger dog.

Cassie’s Human: Google “Corgie breeder Wittmann Arizona”!

Cassie, eying Chocolate Lab: Hm…. you appear to be fairly tame, don’t you? You may genuflect to me.

***

Young Woman Being Dragged Up the Street by a Fine-Looking Coon Hound; she has NO IDEA what a coon hound is for: A new puppy? That is SOOO wonderful!

Cassie: Make my day, you chucklehead!

Coon Hound: Holy sh!t!!!

Young woman: Gaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! (Doppler effect as Young Woman and Coon Hound disappear into the distance)

***

Cassie’s Human: ….and I put a deposit down on a corgi pup due to be born next spring…

Cassie’s Human’s Son: Uh huh. (Evinces no sign of surprise.)

Cassie’s Human (aside): How does he get to be a mind-reader?

Cassie, addressing Charley the Golden Retriever: You do remember who’s boss here, right? You little chucklehead!

Charley the Golden Retriever: Yes, Majesty!

***

La Maya, loyal servant to two dachshunds: Wittmann???? Augh! That’s where we got Hans. He developed Valley Fever less than a week after we got him…the vet says it was because of all the dust out there…

Cassie’s Human (aside): Holy sh!t!!!

Cassie, smiling sweetly at Hans: Make my day, you little chucklehead!

Hans jumps up onto the sofa, out of Cassie’s reach.

La Maya: Better ask them if they also breed dachshunds!

***

Pretty Young Blonde, being dragged up the street by a large, scrawny, abused-looking Adolescent Heinz-57 Pup: (pant pant pant!) Don’t worry, he’s friendly!

Cassie’s Human: Right. I’m sure!

Cassie: Make my day, you little chucklehead!

Adolescent Heinz-57 Pup: You’re so adorable!!! (Adolescent bounds up to Cassie, dragging Pretty Young Blonde into the fray.)

Cassie: Let me out of this thing so I can kill the little chucklehead! Cassie slips her lead and circles around to confront Adolescent Heinz-57 Pup.

Pretty Young Blonde: Eeeeek!

Cassie’s Human: Uh oh….

Cassie: One step closer and you die, you little chucklehead!

Adolescent Heinz-57 Pup:  I LOVE you!

Cassie: You  may prove it by bowing down and making obeisance. If you’re good enough at it, I may let you live. Briefly.

Pretty Young Blonde hauls Adolescent Heinz-57 Pup away. Dust settles.

Cassie’s Human: And…uhm, where did you get THAT thing?

Pretty Young Blonde: I just adopted him yesterday from the Humane Society!

Cassie’s Human (aside): What were you smoking at the time? Cassie’s Human reaffixes collar to Cassie, pretending that this matters. Speaking to Pretty Young Blonde: He’s very, uhm, cute!

Pretty Young Blonde, hollering as she’s being dragged away: We’re taking him to obedience training on Monday!!!

Cassie: That should be quite the spectacle.

***

KJG, loyal servant of a Doberman pinscher:   You’re kidding!

Cassie’s Human: No, seriously! The pups are expected in March.

KJG: Oh, my.

***

Cassie’s Human’s Accountant and  Friend: You’re kidding!!!!

Cassie’s Human: No, seriously! The pups are expected in March.

Cassie’s Human’s Accountant lapses into stunned silence.

***

So it goes: life with the humans that belong to dogs in the Valley of the Sun. We all can’t wait to meet the New Pup.

12 Things I Would’ve Thought I’d Never Live to See

A dozen amazing things that were unimaginable when I was a little kid:

• A human-made camera in orbit around Saturn, taking a photo of the earth.

• A Black President in the White House.

• A woman as Secretary of State.

• A woman in charge of the Fed.

• A woman as CEO of a company she didn’t start herself.

• Every car equipped with seat belts and air bags.

• Cars that run upwards of 100,000 miles.

• Mobile phones that function as tiny computers and cameras

• Solar panels that actually work.

• The Colorado River threatening to run dry, depicted in an eye-popping graphic.

• Open-source classical music you can access or download free of charge — as digitized music or as scores.

• Fifteen percent of Americans on food stamps.

Earth-Moon_system_as_seen_from_Saturn_(PIA17171)

Image: Earth-moon system as seen from Saturn. NASA. Public domain.

Does a $1200 Purse Make You Upper-Class?

Here’s news from New York of a designer handbag store that, we’re told, has “an Upstairs, Downstairs feel, or more precisely U. and non-U., to borrow the linguist Alan S. C. Ross’s shorthand for ‘upper class’ and the aspiring masses made famous by the Nancy Mitford essay The English Aristocracy.”

Here our intrepid reporter, possessed of a winsomely dry wit, comes across “a neat little sports car of a clutch from the Marano family (presumably dotty Italian noblemen cousins), a model favored by Kate Middleton, a salesclerk told me.” The price? $1,195. “‘The clasp is a removable clock,’ he [said].”

LOL! I thought I’d fall off my chair laughing!

It gets better.

To set itself off from the hoi polloi of the handbag set, this Anya Hindmarch store offers bespoke custom engraving of your pricey object, in a copy of your own handwriting. Any phrase you can dream up.

So there, Frugal Scholar! Find that at the thrift store!

Our reviewer reports: “In the mad new handbag economy, prices qualify as moderate, though there are pieces made of alligator in the five figures.”

Five figures. Not sure I can count that high on my fingers when it comes to cash dollars, but I believe that would come to something over 10 grand. For a purse.

Now, I dunno about you, but if I had 10 grand that I didn’t know what to do with, just laying around the house, I’d use it to buy a sane Republican into the House of Representatives.

Far more unique. And when you take it to parties, it can talk to people for you. No tacky handwriting there!

😆 🙄 😆

Sun City Poverty: Gettin’ Old and Gettin’ Poor

Last night SDXB invited me over for dinner and an outdoor concert at the bandshell in Sun City, where he lives. Uhm, in Sun City, that is…not in the bandshell. 😉

His home is in one of the older sections of Sun City, a term that actually denotes three developments: the original Sun City proper, Sun City West, and the much more recent tracts of Sun City Grand. All of these occupy a vast segment of the West Valley and, as a tax bonanza, have largely been engrossed by a town called Surprise, once a migrant worker settlement but now a suburb of Phoenix.

The original Sun City tract, which Del Webb began to build in the early 1960s, has seen its better days. During the recession, most of the little businesses in the development’s strip malls closed, and to this day many storefronts are empty. Near the bandshell, one strip mall is filled exclusively by second-hand stores. Although I’d heard, some years ago, that poverty is far from unknown in the Sun Cities, I was surprised to see a large food bank as we drove into the more venerable part of town. It occupies a defunct Safeway site and serves 400 people a day. In addition, Sun City hosts five other food pantries.

In the original Sun City proper, 6.48% of residents live in poverty, up from 4.61% in 2000. In Sun City West, where the population is younger and more affluent to start with (houses cost significantly more in Sun City West), the poverty rate 2.7%.

The old section is poorer than the newer tracts in Sun City West and Sun City Grand. This is not surprising: many residents in the original Sun City have been there a long time and now are in advanced old age. As you age your way through retirement, you run out of money. Residents in the newer sections by and large are younger and less likely to have outlived their savings. And the tract houses in the original Sun City are relatively cheap. Some duplexes and garden apartments there are very cheap, indeed, and there’s even a trailer park. So, younger seniors who move into that part of the Sun Cities are probably less affluent to start with.

No doubt the biggest contributor to poverty in Sun City is uninsured infirmity. Medicare does not cover nursing home care. So if one member of a couple has a stroke or comes down with, say, Parkinson’s, MS, Alzheimer’s, or Lou Gehrig’s disease, obtaining care for the person will (not “may”) drain their savings to zero. In SC West the disability rate among poor males is 51.2% (as opposed to 25.9% among local residents not classed as poor and 16.0% among Arizonans in general); among poor women, 49.1% are disabled, vs 22.7 of female residents not “poor” and 19.1% of Arizonans in general. Clearly, with age comes illness; with illness comes poverty.

Only after your savings have been drained and you have divested yourself of most of your property to pay your medical bills are you eligible for Arizona’s version of Medicaid. While my mother was dying in a nursing home, my father met a woman whose husband had been in that dismal, cruel place for TWO YEARS, with no end in sight. He’d had a stroke, was a vegetable, but could not die. Keeping him there to rot away was costing everything they had. By the time he died, she expected, she would be utterly without assets.

Once you’re old, the only way to protect yourself from this fate is to divorce or, if you’re already single, divorced, or widowed, never to marry. If you want to be with a partner, live together in unwedded bliss and keep your assets separate.

To protect his mother’s few remaining dollars and keep her out of the most abject imaginable poverty, SDXB had to arrange to divorce his Roman Catholic parents as his father lay dying, ruinously, after 18 years of Parkinson’s disease. When his mom died, a couple of decades later, she was living in an aging trailer park and had $6,000 to her name — and no, she did not live high off the hog. Never did, during her entire life.

If you’re not approaching your dotage yet, there are a few ways you can protect yourself. But you’ll need to start planning ahead now. Bear in mind that about 40% of elders will spend some time in a nursing home before they die.

Number one is to get yourself some long-term care insurance. Companies are trying to phase out this kind of coverage, and so it probably would be wise to get at least some coverage now, even if you’re under the recommended age of about 50 or 55. The younger you are when you buy this kind of coverage, the lower the premiums are. Conventional wisdom has said you should wait until you reach your 50s to buy long-term care coverage, thereby saving on the costs that would accrue over a lifetime if you bought it at a younger age. However, obviously if long-term care insurance is going away, you would be wise to grab it while the grabbing’s still good.

This is really not an option. The median cost of nursing-home care is $207 a day. That’s upwards of $75,500 a year! At that rate, a long-term infirmity will drive you and your spouse into true penury in a brief period. Even if you die after, say, two years in a home, the cost could consume half or more of the savings intended to support you and your spouse to the end. And costs are rising swiftly.

Second, try to take care of your health. Keep your weight, blood pressure, and blood sugar levels under control as you enter and pass through old age. Don’t smoke, don’t do recreational drugs, and don’t drink to excess. Drive carefully and wear your seatbelts.

Third, have an exit plan. You need a way to finish your life when livable life is over. Actually, you need more than one way:

a) Be sure to have a living will — doesn’t matter how old or young you are — and that you have given powers of attorney to someone who can be trusted to carry out your wishes. Do not rely on a doctor to do this — after my father had a major stroke at the age of 84, his doctor refused to abide by the terms of his living will. Appoint someone who understands with and agrees with your wishes.

b) Quietly prepare yourself to provide your own exit, if need be and if opportunity arises. When there’s really no hope for survival and the future holds only suffering and prolonged infirmity, you may have to find your own way to the door. And you know, you should have those plans in place before the need arises.

It’s a sad thing when people have to contemplate suicide by way of protecting the future of a spouse or an infirm dependent. However, it’s a reality we have to deal with.

As Walter Cronkite used to say, “That’s the way it is…” Monday, October 7, 2013.

This post was included in the October 23 Carnival of Retirement at Mom and Dad Money.