College History Finals Essay Question, pre

As you know, I like politics and military history. The perfect combination of those two is the US Civil War, although I'm big old-military history buff (in other words, I find using muskets a bit boring). This post, eventually, ends up with me writing an essay.

In my first semester in college, I read a student magazine about ways to "get ahead" and work the system. For instance, one way to work the system (to get more beer and pizza money) if Mom & Dad were footing the bill was to sign up for classes with lots of book requirements, buy those many books and then have your parents pay for the class and books. Then right when classes start, drop those classes, take those books back for a 100% discount and ta-da! You've got party money.

Yeah.

Another suggestion was selling your blood at the local blood bank.

Yeah.

The other suggestion, which I immediately took to heart was to work for adds-and-drops. The OLD adds-and-drops, which they changed a few years after I left, was held 1 week before school started. In the college basketball/concert arena, on two levels of the stadium each department had a table staffed by student representatives. Actually, they were people who worked for adds-and-drops. If you were a student looking to add or drop or switch classes, you walked around adding and dropping with slips of "official" forms. Then when you were done, you headed down to the arena floor where banks of computer terminals (1982) with green screens (remember those?) manned by more students (a one week minimum wage job) who read in your slips and told the computer what your new schedule was going to be.

The tricky part to this was that you were allowed in at a certain time based on a random organization of your last name (they were trying to be fair). At this big humongous university, they knew that some people's college careers - and how long they had left to graduate - was predicated on them getting a certain class in order to graduate. So getting a class in adds-and-drops had an effect on when some people graduated.

The key was that each department table had a track of how full a class was. So if you wanted to get into a class, they looked up the count and said "full" or "okay".

So to quote a programmer I worked with many, many years ago:

In order beat the MAN, you've got to be the MAN!

So, I applied to work for "the Man". I started off at one of those tables. And then the next semester, I got "promoted" to managing half the tables on one floor - essentially a quarter of the departments. This got to be odd as people would rush up to me and say, "Quick, I need one more class in order to qualify for my scholarship, what should I sign up for?" And then I just pointed them to one random table and told them to sign up for some history or philosophy class.

Yeah, it's that scary that they were asking for and taking the advice of a total stranger.

And then, I became the person who managed seating people while they waited their turn to be released to the floor. That taught me a lesson in angry people management. I had a couple of a$$hole law students insisting that they were in LAW SCHOOL DAMMIT and that the rules didn't apply to them because they were LAW STUDENTS and that this stupid adds-and-drop was meant for undergraduates and that LAW STUDENTS should be allowed to immediate head down to the floor to process their slips of paper.

I pointed to a bored university cop, mentioned for him to come over. He comes trudging up the steps with one hand placed on top of his holstered gun. The LAW STUDENT a$$holes immediate sat down in their seats and shut up.

(oh, and don't let me tell you about the Notre Dame a$$hole grad student who was griping about having assigned seating at football games)

And then eventually, I got promoted down to the floor. I was first the assistant to the manager of the folks handling inputs to computer screens and pulling printouts (1982 baby!). The next semester, I became the manager of the floor. These are the jobs I love - which is sorta like the jobs I've loved at the Mega-lo-corp. These jobs have high responsibility, yet freedom to move anywhere in the building I need, according to the particular problem I was trying to solve.

Twice, I was up on the Mezzanine level when a desperate "older" student was pointed to me. One had to get back to his day job within 30 minutes and could not wait the 1 hour in the holding area to get down to the floor. The other one showed me her plane ticket back to her current city. She was desperate to finish her adds-and-drops and make the plane back to her regular job.

Each time, I was pondering what to do for them. Let them cut in line? Were they just running a scam on me in order to jump ahead? In both cases, they handed me a blank check signed by them (after adds and drops, you have to pay for your new classes). In both cases I felt funny taking a blank check from a stranger and just filling out any amount; I made a judgement call and took each of them down the freight elevator and walked them through the lines and to the cashiers.

I think that's what I liked most about that job. I had the flexibility to make on-the-spot decisions to help some people who really needed it.

Lychee

I was in the corner chilled section of our grocery store the other day - in a section I normally don't frequent and I ran across these:

It even said (sniff, sniff) Taiwan Lychee. Ahhh, it makes the heart beat just a bit faster.

I've eaten Lychee in cans and literally off the branch. In Taiwan and sometimes in Asian grocery stores, they'll come with the fruits still attached to the fruit limbs.

Of course, the lychee in the can has been stripped and pitted. And it's in a SUPER sweet syrup. Think of canned peaches and how they compare to fresh peaches.
Wifey grew up in the mid-West with parents who loved canned-everything. Canned fruit AND canned vegetables. I quizzed her last night about her "canned" and "fresh" view of various fruits.
She said that she was astonished to find how some items really tasted, as they were meant to taste when not from a can.

She also says that she's slowly come around on some previously despised fruits because she "learned" them from cans first. Not all of them, but some of them.

Automatic for the People, pt 4

Yes, I'm not done!

I was going to write another post about convincing Wifey to get a Pcar (a hybrid, but I don't want people Googling the model name to keep hitting this blog - but you know which car it is).

The short of the story is we took a test drive in May and the car wasn't as bad as Wifey had recollected, and she agreed she would be willing to drive it when she had to. And in the May timeframe, the dealers had incentive discounts to move the 2009 models. We almost decided to purchase a car, but at the last minute I decided that we didn't want a second car payment until the 4th quarter. The Honda van pays off in January of 2010.

And then, my friend needed a reliable used car for his woman friend that has moved in with him. I'd rather sell my car to a good friend who would give me a fair price for the car. Suddenly, I was back in the market for a Pcar two months later.

And this is where dealing with car dealers sometimes has me pulling my hair out. In a two day period, I've been treated with arrogance and just lied to. And finally, I found a dealer that would be truthful with me.

I just wanted a base model Pcar. No window tinting, no multi-CD changer, no fancy floor mats, no solar powered cooling system. I just want an automatic that gets more than 45 mpg for under $24K.

So first thought was to contact a big city dealer. I call him, and basically he says, "Well to be honest, these cars don't have much negotiation. You can buy the same car here or in your own town it's no cheaper here based on the fact that we're in a bigger city. I'd love to sell you a car, but you can do just as well in your home town."

Ooooookay.

Then I contact the internet salesman who I dealt with in May. Now here is an interesting technical tidbit that a computer nerd like me has noticed - these individual dealer web sites all go back to the same national web server. They have their slight customizations, but the web pages showing inventory and specials are all built the same. So if you know what you're doing........you can do research without having to talk to a slimy salesman.

When you look at their web page you see this:

Car A In Stock
Car B Available
Car C Available

Okay, this means that Car A is sitting on the lot (of the dealer of that particular web page) and that Car B and Car C are in a pool of cars in the 5-state area where dealers (normally) would trade with each other.

So I email the salesman (let's call his dealership SleazeAuto) that I'm now back in the market. I tell him that I looked on the web page of his inventory and that I would like information on Car B and Car E and Car G. I tell him that I realize that these car are not in stock and might have to be delivered, but I would like a drive out price for cars: B, E, and G.

He emails me back saying, "Well, I have car A and it's got a $2500 package and so the price before TTL is $25,800".

Okay, so he doesn't even respond to my inquiries about B, E, and G. I call him up and see if I can get clarification on this. He says that he looked into B, E, and G and that they are all marked sold "by the dealers who have them". So, all he has to offer me is car A. But, it's ready to GO!

Yee-haw!

Not.

I tell him, "I'm sorry. I made it very clear that I would not even go up to $25K. I don't want to pay for these extra packages."

He then said, "Well, I'm sorry too. Almost all these Pcars come with post-factory packages because they move so quickly."

The fact is that the dealers know that people highly desire these Pcars. So, they stick un-asked packages onto them (where they make their extra profit) and just say, "These cars are hard to come by. Take it or leave it."

So then I call my friend "A", who has been in and out of the car business for many, many years. In fact, I'm selling him my old Accord for his lady friend. He says he'll check with an owner of a high end sports car dealership and see if he can pull some strings to locate the car I want.

He calls me back and says his buddy told him to call a man who knows him at SleazeAuto and mention his name! Great! So I call this guy, who I think is a sales manager and he won't budge either. He says, "I've got a guy who does nothing but sell Pcars. I should send you to him!" He doesn't know I've already dealt with him!

During the talk with the sales manager, we have the same identical chat as with his other salesman. He again tries to push me to the car they have on the lot. But then I say, "Wait. I understand that these cars listed as Available are in a pool. But can't you simply do a trade and get that car?" And then he replied, "Well, for the Pcar no one is doing trades. No one wants to put miles on them just to do the physical transfer. So nothing moves for these cars."

And then when I stressed that all I want is the simple base model with nothing added to it. And then he says, "Well, to be honest, I make my money from the post-factory add-ons. So if you are asking me to order a car with NO add-ons, I'd have to calculate how much money I would have lost NOT having those add-ons and then maybe we might factor that into your eventual price."

The chutzpah!

Adios SleazeAuto!

And then I started thinking about his words. He sorta admits that those "Available" cars are there at other dealers. So what it means is that from the web sites, I would see something like this:

SleazeAuto
Car A - In stock
Car B - Available
Car C - Available

LiarAuto
Car A - Available
Car B - In Stock
Car C - Available

TrueAuto
Car A - Available
Car B - Available
Car C - In Stock

(the three put together are just for this blog, you would just have to have 3 windows showing inventory lists of the three different dealers).

So when I emailed the first guy at SleazeAuto and said I wanted Car C, which was listed for $22,800, he told me on the phone that Car C was already purchased. But, the web site lets me deduce that this car is really sitting at the other dealer TrueAuto. I called them and......Lo-and-Behold, the car hasn't been sold!

I went ahead and called LiarAuto and he went looking for the most bare bones car for me (in his stock of course). While waiting for the callback from LiarAuto, I called TrueAuto. The internet sales manager checked and said - Yup - they had it and it was still available.

Would they take a deposit over the phone?

Nope. These cars move so fast, it's first come first served.

Okay, I told him I would try to make it later that Saturday afternoon.

Then LiarAuto calls me back and says that have two cars that are a little over $23K. I asked if he could get a car for me under $23K. He says, "Oh no...no, the minimum bare bones model will run you $23,050. You can't get anything for less than that!"

He doesn't know that I know there's a car sitting on a lot 15 miles from him that is listed at $22,800.

I ask if I could order a bare bones car from him. He hems-and-haws and says, "Well, yes. But the delivery is unpredictable. It might come in tomorrow. It might come in 2 weeks from now."

Okay, I told him I was going to look around some more.

That afternoon, our family was invited by friends to go to the local Elks lodge and go swimming with them. I dropped off Wifey and the kids and then turned around and drove North to the car dealer 15 miles away.

I got there around 2:45. We went out to the lot and.....my blue car was gone. The salesman told me that there were 5 blue cars that morning (of various models and packages) and the only sitting there was a $30K model.

Nope, not going to do it.

We went back to his office, punched up the list of cars and "my" blue car was still there. He went investigating what was going on. He came back and told me I missed the car by 1 hour. It was already being written up for sale to another person and the change hadn't been reflected in the computer yet.

He then asked if I'd be willing to wait.

Well, of course!

He then punched up the computer and showed the shipments coming into their dealership in the next 2 weeks. And specifically within the computer it showed what packages were added to the cars prior to leaving Japan. He found two blue cars coming in on the same shipment with no extra packages added.

Sold! All I had to do was put down a refundable $500 deposit. And he gave me the estimated arrival date of July 20th.

The various lies:
1) the cars are other locations are already sold
2) you can't get a car without a package already added
3) you can't get a car under $23K
4) you can't order a car and know exactly when it is going to show up
5) we just can't order you a car without losing money

I then called my friend "A" who has to now wait an extra 10 days before I can sell him my car for his lady friend. He seemed very troubled that TrueCars would not take a credit card deposit from me over the phone. He kept asking me if I was upset with them for making me go up there to find out I missed out by one hour. He kept muttering that this was a poor way to do business; That he would have never (he used to work in various dealerships) have done business that way.

I told him that the guy at TrueCars was upfront with me and told me that it was "first-come first-served". And he was right!

It's odd that my friend didn't flinch at Lies 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5 and just fixated on the fact that I lost a car by one hour.

Pictures July 21st, I hope.

And the Other Shoe Finally Dropped

We've never aggressively pushed the fact that the Girl was adopted onto her. We knew that, in time, the questions would come. We thought that by taking her along with us to adopt the Boy in China, new questions would rise up. But no, there wasn't too much great curiosity at that time. I think the Girl was too busy dealing with the fact that there was a new stranger who now had 50% of Mommy's attention.

And now she's 6, and now the gears are turning in her head.

A online chat that Wifey and I had just a few minutes ago about her drive to day camp this morning.

[posted with permission from Wifey]

8:54 AM Wifey : [The Girl] finally put all of the pieces together this morning!

after 3 days of talking about babies, China, and adoptions

me: what pieces, that she's adopted?

8:55 AM Wifey: she said "so I had other parents that wanted me but they gave me up so they could have a boy?"

me: ahhh

Wifey: I told her we would never know for sure why they put her up for adoption, but that is the typical reason

8:56 AM I did not tell her about being abandoned [at the location in China]

me: Well, that's for later, I'm sure.

Wifey: yesterday's talk was all about babies being born

8:57 AM me: I'm waiting for the next step where she then tries to map this logic to [the Boy].

Wifey: I told babies start from an egg inside the Mommy but I left out the whole Daddy role!

me: Of course.

8:58 AM Wifey: she thinks all pregnancies are planned by Mommys and Daddys, of course

we bordered on me being pregnant, but I was able to avoid anything about me

me: yeah, that's for much later.

8:59 AM Wifey: she said something again this morning, about me being pregnant "one day" and I told her no

9:00 AM I'm sure there will be more questions tomorrow!

me: Yup

More Funny Boy

A few weeks ago, Wifey took the Boy to a new dentistry practice. The first one, we felt that they weren't very truthful and above board. This new practice is much, much better - all women, all very gentle and non-threatening to the kids (pediatric dentists). The Boy needed to have a skin (gum) growth (or bump) removed with a laser scalpel. The bump developed months after we got back from China and it was starting to engulf one of his top incisors. Depending on if the growth came back, we may have sent the sample to pathology for analysis. However, it did not grow back and all is fine in his world.

But Wifey told me what happened when they were getting ready to put him under. They were calling him "Peanut" for whatever reason - that may have been a nickname that particular dentist liked to call kiddos. Or, maybe he looked like a "Peanut" to them.

While they had the laughing gas mask on him, they heard him mumbling out loud in the mask. It was like, "Mmnotaperadt! Mmnotperadt!"

They were worried that he wasn't taking the gas well, so they gently removed the mask to see what was wrong.

When they removed the mask, he said in a loud voice, "I NOT A PEANUT!"

They all laughed and put the mask back on him.

Later, when it was time to take off the mask, he fought them by putting both hands on the mask and trying to keep it attached on his face.

Nutty Boy.

That's Entertainment, pt2

So as we were sitting on the deck, enjoying the breeze and the sunshine I said, "Hey, why don't you see if your wife wants to come over?" And she left a bit early from work and came over for drinks. And then after that, I said, "Hey, you guys want to stay for dinner?"

We had a pleasant dinner on the deck. I think it was grilled swordfish, which is pretty easy to make.

A week later, the weather was still good and we decided another Friday hooky session was in order (when the weather is really good - people tend to start disappearing from their offices on a Friday like me. You only get 4 weeks of this stuff a year!)

And this time we called some other people to see if they wanted to join us.

And then this is how the dinner parties slowly evolved. I would find that we knew a few common people, I would think of who else I could invite and then people would meet each other for the first time at my dinners.

Eventually, my old neighbors got invited and then I made friends with their friends and so forth. We got into a rhythm of having a dinner every 2 or 4 or 6 weeks - depending on my work schedule.

Ahhh, my work schedule. This is where it gets back to me as the main spoke.

Most people, other than having me as the common denominator, would never have met or hung out with each other. And most people, don't like to be the one in charge of inviting people.

When our dinners first started, for newbies, I would invite them and the first awkward question out of their mouths (well, in their head they were thinking....."Why?") was, "Uhhhh, is there a special occasion?" In other words, you've never invited me to a dinner at your house, why now?

I would just say, "Dunno, it's just dinner and drinkin'"

Also, it took a while to find the groove. At first, I would just say, "Okay, here's the food." And I would serve plates of main course (steak, fish, chicken, etc....). A few of the ladies might say, "Hey...ummmm, do you happen to have salad?"

You see, this is effect of growing up in my Asian family. My family is not used to the concept of "every meal has to have an initial salad". So, I just didn't think of a need for salad (nor did I care).

I would answer:

• Ummmm, nope.
• I don't know, look in the fridge and see what you can scrounge up.
• Salad? Salad? Steak is all you need!

Finally, one of my repeat dinner guests finally said, "Johnny, I'm bringing salad next time." And I replied, "Sounds good to me!"

The dinners were a great combination of food and company. The first couple of big dinners, the guys at the end of the meal would actually reach for their wallets and say, "Hey man, this was a lot of expensive meat. Can I give you a few bucks to help out?"

I would look at them like they were crazy because you don't invite people over to charge them money! It's not a restaurant!

But to be honest, they were put into an uncomfortable position. I would refuse their offers to bring salad or dessert or wine, and I was shouldering most of the cost of the food. But I felt odd taking money from my guests.

Finally, to make the meals more "Americanized" and also to help people feel less guilty about eating a meal at my place, I started assigning "salad" and "appetizer" and "side dish" and "dessert" to the various guests.

A few years later, when I first stated dating Wifey, she looked at me once and said, "And why do you do this? Why do you spend all this money on dinners?"

She was trying to figure out if I was showing off or overly generous or a lonely person looking for company.

I shrugged and said, "It's no big deal. I like eating. I like drinking. I like having conversation over a dinner table. It's no big deal."

She gave me that cynical look. But after a few months of dating me, she no longer asked "Why" I was doing it. She had never had experienced "adult dinner parties" as an adult (and neither had I) and found she liked it as well.

[Time to write post: 22 minutes]

If this gets posted, I didn't fall

Years ago, when I was in my youth, I scurried up tall rickedy ladders with a theatre light in one hand to attach them to lighting poles. Although I have a slight fear of heights, it was no big deal in the theatre - especially when trying to look manly in front of the ladies.

It was odd to have a fear of heights and yet have no problem with ladders.

And then about 11 years ago, as I was cleaning out the attic in my last house, I fell off the ladder in my garage and landed on my right side. I bonked my head, I slammed my shoulder into the concrete, and I bit deeply into my tongue.

Surprisingly, I didn't break any bones. The doctor and nurses said it was most likely my thick shoulder muscles that prevented breakage. However, since that day I've had a lingering soreness in my shoulder that can only be relieved (temporarily) with acupuncture and a chiropractor.

And ever since that fall, my body and psyche have been extremely "tanglefoot"around ladders. I trip over the bottom steps of ladders and stairs quite often now that my confidence has taken a tumble.

And so, this year it was time to clean the ceiling fan in the living room. I've done this about 5 times since I've lived in my house of 11 years. And the odd thing is that I usually do it at the END of summer, never at the beginning (which I can't explain). So this year, it was time to clean the fan in July!

Here's the dust from almost 2 years between cleanings.
It's uhhhh....way up there.

And it is dirty, but not as nasty as it has been in the past.

Luckily, I have a "Little Giant Ladder". This is one (long extension) model they typically don't sell in stores. I had to order it through a commercial ladder company in town. And then, I barely got it home in my old Honda Accord.

What it looks like before extension.

Post extension, where the ladder is maxed out. Actually, it can change from an A-frame to a long extension ladder. Thus, I could in theory reach the ceiling (gulp) of our living room.

And the Dyson goes up with me too

After vacuuming and cleaning with household cleaning fluid

Good for another year.

Potty Mouth

Wifey told me this story, which happened Friday as I was off with a tow truck driver taking care of her van, which had a dead battery:

She had fed the kids and was getting the kids ready for bed. The Boy, he always goes first (in the world of jealousy protocol, the Girl gets to go to sleep second. And the easy going Boy doesn't mind going first).

The Boy has a very predictable digestive system. About 30 minutes after finishing dinner, he can usually present some output. And so, we always ask him to go Potty right before he his bath and then bed.

Wifey was in the bathroom with him, trying to encourage him to go poop. And then, the Girl was of course jealous and asked to come into the bathroom to help "cheer" the Boy on. The Girl loves cheerleading and one of Wifey's best friends was a high school cheerleader and taught the Girl some cheers. So Wifey encouraged the Girl to do a cheer for the Boy. The Girl started doing a standard high school pep cheer, but then Wifey asked her to change it to one for the Boy. So, she started doing a cheer encouraging the "poopy to come out!"

And then in the middle of this, the Boy asks in a very serious and low voice, "Mommy are we in the bathroom?" And Wifey answers, "Why, yes we are". Then the Boy had a sly smile on his face (all the while sitting on the toilet) and he starts saying in a low voice, "I hab a penis. Penis, penis, penis. I hab a penis. heh-heh-heh"

We've taught the kids that certain words are very inappropriate to say in public and that "penis" is a bathroom word.

And he was just waiting for the right time and place to express himself.