Tag: money

Watch The Pennies

Daily writing prompt
Write about your approach to budgeting.
View all responses

I was seventeen when I joined the U.S. military. I didn’t begin serving until I was 18. Frustrated with life, I wanted to see the world and find answers.

Military pay didn’t go far in 1974. $344 a month was my starting salary. Desiring to make it go further, I sought guidance as I do for everything: research. Back in those days, that meant mostly hitting the library.

Finding books on budgeting, two things were stressed: one, pay yourself first. Put money into savings. Have at least a few months worth of living expenses to fall back on in case of emergencies. I married, and my wife and I made it a goal to have and keep at least six months of expenses on hand in savings.

The other thing was to always pay off your credit card. Not doing so meant that you were losing money on the interest you were paying, and that would only get worse because it would be compounded. Part of our process was that anything put on the credit card would need to be budgeted to be paid off when the bill came in. We’ve never varied from that and always have a dialogue about was, and is, going on the credit card.

Every month, we brainstormed to list all of our expenses and listed them in a notebook. Some were fixed costs; we knew what they were. They were entered first. Next, the things which needed to be but fluctuated in price and need, depending on multiple factors. This included gasoline and haircuts. Everything was listed, added, scrutinized, prioritized. We didn’t have cable TV because that was $12 which we couldn’t afford. We went to the library, checked out books, and read.

Our final pole for budget was to be frugal shoppers. Back then we saved pennies to buy an occassional dessert. We scoured ads for sales. During that time, coupons in newspapers came out on Wednesday and Sunday. We always bought the newspaper on those days, and then went dumpster diving on the coupon sections that others threw out. Most months we saved over a hundred dollars with coupons.

Later, when IRAs began, we grit our teeth and maxed contributions out. First, IRAs were savings which would earn money and be deferred for taxes, but it was also money which we could deduct from our income tax, enabling us to get the most back in taxes which we could. Likewise, when we started working for corporations that offered a 401 K, we maxed out our contributions.

And doing taxes, of course, which I always did, and still do, I hunt for deductions.

It was tough. Although we’re much better off financially, we still adhere to many of these tenets. I keepa spreadsheet of our savings. We monitor our credit cards and bunce Now, as tariffs, cutbacks, and shortages threaten supplies lines and possible high inflation looms, my wife reminds me, “We know how to live poor. We did it before. We can do it again.”

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Frieda’s Wandering Thoughts

I sometimes subscribe to Hulu for streaming content. I’m actually currently a subscriber but I put my account on hold because they’re offering anything that anyone in my household wants to watch.

They sent me a notice that they’re ‘updating our Subscriber Agreement’. Three things were specifically called out. Here is the second point, copied and pasted for your consideration.

• We are clarifying that, as we continue to increase the breadth and depth of the content we make available to you, circumstances may require that certain titles and types of content include ads, even in our ‘no ads’ or ‘ad free’ subscription tiers.

Is that not straight out of 1984? We are offering you ‘no adds’ and ‘ad free’ subscriptions but they’ll have ads.

I can imagine something similar happening at restaurants: ‘We are clarifying that as we continue to offer vegan meals, circumstances may require that certain dishes include meat and animal products.’

‘Certain circumstances’. Guess it’s the god of money forcing them to do this. “We couldn’t help ourselves.” Executives wring their hands. “It was the money. The money made us do it.”

What bullshit. I might need to change my account from ‘hold’ to ‘cancel’.

1

The Car & Suit Dream

Dreamed I came into a windfall of cash. The amount was never specified but I bought a new Porsche 718 spyder and paid cash.

Next, I purchased a Dior pewter gray suit. Though off the rack, it fit me perfectly. Oh, and this was a young thirtyish me. Along with the shirt, I bought new shirt, tie, and shoes. Wearing these things, I drove the car around. In one odd sign, however, I seemed larger than the car.

I stopped and exited the car to chat with some people I loosely knew. They admired my suit, guessing, “New?” Yes, I proudly answered. I realized I had the price tags attached. I fretted about my wife finding out how much I paid for the suit. I believed it was thousands but I couldn’t read the price tags. Each time I tried, something imposed to prevent that from happening.

I decided that I wanted to remove the price tags. I needed a knife or small snips. Looked for both, roaming around, but found neither. Did receive many more compliments about how the suit looked on me.

Getting back into the car to leave, I found that while the cockpit was as expected, the rest of the car was expanded to be an open-air bus filled with people. Didn’t surprise me. We were leaving a museum. I saw a woman who I wanted to intercept walking toward another vehicle exit. I decided I would circle around and chat with her.

“I just have one stop to make,” I told the rest. “Then we’ll be on our way and I’ll drop you off at your destination.”

I was driving down the road while making that announcement. Lovely day of blue sky, sunshine, and clouds. The roads were spacious and well-maintained, concrete with curbs, abutting parks, plazas, and museums. I circled right and went under an overpass and came back around to where I was.

That surprised me. I’d expected there to be a turn off that would take me over to the other road. I tried again — three more times in all — and met the same result. With the fourth time, my passengers said, “Oh, no, not again.

Asking for their indulgence, I gave it one more effort, but this time shifting over by one road which I’d noticed. That worked, taking me to where I wanted to be.

Dream end.

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Two Dreams of Helping

The first dream found me and my wife living in an apartment. A nice place, well lit, spacious, and quiet, it had some problems with ventilation and water, but I’d fixed them. However, one window gave me some trouble, so I went to adjust it.

I was surprised when I pulled back the window’s sheer curtains; another window, to another’s apartment was directly opposite, about a foot away. A man was over there. I easily looked into their pleasingly furnished place of overstuffed furniture (it was their living room) and then, as I thought was right, apologized to the man and made haste to shut the curtains and pretend they weren’t there.

But the woman, short, with thick, dark hair, was hurrying forward, calling, “Wait, wait.” So I did. She rushed up and asked, “How did you fix your ventilation?”

I had no real answer, explaining that I’d just kept tinkering with it. Impatiently, she interrupted, “Well, can you fix ours?”

Weirdly, there were then two other windows I could see in other people’s apartments. A woman was at each, a man behind them asking, “Can you also fix ours?”

I was taken back. I hadn’t done anything special that I could explain. I’d just kept addressing it. But I couldn’t tell them no; they wouldn’t let me. So I agreed to fix their places.

Dream end.

The next dream found me in a small square waiting room, darkish with heavy wood paneling. I’m not sure where people were waiting to go. I wasn’t waiting but just passing through. A woman escorted me through the room. I came across one individual, a man on the floor. Bearded with curly brown hair, he seemed almost lifeless.

“Oh, that’s Reardon,” the woman said when I asked about him. “He’s a lost cause. He doesn’t have a reason to go on.”

That upset me. Though the woman and I continued on through the room, Reardon stayed on my mind. I finally said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave him like that,” and went back.

Getting to him, I just gave him a long hug and talked to him, telling him that he was special, and that he shouldn’t give up. Then I went on.

I next came back into the room. Much lighter than it was before, a door was open on the other end. People were filing out. Most were already gone. Looking around, I asked about Reardon. I was told that he had recovered and that he was about to go through the door. She said he was very happy with what I’d done and kept talking about me.

I hurried over, calling him as I did. I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea, which to me, was that I was in love with him. I don’t know why I was suddenly worried that this is what he’d believe.

I called his name when I saw him. He turned and greeted me. At least a foot taller than me, I was forced to look up at him. In his right hand was a thick fan of money, mostly $100 bills.

Seeing me, he grinned. “I know what you’re going to say. I know what you’re thinking. You think that I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not. I understand what you did. Honestly, it saved me.”

He offered me money as a gift. I declined, saying something else that I don’t remember. We hugged, my face to his chest. A woman at the open door said it was time for him to go. They were waiting on him. Reardon released me and went through the doorway.

Dream end.

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The Full Agenda

Project 2025 has been on display enough that the gist has been assimilated.  Led by wealthy individuals and the Heritage Foundation, they pursue a theocracy dominated by white men. Women’s rights will be diminished, if not outright stripped. Black men will be tolerated as long as they toe the white line. If you think you’re something other than male or female as it says on your paperwork when born, forget about it. Your shall be male or female, as their god intended.

Under Project 2025, remember, too, that work is good. As they sit in homes and offices fantasizing about the American world, they want children back in the factories. Women, however, should be at home, giving birth, sexually gratifying their man, keeping the house clean and cooking and baking up a storm, cuz that’s what Jesus wanted.

Because, besides being about money, power, and their rights, it’s about forwarding their religion, even if they don’t practice it. They’ve gone from practicing what would Jesus do to what would Donald Trump do?

That’s what they pursue if Donald J. Trump is elected as POTUS this year.

What’s interesting about this is the cosmic political background.

On a Quora post, someone answered the question about whether Trump will win by pointing out that the conservative base is elderly, and they’re dying. The conservative base is also rural, and the rural population is shrinking. The young are leaving those small towns and agribusiness zones because the future is less than bright. They want adventure, education, or more meaningful jobs than what’s being offered in those little towns.

Bottom line for the conservatives, i.e., the GOP, that their potential base is getting smaller.

They’ve recognized this. They’ve countered by first, gerrymandering to favor conservative voters. Second, by making it harder to vote. Like Musk and Trump, they push the fallacy that mail-in voting is fraught with fraud. They insist the only safe solution is paper ballots with in-person voting with people presenting their government issued identification.

In doing so, Trump, Musk, and the GOP ignore the facts. That’s nothing new for them. They loathe facts. Facts often show how backward their thinking is.

But going on now, took, are several pincer movements to make Project 2025 feasible. The GOP has been attacking public education for some time. They’ve been doing this mostly through voucher programs but also by making it more difficult for teachers to teach. They challenge them wherever and whenever possible. Back in the early Tea Party days, the GOP went after the history and science textbooks. Advances and positive contributions by anyone but conservative whites, mostly men, was systemically removed from what was being taught.

See, the GOP knew their elderly, rural, uneducated base was shrinking. The answer, of course, is to re-establish that base. To do that, they politically divide the country. That’s what keeps Trump propped up in the current movement: he is really good at spewing hate and threatening the Democrats. It’s been taken to the point where MAGAts have been quoted as trusting a Russian more than they trust a Democrat. Shit is made up and thrown on liberals, progressives, and Democrats. If something sticks, than that becomes the attack mode.

We’ve seen this in action before. “Shows us the birth certificate.” “Lock her up.” “Biden is too old and feeble.” Now Trump et al is hunting for the handle to attack Kamala Harris, the Democratic Party nominee for POTUS, and her running mate, Governor Tim Walz. They’re trying everything, hoping to find something that sticks.

Meanwhile, the GOP is also working hard to get books removed from schools and libraries, along with any curriculum that teaches anything negative about white people or the history of the United States. Their goal is clear.

When young people currently graduate, they tend to be liberal. So, while the conservative base is declining – death, rural population shrinking, people growing more educated and capable – the liberal base is growing.

Therefore, the GOP must undercut education in order to stop young people from learning. Their goal is to increase young conservative voters, people who will reliably toe the conservative line.

Conservative leadership, abetted by a conservative base, are an insidious group. They do not care about the concept of the United States as a bastion of freedom, justice, and equality. That’s just for the propaganda brochures and videos. They want a power base with themselves in charge, encouraging ‘good old-fashioned hard work’ for slave labor wages while the wealthy grows wealthier. That’s how they see the United States: a grand revenue stream with low taxes for the wealthy.

It’s an old, old story. They’re just adding fiendish twists to it. Just as they knew they couldn’t legitimately overturn Roe v. Wade, with Mitch McConnell’s ‘leadership’, they denied President Obama’s SCOTUS nominees and packed the court with Trump conservative appointees. The greatest issue with that is how those nominees danced around what they would do with Roe v. Wade and then overturned it with the flimsiest possible reasoning as soon as the opportunity arose.

I didn’t provide any links to my claims, but I can find them if needed. Cheers

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WWTD?

What would Jesus do after someone shot him, apparently attempting to kill him?

The question is before us because many Evangelicals believe Trump is their savior. He shares their values, they tell us in polls, votes, and interviews. Which means, of course, that they’re not interested in stable marriages, right? Can’t be, since Trump has been married three times. What kind of values would they have, if they held that marriage was sacred and divorce is a no-no, and then admire a man who has three divorces? I wouldn’t think much of them and their values, no, I wouldn’t. I guess one of their values then is apparently divorce.

They share values with Trump, so I imagine they have a large number of affairs, too, because, you know, Trump. He’s had affairs, right? I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Trump will sponsor a ‘Divorce is sacred’ act if re-elected. Also among Evangelical supporters’ shared values with Trump is the willingness to declare bankruptcy to avoid creditors and escape financial responsibility for the misery caused to others for poor financial planning and execution. He or his companies have declared such bankruptcies a bunch of times, and he’s been sued repeatedly for not paying contractors. I guess that skipping out on their bills is another shared value. Gotta be.

Surely their values include lying and hate. Trump lies with routine regularity. Verify any of his speeches with fact-checkers and Vegas will probably give you odds that it has at least three lies in it. Therefore, truth is not a value for them, but lying, because that’s what Trump would do, is one of their shared values, and he is their savior. He shares their faith.

Nor is Trump forgiving, advocating death for others time and again. So, forgiving is not one of their shared values. Nor is turning the other cheek. Vengeance must be another of their shared values. Gotta be, right, because they share Trump’s values.

They must be proud of him today, then. Their modern-day Jesus immediately rebounded after being shot in the ear and went after the dollar. Yes, Trump’s apparatus quickly set up the sale of special commemorative shoes to remember the shooting. These “FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT” high tops, complete with Trump’s bloody face on it, can be theirs for just $299. That’s really a terrific bargain for a bloody face on a shoe when it’s your savior’s face. I bet Evangelicals snap them up and put them on display in their living rooms, along with their crosses.

I’m guessing from everything I’ve read about Trump that the Evangelicals’ values are rooted in money, like Trump. Just like their savior with whom they share values. Anything for a dollar. Just go after the buck.

Because that’s what Jesus would do.

26

Tueday’s Theme Music

Mood: Bureausilized (when activities are rendered useless by bureaucracy and become fossilized)

Good morrow, gentle folk and fellow coffee guzzlers. Today is Tuesday, May 14, 2024.

For the record, we’re fully overcast in Penn Hills, PA. It’s comfortable out, 61 F, with rain and thunderstorms chugging our way. They’re scheduled to arrive noonish. Today’s high will stroke out at 72 F.

Trump on Trial (the hush money/business fraud business) holds my family enthralled. Details are reiterated and explored. They’re also enjoying Trump’s latest tax issues, whereby he seems to be on the hook for $100,000,000 in taxes.

But doubt has been expressed that anything significant will emerge from either of these matters. Trump is white, male, and wealth, even if he may not be as wealthy as he claims. He’s also an ex-POTUS and the woeful GOP’s current candidate. Looking at the crime and punishment Venn diagram, significant punishment and karma don’t seem likely. The lesson reinforced for most of us, I think, is that the U.S. has a tiered justice system that mocks ‘and justice for all’.

The Hunt for Mom’s Caregiver goes miserably. All agencies contacted have suggested other agencies to contact. It’s a quagmire of links and promises, but little of substance is ever found. Others have found caregivers, so it is possible. Just need to moving out of expectations that any government agency will be useful.

Likewise, there’s no movement on Mom’s hospital bed request. In his case the road goes through her PCP’s office. Calling it is like shouting into a sewer. There’s not even an echo in response.

Today’s theme music veers to remembrance of David Sanborn’s work. The saxophonist died this week, robbing us of another wonderful musical talent. While more talented musicians keep emerging, the ones who marked us with their style should remain recognized and appreciated.

One of the first songs The Neurons pulled up for David Sanborn was David Bowie’s “Young Americans” from 1975. Then, as I read appreciations about him, many more people mentioned this same song. Sanborn’s body of work was much better than that, though.

I like this video which I found to showcase Sanborn. Not the best sound quality, but there’s a lot of talent on display here beyond Bowie and Sanborn. So many of them have passed.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Meanwhile, create and adhere to a vision of a better world. We make it happen, yes, we can make it happen.

Coffee is being chugged. Here’s the video. Cheers

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Employees at a local grocery store wear shirts with “Look for the food you love” on the back.

I got caught up thinking about what food I love. Pie jumped into mind. I didn’t look for pie that day. Nor did I look for fruits and veggies, which I also love, or nuts and seeds. Nor cheese. Sandwiches. Didn’t look for them, either. Or pizza, another food I love.

I just looked for yogurt that day. It was on sale. A good price.

That’d be on my tee’s back: “Look for food you love with a good price.“

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Overlapping Dreams

Dream night as busy as SFO airport on the week before Mother’s Day. All were in close third person POV, like I was outside of myself and could see me, but was focused ONLY on me.

First, there I was, being told, “Hey, you won a major prize.

Me: I did? What is it?

“A significant amount of money and famous hardware. Hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

I was very excited. Really! Can you tell me more? What did I win it for?

“You’ll find out. Just show up this morning and the details will be provided.”

This morning. That’s very short notice. I can’t make it. I’m taking my cat to the vet this morning.

“Well, the prize is waiting for you, but it won’t be there forever.”

The thing about this is it was just voices, as I’ve depicted. I saw a blue sky and a white building on a hill, but that was it. It was almost like I was just having a two-way conversation by myself.

I awoke and puzzled over that with Tucker curled up beside me. Then, back to sleep, and another dream.

I was on a curve on a road, where it crested a hill. A sniper was high on a steep hill green with trees and bushes. Shooting down on us, he was forcing us to take cover and stay still.

Walking, I came upon this happening. “What’s going on,” I demanded of my small group. I knew they were my group, but don’t recall anyone. They told me about the sniper.

I was pissed. “Shoot him. Where are our shooters?”

“They tried. They couldn’t do it.”

I scowled. “Give me a rifle.”

I peered up the hill until locating him and fired one shot. Handing the rifle back, I said, “There. Done. Was that so hard?”

I turned away as my group began talking to each other about what I’d done, very impressed about it.

Then I awoke again. I wanted to ensure I was up at 6:30. It was 4:10. Back to sleep and another dream.

I was standing by the side of a road on its shoulder. This road seemed like the same road as in the sniper dream. Also, it seemed like highway 92 in California, on the way to Half Moon Bay.

Someone said, “Hey, we need your help.”

Sounded like a male behind me. I turned, wondering, do they mean me? Before I could ask that, they pointed up a hill. (I never saw any of them but the pointing hand.) “Children are up there,” they said. “They need to be rescued. Fly up them and get them.”

I was taken back. “What makes you think I can do that? I can’t fly.”

“Yes, you can, I saw you. You just did it. You just flew in here.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Others had gathered. I was aware of their presence but didn’t see them. It didn’t prevent several from saying, “Yes, you just flew in. I saw it, too.”

Coming around to the idea that I could fly because so many insisted that I could, I said, “Okay, I’ll try. I seriously doubt that I can.”

But that’s what I did. I flew up to the children, toddlers, and young children, none seeming like they were over six or seven years old. The speed and effortless action surprised me. I was there in a blink without wings, cape, or any kind of aid.

Unlike earlier, I saw all of the children. They seemed like they were in good health and uninjured, but inexplicably alone on a mountainside. “Who are you?” one asked.

“I’m here to rescue you,” I answered. Picking them up — like nine or ten children — in my arms, I said, “We’re going to fly down. Hang on.”

Then, blink, I’m at the bottom, putting the children down. Conversations, congratulations, and astonishment flourished around me. And then, because I could, I disappeared because I’d flown away.

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