Who Can You Trust Anymore?

Last month both Bill and I received letters from the American Legion Post 28, of which we are members, requesting donations to fix their roof.

I thought it was an odd request since the American Legion Post 28 is the fourth largest American Legion in the United States.  Whenever we're down there (we only go to put our name on a ledger to reserve a ride to the Veterans Medical Center in Wilmington - we would spend more time at their facility in Millsboro but smoking is permitted on the premises because they are a private club and we can't take the second hand smoke) we note that the parking lot if full and the facility itself is full, with veterans' playing pool, hanging out at the bar (yes Virginia, veterans hang out at the bar at even 10 AM in the morning - private club don't you know), and eating at their restaurant facilities.

Photo I took of the American Legion Post the time I tripped on that yellow strip and fractured my arm. 

I correctly assumed that this American Legion post was flush with money.  They have several fund raisers during the year.  Our membership costs $39 a year.  And, they have gambling on the premises and you know that the house always wins when there is gambling.

So it was with some puzzlement that I read this letter from the American Legion begging for money.  What really caught my eye was the sentence:

"The why of the lack of funds is not important at this point."

WTF? (excuse the French)

My first thought was someone has embezzled money from the American Legion. This coming from me who adult working career was accounting and control in the trust department of several different banks.  Yes, I was the guy who made sure the debits and credits matched.  My last jobs at several different banks I was brought in as a consultant to reconcile out of balance situations.  And in doing so I often uncovered "sticky fingers" that took advantage of those out of balance situations.  So of course my first thought reading "The why of the lack of funds is not important at this point."  

SOMEONE STOLE THEIR MONEY.

Yesterday, while I was on the computer, Bill appeared at my home office door with his iPad and said "Look at this Ron."  Of course I was irritated being interrupted from my online Scrabble game but these days I try to be more patient, as people are often patient with me.

This is what I saw on Bill's iPad:

Yep. Five officers of the American Legion Post 28 were charged with STEALING $641,000!

WTF?

Actually, there were six of them stealing, one has since died after stealing $218,040.  

Folks, I cannot emphasize enough how disappointed I am in this development.  Actually I was sick to my stomach when I read it.  With all the thievery going on today; from the top 1% taking even more from the rapidly disappearing middle class, to lying politicians, to identity thieves, to our outrageously expensive medical system, to harassment by telemarketing calls, to . . . . . . well, so much more.  The one institution I could count on was the American Legion, especially this American Legion post which gave us free rides (Bill and I always paid them anyway) to the VA in Wilmington

I am reminded of that old Johnny Carson/Ed McMahon show before Johnny hit it big time with the "Tonight Show."

"Who Do You Trust?"

Note:

Header photo on this blog Bill took of me butching it up by the tank outside the American Legion Post 28 last summer

My First Public Exposure

Ryan Gosling and Steve Carell in the infamous scene from their movie "Crazy, Stupid Love."

A long time ago, a young Ron Tipton joined a stamp club.  

The year was 1953.  

I was an innocent (yes, at one time I was "innocent") 12 years of age.

It was my first year in high school.  Junior High to be exact.  I think in these politically correct days "Junior High" is called "Middle School", lest we traumatize young 12 year old minds that they are "less" than their senior high school classmates.

Oh how well I remember my traumatization of entering high school.  My biggest fears were gym and taking showers NAKED.  Yes folks, I was scared shitless.  But I'll always remember what my gym teacher, Mr. White, told us during our first gym class (before the showers).  He said (and I am paraphrasing here):

"I know a lot of you are afraid to take showers with the other boys.  Well, I'll tell you right now they all LOOK ALIKE."  

And of course we all knew what he meant by "they."  He's talking about that male anatomy appendage, the penis.  

Folks, going from elementary school (grades one through six) to high school was a major life change for me and many other 12 year old boys.  Not only were we on the threshold of our teenage years, we were literally losing a major part of our innocence. 

Check out the photo in the header of this blog.  I am on the far right (with my name over my head), the boy with the rolled up jeans.  Back in those days I was growing in leaps and bounds, thus my Mother brought me "expandable" jeans.  By the way, the photo I took from my former classmate and long time friend Larry ("Lar") Meredith.  "War" is third from the left in the back with a circle over his head "Lem".

1953-54 Stamp Club Downingtown High School

So back to my first big "exposure."  After Mr. White had his "talk" with his bunch of Nellie Boys, we had our gym period class.  Don't ask me what we did, I was too preoccupied about the Big Moment.  That "Big Moment" was after our physical activity and we all ran back to the funky smelling gym to take our showers. 

Nervously, I went to my gym basket where we had stashed our school clothes after we changed into gym shorts. By the way, those white gym shorts were very cute.  I guess the kids these days wear the ultra silky and baggy NBA type "shorts."  Not sexy at all. 

I pulled off my white T-shirt and white shorts (all white in those days folks) and my white socks, not daring to look around at me.  Then I shakily walked towards the sounds of the rushing shower water pounding on the funky tiles of the HUGE shower room.  No individual stalls here folks like I heard they had in the girls showers.

Well, my first impression was that I was overwhelmed by all the nakedness.  With two younger brothers and a father who like to lounge around the house in his sweaty tank top and greasy gray (formerly white) jockey short (no "tightie whitie for Pop here folks), I was no stranger to seeing a penis other than mine.  But to see so many all at once.  OVERWHELMING. 

And you know something folks?  Mr. White was wrong.  They don't all look alike.  In fact, everyone was different.  No two were the same. Penises and fingerprints, all different. Mr. White lied.  I know, I looked.  And looked. In fact, for the next six years I looked. 

Shocked?  Well, don't be.  Just imagine if you were a young heterosexual 12 year old and you were taking showers with the opposite sex, wouldn't you do some ogling too? Sure you would.   I'm telling you folks, this was one time being a homosexual where I had an advantage.  Nice.

By the way, I started this blog posting about my stamp club membership.  I was reminded of that occasion by the picture my friend Lar had posted on his blog of our stamp club membership.  Maybe I'll do a posting about that subject next time.  

Good Commercials - Bad Commercials

I hate commercials.  Ads and commercials are the ban of my life. 

I've cancelled magazine subscriptions because of the obscene overload of ads (Vanity Fair). 

I DVR almost all of my TV shows so I can fast forward through commercials. 

Every year there is one commercials that particularly grates on me.  A commercial that make my blood boil because of the phoniness of it.  One such commercial is the one at the beginning of this blog.  It is a commercial for Ameriprise Financial.  

The first time I heard it, with the Rod McKuen voiced singer, I hated it.  

Then I looked at the images of the commercial.  All phony crapola.  

I looked up the name of the singer (on my Shazam app on my trusty iPhone) and came up with someone I never heard of: "Jake Reese."  

I did a little more research and not surprisingly I find that "Jake Reese" is a phony.  His real name is  "Jaap Reesma" and he is from The Netherlands.  Not that there is anything wrong with being Dutch and having that unusual name but come one, "Jake Reese"?  He's phony and he sings a phony song.

"I've been a poor man, I've been a king."  Oh no you haven't. I revile everything about this man, his music and the images in the commercial.  Every time the commercial comes on I lunge for my remote control to press the mute button or fast forward. 

I CANNOT STAND THIS COMMERCIAL.

Now, recently another financial company, Chase Bank started to run a commercial.  Now this commercial I love.  I LOVE THIS COMMERCIAL.

Check it out.  Watching and listening to this commercial makes you feel good and there is nothing phony about it.  To me the message in this commercial is going all the way for your daughter.  The music background is perfect. 

"What a Man."  Indeed, what a man and what a commercial. There is more quality acting and more said in this one minute commercial than many two hour movies.  


Can I hear an "Amen"?

Renovations Complete!

Happy at work last night - like the new curtain?

Regular followers of this blog know that I work part-time as a front desk agent at a boutique hotel in Lewes, Delaware.

For the past two months the hotel where I work has been undergoing total (ceilings - no more popcorn ceilings - to floors to toilets) renovations.  

To say working at the hotel during the renovations has been an inconvenience would be an understatement.  But you know me, I'm easily inconvenienced (fussbudget that I am). 

Yesterday, when I returned to work was welcomed by the final phase, the renovation of the front desk area.  Ah, the smell of new carpets, manna from Heaven. 

Newly renovated hotel lobby at the hotel where I work

I am SO LUCKY to still be able to work, albeit part-time.  And the icing on the cake is that I work at this top-notch hotel in thee visitor destination, Lewes, Delaware.  

As I had stated earlier in this posting, I am a fuss budget.  I'm a clean freak.  I am a PAIN IN THE YOU KNOW WHERE.  I wouldn't work at a hotel that I wouldn't stay myself.  Of course I can't afford to stay at the hotel where I work.  The only exception being when I'm snowed in and that has happened twice, and believe me I luxuriated in that king sized bed with the fantastic water view.

So folks, with all the bad that is happening in the world.  With all my aging issues. With all my constant battles fighting tent worms in my wild cherry tree and starlings building nests in my Purple Martin house. I am happy to report that I work at a fabulous place.  

Good things happen to good people hotels.  

Medical Update

Me waiting for my doctor at the VA Outpatient Clinic this morning

Just returned from my six month checkup at theVA Outpatient Clinic.  

I have "labs" taken every six months.  "Labs" are a blood test.  This is how my prostate cancer was discovered three years ago.  Just think, if I wasn't on a six month regimen of labs, I wouldn't have known of my growing prostate cancer until it was too late. Thank God for the VA.  

Three years ago I had radio active seed implants in my prostate gland to eliminate that growing cancer. Other than some continuing and annoying side effects (don't ask, you don't want to know), my prostate cancer has not returned.

Thus every six months I approach these consultations with my doctor reviewing the results of my blood tests.  This morning was no exception. 

Good news folks!  My PSA score has not gone up! I'm cancer free.  

Cancer survivor here.

Every Have One of THOSE Mornings?

Bill cleaning the corrosion off the battery tip points

Oh yes, I'm sure many of you know what I'm talking about when I say I had one of THOSE mornings.  

Here it is, almost 12 noon and I just wasted spent most of the morning straightening out one of those 
"snowball" problems.  You know what I mean by "snowball", like a small snowball rolling down a snow covered hill that grows and grows until that snowball is boulder size and crashes at the bottom of the hill?

So here is what happened this morning folks.  I got a notice yesterday that my AAA membership automatic renewal needed an update on my credit card.  Innocuous enough, right? Yeah, that's what I thought too.

So the credit card I use for my AAA membership is locked up in my safe.  Why do I use that credit card and not my usual Master Card and/or Discover card?  Well, because it says "AAA" on the card, it's a VISA (my last backup card in case both my others don't work) and I only use it for renewing my annual membership.  I don't carry that card with me since I only use it once a year.

So I go bopping downstairs to the safe.  I try to enter the number for the electronic device that opens the safe.  Nothing. NADA. 

Yep, the batteries are gone.  Great.  Didn't I just replace those batteries?  Yes, I did.

The last time I tried to open that safe, it didn't work either because there was such a long period that I had opened the safe that the batteries had corroded. Wow, that sentence didn't seem right but I'm a bit stressed out this morning so I'll let it go.

First thing I do is try to get the unit off that contains the batteries.  

I can't get it off.  The screw that is holding the unit is on the bottom (of course, American design why would they - Sentry Safe - make it easy?)  

Phillips head or flat head?  Dunno.  I try both. Neither works.

Time to call my live in handyman, Bill.  Otherwise known as my husband/spouse/partner/roommate (yeah) and whatever.  

He manages to get the unit off (Phillips head).  He sees that the corrosion is on the heads where the batteries touch.  

Hey, isn't this narrative interesting?  Yeah, I thought so too but I have to get this off of my chest.  

Bill takes the whole unit out and cleans it up.

I get on the Internet and pull up my AAA account, wondering why they have my very old credit card, because last year they charged the right credit card. 

I can't sign in.  See where I'm going with this folks? 

So I go through the routine of checking the box "I forgot my password."  Well folks, I won't bore you with all the hoops I had to jump through here but suffice it to say that the name of my first pet is now again out there in the worldwide web.  I know that name will come back to haunt me someday.  

I assign myself a new passcode and get into my account.  Sure enough, they have my current credit card but they need an expiration date.  I can't get into the safe to get it then I remember, "didn't I put that credit card in another safe?"  I check and darn if I didn't.  

I retrieve the credit card and enter the current credit card number and expiration date and, this is important, the "code".  Viola!

Back downstairs and Bill is still working on the unit with the batteries for the safe.  He's totally stressed now.  Hey folks, it doesn't take too much to stress out an 87 year old and 74 year old, especially two old gay men who are creaking around the house and losing their brain cells daily.

We have a few more "words" (Bill wants me out of there).  I saw that Bill put a different screw back on the battery unit.  Being the anal pain in the ass (no pun intended) that I am, I insist that he use the same screw (hey, another unintended pun, what is it with the English language anyway?)

I had taken the screw because I didn't want him to lose it.  Anyway, he took off the old screw and put on the screw that came with the unit.  

Bill putting the unit back on the safe with the "right" screw

All is done now and it's time to go food shopping on this cold and windy Sunday.  Whatever happened to Spring anyway?  

Of course I couldn't update my Scrabble boards on Facebook, thus causing angst with some of my fellow Scrabble players who probably think I'm still in bed.  HA!  

Folks, it's been one of those days. Time to destress. 

"Destress" . . . is that even a word?

Lunch at the Marathon Grill, Philadelphia, PA

Me and Tom at the Marathon Grill April 1, 1994 - my last day at my job in Philly

Still here folks!  I just got back from a three day visit to Philly yesterday.  And yes, I had a fabulous time.  I love Philly.

So much to talk about but short of time this morning folks.  So I'll just post about my reuniting with my former co-worker and friend Tom J.

Twenty-two years ago today, April 1, 1994; I quit my job at the First Fidelity Bank in center city Philadelphia.  Tom took me to lunch at the Marathon Grill on South 16th Street in Philadelphia.  

This past Tuesday I was eating breakfast at the Marathon.  I was seated at my favorite table by the window watching the lemming workers going to work.  Something seemed very familiar about sitting next to that wall of glass watching all the activity outside on 16th Street and then it hit me.  Almost exactly to the date, twenty-two years ago I was seated at this very same location (different table) with my co-worker and friend Tom J.  I asked the waitress to take a photo of me at this table.

Me seated at the "window" table at the Marathon Grill by S. 16th Street, Philadelphia, PA

Then I had a great idea (as I am often do, humble me admits).  I called Tom and asked him if he would like to have lunch at the Marathon.  He said he would and we met the next day.  

Me and Tom at a booth at the Marathon Grill (all the window seats were taken during lunch hour this day) March 29, 2016

After lunch we walked up 16th Street to Liberty Place to meet another co-worker who is still working at the bank!  Wow, I cannot imagine me still working in Philly twenty-two years later.  

Tom J. and Jim O., both former co-workers at the bank (Jim still works there!)

I made the decision to leave my job (I didn't have another job) at the bank and Philly because I just had enough of city living.  I wanted a more interesting life other than just "working for The Man."  And man oh man, have I ever had an interesting life since I left that job and working in center city Philly.  

Of course we all make our own decisions according to what we believe will enhance the quality of our life.  Tom retired early at 48 years of age. Tom he made a lot of money after he left his job several years later by going into business for himself and then selling that business to Boston Scientific.  Me? I began an odyssey that continues to this day.  Do I have any regrets about quitting my job?  Oh no.  OH NO!  Do I have other life regrets?  Oh sure.  OH SURE.  

These days I like to visit Philly.  Philly has changed a lot.  It's actually a happening city now.  No longer are the streets deserted when the office workers leave at 5 PM.  Now there is a thriving and vibrant pulse of activity in center city Philly.  Philly is fun.

Next month I return.  Travel Buddy Pat is coming down from Toronto.  More adventure awaits.  And yes, I'll ask Tom to join us for lunch at the Marathon.

Don, me and Pat at the Marathon Grill December 3, 2015 Philadelphia, PA