Meana

Meana- Short for "Mean Angry Baby". Well Meana isn't a baby or a toddler any more. She's in Pre-K and was willing to give me a hug when I was leaving. Which is a great improvement over last time.
Unlike her siblings she won't easily crack a smile. She isn't always looking for a hug and if she doesn't know you then **** you. According to her tattle-tale older sister, Meana has said some bad words.
Sitting out on the stoop on a Friday night where Meana lives, I observed the happenings of the subsized housing. People playing rated R and NC-17 music (seriously listen to the lyrics, F bombs a droppin'), cursing, drinking and carrying on while a gang of 4 year olds (led by Meana) run around at the edge of a parking lot. I asked her father if the place was like that normally (being a Friday night I expect activity), yup, this could be Wednesday too.
So it will be interesting to see if Meana finds another gang in her new local and if I think she'll still hold up a liquor store. The new location isn't low crime as I think the house experienced some vandalism. Most people I've expressed concern to about this suppose it was just bored teens or a disgruntled former occupant. Anyway, it is quiet over there with a big yard, so the girls should be able to entertain each other.

Healthcare

Somewhere in my house is a National Insurance Numbercard from when I worked in London in the 90s. I can't remember if I had any payroll taxes taken out by the British government. I was more concerned about Uncle Sam getting his cut, and even though I was making money overseas, Uncle Sam got his f'in cut. Anyway, it was one of several things I had to do to get legal. Register with the local police station, get an NHS card. I didn't use the system, though it was in London I got pneumonia, it was in the US where I got treated. No insurance. I saw the family doctor, he gave me some free meds, paid $50, that's it.
I wish I did save check stubs from that period to see.
With the whole debate about health going on, I do think there should be some reform, of what, is another matter. Being conservative I'm pretty much concerned about another entitlement program. I don't believe that only families making above $250K will be the only ones paying for it. I'm paying for Medicare now. Comes out of the paycheck every pay period. Who knows if the friggin baby boomers will have broken and bankrupted it by the time I age into it. Same thing with social security. They're edging up the retirement age. Good thing I like my job. I'm paying for that too. Damned hippies will have broken it when I get to that age. All the while, I'll be paying for their medical marijuana. Thank goodness for IRAs, TSPs, and 401ks. Face it, we weren't supposed to live that long. We were to drink and smoke ourselves to death. Eat rich foods, get fat, die of a heart attack. Now I get to live longer so I can work longer.
Pass the butter.

That's some Gaydar

On the season premier of Mad Men, Sal and our favorite man-whore, Don Draper, check into a Baltimore hotel. The man-whore, beds some flightly stewardess, not even trying to be good or faithful to his wife, as expected. Don is very disappointing, but interesting. Sal on the other hand goes to his room alone, complains to the desk that his rooms AC is on the fritz and has a bell hop come and fool around with the dial.
I was disappointed in Sal in Season 2, when it showed he got married to a woman. Why he had to drag some poor woman into is deep closet? Deep, deep closet. He could have stayed single like the Belle Joli rep who hit on him, but alas, no. Misery loves company.
Anyway, the bell hop 'fixes' the AC and we see a close up of Sal's money clip as he flips through 10s and 5s and 1s. My thoughts on this scene were A- RUN SAL YOU GONNA GET ROBBED, it's Baltimore! B- Wow that's some old looking money. C- Ah come on, he fixed your AC give the man a 5.... how much is a 5 in 1964 dollars? And then the bell hop gets into his personal space, and plants a big ole kiss on him. Dang, that is some gaydar.
I'm not going to describe what happens afterwards but let's say it gets far enough that Sal has to adjust his clothes when the fire alarm goes off and he's caught by Don, experienced man-whore, as he and the stewardess go down the fire escape.
Later on the flight back poor Sal looks like "OMG, OMG, you're gonna out me and ruin my life, I'm going to have to live in a box and never wear french cuffs again! Waaah" when Don leans over to talk about the London Fog account. The key phrase of that conversation is "limit your exposure." Advice from one man-whore to I guess another.
Is there anythign morally redeeming about the show? So far not really. But I don't watch it for the morals. I watch it for the deep rich flawed and broken characters, the bright shiny and modern 60s of Dick Van Dyke, all the drinking adn interesting paranting styles. 2 bonus points if your 8 year old can mix drinks.

Argh my parents

About 10 years ago my parents divorced after 30 years of marriage. Then about a year ago they started dating each other. They never solved the property issue of daddy's name on the house and the lot. So now daddy is parking his heavy equipment on the lot and sort of reclaiming "part" of the life he walked out on. I say part because I know what or who in the next town over is keeping those two from restarting. And it isn't entirely her fault, so it's hard to be mad at her. So I'm annoyed at him.
Anyway, dad took mom out to dinner and breakfast last week. I have no idea what the hell those two are up to. So when I think of them, I say I'm happy they are hanging out and forming some sort of relationship, but it ends with me exclaiming "argh!"

The big question

Well I asked a question.
I got the answer I expected.
And the answer I was not expecting.