Government General Motors is now offering American auto buyers a seemingly-sweet deal: if you find yourself disliking your new ride within thirty to sixty days, you can return it for the big pile of money that you paid for that piece of crap (minus applicable taxes, naturally).
Of course, it really doesn’t matter how sweet a GM deal seems, because taxpayers with new GM vehicles are, you know, buying the same car twice.
Apparently, thanks to the Department of Homeland (in)Security's recent "ZOMG! Terrorists!" documents, which were released to law-enforcement agencies all over the United States, it's now cool to pull over a guy whose truck sports a Gadsden-flag bumper sticker, tell him that his choice of vehicle decoration is an extremist kind of thing, and hold him while you look into his background.
Gee...the last time I checked, the "Don't tread on me" flag was a symbol of America, much like Old Glory in her various incarnations. The last time I checked, terrorists don't exactly embrace the symbols of the nations they're trying to destroy...I mean, come on - when was the last time you saw Muhammad McBomberson wearing an American-flag tee shirt underneath his bomb vest?
I was also under the impression that all Americans still had our First-amendment rights to freedom of speech and of expression (among the other rights outlined in that particular Amendment).
Yeah...I'll be buying these bumper stickers by the case, just to prove a point.
Oops. I only just now realized that today was Earth Day. Shows how much I care, right? Right.
But you know, it's never the wrong day to do something that's good for the environment, like purchase compact fluorescent light bulbs for your home unnecessarily expose yourself, and landfills, to mercury.
I’m officially pissed off at keyboards in general right now, because it’s occurred to me that I’ve had to replace mine every 1.5 to 2 years. Writing, school, and work keep me typing for a few hours every day, if not longer. Around my house, I’m notorious for wearing out, breaking, and replacing keyboards, because the modern designs are not nearly as good as the ones that companies like IBM used to crank out.
Let’s see: I’ve been doing lots of typing since about age thirteen or fourteen. With only a few breaks (like when I joined the Army and, obviously, left home) I’ve been mostly responsible for several keyboards’ sad, sad deaths.
There were two early-generation Microsoft Ergo Boards that died. There were at least three cheap, ten-dollar keyboards somewhere in there that I flat wore out. I’ve gone through two of my own, ergonomic keyboards, including a fairly-rugged Belkin that actually held up for a little more than two years despite heavy usage.
Silk-screened letters wear off. Spacebars crap out. Whole sections of the keyboards just stop responding. Even when I routinely clean out these things, and even when I’m very careful to keep crap out of them – liquids, food crumbs, that sort of thing – they still wear out and break long before I think they should.
Right now, I’m using a Microsoft ergonomic model that I’ve had for several months. This thing is starting to piss me off, because the keys aren’t responding like they did when this first came out of the box. These stupid tactile-mat, “dome” ‘boards get that “mushy” feel after awhile, because they’re foreign-made, cheap pieces of garbage. The really-sad part is that I’ll pay ten, sixty, seventy dollars for these pieces of crap.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the IBM “M” model keyboard that I got with an old IBM 286 PC when I was in my mid teens. Even back then, all of this was outdated equipment, but the computer got online and ran Microsoft Word just fine, which were my two main concerns. And the keyboard…oh, my goodness, the keyboard! It weighed several pounds because there was a solid-metal base to it, and the removable key caps were etched: IBM didn’t use silk screening, or stickers, to put the characters on the keys. Even when I pulled off the caps and dumped them in a bucket of soap and warm water, the letters stayed because they were etched.
I could take apart the ‘board, too, and give the plastic top a good scrubbing. Putting the thing back together didn’t take long, and I was good to go for another several months, if not longer, without any work on my part.
Oh…and mine had a coiled cable, much like old telephone cords. Sweet? You bet.
So, I’m on the lookout for another one, and hope that I find an old, dusty one for a few bucks. Otherwise, I’ll have to cough up sixty, eighty bucks at this site for a refurbished model. As much as I appreciate the fact that these people have done all the work for me…I’d really rather save my money and clean up the ‘board myself.
By the way: if I ruled the world, I’d have the rare, ergonomic version. Yes, they did exist. They’re very difficult to find, though, which is sad because that would be absolutely perfect as far as I’m concerned. If you just happen to have one lying around, wasting space in your garage or attic or something, I would LOVE to talk with you about possibly acquiring it. Just saying.
I am all for buying music, or at least legally obtaining used CDs. However, I'm not going to complain when an artist- and industry-approved source of legally-free downloads pops up - not unless there's some sort of major problem with the service, anyway.
Lately, I've been grabbing music from SpiralFrog: a service that's completely free because it's ad supported. There are pros and cons to this site, so you'll want to know a little about that before you go sign up, I'm sure.
The Pros:
Legally-free music. SpiralFrog has a huge catalog. They're constantly adding new and old releases alike, giving me plenty of choices. Not every artist is represented, of course. Metallica is, naturally, absent, because they're a bunch of silly men who don't understand that they could be MAKING MONEY off this service. The Beatles aren't represented, either, and you're going to have a bit of a tough time finding independent artists here.
The advertisements are embedded on the Web site. You don't have to interact with them at all unless you choose to do so. They don't pop up (if you use FireFox, anyway - I've never visited this site with another browser, so I could be wrong here), and you don't have to click on them to start your downloads.
The search function is actually pretty decent. It's not too difficult to find what I want, if the site has it available at least.
The Cons:
The audio quality is not as good as what you would get on CD. If you're particular about your music, this might not work for you. But if you really don't care, it's worth it.
You can download only one song at a time. This stinks if you have a super-mega-fast Internet connection. I for one would love to be able to grab three or four songs at a time.
The files are copy protected. This lockdown prevents Microsoft's Zune and Apple's iPod from recognizing, much less playing, your files. This is stupid. This is pointless, because you fulfilled your end of the bargain (having the ads on the Web site while you browse and download) and, therefore, have paid up. This is also easily fixed for less than twenty bucks courtesy of a wonderful little program called TuneBite. It's well worth the investment. Trust me.
You have to log in at least once every thirty days and download a song file. Otherwise, your already-downloaded files expire. You can reclaim them, without downloading again, by logging in later. This isn't a big deal, because I imagine that most of us will show up once a month to download a song or two. However, the licensing agreements that require this are just, well, stupid. This goes back to that whole "dude, I paid up, so to speak" argument.
You do have to download a small piece of software to make SpiralFrog work on your PC. There is not, the last time I checked, a Mac version, meaning that you Apple-kissing, self-righteous snobs will just have to keep using the iTunes store at .99 a pop, plus tax, to satisfy your elitist cravings. Boo-hoo.
Overall, SpiralFrog is well worth the time. Free downloads that the artists and RIAA support? Sweet.
Also: there are other, similar sites out there, that attempt to do the same thing. One site - and I can't remember which one, sorry - embeds ads either before or after the song. So, every time you play the song that you've legally downloaded, you get to listen to an ad. Yeah, that sounds like fun, doesn't it? SpiralFrog's idea is way better.
So, um, you remember how it was back in the day, when Brody and the rest of The Distillers were tearin' up the punk scene and all that good stuff? And, uh, do you still get all excited when your media player of choice is in shuffle mode, and suddenly picks up "Beat Your Heart Out" or, well, pretty much any other track from Coral Fang? Yeah, me too.
If you missed Brody tons and tons, you're going to want to go to Spinnerette's Web site and download their new EP, Ghetto Love. This is Brody's new band, and they've finally produced something that we can buy and enjoy!
It's only five bucks. Really, folks, that's a fair price to pay for four awesome tracks, plus digital copies of the EP's artwork and some videos.
Edit: I just found the EP at SpiralFrog. This is a legal, free download site. I don't know why I didn't check there first, seeing as I've been a SpiralFrog user for a few months or so now. Oh, well. The purchased downloads are higher quality than the SpiralFrog downloads, so I did get something good for my money.
However, this is not "The Distillers, Part 2: The Reunion." Spinnerette has a pop-tinted rock sound that The Distillers never quite achieved, even when they cranked out their last album. Spinnerette shows us a Brody who's still angry, and who can still bash out hardcore lyrics...but she's more controlled, and the backing music isn't quite what you would expect. As long as you're down with an artist growing and changing, without losing any of the talent and uniqueness that made her so awesome, you'll probably dig the new work.
This is good stuff - really good. I thoroughly enjoy the new EP. It's solid, both musically and lyrically. Brody's officially back, and she's as talented and entertaining as ever.
Go. Download. Enjoy.
And if you, for some bizarre reason, do not own any Distillers albums, you can check out eMusic or Amazon to get your fix. Just saying.
Yesterday, while I was out shopping, I saw a poster that convinced me that I am really going to snap soon. It totally won't be my fault, either, because crap like this is going to turn any rational, decent human being into a raving, drooling nutcase.
This picture isn't that great, but you might be able to make out the gist of this "art." Basically, this poster, designed to resemble a cell phone, offers a rather-extensive glossary of text-message abbreviations, misspellings, and other crimes against the English language. As if your average 12-year-old needs to hang a reference guide to English-language butchery on her door or wall, right?
What's next? A thumb exerciser so that the tweens can build up muscle strength for extended sessions with their cell phones? Maybe I shouldn't take this sort of thing so seriously, but we're talking about the deterioration of our communication skills. When high schoolers fail English exams because they use textspeak in their papers (which has really happened in my town), I tend to worry about this nation's future.
Anybody who buys this poster without fully intending to take it to the range for a little rifle practice shall incur my unholy wrath.
One of my brothers had to straddle a big ol' chunk of tire on the highway. He was, at the time, driving the Del Sol. This maneuver cracked the front bumper cover: that happy piece of plastic that, for some bizarre reason, costs a lot more than it's actually worth. (Well, the alternative included being creamed by a semi in the next lane, so he obviously did the right thing.)
The stupid bumper cover, which is cracked down the middle and won't, therefore, stay in place without some repair work, is necessary because it covers a reservoir along with a bunch of wiring. It's not a good idea to drive around without this piece of plastic on the front of the car. Really, it's a bad idea. I mean, unless you want to have to invest a lot of money in repairing or replacing damaged parts.
Local auto-body and marine shops don't want to patch the cracked bumper cover. Okay, that's cool. We have to either buy another one (which will cost about $150) or try to patch this one (which will be less expensive). Either way, I'm annoyed because this is just a piece of flimsy plastic. It's not reinforced, or durable. It's actually a big piece of crap, but it's expensive and vital.
This is why I hate newer vehicles. Back when my parents were my age, vehicles had actual, steel bumpers, and that was it. I used to own a '77 Ford pickup. That sucker's bumpers were a lot tougher than pretty much anything else on the road, from tire parts to smaller vehicles. One of my brothers drives a pickup with a steel bumper. He was rear ended, but was able to pull the bumper back into something approximating its original shape - a few minutes with a crowbar did that.
Yes, I know that cars cost money. I understand that I have to invest cash in their repair and maintenance. But for the love of all that's warm and fuzzy, why can't I have a bumper that's more than a seriously overpriced piece of thin, crappy plastic?
The other night, Youngest Bro and his girlfriend went out for dinner. They got pizza, but didn’t eat the whole thing. The leftovers stayed in the back seat of YB’s car, along with their bread sticks, while they went into Walmart to do whatever it is that you do in Walmart when you’re out on a date.
When YB and The Girlfriend went back to the car afterward, they noticed that one of the car’s doors was slightly ajar. Further investigation revealed that the door was open because a pizza thief had opened it, swiped all of their leftover food, and left – all before they returned to the car.
The good news is that The Girlfriend’s purse was not on the floorboard, where she normally leaves the thing when she goes into a store. That night, for whatever reason, she decided to secure the purse in YB’s trunk before going into Walmart. Good for her.
The family and I agree that, if the person who swiped the pizza and breadsticks was hungry, then it’s a sad situation indeed. If that’s the case, our prayer is that the individual is able to find a job, or whatever he or she needs to obtain food without lurking in parking lots, hoping to get lucky. We’ve been hungry before, and don’t want to see other people in the same situation.
On the other hand: if the theft was one of those random, jerky things that delinquents do when they’re bored, we all hope that the sack of crap gets diarrhea for a week straight, with a burning bunghole that doesn’t quit.
The next day, my oldest brother called home to tell us that, the night before, he had stopped at Walmart – the one in his entirely-different part of the state – because he saw a car catch on fire in the lot. He jumped out of his truck to be sure that everyone in the vehicle had gotten out okay. In the middle of doing this random, decent thing, OB heard the distinct sound of his pickup leaving the location.
He turned around to see it being driven off. Because he, not thinking about anything but the people in the vehicle that had just caught on fire, didn’t turn off the engine and take the keys with him. I wouldn’t have either, I don’t think.
The good news is that the police found the truck a few miles away, unharmed. The bad news is that they couldn’t find the keys. OB’s keychain had his truck and apartment keys on it. His insurance card, in the glove box, has his address printed right on the front. So, he’s having both his truck and apartment locks changed.
This is just weird, though, folks, because both of these things happened on the same night, in different parts of Texas, but to the same family. Weirdness. Is it a full moon? Halloween? Or just another one of those weird spells that happen to some people?
For last semester's creative-nonfiction class, I concluded the term with an essay about my search for chewing gum that does not suck. It seems that, in the several-year period in which I did not even glance at chewing gum (having a mouthful of busted teeth will make this choice rather appealing, but heartbreaking at the same time if you love gum like I do), the chewing-gum market exploded. Now, there are more brands and flavors on the market than there are lies in a politician's speech. Amazing.
Chewing gum is frickin' disgusting because manufacturers have, for the most part, begun adding phenylalanine as a flavoring. Oh, yes. We have yet another sugar substitute in our food. This one tastes slightly bitter. Does real sugar taste that way to you? No? Me neither. So how is this a good substitute? Oh, right. Phenylalanine enables the manufacturers to boast of their brands' decreased calories, which is obviously more important than, you know, taste. God knows that I'd rather munch a dog turd than ingest a whopping fifteen, twenty calories from a stick of delicious, old-school Big Red.
If my formerly-favorite chewing-gum makers go back to pouring obscene amounts of sugar - pure, blessed, sugar! - into the vats, I'll buy their wares by the gross.
When you're running to the nearest clothing shop to express your individualism by racking up credit-card debt purchasing the same crap everyone else in your part of the world is buying, try not to dress like a complete idiot. If you're shopping without assistance, it is assumed that you are mentally and physically capable of not looking like a tool. However, this theory of mine - that those who can shop, can do it well - is frequently proven wrong. Because, ultimately, we humans are merely trained monkeys were fashion goes. Monkey see L.L. Cool J rolling up one jeans leg...monkey roll up one jeans leg.
The nice thing is that, because these shoppers aren't mentally handicapped or otherwise in need of special treatment, I'm free to openly, viciously mock them. When you're free to choose your own clothing and accessories, you're free to be the subject of my ridicule.
Hence, this photo essay.
However, some designers noticed that some people are too frickin' lazy to spend a couple of moments adjusting their brims. This led to the creation of baseball caps that are, by design, flat brimmed. Gangsta rappers and emo kids are particularly taken by these monstrosities, which is no surprise considering that neither group is known for hard work - or even light work, like spending five minutes making your new cap presentable.
Final thought: If your top's color is comparable to anything that you've ever found in a baby's diaper...you're doing it wrong.
Health care is expensive, at least here in the States. We have to go see the doctor for treatment because, without the physician, we can't get the prescriptions that heal us, or even save our lives in some cases. We have to pay for insurance coverage, if we can afford that. But if we're uninsured, we have to pay for office visits, which can cost a good bundle of cash. Having to see the doctor just to get a prescription refill is a big problem.
The solution: stop prescribing drugs. Just make all of that stuff over-the-counter medication. When I'm low on migraine medicine, I should be able to go to the pharmacy and cough up a big pile of cash for the Axxert, or Imitrex, or whatever it is that I'm on at the time. The same thing goes for Hydrocodone-laced cough syrup, antibiotics, and narcotic painkillers like Vicodin. Yes, I do advocate keeping that stuff locked up. We lock up sinus medication, after all, to keep those icky meth addicts away from it. I'd definitely recommend keeping the Vicodin and other good stuff secured - wouldn't want somebody's untrained four-year-old grabbing it. And the pharmacy definitely wouldn't want someone stealing the $9-per-pill migraine meds. I wouldn't object, either, to carding people. If you aren't a legal adult yet, no Hydrocodone for you. Neener neener.
Obviously, people object to this idea. Here are some of the arguments that I've heard.
Drug seekers will have an easier time getting their narcotics. So what? They have the same right to their vices as I do to mine. If they choose to destroy their gizzards with pills, then that's up to them. It's not the nanny state's job to make sure that they have a harder time obtaining their drugs, now is it? Of course not. It shouldn't be, anyway. Freedom means that you have access to not only choices that are good for you, but also to the ones that might foul you up.
However, I wouldn't gripe one bit if health-insurance providers refused to cover people who were on narcotics. Private companies can have any customers they choose, and drop them, too. My company charges a higher rate to insure people who have "risky" hobbies, for example, like skydiving. Makes sense, as those customers are more likely to, say, break their bones. Put narcotic-drug use under the "risky" category. The routine whiz quiz during the yearly physical will turn up the narcotics, and the insurance companies can do whatever their policies dictate in these situations. Yay. Freedom.
People shouldn't be able to buy drugs over the counter. See the first argument, and my response. We're Americans, so we ought to be free to make our own choices.
Doctors are better informed than patients. Though this is sometimes the case, we live in the information age. My medication always includes patient literature, too, which I do read. If I choose not to ask questions, read the literature, utilize WebMD's wealth of free knowledge, then that's my choice and my problem. I'm the one who has to live with the consequences of taking this medicine, so it's on me to be sure that I know what's going on. The information is very easy to find - the sheet's in the same bag as the pills, so I'd have to be extraordinarily stupid to miss it. It's not like I'm suggesting that We the People take wild guesses about our health.
We need physicians. Yes. Yes we do. A doctor can tell us what's wrong. He or she can also recommend treatment options. Then, we ask questions and get answers. The doctors are still the experts - they're the ones who figure out what's wrong with us, after all. They certainly aren't going to go out of business if they no longer prescribe anything. We still need them to diagnose us...to answer our questions...to save our lives if we're in bad shape. However: when we know that we need X to take care of Y, we don't need the doctor. If we're having problems, then yes, we should still have access to the friendly physician. But when everything's just fine, why should we have to cough up office fees, on top of prescription costs, just to get a refill? That's stupid.
This all comes down to individual freedom, folks. You and I ought to have that freedom where our health is concerned. I shouldn't have to go see the doctor every few months for my migraines. She and I both know good and well what's going on with my head. Before I even went to see her, I already knew that I was having migraines. I'd done the research, found answers to my questions, and started dealing with the head bashers on my own as best I could.
By the time I realized that I really needed a prescription to deal with the skull thumpers, I'd already eliminated triggers (which is what she recommended that I do), and discovered that the over-the-counter medication does not work all that well (another thing that she recommended before I told her that I'd already done it). She didn't have any new information for me at all. None whatsoever. Everything that she suggested, I'd already learned about and done. Everything. She was good for writing the prescription, and that's it. In the future, when I need more refills, I have to go see her. That costs money. She's not going to do anything for me that I haven't done for myself. I appreciate her expertise, but it's not necessary as long as I have access to information.
We the People, though, are so used to regulations and restrictions that the idea of not seeing a physician for our medicine is...ridiculous. This is sad, folks, because we used to be a nation full of independent, thinking people: individuals who took it upon themselves to be responsible, and make their own decisions. Now, we rely on the nanny state to tell us what's okay and what's not - and we're shocked when somebody says that things shouldn't be this way.
America, as a whole, is a very-wasteful society.
Given the choice between a disposable, plastic spork and toting metal cutlery around for our lunch breaks, most of us will reach for the spork. Then, when lunch is over, we’ll toss that into the trash can without a second thought. When we hit the drive-thru, and the employee crams a dozen or so napkins into the bag, we throw away the extras – even though we could put aside the clean, unused napkins for future use. (Because, as we all know, the drive-thru employees of America sometimes forget to give us napkins at all.)
Restaurants continue serving massive portions – enough to feed me two whole meals, actually – and we keep throwing away the food instead of asking for a to-go box. I don’t understand this at all. The to-go box does not cost me anything, but throwing away half a plate of food does. Why not take the leftovers home and re-heat them later? I’ve taken leftovers to work before. I’ve eaten them for lunch or dinner the next day. A little time in the microwave or oven and the food is every bit as good as it was when it was first served to me. Better, in some cases, actually.
Better yet: If we aren’t going to finish the adult portion, or take the leftovers home, why don’t we ask the server if the cook/chef can either a) give us a half portion, or b) prepare us something from the kid’s menu?
Even when aluminum soda/beer/energy drink cans were worth more than sixty cents a pound where I live, I still saw plenty of people throwing them into the trash – or, worse, out their car windows. There are plenty of scrap-metal yards here. Turning in a few bags full of cans takes just a couple of minutes. You walk out the door with cash. Why wouldn’t you toss your empties into a box in the back yard or something, then turn them in for the folding money? I’ve walked out with fifteen dollars before. That’s a lot of money for doing almost nothing. And when times were really tough, I salvaged cans from the roadsides around my house. That was a bit of effort on my part, yes, but the cans were cash, right there in front of me, free to take.
And yes, I do know that some people have serious space constraints. But I managed to save my soda cans even when I lived in a 400-square-foot apartment. The trick is to rinse them so that they don’t attract bugs. You can also sprinkle boric acid in the bottom of your collection container (I used a plastic trash can) to further discourage pests.
I’m also surprised at the overwhelming amount of repairable, or even perfectly-good, stuff that we just throw away. If you live in a university town or city, go look at the Dumpsters on campus at the end of the semester. You’re going to see all sorts of good things sitting around. Students throw away everything from perfectly-good novels from their English classes to furniture. Seriously: some of us would rather throw out our almost-new end tables and chairs than haul that stuff back home or try to sell it before moving out.
The same goes for stuff that can be repaired. I’ve acquired perfectly-good electronics from people several times in my life. These things were broken, but not beyond the point of repair. In one case, all that I had to do was change the batteries in the portable CD player and it worked just fine. One of my brothers got a big honkin’ TV for free because the volume control didn’t work. He bought a ten-dollar universal remote and configured it for that set. The TV works perfectly.
These aren’t difficult repairs, and they don’t require much thinking to figure out. I completely understand getting rid of something that’s beyond your ability to repair. And I understand dumping something when the repair would cost more than simply buying a replacement. (If you buy super-cheap pieces of crap, you can expect this to happen quite often. If you see a Durabrand product, run away. They’re the worst electronics and appliances on Earth.)
But changing batteries? Trying a universal remote before giving up on the thing? Both simple, dirt-cheap fixes. The people who gave us this stuff were on their way to the Dumpsters. They were just going to trash these perfectly-good electronics. Landfills are packed full of things that could be easily repaired.
These same landfills are also full of things that aren’t broken at all. A surprising number of Americans simply throw away their old stuff when they acquire something newer and better. People trash perfectly-good clothes, PC monitors, TV sets, you name it. This is easier, it seems, than posting them on Craigslist, dropping them off at a charity shop, or even simply putting them by the curb with a “free” sign scribbled on cardboard.
I am not, by the way, a tree hugger, or even close to it. I’m wasteful, just like many other people here are. You will catch me trashing plastic soda bottles, for example, because there’s no plastics-recycling facility within driving distance of my house – and I can find creative uses for only so many of the things.
To be honest, my big angle here is the money that I save by not being wasteful. Most of us are having budget problems right now, what with the economy being so messed up and all that. Saving money – even if it’s only a few bucks here and there – can make a difference. Why not give it a try, especially when the small changes you make requires almost no effort?
Today, we have a graph-by-graph snarkfest, courtesy of a group of parents who don't understand what "No" means - much less how to teach this concept to their offspring.
Meltdown fallout: some parents rethink toy-buying
By DAVID CRARY, AP National Writer
NEW YORK – In a season that inspires earnest letters about toys, one notable batch is being sent not by kids to Santa's workshop but by parents to the executive suites of real-world toy makers.
The letter-writing initiative was launched by the Boston-based Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, which says roughly 1,400 of its members and supporters have contacted 24 leading toy companies and retailers to express concern about ads aimed at kids.
"Unfortunately, I will not be able to purchase many of the toys that my sons have asked for; we simply don't have the money," wrote Todd Helmkamp of Hudson, Ind. "By bombarding them with advertisements ... you are placing parents like me in the unenviable position of having to tell our children that we can't afford the toys you promote."
The Toy Industry Association has responded with a firm defense of current marketing practices, asserting that children "are a vital part of the gift selection process."
"If children are not aware of what is new and available, how will they be able to tell their families what their preferences are?" an industry statement said. "While there is certainly greater economic disturbance going on now, families have always faced different levels of economic well-being and have managed to tailor their spending to their means."
In recent conference calls with investors, toy company executives said they expect to suffer some holiday-season impact from the economic crisis, yet suggested their industry would be more resilient than many other sectors. The toy industry is commonly viewed as recession-resistant, due largely to the parent-child dynamic.
"Parents have trouble saying no," said Allison Pugh, a University of Virginia sociology professor. She says parents often buy toys to avoid guilt and ensure their children feel in sync with school classmates.
"Even under circumstances of dire financial straits, that's the last thing parents give up," said Pugh. "They'll contain their own buying for themselves before they'll make their child feel different at school."
Amanda Almodovar says she encounters such families in her work as an elementary school social worker in Alamance County, N.C., where homelessness and unemployment are rising.
"I had one parent who said she'd prostitute herself to get what her child wants," Almodovar said. "It's heartbreaking. They feel inadequate as parents.
"I try to tell them, worry about your home, your heating bill — but they're the ones who have to look into children's faces, the children saying 'I want this, I want that.'"
Even in some households not in fiscal crisis, there's a sense that this holiday season is different.
John Schenkenfelder, a financial adviser and father of three in Louisville, Ky., wrote a blog entry this month urging families to scale down their gift-giving and spend more time playing together.
"This has been bugging me for years, even when times were great," Schenkenfelder said in a telephone interview. "Maybe people will get it this year — they're so unprepared for this debacle. They're shell-shocked."
In Columbus, Ohio, Erin Beth Dower Charron has been trying to brace her 4-year-old son and 8-year-old daughter for more subdued gift-getting this year as the family begins financial belt-tightening.
"My 8-year-old is still holding out hope that Santa will get her that one special gift, but understanding this year may be different," Dower Charron said. "My son doesn't understand. Everything he sees, he wants."
Toy ads on kids' TV shows make the process harder, she said. "The onslaught seems to be more intense this year."
Dower Charron was among the hundreds of parents who took up the suggestion to write to toy companies.
"Help me understand why your toy is the better one for my child, and why it should be one of the few I can afford," she wrote. "Don't leave that up to my children."
The director of the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, psychologist Susan Linn, said she and her colleagues don't expect toy companies to stop advertising — rather, they want the ads directed at parents.
"It's cruel to dangle irresistible ads for toys and electronics in front of kids — encouraging them to nag for gifts that their parents can't afford," she said. "It's just not fair."
The big toy makers aren't likely to redirect their ads for one fundamental reason, according to Richard Gottlieb, a New York-based consultant to the industry.
"Toy companies advertise to children because it works, to be brutally honest," Gottlieb said in an interview.
Gottlieb also contends that it's good for children to encounter toy ads — even in cases where products later turn out to be disappointments.
"It teaches, for very low stakes, how to navigate in our consumer culture," he said.
"They are going to have to spend the rest of their lives listening to every kind of marketing approach, and childhood is where they will learn to cope with it."
As for the economic pressure on parents, Gottlieb sounds a fatalistic note.
"Believe me, there are families with much bigger issues on their plates right now then worrying about whether their child will be unhappy because they did not get a particular toy," Gottlieb wrote in his "Out of the Toy Box" blog. "Delivering disappointment goes with the job of parenting."
Dear New York Wal-Mart Shoppers:
Now you've done it. You murdered a Wal-Mart employee on Black Friday. Trampled him to death because he made the mistake of not calling in sick on the most horrible retail day of the entire year.
Jdimytai Damour, a 34-year-old man, is dead now because you oozing sores couldn't stand the thought of somebody else beating you to your precious merchandise. You showed up at Wally World on Thanksgiving Day - a day before the sales - to be absolutely certain that you, the most important people on the planet, didn't miss out on the goods. Because, as we all know, everything is all about you, of course.
That stampede isn't even the worst part. You're guilty of that, but also of not giving a rat's furry butt that you had just killed somebody. When Wal-Mart announced that they were going to close the store - because, you know, one of their own was dead, thanks to you animals, meaning that the store was a crime scene because of you - you protested. How dare they close when you were in line since Thursday? Just because somebody is no longer living doesn't mean that you should have to go home without your precious merchandise, right? You entitled, selfish boils on society's backside. You life-stealing, oxygen-thieving wastes of matter. You subhuman savages.
Die in a fire. All of you. You murdered an innocent person - a man who was just doing his job - for consumer goods. You didn't even have a decent reason to kill him, you selfish pieces of garbage. Wal-Mart wasn't selling kidneys for transplant, or the last bottle of oxygen, or the last plate of food in existence. Your "reason," as written in the news article:
Items on sale at the store included a Samsung 50-inch Plasma HDTV for $798, a Bissel Compact Upright Vacuum for $28, a Samsung 10.2 megapixel digital camera for $69 and DVDs such as "The Incredible Hulk" for $9.
I did not leave the house today. It's Black Friday: you're insane if you think that I'm going to leave this warm, safe house and fruitlessly attempt to shove through packed crowds in search of sale-priced crap that I don't really want or need.
Instead, I slept in and leisurely strolled into the kitchen at around eleven in the morning. We were getting some rain, and it was a bit chilly outside, so I was immediately glad that I'd maintained my tradition of Staying the Hell Home on the Worst Shopping Day of the Year.
One of my brothers, however, was conned into taking his girlfriend out to hit the "door buster" sales. Here is his report:
He awoke at three-thirty this morning, dragged himself out of bed, and drove to his girlfriend's house. After picking her up, they made it to the first store at the unholy time of four-thirty a.m. Our sister, who works at this store, was not scheduled to work until the afternoon, so she was just as cozy and warm in her bed as I was in mine when Bro. ventured forth into public.
Bro. found a good parking spot, about halfway between the store and the road. The closer spots were already crammed full of early-bird shoppers, all too insane to just stay at home and be comfortable like I was.
When Bro. and Girlfriend went into the store, they could not find a shopping cart. They saw several people pushing one empty cart and pulling another one behind them. They were gearing up for five a.m., when the sales started.
The store was, of course, packed. The couple could barely squeeze through to the small appliances, or to the picture frames, or to anything else that was on sale. This happened despite the fact that the store, in preparation for the crazy-low prices on these specific items, had dumped pallets crammed full of these things in the middle of the larger aisles. Despite all this extra space, and ease of access, the couple could not see around the crowd. They were swiftly enveloped, and stuck there, navigating as one homogenous lump of flesh and hair.
Other shoppers, who were already waiting for the sale to begin, circled the pallets with their carts. If you were late to the party, you could not work your way in to grab the sale items. The earliest of the early birds had created walls of carts, with their own bodies between the carts and the goods. Heaven forbid somebody else also get the chance to grab those $1.50 bath towels that mean oh so very much.
At precisely five a.m., the store's intercom announced the time. At that moment, Bro. said, "Everyone started grabbing boxes from the pallets and throwing them into their carts. All at once." He said that the sound nearly deafened him.
However, Bro. and his girlfriend were able to acquire the few items that were on their respective lists. Bro. came home with a nice stand mixer for our mother, who is prone to breaking lesser mixers (she makes lots of cookies, bread, cinnamon rolls, et cetera - the "regular" mixers die under the strain). The girlfriend got her...whatever she wanted.
They were in the store, though, for a total of two hours, because nothing happened quickly. Standing in line to check out took forever. Trying to work their way to the checkout took forever. Navigating the crowd of shoppers on the way back to the vehicle took forever.
When the happy couple left the store, people were parking in the side street between the store and the neighboring strip mall. The actual lot was completely packed, and not showing any signs of emptying.
That's why I shop online, or well before Christmas, folks. I despise crowds, and I loathe the elbowing, shoving and "me first" attitude that Black Friday sales foster. That, and I'm too polite to barge through a line of elderly people to get a friggin' bath towel.
I drive a Honda. This car is a '94 model - not a hybrid, and not a new car by most peoples' standards. The rice rocket has nearly 200,000 miles on the engine and has yet to give me major problems. My transmission is in good condition, too.
This car is fun to drive, yes. But more importantly: when I drive conservatively (read: 99.999 percent of the time), I average 42-44 miles per gallon. That's both highway and city driving.
This car cost less than three thousand dollars.
All of these add up to my decision to support foreign auto makers. Not all are fantastic (*Cough*KIA!*Cough*), but Honda's near the top of the list as far as their smaller, fuel-efficient vehicles are concerned. Toyota tends to do well in my experience as well. I would happily get a Camry if I ever want or need a four-door.
When I want a land yacht that averages 20-something MPG, I'll buy an American-made sedan.
When I want to pay way too much for a basic vehicle that will fall apart before my odometer hits 150,000 miles, I'll buy American.
In the meantime, I'm sticking with Honda. This is just good financial sense, folks. I'm going to buy the best that I can afford and, right now, the foreign makers are fulfilling that desire.
Now: If Chrysler, GM and Ford reevaluate what they're doing and come up with something that's equal to, or better than, the foreign competitions' offerings? I'll give them my business. They're going to have to work hard, and change a few things, but they could very well make that happen. I'll be happy to buy American if they pull that off.
Mom: Sarah's birthday is this weekend.
Dad: Uh-huh.
Mom: What are you getting her?
Dad: I dunno. Sarah, would you like ammo?
Me: Yes. Yes I would.
Mom: How about renewing her NRA membership?
Dad: Oh, I can do that.
Me: Sweet.
You know that you have an awesome family when they insist on gun-related gifts.
Now, to convince them to buy me an AR-15 when I finally finish college...
On Wednesday, in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, the wind was fairly stiff. That afternoon, between classes, I headed to a shopping complex to pick up a few much-needed items, including a case of canned cat food.
When I went into the store, I was able to subtly press my elbow against my side. This kept my shirttail down, where it belonged, concealing my carry gun. Though unintentional failure to conceal is not a crime here in Texas, I still hate the idea of flashing the entire parking lot. Concealed carry doesn't work very well if anybody who looks my way can clearly see the black holster, not to mention the blued .45, against the light-gray undershirt that I was wearing at the time.
However, I exited the store with a case of food. Though the cans were still shrink-wrapped in the cardboard, the sucker shifted on me. The middle of the cardboard also bowed downward from the weight of the cans, which required me to support the bottom with one hand and grip the edge with the other.
I didn't have a free hand to stop my cap from blowing off and tumbling across the parking lot. I wasn't about to leave my hat behind, so I trotted after it, the cat food still in my hands because I was in the middle of the crosswalk. (Simply putting it down there seemed like a bad idea, what with traffic and all.)
When I bent over to retrieve the hat, my cell phone fell out of my shirt pocket. Sigh.
Then, another gust of wind rolled through just as I finished collecting all of my crap and stood back up, the case of food back in my hands.
My shirttail blew up to the back of my neck. For an agonizing, embarrassing moment, I was flashing the entire parking lot. Double sigh.
Not having much of a choice, I range-walked across the lot and quickly got the cat food into the car. At some point during that quick trip, my shirttail fell back into place and covered up everything that should have been covered.
Stupid wind.
But at least Officer Friendly didn't show up in response to a "WOMAN WITH A GUN! OH MY GOD! NO" call. As far as I know, at least.
I could not give less of a rat's furry butt about the average meat-bearing animal's plight. As far as I'm concerned, the cows and turkeys, chickens and pigs, are here for me to consume as fast as I possibly can. The faster a nice, fattened pig makes its way to my plate, especially in the form of sausage, the happier I am. I feel the same way about all the wonderful dairy products we get from cows. No cheddar cheese and no milk make Sarah go crazy.
However: reality has grabbed me by the ears and cruelly slammed my face into the local grocery store's dairy cooler. Repeatedly. With prejudice. Not even two weeks ago, a bag of shredded cheddar cheese was seven bucks and change. Last weekend, we needed to buy more of this delightful dairy product.
How much did we pay last weekend for the same bag of cheese? Eight dollars? No. Eight dollars and fifty cents? No. Not even close.
We coughed up ten dollars and change for this bag of cheese.
Me: If meat and dairy prices keep rising, we'll have to go vegan.
Mom: The hell we will.
To be honest, I would rather hack off my own toes and eat them than give up meat and dairy. Enchiladas do not exist without cheese. Bagels without cream cheese are horrible. And you cannot have a proper breakfast without something that either was an animal - or came out of an animal.
By the way: if I ate my own toes, would I gain or lose weight? I'm thinking that I would lose weight because I would burn calories processing my not-so-tasty self. I would also eliminate part of said toes afterward, which would drop my weight a little more. Yes, this IS the sort of thing that I ponder in the early hours, when I'm supposed to be asleep.
Anyway.
If meat and dairy prices don't stabilize, I'll have to get in line with the vegans and start chanting.
Meat is murder - on my wallet!
Eggs are murder - on my Visa!
Somehow, I don't think that the vegans would be amused.
