Frugality is just a game for me…a game which I really enjoy playing. Dumb game, you say. Compared to what? Throwing a ball through a hoop? Using a stick to hit a ball into a can? Whacking a ball with a stick and racing around a diamond? Having a donnybrook free-for-all brawl trying to advance a ball passed a line in the dirt (sometimes mud)? Throwing various objects (javelins, discuses, hammers, shot puts) into the air? I see less as more… and I don’t see that as dumber than other sports.
Besides maybe I’m not the crazy austere nut…maybe the more-is-better people who use plastic money to buy plastic goods are the brainwashed crazies. Could be. Anyway I’ve had some experience enjoying living on less. I grew up in a family of 12 kids, so there weren’t excessive toys… but who needs a ball to hit when you have sisters. JUST KIDDING SIS!
In high school I went off to a boarding school run by Benedictine brothers and monk’s (probably a plot by my sisters to be rid of me). I was very impressed by the Benedictines’ vow of poverty, simple life styles and self sufficiency. A brother’s wardrobe consisted of two cowled habits…he wore one while the other was in the wash. As for self sufficiency, they even had a power plant to produce their own electricity and steam heat. Our electric hallway clocks ran a little differently than the rest of the world but we only noticed it when we watched national news on the TV in our recreation room.
The Benedictines ran their own farm. The hogs fed us (we ate a lot of pork link sausage for breakfast) and we fed the hogs (we were warned never to put tooth picks in the after meal table scraps because it might get caught in a pigs digestive system). The monks also baked all our dark whole grain bread and the bakery gave the whole abbey a good aroma.
From the seminary, I went to the military…again another Spartan lifestyle. All my military clothing: the dress greens, the fatigues, the kakis, headgear, shoes and boots along with winter over coat and utility jacket fit into one duffel bag. When we bivouacked, we carried what we needed on our backs.
When I got to Southeast Asia, I saw how simply and happily 3rd world people lived in houses built on stilts with metal roofs. I drank homemade rice wine from a big wooden barrel on the porch of a paddy farmer who raised eight daughters on five acres. They all seemed happy, well fed, and well clothed in Thai silk sarongs.
Eventually I rented my own hut on stilts (reminds me of my brother’s river camp, actually) for $10 a month. It was my week-end escape so that I could pretend for a bit that I wasn’t in the military and taking orders. With a battery powered radio blasting out Thai music, a mosquito net covered hammock swinging on the roofed-over veranda, a bottle of muscatel, and a papaya tree growing up beside the house, it felt more like paradise than poverty.
So FYI, if you should see me now enjoying my retirement in my country bungalow on four acres…gardening, fishing and hammocking…don’t think that I am just being lazy when I am actually in training…to bring home the gold for team USA when being tight finally does become an Olympic sport. ---Honey, could you please pour me another jigger of muscatel?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Family Happenings
The little girl got off the school bus and came into the house.
“Anything interesting happen at school today,” her father asked.
“During recess, some boys came onto the girls’ side of the playground and the girls had to drive them back with purse karate” she replied.
“Wow…purse karate!” the father said, “That must be really hard to learn!”
“Oh no… it’s easy” the daughter replied matter-of-factly, “Just find a real BIG rock and put it in your purse.”
Guess the lads won’t be back any time soon.
The nursing home activities attendant was preparing the room for the evening activities. One elderly lady resident had come in early and was obviously waiting to be assigned some task to keep herself busy. Since the evening activities involved games using dice, the activities attendant said, “Lucy, why don’t you hand everyone a pair of dice when they come in” and handed the woman a box of cubes.
The lady eagerly took the box and stationed herself at the doorway. As each resident wheel chaired themselves in, they were greeted with an enthusiastic:
“Do you want TWO die? Do you want TWO die?”
After 60, marriage can get really funny. My wife and I had just finished up a meal and as we faced one another across the kitchen table, she showed me a JC Penny, 80% OFF sales flyer and asked, “Would you mind going over to the mall after your doctor appointment tomorrow?”
(Anyone who knows me knows how much I like to shop…NOT!)
This was not a request…this was a test. The real question was not would I go shopping … the real question was would I go easy… or would I go hard (and throw one of my infamous conniption fits).
There was no good answer. If I said “no, I don’t mind” then I would be a bald-faced liar and coward-wimp. If I replied “yes, I do mind” then I would suffer the slow agony of spousal pay-back.
Faced with this dilemma, I decided to remain silent and go straight to my trump suit…SARCASM! I immediately dropped to the table with a feigned coronary and then rolled off onto the floor. On my back, I extended my arms and legs into the air and did a long half-minute of my best dying cockroach routine.
Like I said, after 60, marriage can get really funny…and yes, next day, this little cockroach did go to market!
“Anything interesting happen at school today,” her father asked.
“During recess, some boys came onto the girls’ side of the playground and the girls had to drive them back with purse karate” she replied.
“Wow…purse karate!” the father said, “That must be really hard to learn!”
“Oh no… it’s easy” the daughter replied matter-of-factly, “Just find a real BIG rock and put it in your purse.”
Guess the lads won’t be back any time soon.
The nursing home activities attendant was preparing the room for the evening activities. One elderly lady resident had come in early and was obviously waiting to be assigned some task to keep herself busy. Since the evening activities involved games using dice, the activities attendant said, “Lucy, why don’t you hand everyone a pair of dice when they come in” and handed the woman a box of cubes.
The lady eagerly took the box and stationed herself at the doorway. As each resident wheel chaired themselves in, they were greeted with an enthusiastic:
“Do you want TWO die? Do you want TWO die?”
After 60, marriage can get really funny. My wife and I had just finished up a meal and as we faced one another across the kitchen table, she showed me a JC Penny, 80% OFF sales flyer and asked, “Would you mind going over to the mall after your doctor appointment tomorrow?”
(Anyone who knows me knows how much I like to shop…NOT!)
This was not a request…this was a test. The real question was not would I go shopping … the real question was would I go easy… or would I go hard (and throw one of my infamous conniption fits).
There was no good answer. If I said “no, I don’t mind” then I would be a bald-faced liar and coward-wimp. If I replied “yes, I do mind” then I would suffer the slow agony of spousal pay-back.
Faced with this dilemma, I decided to remain silent and go straight to my trump suit…SARCASM! I immediately dropped to the table with a feigned coronary and then rolled off onto the floor. On my back, I extended my arms and legs into the air and did a long half-minute of my best dying cockroach routine.
Like I said, after 60, marriage can get really funny…and yes, next day, this little cockroach did go to market!
Republicans, Democrats, Independents
Republicans tend to view the economy and society in Social Darwinist terms – survival of the fittest producers and sellers who satisfy the consumer’s and society’s wants. The fittest producers are those who: (a) make the products that consumers wish produced—those who produce unwanted goods and services go out of business, and (b) those who produce wanted products at the lowest price – if your competitors produce the same product cheaper, then again you go out of business. Thus consumers and society are provided with their needs at the lowest price. Prices and money and individuals pursuing their own self interest act as an “invisible hand” directing the whole market process without any need for government involvement. Big government is seen as a superfluous and even parasitic extra layer of society. The market has a much more rapid response to ever changing consumer needs than bulky, grid-locked bureaucracies.
Problem is, does the market respond to changing human needs or does it manipulate human desires and create artificial demand by a constant barrage of wasteful advertisement? Problem is, there are externalities – costs (and sometimes benefits) external to and therefore not born by either the buyer or producer, which are pushed onto the rest of society. If a business avoids clean-up costs by polluting, (just throw it in the river, Bob), then they can appear to produce more efficiently in Social Darwinist terms because they sell at a lower price. Externality costs are about impossible to calculate. For example, what are the real dollar costs of green house gasses and global warming? Nobody really knows. Producers tend to use common-owned resources such as the oceans, rivers and the atmosphere as free inputs into the productive process in order to appear efficient with low priced products as they actually rob society. Finally, the self-interests of CEOs and the various levels of management are not the same as the business’ best interest. Management has been milking corporations since the days of the robber barons to the present. “If I make several million this year, then the shareholders, labor and consumers be damned.” Take the money and run. So from the Democrat point of view, the cost of big government is worth it just to keep the market honest.
Problem is that government is not always efficient, honest or nimble. Re-election contributions and negative campaign ads seem more important than correcting market failings and social inequalities. I think everyone knows the problems of big government without any more listing here.
What I espouse is a subculture of independents, who are not at the mercy of the market (especially bankers and financial institutions) or the whims of self-serving politicians. These independents are not living in precarious houses-of-cards because of mountains of debt. Most of their borrowing is from their own accumulated savings. They live modestly and frugally. Their basic needs are met, but they don’t buy into the consumerism hype. They view their modest homes as their castles and their land and property as their separate, sovereign nations. They grow in their gardens what is overpriced in the market. They are not totally self-sufficient, but feel they have the know-how to be, should the need arise to go to a plan B due to either a market meltdown or failure of grid-locked governance. They feel independent of both market and government.
Subcultures can exist and even flourish within the larger consumerist society. The Amish are an example of this. Sub-cultures can even be somewhat parasitic upon greater society. What I suggest is a subculture of frugality, independent of, but thriving within the greater American society. And in my sovereign kingdom, in front of my castle, I want one really big soapbox.
Problem is, does the market respond to changing human needs or does it manipulate human desires and create artificial demand by a constant barrage of wasteful advertisement? Problem is, there are externalities – costs (and sometimes benefits) external to and therefore not born by either the buyer or producer, which are pushed onto the rest of society. If a business avoids clean-up costs by polluting, (just throw it in the river, Bob), then they can appear to produce more efficiently in Social Darwinist terms because they sell at a lower price. Externality costs are about impossible to calculate. For example, what are the real dollar costs of green house gasses and global warming? Nobody really knows. Producers tend to use common-owned resources such as the oceans, rivers and the atmosphere as free inputs into the productive process in order to appear efficient with low priced products as they actually rob society. Finally, the self-interests of CEOs and the various levels of management are not the same as the business’ best interest. Management has been milking corporations since the days of the robber barons to the present. “If I make several million this year, then the shareholders, labor and consumers be damned.” Take the money and run. So from the Democrat point of view, the cost of big government is worth it just to keep the market honest.
Problem is that government is not always efficient, honest or nimble. Re-election contributions and negative campaign ads seem more important than correcting market failings and social inequalities. I think everyone knows the problems of big government without any more listing here.
What I espouse is a subculture of independents, who are not at the mercy of the market (especially bankers and financial institutions) or the whims of self-serving politicians. These independents are not living in precarious houses-of-cards because of mountains of debt. Most of their borrowing is from their own accumulated savings. They live modestly and frugally. Their basic needs are met, but they don’t buy into the consumerism hype. They view their modest homes as their castles and their land and property as their separate, sovereign nations. They grow in their gardens what is overpriced in the market. They are not totally self-sufficient, but feel they have the know-how to be, should the need arise to go to a plan B due to either a market meltdown or failure of grid-locked governance. They feel independent of both market and government.
Subcultures can exist and even flourish within the larger consumerist society. The Amish are an example of this. Sub-cultures can even be somewhat parasitic upon greater society. What I suggest is a subculture of frugality, independent of, but thriving within the greater American society. And in my sovereign kingdom, in front of my castle, I want one really big soapbox.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Phone Bill
As the old song says, “Stay on the sunny side, always on the sunny side of life.” I would add, stay on the funny side of life. If I go down laughing I figure I will have cheated the Grim Reaper of his pound of grief. I’ve seen too many people who have wasted their golden years by going sour and negative and living too much in the good old days instead of the present.
BUT…the phone bill came. It still contained the same three bogus collect calls we worked with the phone company to correct the previous billing cycle and it threatened late charges if we did not pay in full. Originally the calls were not bogus and we paid for them; it was only when they tried to charge us a second time for the same calls (exact same time of day, exact same length of call, different date) that I got miffed. Since the phone company was using the same phony date for all three calls, two of the collect calls supposedly took place at the same time, an impossibility.
Because the phone company had outsourced operated assisted calls to a separate billing company, I contacted that billing company first and talked to Jeremiah. He assured me that we had received a credit for the calls in question and that credit had been passed on to yet another outsourced billing company and would eventually reach the phone company’s billing department in another billing cycle or two. How many layers of outsourcing did the phone company have! In this day and age of electronic data transfer systems and the internet, when I can chat instantaneously with someone on the other side of the world, I am amazed that a single corporation cannot transfer billing data within its own structure in a single billing cycle.
Next I called the phone company’s own billing department to pass on to them that Jeremiah had given us a credit and that we should not be charged late payment fees. (Why Jeremiah could not make this same call, I don’t know.) I talked with a computerized answering machine for 15 minutes, answering numerous yes or no questions and pressing a bunch of telephone buttons and listening to infomercials and disclaimers when, for no obvious reason the system hung up on me.
I dialed back, got the same computerized woman’s voice and was asked for the last eight digits of my billing code, which I read off with careful enunciation. The code contained a 77 but when the computer read it back, it only got one 7. “Is this your correct billing code number?” “No.” “Try again.” On the third try I punched the numbers in off my phone instead of speaking and the computer still read back only one 7. “Is this your correct billing code number?” “Yes,” I lied and finally got out of the death cycle. After a small eternity of “all our operators are busy at the moment… please leave a number and we will call you,” I finally heard a weak, fuzzy, mechanical-sounding voice mutter some well- rehearsed line. “Are you a real person?” “Yes.” Hallelujah, Houston we have touchdown!
As I began registering my complaint to Jessica, she began interrupting me with “You are mistaken…You don’t understand our system”… and so on. I continued coolly, explaining what Jeremiah had said and that I had just gotten off the phone with him. It took the part about being billed for two calls on the same day at the same time to convince her. She put a freeze on any late charges, although the error would possibly continue to appear on the next two billing cycles. (Man, their electronic data system must be slow!)
Immediately after freezing the late payment charges, Jessica launched into a sales spiel to get me to bundle my TV cable with land line telephone. She seemed oblivious to the irony that while I was complaining about her company’s services, she was trying to sell me more services. “I don’t have cable TV,” I said. There was a momentary pause, then “Don’t you want to get cable? Don’t you watch a lot of television?” “I watch very little TV; I read a lot” There was a much longer pause as it took time to sink in just what a backwoods rube she was dealing with. This was good because now I had a chance to get my second bill complaint in.
We had used all our allotted long distance minutes on our plan and a little more; yet we were charged a short fall fee or minimum charge. How could we have gone over our limit and still not have met the minimum charge? “We are REQUIRED to charge the short fall fee because of the new regulations,” she said. It sounded fishy. “Are those new government imposed regulations or just the phone company’s new regulations?” There was silence. “Hasn’t the phone company just raised its prices without informing us?” I asked. “Yes,” she said quietly. I realized the conversation was being taped and she was trying to give the company line to keep her job. Jessica doubled our long distance minutes so that at least we would not be charged an overage fee and a short fall fee at the same time. I think it was the best she could do.
So here I be…waiting two more billing cycles…and staying on the funny sunny side. It’s all just a big joke, anyway!
BUT…the phone bill came. It still contained the same three bogus collect calls we worked with the phone company to correct the previous billing cycle and it threatened late charges if we did not pay in full. Originally the calls were not bogus and we paid for them; it was only when they tried to charge us a second time for the same calls (exact same time of day, exact same length of call, different date) that I got miffed. Since the phone company was using the same phony date for all three calls, two of the collect calls supposedly took place at the same time, an impossibility.
Because the phone company had outsourced operated assisted calls to a separate billing company, I contacted that billing company first and talked to Jeremiah. He assured me that we had received a credit for the calls in question and that credit had been passed on to yet another outsourced billing company and would eventually reach the phone company’s billing department in another billing cycle or two. How many layers of outsourcing did the phone company have! In this day and age of electronic data transfer systems and the internet, when I can chat instantaneously with someone on the other side of the world, I am amazed that a single corporation cannot transfer billing data within its own structure in a single billing cycle.
Next I called the phone company’s own billing department to pass on to them that Jeremiah had given us a credit and that we should not be charged late payment fees. (Why Jeremiah could not make this same call, I don’t know.) I talked with a computerized answering machine for 15 minutes, answering numerous yes or no questions and pressing a bunch of telephone buttons and listening to infomercials and disclaimers when, for no obvious reason the system hung up on me.
I dialed back, got the same computerized woman’s voice and was asked for the last eight digits of my billing code, which I read off with careful enunciation. The code contained a 77 but when the computer read it back, it only got one 7. “Is this your correct billing code number?” “No.” “Try again.” On the third try I punched the numbers in off my phone instead of speaking and the computer still read back only one 7. “Is this your correct billing code number?” “Yes,” I lied and finally got out of the death cycle. After a small eternity of “all our operators are busy at the moment… please leave a number and we will call you,” I finally heard a weak, fuzzy, mechanical-sounding voice mutter some well- rehearsed line. “Are you a real person?” “Yes.” Hallelujah, Houston we have touchdown!
As I began registering my complaint to Jessica, she began interrupting me with “You are mistaken…You don’t understand our system”… and so on. I continued coolly, explaining what Jeremiah had said and that I had just gotten off the phone with him. It took the part about being billed for two calls on the same day at the same time to convince her. She put a freeze on any late charges, although the error would possibly continue to appear on the next two billing cycles. (Man, their electronic data system must be slow!)
Immediately after freezing the late payment charges, Jessica launched into a sales spiel to get me to bundle my TV cable with land line telephone. She seemed oblivious to the irony that while I was complaining about her company’s services, she was trying to sell me more services. “I don’t have cable TV,” I said. There was a momentary pause, then “Don’t you want to get cable? Don’t you watch a lot of television?” “I watch very little TV; I read a lot” There was a much longer pause as it took time to sink in just what a backwoods rube she was dealing with. This was good because now I had a chance to get my second bill complaint in.
We had used all our allotted long distance minutes on our plan and a little more; yet we were charged a short fall fee or minimum charge. How could we have gone over our limit and still not have met the minimum charge? “We are REQUIRED to charge the short fall fee because of the new regulations,” she said. It sounded fishy. “Are those new government imposed regulations or just the phone company’s new regulations?” There was silence. “Hasn’t the phone company just raised its prices without informing us?” I asked. “Yes,” she said quietly. I realized the conversation was being taped and she was trying to give the company line to keep her job. Jessica doubled our long distance minutes so that at least we would not be charged an overage fee and a short fall fee at the same time. I think it was the best she could do.
So here I be…waiting two more billing cycles…and staying on the funny sunny side. It’s all just a big joke, anyway!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Why I Write
Besides learning to cook, I am also passing the winter by writing. Writing is a pastime that can be done in a nice warm house and dovetails nicely with my desire to fish and garden in warmer weather. The input costs into the “writing business” are negligible to nonexistent. I’ve always had an existential itch for immortality. When old age has turned my brain to jelly or my dead body lies a moldering in the grave, my thoughts will go on…and on…and on… (at least until someone hits the delete key).
I believe part of my inspiration to pen my thoughts comes from what I consider a waste in our education system. While I was in college, I wrote numerous ten to twenty page papers as requirements to pass various courses. The papers, which often required a lot of research and work, were returned with a grade and perhaps a one-line comment, only to be thrown in a trash can or tucked away in some forgotten folder. Why couldn’t the university (or for that matter why couldn’t I) have organized all the papers around some common theme or thesis, so that each paper could form one chapter in a book. In the eight semesters required to get a degree, I could have been an author and that would have been a heady experience.
A whole book can even be completed in just one semester, if a teacher challenges an entire class to coordinate their individual papers so that each student’s paper forms a single chapter. This sort of class project can be carried out even on a high school level. There would be little extra work for each student than for writing their individual papers. Peer pressure, teamwork and networking could all be turned into positive social forces to advance individual education and to teach inter-personal dynamics. To be able to say, “I wrote a book” would greatly enhance teenage self-esteem and education could (dare I say it) be fun.
Just so you don’t think this is all pie-in-the-sky soapbox preaching, let me say this process and a small class of graduate economics students produced the best seller, The Amazing Bread Machine. The book went through numerous printings and was eventually made into an educational film produced and acted by, you guessed it, the same class of students.
So folks, just let me enjoy my writing as an ego trip in self-expression and please family, don’t hit the delete key until AFTER the funeral.
I believe part of my inspiration to pen my thoughts comes from what I consider a waste in our education system. While I was in college, I wrote numerous ten to twenty page papers as requirements to pass various courses. The papers, which often required a lot of research and work, were returned with a grade and perhaps a one-line comment, only to be thrown in a trash can or tucked away in some forgotten folder. Why couldn’t the university (or for that matter why couldn’t I) have organized all the papers around some common theme or thesis, so that each paper could form one chapter in a book. In the eight semesters required to get a degree, I could have been an author and that would have been a heady experience.
A whole book can even be completed in just one semester, if a teacher challenges an entire class to coordinate their individual papers so that each student’s paper forms a single chapter. This sort of class project can be carried out even on a high school level. There would be little extra work for each student than for writing their individual papers. Peer pressure, teamwork and networking could all be turned into positive social forces to advance individual education and to teach inter-personal dynamics. To be able to say, “I wrote a book” would greatly enhance teenage self-esteem and education could (dare I say it) be fun.
Just so you don’t think this is all pie-in-the-sky soapbox preaching, let me say this process and a small class of graduate economics students produced the best seller, The Amazing Bread Machine. The book went through numerous printings and was eventually made into an educational film produced and acted by, you guessed it, the same class of students.
So folks, just let me enjoy my writing as an ego trip in self-expression and please family, don’t hit the delete key until AFTER the funeral.
Garbage man
Trash or garbage…what’s your preference? I’ve always been more of a garbage man myself. It may be because I get a certain satisfaction in my daily routine of carrying the gallon ice cream pail of egg shells, coffee grounds, banana peels, and table scraps out to the garden compost pile. I like making compost; I like organic gardening; I like earthworms, and I don’t like waste. The garbage serves as the “green material,” (i.e., nitrogen) which helps heat up the “brown material,” which for my pile is mostly dried leaves from the maples that shade our home in summer. Compost, green manure (turned under ryegrass), and wood ashes will someday provide most of the fertilization needed for our small garden plot. I can’t put meat scraps or fish heads in the compost because that would draw vermin, so I bury it too deep to be dug up, usually three feet or more down.
Of course some trash is also bio-degradable, notably newsprint (not the colored ads) and cardboard. Both of these can serve as weed-smothering mulches if covered and weighted down against the wind. Earth worms love cardboard and newsprint mulches almost as much as coffee grounds. The worms not only “plow” and aerate garden soil with their burrowing, but also enrich it with worm castings and their dead bodies.
Some trash is recyclable, but most is not bio-degradable. I take a pick up load of trash to the public dumpster each month, only about a fourth of it is recyclable, even though I recycle metal cans and plastic jugs religiously. “How can I bring this much trash in now and have the same amount next month?” I muttered. (In our defense, I must say that we did have a lot less when I burned all paper packaging, but we have cut out burning because of the global warming issue.) “You buy more of it every week when you go to the store,” replied the dumpster attendant.
I prefer bio-degrading to recycling because energy and greenhouse gasses are created in both the transportation and remanufacture of recycled products, albeit much less than manufacturing from raw materials. Home produced vegetables and products require no containers for shipping, so I feel better about garden produce which does not need to be transported cross country or put in metal cans or plastic containers. I also feel a little more self-sufficient and independent. Gardening and turning compost piles are good exercise for breaking a sweat. No need for a gym membership. Of course, trash can be reduced by not buying stuff we don’t need. We need to discern between wants and needs. We are not slaves to consumerism. Besides, I also enjoy turning earthworms into crappie!
Of course some trash is also bio-degradable, notably newsprint (not the colored ads) and cardboard. Both of these can serve as weed-smothering mulches if covered and weighted down against the wind. Earth worms love cardboard and newsprint mulches almost as much as coffee grounds. The worms not only “plow” and aerate garden soil with their burrowing, but also enrich it with worm castings and their dead bodies.
Some trash is recyclable, but most is not bio-degradable. I take a pick up load of trash to the public dumpster each month, only about a fourth of it is recyclable, even though I recycle metal cans and plastic jugs religiously. “How can I bring this much trash in now and have the same amount next month?” I muttered. (In our defense, I must say that we did have a lot less when I burned all paper packaging, but we have cut out burning because of the global warming issue.) “You buy more of it every week when you go to the store,” replied the dumpster attendant.
I prefer bio-degrading to recycling because energy and greenhouse gasses are created in both the transportation and remanufacture of recycled products, albeit much less than manufacturing from raw materials. Home produced vegetables and products require no containers for shipping, so I feel better about garden produce which does not need to be transported cross country or put in metal cans or plastic containers. I also feel a little more self-sufficient and independent. Gardening and turning compost piles are good exercise for breaking a sweat. No need for a gym membership. Of course, trash can be reduced by not buying stuff we don’t need. We need to discern between wants and needs. We are not slaves to consumerism. Besides, I also enjoy turning earthworms into crappie!
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