Pimples

It was too late for the pimple-faced fellow to get up early, so he buried his head in his pillow and resorted to his usual practice of sleeping in. He had essentially just wasted three of the most precious months of his young life in the same way. He was lazy, immature, naive and basically oblivious to anything that did not directly affect him. There were only a few weeks remaining until he would attend his first day of high school. The lackluster lad had no reason to suspect that this would be the most influential day he would ever experience.

It all started exactly one year earlier, when the next-door neighbors elected to move away. Their only child, a son, was one year the senior to the pimple-faced boy. The two adolescents and their families lived in the poor part of town, so their resources were meager, but each of the young fellows owned a baseball mitt. Predictably, they filled countless hours, simply playing catch.

The local high-school earned an especially seedy reputation, so the parents of the neighbor boy dreaded the thought of their son attending such a school. The 80-year old building had been neglected for years. Bars on the windows lent the impression that it was a medium-security prison. The question was, were the bars to keep the unruly students in, or to keep the neighborhood bad-guys out.

Everything was run down. The lighting was poor. The halls were narrow and over-crowded. Students from years gone by had carved their initials into desktops. The restroom stalls had no doors on them because even the smallest amount of privacy afforded sanctuary for illegal activities that so often occurred.

Graffiti was commonplace. The janitors could not remove it as fast as the street artists painted colorful insults, directed at their rival gangs (About Gangs). Fighting was common, even among the girls. Occasionally, stories about bloody knife-fights and gang-fights would end up on the nightly news. Every year there were a hand-full of students who just used their school years as a stopping place on their way to jail or the state prison. Dozens of students had probation officers, while hundreds of them smoked and drank (fairly common now).


Teenage pregnancy was routine in the school. A high percentage of students dropped out. Of those who stuck it out, apathy about their school, their homes and their futures was inevitable. The less violent kids took refuge from the environment by laying their heads on their desks and sleeping away the classroom hours. The teachers “gave” passing grades to any students who did not cause trouble.

Anybody with an ounce of common sense would want to escape such a hopeless culture. The parents of the neighbor boy were determined to do precisely that. And so they moved away to a small town, with a small-town mentality and Pimples was left behind.

On the July day in discussion, the phone rang at 9:00 am. It was the older boy. He was coming to town and he wanted to play catch with Pimples. The year was 1964. The Beatles were headed to the US for their very first tour. They had just released their incredibly successful album, “A Hard Days Night” and their songs dominated the airways. “Can't Buy Me Love” was blaring on an old radio when the mother of the pimple-faced fellow announced the now-historic phone call. It was his former neighbor.

“Do you want to play catch?”

He did.

Later that day, the two young teenagers met as agreed. There was a large side-yard next to the younger lad’s home so they grabbed their old mitts and a radio and headed there. As they threw the grass-stained baseball back and forth, John Lennon was singing “I Should Have Known Better” in the background.

The small talk eventually yielded to a discussion about the infamous high-school, which awaited Pimples. Then suddenly, and without any forethought the older youth blurted out a bizarre question that even he did not know he was going to ask, “Would you like to move in with us, and go to high-school in our small town?” Just as impulsively, Pimples instinctively and enthusiastically agreed. More incredibly, and for reasons known only to God himself, the parents also approved of the impromptu plot. And so it was! The pimple-faced youngster packed his bags.

The small town high school was brand new. There was no graffiti, no apathy and no gangs. Instead, there was a strong sense of community and school spirit. The younger fellow made the football team and was shocked when the entire town shut down on Fridays to watch the games. The teachers actually cared about the students and the students genuinely liked and respected the teachers. The young pimple-faced lad liked the girls a lot better too. No doubt, he had made the correct choice.

In the winter of his senior year, the school organized a skiing weekend and Pimples went along. By the afternoon of the first day, he had made several ski runs down the mountain, and he still had time for one more run. He arrived at the chair-lift at the exact same time as one of his classmates. It just made sense to share the next chair. Her name was Patty.

Pimples already knew of Patty, but he had never really taken the time to talk with her until that day. He immediately liked her and over the next few months their relationship grew. Then they got more serious, and eventually they got married and raised their own family.

It has been over 45 years since that ironic question came completely “out of left field” while two young fellows were playing catch. But more significantly, earlier that same morning, the younger fellow, Pimples, received the most important phone call of his life.

“Do you want to play catch?”

He did.

In case you have not figured it out, Patty is my wife and I am Pimples. We will celebrate our 40th anniversary later this year, “And I Love Her” (song five on that poignant album).

The old high school is still struggling.

The small-town school is still doing well.

A 16 year-old modern day gang member tells his story

Comments are invited

We are discussing insurance scams on my other blog.

Writing Blog Articles

Facebook and MySpace provide ample evidence that lots of people enjoy voicing their opinions. However the format does not allow for much more than a few sentences per entry. Sometimes people need several consecutive entries to complete their thought.

Considering the above, I thought it would be fun to invite people to expand on nearly any topic of their choosing, and then post their articles, as guest writers, on one of my blogs. Several of them have asked me about the structure or limits of the project.

Toward that end, I have listed below some simple guidelines for writing good blog articles. However, my guest writers are not required, or even encouraged, to abide by any of them. That would be like inviting somebody to a party and then requiring them to drive a particular car to the event. This exercise is about the party, not the car.

But, for those who do want to fit within typical blog structure, here are a few pointers.

• Your primary objective is simply to make a statement that is important or interesting to you. Pick a topic that you feel passionate about. Jot down 2-5 points that will best help you to develop your thought.

• Have an introduction, a body and a conclusion. Put another way: Tell them what you are going to tell them; Then tell them; Then tell them what you told them.

• Facts are fine, but opinions are better because there is room for debate and discussion. So, a sentence such as “All children are imperfect” is not as thought-provoking as “It is time to teach the kids of today some old fashioned manners.” In the second sentence, a reader might want to argue that kids are no worse today than some other time, or old-fashioned manners were unnecessarily stern.

• It helps search engines to know what the article is about if you use a brief but complete thought in your Headline– Examples: Vegetarians are Happier; or, Michael Jackson: Singer, Dancer; or, Seniors Entitlement Attitude: Selfish.

• The less you say, the more likely someone will read it. A good blog article contains 100-500 words. (A typed page is about 300 words). If it is much longer than that, it is generally better to split the information into multiple articles.

• Link, link, link. Identify other blogs or websites which offer supporting, contradictory, background, or qualifying arguments. A good rule of thumb is one link per 100 words, but not less than three links for the entire article. You cannot have too many links.

• If you are having difficulty getting started, try writing your article as if it is a letter to a friend. Then search the web for information that will support or add to the content, and that provides your links.

• After you have finished your article, set it aside for at least two hours (over night is better) and then proof read it when you have a fresh mind. There is a good likelihood you will discover some ways to spruce up your work.

• Comment and participate with other bloggers. The object of a blog is to engage others and discuss the topic. So if you have an opinion, blogs afford a great environment to develop your thoughts; but, don’t take it too seriously if somebody else disagrees with you. That is the point.

Other good sources for information on how to write effective blog articles include Frugal Marketing, Pro Blogger, and Copy Blogger (see how easy that was).

Frugal marketing: http://www.frugalmarketing.com/dtb/killer-blog-posts.shtml

Pro Blogger: http://www.problogger.net/archives/2005/12/30/tens-tips-for-writing-a-blog-post/

Copy Blogger: http://www.copyblogger.com/write-article-fast/

If you know somebody who would like to write a guest article, I would love to discuss it.

Don't forget to check in with my Family Finances Blog: Currently discussing Insurance Scams

A-MAZE-MENT

How much clutter is hanging around your home? Before you answer that, let’s define what qualifies as clutter. If you are homeless and have so many possessions they do not all fit into your backpack, you might have too much clutter. In the other extreme you might own a mansion, filled with items and yet there is plenty of open space. So, for our purposes clutter does not have as much to do with how much stuff one has, but how much “unnecessary” stuff one has.

In my previous article we had a nice discussion about Pack Rats or as they are sometimes called, “Hoarders”. These people differ from traditional collectors because the Pack Rat just can’t bring herself to getting rid of things. This is a fairly common problem for elderly people who lived through the days when people had to be more resourceful. In the more sever cases the person might even be diagnosed as suffering from “Compulsive Hoarder Syndrome” or CHS.

CHS is not just some harmless character flaw. If left unchecked, it can lead to all sorts of problems. In one tragic case, one of twin-hoarders resulted in an unnecessary death. Another man died in a Chicago fire because of all of his clutter. In yet another example, a woman became so distraught about her clutter, she just did not care about anything any more. Her family made this heart-wrenching video.

Consider these other problems:

• False value - It can be dangerous to lend too much value to used material goods. The bible refers to it as idolatry. But we have money tied up in those items so they seem valuable to us. In the mean time, there are people sleeping under bridges who could use your old clothes and there are libraries and other individuals who could read your books. etc. So does your twelfth coat really offer more value in a box on the floor of your garage or on the back of a homeless mother?
• Sanitation – Rodents and insects need food and shelter. If there is a little water nearby, a closet full of junk may just provide an ideal place for them to call home.
• Safety – People have died because of their piles of debris. Piles have fallen on them. Others have been unable to get through their own maze of accumulations

In the beginning, the hoarder may just keep piling things up in cabinets and closets but eventually their belongings spill over into bigger areas like a basement or a garage, or even an entire apartment building. In my first book, Instant Experience for Real Estate Agents, I told a true story about a vacant 12-unit apartment building which we bought. The former managers were Pack Rats. Their particular attraction was for bicycles and bicycle parts. Apparently they roamed the alleys and brought home any bikes they discovered. The bikes were not new and flashy, or even operable, so they must have been collected one at a time over many years from the dumpsters. It took nearly two large construction dumpsters to get rid of them all.

One woman I know collects pets. Like other Hoarders she sees a certain value in abandoned dogs and cats. When one of those cats has a litter, she just doesn’t have the heart to hand them over to a shelter. She is elderly and her mind is not working well. Her CHS has affected her ability to recognize that all of her animals need homes and neutered so the problem does not get worse. Her home smells so bad she no longer accepts visitors. Her own ailments make it difficult for her to take care of the animals correctly and she cannot get out much so she just sits there in the stench, not knowing what else to do. According to Animal Sheltering, there are certain common traits that animal hoarders share. Meanwhile the pack of dogs and the clowder of cats grows, and grows. She can’t even tell you how many pets she has.

Another woman I know had hidden her affliction with CHS until she died. When her heirs cleaned up, they were shocked to find 80 cartons of cigarettes stuffed in cabinets. There were also cases of beer from decades earlier (remember the old pull-top cans). She had over 50 pairs of shoes that still had tags on them. There was a stock-pile of unused purses and countless rolls of toilet paper and napkins. The cigs and paper products were cheap generic brands or purchased with discount coupons. The shoes and purses were all purchased off of the markdown racks, frequently for a just few dollars a pair. A clear mind would have known there is no rational justification for one person to have 80 cartons of cigarettes, or so many of those other items, but a person suffering from CHS does not have a clear mind.

Do not suppose that men are exempt from CHS disease. I have known them too. One gentleman, now in his 80’s, has stuffed every spare inch of his garage with something that he imagines he might use…someday. He even has buckets of old nuts and bolts he has picked up off the streets; one such bucket is exclusively for bent nails. Another fellow I know, had so many unfinished projects in his garage and basement it all added to a cluttered and troubled mind. Eventually, he got so depressed about his inability to contain his life, he ended it prematurely.



It is not uncommon for the offspring of Pack Rats to suffer from CHS as well. An article in the Seattle Times reveals that studies are being done right now but indications are that hoarding runs in families. Apparently, when children see bad habits, over many years, that behavior begins to appear normal to them. Before long, they mimic that behavior. In my own life, one parent was a bit of a Hoarder and the other leaned toward purging. I am more like the latter. One of my kids tends to accumulate things, but the other one does not.

I have to admit that I am a bit concerned for my wife in this regard. We have too much furniture in our home and any flat surface is packed with picture frames. One day about a month ago, she admitted to me that she has many more picture frames hidden away somewhere. The actuary tables suggest I will leave this world before she does and since she is a sentimentalist, I suspect our home will continue to get more crowded as the years pass.

The last two times we cleaned out “our” closets, I got rid of about 25% of my clothes, half of my books and all of my CD’s. She threw in a few CD’s, one coat and a pair of shoes. She said that all of her other shoes have specific purposes…whatever that could be. It seems to me that one pair of black shoes, one pair of brown shoes, a couple pairs of tennis shoes and a pair or two of boots ought to be enough, but … what do I know?

My cousin, Bonnie, dropped me a note and said that she is a purger: If she hasn’t used something for a couple of years, out it goes. My Dad was even more radical. His timeline was six months, except for seasonal items like garden hoses or snow shovels. One year Patty and I gave him a popcorn-popper for Christmas. Later that year, around the 4th of July, he held his annual garage sale and that popcorn popper, new in the box, was prominently displayed on his table. Patty and I bought it from him, at a huge discount, and used it for many years after that.

I think my cousin, Bonnie, and my Dad have the right idea. When it comes to possessions, a reasonable timeline ought to be observed. If the item hasn’t been used within that time, pass it along to somebody else who is not so enriched. Garage sales can be fun and useful for this purpose. Or, it is easy to find charities that will appreciate your discards. In our area there are all sorts of homeless shelters and humanitarian organizations. There are facilities for unwed parents, veterans, seniors and all sorts of other folks. Naturally, the Goodwill is always ready to assist in this regard.

The bottom line is hoarding can be unhealthy. It gives too much value to material things and not enough value to people. We all know a great deal of pleasure can be derived from giving. Why deny ourselves the pleasure of giving those things to somebody who will have an equally gratifying experience by accepting the symbol of your generosity?

Perhaps it is time for a good Spring cleaning.

A tragic Video of 70 collies that were victims of animal hoarding is provided by University of California, Davis.

For useful tips we amateur Pack Rats can employ to make sure we don’t get carried away are here.

Your thoughts?

Drop by my other blog. It is about family finances.

If you would like to write a guest article on a topic of your choice, let me know.

I Might Need That…Someday

Are you a Pack Rat? Pack Rats are collectors who cannot bring themselves to dispose of things that they “might need… someday”. They are also called Hoarders. It is fairly easy to determine if somebody is a Pack Rat: Just look in their garage. If the rafters are full of boxes and other possessions, and if there is not enough open space for one car to easily fit into each stall that is intended for that purpose, they are probably Pack Rats. Oh sure, there can be some reasonable allowances made for anybody who has a short-term demand for that space, but I am not talking about a short-term issue.

These habitual “collectors” take over other places, too. Basements, spare bedrooms, storage sheds and attics are all vulnerable to the squirrel-people. When the bigger spaces are overrun with their valuables, then the smaller areas are needed. That is when you will notice packed closets, dressers, counter tops, cabinets and perhaps some perfectly shaped boxes that slip quietly under the beds. All of these places become a refuge for the stuff that they “might need…someday”.

Naturally all of this is a matter of degrees. In some more extreme cases, every square inch of their living space is in use. There will be way too much furniture. Pictures, mirrors, shelves, knickknacks and racks fill the wall space while magazines, newspapers, clippings, and books dominate the flat surfaces. The outside of the refrigerator has become a cross between a billboard and a repository for notes, doctor’s appointments and recipes.

For some of the more troubled pack-rats, all of this space combined, is still not enough. Some of them even rent storage space down the street somewhere. They crave more space like a drug addict needs a fix. Nothing else matters. Very often hoarding is a symptom of psychological frailties. We stumbled upon such a case just a few days ago.

My precious wife has agreed to watch over the home of an elderly woman who is suffering from advanced stages of cancer. Fortunately the sick woman has a loving family who has taken her in. But they live quite a distance away, so it is a difficult for them to visit the property, and it is unlikely the ill woman will ever return to the home that has been the receptacle of decades of accumulating things that she probably was never going to use. Yesterday we stopped by as agreed to make sure all was well.



The charming and orderly exterior of the home belied a semi-tragic contrast to the alternate-truth that was waiting to greet us inside. We clicked the button on a garage door opener that we were given for access to the two-car garage. As soon as the door lifted, a midsized car begged us for some breathing room, but we ignored the plea. There was a four-foot thick stack of boxes and old belongings jammed up against every square inch of the perimeter wall. The mountain of things that “might be needed…someday” was 5-6 feet tall.

The pathway to the kitchen door was threatened by countless boxes, which were piled up against the walls in a haphazard fashion, and hoping to jump into the sliver of open space. We carefully negotiated our way through the mini-canyon of a path and entered the woman’s home.

The upstairs was as previously described. There were way too many belongings. Furniture, magazines and breakables were wedged into every available spot. There was a large curio-cabinet that was full to capacity with dozens of charming figurines. A quick visual inspection of the home revealed that the floors offered the only available open-space. The walls, counters, closets, coffee tables, end tables, and dresser tops were all occupied. According to Health and Balance, abnormal hoarding is usually a malfunction of the frontal lobes of the brain’s cortex, usually on the right side.

One comforting observation was that we were dealing with clutter, and not filth. The ill woman and her family managed to do a good job in that regard. There was no stinky trash, no dirty dishes and nothing else that would cause a weak stomach to churn. It was basically safe and sanitary.

Before we left, we decided we should go down to the basement to make sure everything was okay. We have visited many vacant properties over the years and we have learned that this is where the signs of problems tend to show up. We have stumbled upon such surprises as leaking water pipes, a dead cat, bums, broken windows and rotted foods.

I could barely descend the stairs due to a dozen plastic tubs that were packed in there: Each one the size of a microwave oven. The tubs were somewhat transparent so one could observe that they contained harmless non-perishables such as rice. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs I found a light switch and discovered why the tubs lived on the stairway: There was no other possiblity.

The abundant pile of items in the garage was dwarfed by the accumulation of odds and ends that resided in the lower level of the dwelling. Boxes were stacked upon piles, and piles were stacked upon boxes. Bags and random objects were thrown in to break up the visual monotony. The isles that formerly allowed visitors to negotiate through the maze, submitted to the pressure. They too had been filled in, and joined the mountainous collection of leftovers that “might be needed…someday”

Two of the basement corners were inaccessible without trekking over the top of the mass of objects. Rather than risk making an even bigger mess, we elected to complete our examination from afar. Fortunately, there did not appear to be any problems so we locked-up the home and departed.

When we were driving away we felt like we would like to do more for this family. We have cleaned up bigger messes before. The first thing we would do is order a construction dumpster, but of course, any such action or even the mention of it would be inappropriate. It was basically none of our business. So we dropped the topic and recalled the two other times that Patty was called upon to clean out homes like that. Believe it or not, they were both much worse, but that is a topic for another time. According to AOL Health, there are approximately one-million Americans who suffer from Compulsive Hoarder Syndrome. Patty has known three of them personally.

To see a sad documentary about how two families have been affected by hoarders CLICK HERE.

In part two of this topic I will share with you some related stories and some tips that might help if you think you have too much clutter which you “might need …someday.”

Your comments are invited

Drop by my blog about Family Finances

Over-explaining (too much clarification)

Five of us went to dinner tonight (at Bonefish Restaurant). In attendance were Patty and me (correct grammar might be ‘I”) plus our two sons (Adam and Justin) as well as one of Adam’s long-time buddies (Bon 2 {yes that is really his name [it is an African name]})

In the course of some of the small talk (there was a lot of that) Adam proclaimed that both he and I have a tendency (if not a habit) of over-explaining ourselves. Since I had never really heard of a word such as “over-explaining” (or zillions of other words) I asked him what he meant.

He proceeded to tell me (and anybody else who wanted to listen in{oops; ended with a preposition}) that he was reading a book (an uncommon occurrence because he is usually too busy for recreational reading) in which the author (I don’t recall the name of the book or the author) was constantly explaining himself by employing parentheses (Also parenthesis). Apparently, it was not uncommon to see two or more examples in a single paragraph.

Adam went on to suggest that both he and I do the same thing in everyday discussions (although he was not doing it as he was explaining himself). Quite frankly, I had never noticed him “overexplaining” himself, but I will freely admit, that I sometimes take too long to get to the point in normal conversations (if there is such a thing).

I pondered whether my writing (such as articles like this one) was also dominated by over-explaining. I concluded (perhaps wrongly) that I am not as long-winded in print as I am in person. I do not usually use too many parentheses (or brackets). That does not mean my writing is perfect (or even close to it). In fact, I think it would be a better use of my time to focus on using more adjectives. (As an example, let me reword that last sentence: The fair-minded author had the unrestrained audacity to presuppose his own humble readers would derive deeper pleasure from his routine insertion of fantastic and colorful descriptions of nouns {but I suppose that could also be overdone})

Thank you for the fun idea, Adam!

Perhaps next time we can review in what part of the sentence a preposition should be.

What grammatical issues catch your attention?

Grammar Girl iza good plase two lern boute sum stuf.

John McIntire writes good articles about grammar.

You’ll enjoy “The Best of The Best” and more at Mental Floss,

Drop by my other blog about family finances from time to time.

What Happened to Hats?

When I was about 7 years old, my grandparents were in their 50’s. They all wore hats. It was a normal part of their attire. Many men wore a style of hat called a “fedora.” You see them all the time on the movies from the 40’s or 50’s. At that same time, the women of that era wouldn’t go out in public without a hat; especially to church. A hat was as much a part of her standard outfit as her shoes were. Haberdashers (you don’t get to work that word into your conversation very often) must long for those days; a time when everybody wore hats.

Over the succeeding decades, the use of hats has evolved. For Instance, according to Ken Austin, the first baseball hats were worn by the New York Knickerbockers in the 1880’s and they were made of straw. They were designed exclusively for keeping the sun out of sensitive eyes. But I am sure you have noticed that most of the young fellows of today wear these hats backwards, presumably to keep the sun off of their necks. The coolest guys of all twist the cap slightly to the side so that it only protects one ear from the sun, probably the ear with the biggest earring. In the mean time, they squint to keep the sun out of their eyes. I guess the girls think they look cool like that. A doctors perspective on wearing hats backwards and side ways.

As far as the ladies are concerned, there were two primary reasons women wore hats in the olden days. First, because people bathed less often, and that means they also didn’t wash their hair very frequently; so, hats served to distract from that greasy look. (want proof?) Second, hats were a way for women to make fashion statements. We have all seen pictures of some really creative ladies hats. Some of those hats tower a full foot above the heads of these beauties. They decorated them with colorful feathers, elegant ribbons, fancy fabrics and occasionally some fresh fruit. That probably explains why they went on so many picnics and were destined to have large families.

These days, you just don’t see many female hats wandering around. I think most women wash their hair more often than their great grandmothers did and they use things like foot tattoos to draw attention to their natural beauty. I guess they would rather have their toes sucked than go on a nice picnic.

When I do see a woman wearing a hat, I can’t tell if she is wearing it backwards or not.

Comments?

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