Blue Star Chronicles

Parody thanks to Sacred Cow Burgers.

Last year we spent Christmas/his birthday with his children in Boston. We spent a wonderful week with his son, daughter, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Aren’t they all beautiful?

It was a very nice Christmas/birthday!

As long as I’ve known him, I’ve suspected that he secretly likes Christmas. He’s just too manly to admit it.

We celebrate Christmas in the morning and his birthday in the afternoon. He’s bound to feel cheated.

His mother told me that when he was a child they tried to celebrate his birthday in June so he’d have a seperate celebration. But when people asked how old he was, 5 1/2 just didn’t cut it. So it went back to Christmas Day.

Maybe he was disappointed when he got old enough to realize all the decorations and celebrations weren’t just for him?

So this post is for you, honey. It’s not wrapped in Christmas paper and not a single jingle bell on it.

Just wishing you a Happy Birthday. You da man!

Love you,
Me

Following the links in her Open Track Back Blogroll, I found some very interesting posts and new blogs of interest.

I linked this post back to the links below to see if I can figure out how this works. And because I’m proud of my son.

We are all eye witnesses to the death of unions in America, at least for the time being.

This is one of those, What Are They Thinking kind of moments in life. You know … when you can’t for the life of you figure out what the thought process is of someone who is doing something that is obviously self-destructive.

I’m sure the union bosses in New York think this is perfect timing to put the squeeze on New York City. I’m sure they are thinking they are going to strong-arm New York City into caving into their demands.

I’m sure the powers that be in New York City are thrilled to death to have this opportunity to get rid of the overpaid, over-benefited workers. They can and will be replaced with non-union workers at much less expense to the tax-payers of the city.

Unions served a purpose at one time, but they have been dying out for a while now. Their power slowly eroding with ever increasing and unreasonable demands of the work place.

Now, right before our virtual eyes, the last strong hold is going the way of other unions. They are strong arming for ‘rights’ that most of us can only dream of having.

Their ‘rights’ are costing the small business man in New York City his Christmas season earnings. Their ‘rights’ are making the average man in New York City have to increase his work day by hours to walk to work - in the cold.

They make $100,000 per year - bus drivers! They are striking for better pension guarantees. They say they ’should’ be able to retire at age 55, not 62. They say they ’should’ get a pension plan that requires the city to put $23,000 into their pension per year. They say they have the ‘right’ and ‘deserve’ this.

They say they are doing this to save all unions.

If this strike successes, unions will regain some of their power.

If New York City breaks the union, it’s over for unions.

It is a death struggle.

My opinion is that the union will be broken. There is no sympathy for the exorbitant demands of the union bosses.

Most Americans would love to make $100,000 a year in a job they don’t have to take home with them (I would!). Most Americans would love to be able to retire at age 55 (I would!).

It’s hard to feel sympathy for an inarticulate guy on TV talking about his ‘right’ to retire at age 55. This guy says, ‘I shouldn’t have to work till I’m too old to enjoy retirement.’ He said this seriously.

I figure one day someone will come into my office and I’ll be slumped over my laptop. They’ll move me out of the way and start looking for someone else to run the place.

The sympathy I feel for these guys is that they are inarticulate and seemingly not very well informed. They have followed their union bosses to their demise. They are replaceable, as we all are.

Unions will come back in 20 or so years, when the pendulum swings back in the other direction.

Stay tuned. It’s gonna get ugly up in here.

I am sick. I woke up this morning sicker than I was yesterday. I tried to speak to my husband and an awful croaking sound came out of my throat. Yuck.

So I whispered. ‘What?’, he asked. ‘I can’t talk’, I croaked out the obvious in a barely audiable whisper. ‘You sound terrible’, he said, again stating the obvious, ‘poor baby, you’re sick aren’t you’. I glared at him. He left for work.

Later, he wondered out loud if he could keep me this way. He thought that was funny. I croaked out, ‘You’d miss me if I was gone.’ ‘What?’, he asked. I tried again, ‘What?’. Again I tried. ‘I can’t understand you, just rest your voice.’

What voice? I gave him my best version of the dirtiest look I could muster. He just laughed.

I called work to have my assistant call to reschedule some appointments. It’s obviously pointless for me to meet with people today and I can’t be sure I’ll be okay tomorrow. Plus, I’m probably contagious.

Someone answered the phone. I said, ‘This is …., may I speak to … please?’. ‘What?’, came the reply. I repeated. She put me on hold. For a loooonnnnggg time. I hung up, cleared my throat, determined to put on my best ‘boss’ commanding voice and called again. Someone else answered and we went through the same rigamarole. I was put on hold again. For a long time again. I hung up again.

I was steaming.

I called one last time. This time my assistant answered. I was so relieved. I started telling her what I needed her to do. ‘What?’ she asked. I started again. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m having difficulty understanding you,’ she said, ‘would you please repeat’. !!!!!!!!!! AGGGGHHHHHH.

I croaked out, ‘Stay at your desk, I’ll email you’. I mustered up all my energy to get the words out and sound authoritative, but I’m sure I sounded more like a bad connection at the drive-thru of a fast food place. ‘I’m sorry, will you repeat?’, she asked.

By this time I not only felt like death warmed over, I was irritated. So I deluged them all with emails. Phone etiquette being top on my list at that particular moment.

I was bombared with emails in return. This appointment is rescheduled, they took care of this that and the other. They didn’t realize it was me (I just wish I could express how much that irritated me).

What did bosses do before email?