Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Happy Friggin' Whatever

Well, folks.... it's been a long year; perhaps fifteen months' worth. We went through all sorts of bizarre excremental stuff here and shared it with you. The good stuff stayed home, sorry. We learned about health insurance, observed the Unemployment Follies, watched the car suffer potholes, Philly drivers, people who stop short, and discovered that each accident requires a five hundred dollar deductible. We also found out that there is a yearly limit on rental car days. Neighbors inquired about the house going on sheriff's sale and reported us to the township because of standing water (which turned out to be the dog's pool).

We were told tales of line-dancing Jews, I Heart Boobies bracelets, the woman who beat her mother with a vibrator, recording a song parody in the living room for Billy Joel, dusty Hawaiian shirts, Carlos Santana's questionable musical choices, Security Plus certification and Waffle House - average food...quickly. We even discovered how difficult it is to put stuff into bags.

There has been much head-exploding. In the world of pets, there has been serious attachment due to unemployment, a spooning spaniel, a dog and cat who taught the neighbor to feed them on command and a cocker who does his own recycling.

---------------------------

And for my last shot of 2014, I give you Internet Acronyms.


SOMFAL - sitting on my fat ass laughing
HYBIBRB - hold your breath, I'll be right back
WPFOMA - when pigs fly out my ass
SWWK - strangling wife with keyboard
IGTRTTIAKY - I'm going to reach through the internet and kill you
WTFAYW - what the f- are you wearing?
OMGYFTAI - Oh my God, you fit that all inside?
MBFFIAT - my best friend forever is a transexual
ITDHTCA - is the dog humping the cat again?
AFKBA - away from keyboard, bleeding again
TKALUITB - the kids are locked up in the basement
ICTWYMF - I can't talk with your mouth full.




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Thank you all for showing up, reading and commenting. I'd like to take this opportunity to wish you Happy Whatever. Stay healthy. Get a job or a better job. Peace. Take care of your pets. By default, 2015 is going to shine.



Monday, December 22, 2014

Joe Has Just Left the Building

Joe Cocker died, age 70, from lung cancer.

It was the 1970's. I remember it well, which is interesting, as I remember very little. In the front of the house, next to the air conditioner, my mom kept a stack of albums [shut up] against the wall. One had a white background and a picture of some strange looking guy who seemed to be in pain. With a cover like that, it had to be good. I was a youngster so I didn't know any better but I knew what I liked. I wore the damn album out and collected more and more. 

Yes, my mother turned me on to Joe Cocker. Turnabout is fair play: I introduced her to the Allman Brothers and took my parents to their first Little Feat concert.

I only saw him once or twice in concert, although I had video and audio. You can catch a lot of his stuff on Youtube but I recommend Mad Dogs and Englishmen, a documentary of his tour in the very early seventies. Leon Russell was his musical director. My, how things have changed.

There are certain songs that never fail to get an audience going. As a result, my bands always played Feelin' Alright. Also The Letter. No matter how poorly we played it, the audience got up and danced.

Jimmy Page was a session guitarist way back then and played on 'With a Little Help' and 'Bye Bye Blackbird'. Page also played on Tom Jones' 'It's Not Unusual' and a fair percentage of the music coming out of England at the time.

When I was doing musical comedy, I did a Cocker parody. While I can do a decent imitation, I cannot really sing (like most singers today, I never let that stop me).

People often ask about non-guitar players influencing your playing.  Joe opened me up to new kinds of music. He made me want to play. He also made me want to sing (my poor audiences). Fortunately his songs and style are well-documented and will be with us forever.

My first black rescue cocker was named Joe Cocker Spaniel. He, too, was a legend in his area.

We aren't left with a lot in his wake. We still have Gregg Allman, Delbert McClinton and Sass Jordan (who did a duet with Joe).

Man, I'm getting old.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Health Insurance or Let's Make Your Head Explode

Now that I'm sorta almost nearly employed, it's time to deal with the Evil Empire (no, not Comcast) - health insurance. For those of you who think Obama did wonders for the uninsured, it's time to crawl back under whatever rock from which you emerged.

I objected to government-run healthcare and I caught a ton of crap for it. I objected because nothing run by the government is a good idea or works correctly: look at Medicare and Social Security. The objection from the other side was that at least people would be insured.

The long and short of it, dear readers/plodders, is that Obamacare is a gift to insurance companies. You must have an Obama-approved plan or pay a fine. After some research, a fine would actually be better in some cases.

If you have an employer-sponsored plan, do the research. You'll probably find that it's cheaper with your employer. You will also avoid the dreaded Donut Hole [more later].

My previous employer (where the yellow brick road meets the duck pond) had good coverage at ridiculous rates. My new employer offers so-so coverage at ridiculous Obamacare rates. It makes my head spin.

So off I went, to healthcare.gov, to do my own research. Now I know insurance, from being in the field, being a consumer and being married to a Frequent Flyer. With all of my cumulative years of insurance dealings, after doing the research and going over the numbers, my head exploded. There are bits of cranium, red stuff and something that looks vaguely like cauliflour all over the ceiling. Have you ever tried to clean this stuff off a ceiling? With or without a ladder? In the dead of winter? Without so much as a pole?

The people who champion Obamacare will tell you that millions more people now have healthcare than before.  What they don't tell you is that in most cases, this is subsidized by everyone else. And they can have up to six thousand dollar deductibles. For all of you playing along at home, this means that the insured have to pay up to six thousand dollars before their insurance kicks in (twelve thousand for couples). People who have never had insurance before are getting the shock of their lives because they don't know what a deductible is. Yes, they are technically covered but most won't even make their deductible (unless they have a hospital trip in their future). So that's a monthly premium plus a deductible. You are paying for the right to pay your deductible (or pay a fine).

To be fair, one of my loyal readers is overjoyed with their plan. I must admit that it's a great deal and really helps my reader out.  There may also be a difference between states that have their own plans and states that default to the federal plan (mine).

Are you ready?  [drum roll]

I did some ridiculously complex spreadsheet projections to see what plan benefits us most. This was rather a shame, as I am completely incapable of ridiculously complex spreadsheet projections. One has to take into account the premium, deductible, copay for office visits (primary and specialist) and drug copay. Add a headache to your already-spinning head.

For a single guy about my age, the cheapest plan is about four hundred dollars per month, with a sixteen hundred dollar deductible. In the end, I will have put out an additional thirty eight hundred dollars on top of the premium and deductible (plus donut hole). I am by no means a large user of medical services. This kind of plan is good for younger, healthy folks or me.

But wait...

Now stop waiting. You can select plans with escalating monthly premiums. For a premium of four hundred thirty eight dollars and a four thousand dollar deductible, I would put out two thousand one hundred fifty six additional dollars. Plus donut hole.

There are a few other plans with cheaper monthly premiums and deductible so high that insurance would never kick in.

And if you think this is bad, try adding your spouse to the plan. It comes out over double the premium for a single person.  And if you think this is bad, I won't even mention the family plan.

And now your head has exploded, like mine, and your relatives/cohabitants/roommates are left to try to remove the stains from the ceiling.


WHO REALLY WANTS TO DO THIS?

I have a thing about being interrupted - it agitates me. The more interruptions, the more agitated I get.
So I'm starting my Grand Analysis and my wife jumps up to have a cigarette. I continue then ask for the cost of her meds. She leaps from the couch and starts watering a plant.

At this point, I'm getting the idea that she does not want to deal with this. I asked. She asked why I asked. I told her that it's important we do this and the fact that she keeps leaving the general area seems to indicate that she wants no part of this process.

Attempting to listen to my point, she sits down and her leg starts jumping around of its own accord. In her family, leg jumping indicates agitation and anger. When Dad's leg was moving, she needed to make herself scarce. I pointed at her leg, which she hadn't noticed. Even when she noticed it, it would not stop moving. I have to admit it was pretty funny watching her trying to stop it (and failing).

Further into calculating numbers, my darling picks up her phone and starts reviewing the calls. At this point, I'm quite agitated due to the constant interruptions (although neither of my legs is moving about on its own). Finally I had to pull out the Big Guns and ask if playing with the phone was more important than deciding on healthcare.  She finally admitted that she didn't want to do this.

Funny, neither did I.  And I pity folks who have little knowledge of healthcare and insurance.


DONUT HOLES

Far from being a tasty treat, donut holes are poisonous entities, otherwise known as gifts to insurance companies, installed by Congress as a Screw You to the populace.  And don't forget - Congress does not have to use this wreck they created; they have their own special plan that covers what ours doesn't.

Donut holes come with drug plans that aren't from an employer, for instance, all Obamacare plans. Your drugs are covered up to a certain dollar amount, then you fall into the donut hole, when the plan pays a paltry percentage for your meds. Another few thousand dollars later, you are again covered under the catastrophic portion of the plan.  If you are prescribed a lot of medicines, especially expensive ones, you are beyond screwed. It's cat food for you (which would be just fine with my dog but not me).

My parents hit their donut hole in October. My wife hit her donut hole in forty five days. And this magic carpet ride starts all over again in January.


OLD FOLKS

The Medicare set, along with the Disability set, gets Medicare insurance. This is a good insurance but it does not cover the entire medical expense. It also does not cover drugs.  For example, let's say the doctor charges you one hundred dollars for your visit. In the Olde Days<tm>, Medicare would pay eighty dollars (after deductible) and your additional Medigap policy would cover the extra twenty. But since this is most definitely not the Olde Days<tm>, it no longer works that way. Out of one hundred dollars, Medicate pays eighty (after a larger deductible) and Medigap, depending on plan, might pay ten, with the extra ten to come directly from your pocket.  So you need Medicare hospital and doctor (Plans A+B), supplemental/Medigap (Plan C) and meds (Plan D, after deductible, with possible pre-existing conditions).  There are also Medicare replacements, which encompass Plans A,B,C and D and have exclusions and weird HMO regulations.

There is also a late filing fee for people who don't get their insurance during Normal Signup Time. Normal Signup Time is a few days in December, between the hours of ten and eleven, at the Normal Registration Place, around the corner, in the sub-basement, in the secret room you must go on a trek to locate the key for.  Hint: beware of the anteaters; they're out to get you.

By the time my wife has navigated this mess, her plans cost two hundred dollars per month with a five hundred dollar deductible and an additional six thousand dollars out of pocket. This estimate does not include some meds, hidden deductibles, hidden costs, late fees, and a one thousand dollar mandatory tribute to the President and architects of this Insurance Wonder.

If you're wondering why I was unemployed so long, let me do the math for you.... I need to make approximately two hundred thousand dollars per year to pay for all of this. And this is before anyone runs into my car (with its five hundred dollar deductible).

I have to go now. My insurance only covers one cranial explosion per year, plus the ceiling cleanup is not covered by anybody but me.



Monday, December 15, 2014

Carlos Santana Does it Again - or Does He?


I'm sitting here, desperately trying to avoid doing anything productive and being incredibly successful. Part of the traditional activity of being incredibly successful at avoiding doing anything productive is the traditional activity of watching something on tv, or in my case, online. I'm what they call a cord-cutter; a person getting away from cable and using the 'net to watch whatever I want. So up pops a Santana concert and I'm glued to the computer, as a lifelong Santana fan.

And who doesn't love Carlos?

I just have a few questions:

* what happened to his tone? That clear, singing sustain seemed to have evolved(?) into a very dirty, high-gain tone without much brilliance (or all the high end rolled off). His PRS namesake guitar is magnificent and has a small camera attached to the headstock, allowing a very interesting view of him playing (providing you don't get dizzy easily).

* Sarah McLaghlin? (yeah, I know I didn't spell that right). I recognize the weepy tune from an SPCA commercial. Carlos is playing a nylon string guitar. It's attached to a stand for no apparent reason. Is this a mic thing? Sarah is desperately in need of hair.

* Carlos seems to be touring with a small circus, including a number of dancers. I wonder if he thought he'd be as famous as Miley Cyrus if he got dancers. Regardless, I'm thinking this would not be a good idea for me - I can barely walk without tripping over my own feet, no less colliding with a lady with a huge, colorful headpiece and a tiny yellow outfit. Normally this would not be a bad thing (I can take or leave the headpiece) but I have a show to worry about.

* Something called Everlast (the boxing gloves guy) came out to sing a song. He's a bit melodically impaired, not singing so much as growling. The best I can do is Dr. John without all the singing ability.

* Carlos' hat appears to be on backwards. Perhaps, like his shoe line with the dangerously high heels, he's making a fashion statement. I make one fashion statement: I give it the finger.

* Lauryn Hill? The rather large fellow in the tan rug must be Cee Lo. C'mon... Carlos really didn't have to go with this concept of using 'hip' front persons. Judging from album sales, this was apparently a really good idea. Sigh..

* No Santana concert would be complete without his Big Jewish Hit: Oy Vey Como Va.

* The Project J and B: this seems to be largely one guy singing Maria and another guy saying UH-HUH for no apparent reason, with no apparent timing. You must be really cool when you say Carlos Santana in a Carlos Santana song; way too cool for me to understand.

* Rob Thomas: I've actually heard this song. This guy can't sing either but oh boy, he must be hip; he has an earring.


So I mentioned I got a job.
Well, let me be 100% accurate - I am logically, technically, provisionally, traditionally and damn near fully working. Soon. Still waiting on whatever it is they make you wait on before your start date. I think we're off to a really good start: H/R gave me the wrong information and I had to complete all of the paperwork a second time.

I asked about a dress code and the answer was more or less affirmative: there is a dress code but they're not going to tell me what it is. It's also possible that they don't know what the dress code is - I'm new here and don't know squat. It is also possible that there are several dress codes, depending on how far from Manglement and the metal detectors you work.  At first I objected to the anal probe but the lady with the gun was pretty cute so I let her continue. Of course they didn't find anything but I may go back and tell her I hid a surprise for her.

Oh dear... I have a conundrum... I'm typing this shit out, being creative, and there's now a huge manhunt on the scanner in the next county [there are helicopters and a Dairy Queen involved]. To top that off, my wife just arrived with some sort of double chocolate ice cream with huge Oreo chunks [click].


Monday, December 8, 2014

The Unemployment Follies - Final: The Pets' Lament

Thanks for hanging in there with Thermionic Emissions through this most interesting time (all three of you).

As you might have noticed, this is the final installment of The Unemployment Follies.  This can mean a number of things: 1. I'm going to shoot myself (or someone else), 2. I somehow managed to become employed.  As amusing an idea of shooting would be, I'm going to have to go with number two; I somehow managed to become employed.

This blog is nothing if not logical.  Now follow this logic: as we know, I'm am information security guy. And as we've all read, there are tons of hacking incidents happening all over the place, each worse than the previous one. Therefore, there is a huge demand for security people, so I should get a job very quickly.  While this blog is logical, little outside of it is, thus the five month desperate search for a new position.

My wife is very supportive. She's been dealing with everything well but for some reason lately she's been reminding me (constantly) that I only have one month of unemployment compensation left. It's not that I didn't appreciate the rather frequent, panic-filled reminders, but I was somewhat well-acquainted with the impending date. No pressure, of course. Mowing lawns and McDonalds were starting to look good. And you know about my almost paralyzing fear of mowing. Not to mention my almost paralyzing fear of eating anything from McDonalds.

I started looking outside my specialty. Interviews started picking up. I spent hours each day looking for a job. My in-laws were holding prayer vigils outside the house at night, complete with candles that kept me up until daylight. The neighbor's children added me to their school's prayer list. Two people read my tarot cards and put me in a job before the end of the year. A friend said I was working way too hard and to simply ask for a new job within forty-eight hours, also writing it down on a piece of paper.

One, some, or all of the above held a conference, wherever these types of conferences are held and laid one on me. Within a few hours, someone called about a job. Within a week, I was provisionally hired. When I say provisionally, I mean that they have to do a little snooping around in my past. You're thinking that I'll be back on the unemployment rolls again, aren't you? I wish them luck - since I can't remember a bunch of it, perhaps they'll have better luck (and tell me a little about it). Hopefully neither of us will discover what I did with the bodies.


ADJUSTMENTS

There will have to be many adjustments made after me being home for such a long time. The ones affected most would be the poor pets.  Not that we weren't bonded well before this but now I have two quadrupeds almost physically attached to me all day.  Since I'm not exactly an athletic guy, this means there are two pets fighting for lap and sofa space all day. If one lays against my leg, the other one hops up on my lap. This is less than optimal, as there's usually a laptop there. The damn dog can do things I can't do on my laptop, with just one paw. I suspect my wife will have to take them through some sort of Pet De-Attachment Program. They won't know what to do without Daddy sitting around the house all day.

Inter-species same sex sibling relationships are the best.


The humans will have to make adjustments too, like having electricity and heat. Ok, more like having better chocolate and paying bills. I have a genuine fondness for paying bills. Well, maybe not a genuine fondness and maybe the wife pays the bills, but you get where I'm going with this.

Speaking of the little four-legged darlings, the cat has taken to peeing on a mat by the kitchen sink. Even after I've just gotten up, the mat does not resemble his litter box in any way, shape, or form. Now picture my sheer delight when washing the dishes, to discover I'm standing on a mat made wet by cat urine. Serves me right for not wearing shoes when I wash dishes. Or for having a lovely little furball who decided not to use his litter box that particular time.

The dog, not to be left out, has decided I take too much time to let him in from outside. Today I had to apologize for him having to bark twice before I let him in. I looked at the cat and asked him why he couldn't let his brother in - after all, he's a very bright cat. Of course he's bright... he gets ME to open the door.

THE BIG EVENT

Once in every decade or two comes an event so spectacular as to defy belief.  Yes, we started cleaning the house. Marshall was especially grateful for us removing all of the clutter that had deposited itself on the dining room chairs. This allowed him to use a chair as a step stool, gaining access to the table itself, whereupon he proceeded to eat the remaining half of a fresh cherry cheesecake. Let this serve as a lesson to each and every one of you: DO NOT CLEAN. EVER.


STARBUCKS

Most of you know Starbucks as a place to get overpriced, over-roasted coffee with a whole lotta smug appeal. Did you know it's also a great place for a sociology lesson?  Someone asked me to meet him there last week, in spite of my begging and pleading to go anywhere else, even Denny's.  While I waited in the parking lot, I observed the following:


  • Some genius in an SUV pulls up to the NO PARKING HERE sign and parks (with a half-full parking lot).
  • A BMW driver getting into his car with his double espresso half latte nonfat cream. He closes the door then opens it again and proceeds to pour out his old coffee onto the parking lot.
  • A sixty-something with dyed black hair and boots so high she couldn't walk in them, attempting to navigate the lot and somehow open the door.
  • Two more people spilling old coffee onto the lot.
  • Several other people randomly inventing their own parking spaces, again with a half-full lot.

WESTERN UNION - WORSE THAN DENTISTRY

Speaking of paying bills, it became important to pay one bill immediately, as in now; and when I say now, I mean yesterday. I was advised to use Western Union, Moneygram or Wells Fargo. So I went online and did the transaction with Western Union. A day later, I realized that Western Union had not only not bothered to complete the transaction, they hadn't bothered to let me know they didn't complete the transaction.

So I called Western Union. Apparently the transfer was on hold. Apparently notifying me was on hold too. The nice non-English as a first language speaking fellow told me that it could not be completed. So I asked him why and he didn't know. Then he told me I could go into any Western Union office. I informed him that if I wanted to go into an office, I wouldn't have called him in the first place. He suggested I try online. I already tried online, using two operating systems and four browsers. Online help told me that people were having trouble online and to use the phone. Are you following me still?

He promises me a coupon. I don't want a coupon, I want him to put the damn transaction through. It was like the Cheese Shop sketch:

You are Western Union, right?
Yes, sir.
You send money, correct?
Yes, sir.
You have been around since long before I was born?
Yes, sir.
Are you telling me you can send money for everyone but me?
Well... let me check.  Ok, I checked and we can perform the transaction again. All I need is all of your information over again. And we're processing. And it has rejected again.
What has rejected - Western Union or the bank?
Western Union.
So you're telling me that Western Union cannot send money.
I didn't say that.
But you can't send my money.
You can try again but not for twenty four hours when our computers reset.
CLICK.

So I tried Moneygram online.  Oops, they don't have the correct receiver number - have to go to one of their locations. At their location I set up the payment, got my transaction number, went to the counter and POOF - they couldn't take credit cards for wire transfer.

My friend looked at me in wild-eyed wonder.

This morning I decided to go straight to Wells Fargo bank, as the money was being transferred to Wells Fargo anyway.  I called to make sure this was ok and off I went. After giving them cash, they took the opportunity to mention that the payment wouldn't post for up to three days. At this point my eyes were rolling like a slot machine. My ears were buzzing and the voices in my head were telling me to do things that were quite illegal, immoral and generally Not Nice.

The bank's staff were incredibly helpful and set out to find out how to let another division of Wells Fargo know that this division of Wells Fargo got a payment for them.  After another thirty minutes, we all discovered, to our shock and surprise, that it was faster to use Western Union or Moneygram than their own branch.

Since I will pull all of my own body hair out, one by one, before I visit Western Union, I opted for Moneygram. Within three minutes, the money had transferred. Two entire days to pay a bill by wire transfer. My brain hurts and there are still pieces of my cranium on the ceiling at Wells Fargo.



I'd like to close this merry missive with the words of the latest email I received:

Love the Monkees? Don't miss this!!!  
When I opened the email, it was an ad for an Aretha Franklin concert.