Friends and Elections

One never knows how many friends one has until there’s a job to be done. Moving, celebrating or consoling, out of the woodwork they appear.

With many seats up for grabs this election, the Primary race in my county has been contentious. I’ve lost count of the negative TV ads.
I could paper my kitchen walls with the flyers I’ve received. Candidates stop by unexpectedly, leaving personal notes, just like an old friend, “Denise, Sorry I missed you. –Mike” I’m considering delivering my own little notes, “Mike, Looking forward to seeing you this Saturday at the painting party at my house. Your friend Denise"

So many “new friends” are calling the house with reminders “Vote for me in the Primary on Tuesday!” that I’ve stopped answering the phone. This quote caught my eye today: “A friend is someone who is there for you, when he’d rather be somewhere else.” I have a lot of friends looking for me today and I would rather be somewhere else.

When the polls close tomorrow, these "friends" will fade back into the woodwork - until there is a another job to be done.

Eat, Pray, Work

A conference call with a new client last month began “We are a faith-based organization and we pray before all meetings. You can join us if you like.” Some might find this odd. I found it oddly comforting.

I have many non-profit clients. Translation, religious groups. Jewish, Catholic, Presbyterian, they run the gamut. No one has ever asked me to pray with them before. Given the nature of our economy, prayer in business meetings may not be such a bad idea.

I thank God every day I have a job, many don’t. I think that counts as prayer at work. My work is related to government funding approvals. I hope I’m not violating the separation of church and state.

Eat, Pray, Work - sounds like the next hot book title. One woman's search for balance as she plods through everyday life . . . .

Bait and Switch

Speed recording cameras mounted on pick-up trucks in work zones – an ingenious revenue generating vehicle.

Six months ago, signs went up in the beltway construction zone near my exit. Warning Signs adorned with orange flags announced: “Caution Work Zone, Speed Limit Radar Enforced.” The local paper even reported on this new clandestine ‘pick-up truck method’ of traffic enforcement.

The speed limit? 65 miles per hour. Ridiculous, I thought . With all the jersey walls and orange cones, how many people will be caught going 10 miles an hour over that limit. The rubbernecking alone will keep the traffic at a reasonable pace.

Little did I know a bait and switch was in the works. This week,
the signs have a slight alteration. The speed limit reads: 50
The reduced speed will be a safer work environment for the construction crews, but it may take a while for routine travelers
to notice the subtle difference.

More revenue for the county. Perhaps it will refill the budget deficit resulting from all the snow removal expenses this winter.

Tax Day - Thelma and Louise Style

A country strapped for cash, paid postal workers overtime to accept envelopes containing income tax returns as late at 11:59 PM last night. I saw it on the late night news. In some locations, sudo drive-thrus emerged. Embarrassed, and not-so-embarrassed, last minute filers rolled up to the curb to hand envelopes through car windows to waiting postal workers, those lucky enough to snag an overtime shift in this slow economy.

The income tax return deadline is not like Easter, Thanksgiving or Presidents Day - a mobile holiday. This annual civic duty falls on the same day every year – like Christmas, the 4th of July and New Year’s Day. Planning to meet this deadline, while it is still daylight, might be an idea to embrace.

Help me understand. What’s the attraction to the last minute filing? You gain nothing by banking your money until the April 15th. In 2009, there’s no interest income to earn. Take your money out from under the mattress and just turn it over to the IRS.

I suppose some folks dread the annual reconciliation exercise, in the same way they dread going to the dentist. Personally, I subscribe to the “just get it over with” philosophy. The sooner its over, the sooner you can forget about it (until next year).

Perhaps some enjoy keeping the IRS at bay until the last possible moment. I swear I saw Thelma and Louise on the news last night. Heads thrown back, laughing at the stars, as they sped away from the Post Office at the stroke of midnight.

To all the April 15th Postal Drive-Thru patrons: I want to know - what makes you tick? Are you deadline averse? Do you fear the dentist chair? Are you the Thelma and Louise type? Please share. What makes you do it?

Hope for a Monstrosity You Can Live With

Time has proven that change is generally good for us, whether that change is in our national government, in our cities or in our own backyards.

My neighbors in Towson, Maryland are up in arms over a proposed expansion of the sports arena at Towson University. The planned “monstrosity” (as a friend refers to it) looms over a nearby residential neighborhood, one where I use to live. The University President spoke at a gathering last night, reminding attendees that TU has been a good neighbor over the decades. He implied it was time for local residents to be a little more neighborly in return.

Someone really needs to have a little chat with that man. The old “you catch more bees with honey” speech might do him some good right about now.

That said, sports is big business. Our economy needs jobs and companies willing to invest in the future. Here, we have a strong local institution that is expanding rather than shrinking. Perhaps they should build this new grand arena, but who am I to say? It’s not in my back yard.

I don't think the real issue is about whether the arena expansion is a good idea. I think the real issue is about being heard. So often, people push their own agendas, rather than considering compromises that address valid concerns. In the end, I believe the greater good of economic stimulation will prevail. I just hope the neighbors end up with a monstrosity they can live with.

There’s a petition circulating to stop TU. I’ll probably sign it – in solidarity with my former neighbors. But I can’t help thinking about a story I heard last week.

A friend shared how an elderly relative, a native Baltimorean, was up in arms 25 years ago over a proposed new development in downtown Baltimore. She couldn’t understand why everyone wanted to renovate the Inner Harbor. She thought the proposed National Aquarium was a ridiculous notion. “If I want to see fish – I’ll go to Woolworths!” she said.

"Oh, the Thinks You Can Think!"

My children will tell you, I do not quote scripture and I do not quote politicians. But many times, they have heard me quote lines from songs or children’s books, to reinforce values and lessons. I do also quote myself from time to time, as in “because I said so.”

My children are just about grown, but today’s historic events, had me yearning to dig a Dr. Seuss book from my dusty collection.
“Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!” came to mind, as I watched
Barack Obama take the oath of office and speak of hope, opportunities and unity of purpose.

I am filled with pride and encouragement for our nation and our people. Today, President Obama reminded us of who we are and how far we have traveled. He reminded Americans, both Republican and Democrat, that nothing is impossible. Look what we can do, if we just put our mind to it.

“Oh the thinks you can think up if only you try!”

You are never too young or too old to heed that reminder.

When President Obama said, “the time has come to set aside childish things,” certainly he did not mean Dr. Seuss. Today, you should remind your children, whether they be toddlers or teens:

“THINK! You can think any think that you wish!”

What a day, and a lesson, for the history books.

Forget the Slots, I Have Another Plan

Today I watched the most pathetic attempt at parallel parking. It was painful really. Made me think – we should re-qualify people to parallel park, annually. Heck, drivers should be periodically required to prove they actually know how to drive a car.

Think about it. Many professions require completion of continuing education to guarantee proficiency over the years. Yet, we hand some teenager a driver’s license and they are good-to-go for life?!

Think about your elderly loved ones. All eventually reach a stage when they have no business being behind the wheel, but no one has the guts to tell them. Who dares to ask Grandpa to hand over the keys? Not I.

Think about the increase in state revenue, from the re-take fees alone! We don’t need slots in Maryland, just driver recertification. It’s a brilliant financial plan really. It would create jobs, generate revenue, increase safety on our roadways.

It’s something to think about . . . .

Mystery of the Disappearing Mailboxes

Someone please explain the mystery of the disappearing mailboxes. What brilliant bureaucrat decided a swift and stealthy removal was necessary?

In case you are reading this from afar, I live in Baltimore. Towson to be exact. Our local U.S. Post Office decided to remove some 30 blue steel mailboxes from perches in neighborhoods around town. They simply disappeared. Overnight. No warning. No discussions. No community meetings. Just gone.

Don’t get me wrong – I applaud their effort to reduce wasteful spending. Apparently many of these boxes were underutilized. I support attempts to conserve gasoline resources and reduce vehicle emissions. No more driving around town to empty these mailboxes twice a day. The decision for a covert removal is where my problem lies. Are we 3 years old? Do you have to hide the pacifier to wean us?

The brilliant bureaucrat who devised this plan was right in one respect. Residents were not going to like it. People were going to stomp their feet, whine a little, and perhaps cry. Hey buddy - you work for the Federal Government, is this something new? You couldn’t come up with a better plan than tip toe into the nursery and snatch the security blanket from the crib?

If you don’t want us to act like 3-year olds, don’t treat us like 3-year olds. We get it. We can do the math. We understand the economics of “reduce.” It would have been nice if someone had given us a little notice. Or (gasp) given us a voice in the decision-making process.

Next time, just put on your big boy panties please and treat us like adults.