Friday, February 25, 2005

The cool blue wave gives you the cool blue finger

Sound Transit, civility, and my love for raunchy jokes.

Ok, ya think for a minute the ol' fart lost it, looking at the headline.

Yuppers, I will admit it. My name is Bill and I', wrong pew, sorry.

I like the ribald and joke of questionable color as well as the next person.

But I know when to tell them, and when to tone it down.

Sound Transit does not.

They musta been watching too much of that blue humor on the WB network or somesuch, to think that their current crop of radio ads is consistent with the dignity of a gub'mint agency.

Now, catchy is good, edgy is an excuse for the borderline obscene.

"We wanted to be edgy, says their spinmeister, and you are the only one that has questioned the ads" he says.

Well, ok, I guess. I wasn't questioning them, just their appropriateness for a public agency.

If you haven't heard them, let me cut and paste fer ya.

Suggesting you can do stuff on the bus, or train, or whatever with the big blue wave on it, the commercial, suggests


Like reading something good for a change…

WOMAN 2: The Pirate of Desire.

WOMAN: Or, romance novels. Sound Transit. Ride the wave.

Now, that isn't the worst, but an old magazine and paperback distributor friend of mine called them romance novels in polite company, bodice rippers in not so polite company, and many contemporary common-taters call them what they really are, female porn.

Something good for a change, indeed.

But, you say, Mark, that ain't squat. Usually takes something really outrageous to gits yer goin'.

Ok, how about this one:

RIP--Reads in part, if you didn't get that the first time.

(REFINED BRITISH ACCENT) Presenting great reads in commuting history. This week we celebrate some of the finest bumper stickers on the road.

-Beer drinkers make better lovers.

-I need someone really bad. Are you really bad?

-Your kid may be an honor student, but you're still an idiot.

-I'm not your type, I'm not inflatable.

MAN: Horn broken. Watch for finger

So, how do you know my type isn't inflatable? Huh? Gubmint been in my bedroom again? My apologies to the hoochie chicks that they gub'mint may have seen there--I thought it was a secure crib, honest.

And horn broken, watch for finger? From a public agency? Gimmeafrigginbreak.

I asked if they ran this past any of the brass, and was assured that it was reviewed and approved by Ms. Earl, Vern Stoner, both very nice folks, and the Board Chair. Who gives a hoot what a Pierce County Lawyer thinks, though.

Lets stay with the very gracious Ms. Earl, who once sat in front of me at a taping for a TV special on transportation. Not being a big fan of the agency who gives you half of what they promised, for twice the price, yet tells you that they are "on budget", with a straight face yet, I found myself kicking her chair all during the taping. Not once did she turn around and give me a dirty look. Master politician, that woman!

And Vern Stoner, her deputy, has a great long record of public service. I worked closely with his peeps when he was running Employment Security. Fine gent, and a good solid public servant.

So, did they have simultaneous brain-farts when they approved this turkey?

Believe it or not, I am seriously offended by this total lack of taste.

The blue wave gives me the blue finger, indeed.

Kid again, purchasing his first car. More car tax stories for ya

So, the kid, being a chip off the old block-head, cuts a sweet deal on a car.

Didn't steal it, mind you, just found a willing seller. I drove the chick-magnet, and it was pretty sweet, however the clutch seemed near the end of its useful life. So, I tells junior, "Hey, maybe you want to mention it, and how $600-$800 bucks this soon after purchase is a bit much for the old college kid, yada, yada" Bottom line, will ya take $200 less than yer askin'.

It was really fairly priced, but Honda clutches are not, so it was a reasonable request, and a deal was struck between a willing buyer, and a willing seller.

Thas' what I learnt in economics class, as best my foggy mind recalls. A sale at arms length, between a willing buyer and a willing seller sets the price. Yup, musta been awake that day, instead of nodding off. How was I to know that tall slender drink-o-water teaching would return when we were both much older, to be president of the university????? WSU, for those who don't know.

So, junior gets an official bill of sale, all legal like, and trots down to his friendly local licensing place to make a legal and timely transfer of title. If ya gonna be a cop, you should set a good example, and the kid, having taken leave of his senses, made that choice.

The nice lady behind the counter, not appearing to be a tool of the gub'mint, says, hey, sonny, you got a hella buy on that pimp ride. Even though you paid $4200 dead presidents, the state-o-wa is gonna give you the privilege of unjustly enriching them by paying tax on $6400, or some such.

Uh, the kid sez, being of sharp mental ability like his ol' man, that would cost me over a hundred bucks more than it should. Wassup with that?

The state, enjoying bending over the sheeples to give them their just desserts, has a "range" for what cars should cost. Seems that bottom range for this ride is $4250. If he would have paid 50 bucks more, he could have saved more than $100 in sales tax. Now, how does that help the state???? Oh, yeah. Diane Sharpe's law--don't look for logic where there is none.

She gleefully explains that if he would have LIED, and had a bill of sale for $50 bucks more, it would be no sweat, and he would pay tax on the sale amount.

So, junior says, WTF (maybe I said that, junior is too polite to say that), and goes and finds the guy and gets a phony bill of sale.

Now, will the state-o-wa go to H-E-double hockey sticks for encouraging lying? I sure hope so.

It is that damn depreciation schedule coming back to bite yer butt, that is what it is.

Lets kill the sucker, and bury it so deep it doesn't rear its ugly head again, and thereby encourage our young that honesty pays.

Not that lying pays, which is the lesson of the bureaucracy.

Shame on them.

$30 tabs? Not for long!

Now, the gub'mint, they like that car tab tax. Along comes Tim-meister of Muk-a-muk, writes up a fancy initiative, and the sheeples tell the gub'mint no more expensive tabs.

Well, methinks that the sheeples mind not so much paying a reasonable amount for car tabs, but they don't like the gub'mint lying to them.

Reasonable, to my twisted mind, anyway.

This thing called the depreciation table, on which car tab tax was based, had about as much relation to reality as does Villi and Mary Kay.

It way overvalued cars, and their tax.

The sheeples said, horsepuckey, and be gone with you, and so it was in the territories.

Then comes the old smokey backrooms in Olytown, with the bureaucrats saying, "drat, the sheeples are on to us. But we are NEVER ever wrong, therefore we will find another way to bend them over".

Sure enough, under the guise of the poor cities and counties, and their crumbling roads, there is a bill to institute a local "option" car tab tax of only $25--this year that is, going on up to $35, once the gub'mint distracts the poor sheeples in a couple of years.

Yuppers, I am sure they can use the money, but have you taken a look-see at your property tax statement? The part that says "county road tax"? Go ahead and get it, I will wait.

You say, jumping gehosifat, there sure looks as if I pay them folks plenty for the potholes out in front of the house, howcome they need more money?

Well, this curmudgeon thinks that the gub'mint doesn't like to be told what to do by the sheeples, and this is the gub'mint's way of getting back in your pocketbook.

I report, you decide.

(apologies to Fox News)

Friday, February 18, 2005

Kid, Redux

Well, after trashing my baby yesterday about moving to Minn., and working at Wal-Mart, I must admit I did raise up a fine young man.

He showed the good taste to ask the old man to check out a car that he wanted to buy. Now, I am not a mechanic, but used to wash cars when I was 14 and 15 for my scoutmaster, who, convienently, owned the Ford dealership in beautiful downtown Gig Harbor. Ears open, mouth shut, and you learn some stuff.

Oh, and since the title says "gub'mint foibles", I should point out that no children were harmed in that activity, which you must be 18 to do now, nor was I harmed picking strawberries when I was 10 and 11, a fact which again, the gub'mint, in an effort to create and perpetuate the entitlement class, has prohibited to kids. Wonder what they know that they find they must protect us from about that. Oh, yeah, that work has its rewards. For if we all had a good work ethic, then there would be far fewer dispensers of our tax money employed, now, wouldn't there. But I digress, and rant.

So, the kid is now a proud owner, along with BECU, of a cute silver Civic, even has a hole in the roof. Not a chick magnet, furshure, but it should serve him well, and of course papa is happy that he thinks enough of my opinion to ask me to check it out.

Thursday, February 17, 2005


Yea, even though they are 21, they are kids.

So, my baby tells me today that after 4 years of college, he wants some "time off", and is moving to Minn. for reasons unknown.

Wants to be a street cop, but instead, is gonna go play with the hoochie-chick, and do what? Work at Wal-Mart?

Ah, children. But as the boy sez, "Don't parent me! I don't need parenting. You do".

Thas' 'm boy.

Gotta love 'em.

The Geezer hisself--A man's place is in the kitchen

The Geezer Posted by Hello

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Working Poor in the 2/9 Pee-Eye Fish-wrapper

Now, we all remember some time when we were the working poor, but I suspect we "owned" what we were doing, and had a plan for a way out of where we were.

This would have been an even better article if they took that poor Lake Stevens single mother (which is NOT a badge of honor, by the way) and made her more accountable. Hell, if her old boyfriend is paying the rent, and you and I are paying for her daycare via welfare, then why the hell doesn't she get along well on the 21K she claims to make for the rest of her expenses?

And since when do those ER tech folks make less than 12-14 bucks an hour, which, full time like the rest of us work, comes out to more than the 21K she claims to make.

Nowhere is the obvious solution for her mentioned, give the kids to their father to raise, if she can't raise them.

Nice sob story, but why on earth did the author of that piece not ask enough questions to get the whole picture?

Perhaps that poor single mother would not look so poor and downtrodden, if ya took the time to "do the math".

So, tomorrow they gonna explain why she has two young kids if she can't support them? Is she getting (tax free) child support, which would add another $6K (pre-tax about $9K) to her income? And how about the $ 3K or so in tax relief for being head of household?

Now, even giving a break for $21K being full time wages, add the $72oo the squeezie-poo pays for rent, the $3K tax relief, and about $6K (non-taxable) child support, and what--$4K in childcare relief, lemme see, that totals--enter calculator sound here--$37,200 per year.

If she needs financial advice on how to raise two kids on that amount, I will help her out, and show her how to live like a queen--no, welfare wasn't in there preceeding queen, but I know you read it that way anyway. Sorry, but nary a tear is shed here, as when you look at the rest of the story (apologies to you, Paul), she ain't rollin' in it, but she is a far cry from the "working poor".

And why does she need a "near new" car at 19% interest? Why couldn't she pay cash for a $1500 car, like I have been driving for the last three years, with great results?