Real short post - just caught wind of a conversation, about someone who scored(?) a promising career path.

Can't help but to wonder, how many (young) candidates, who possessed better qualifications, were passed over, in favor of political correctness.  No big secret, this happens.  

Max, Part 9 - Couldn't even enter the bank lobby, without having an eye-full of that rubbish. Max grimaced at the public service poster

poster, covering the wall before him.  Overkill, at the very least - six by six, the thing hogged up.  Of course, the subject dealt with home equity loans, but the real agenda of it, wasn't about the low 6% interest rate - that is, of course, if your score qualified.  In the background, was a tropical scene - out at sea, was a yacht.  The "couple" was sitting at a small beachside table, gazing at each other, while enjoying (equally) fruity drinks.  At the bottom, written  in not so small letters, was a brief message concerning STD precautions - yeah, the term HIV wasn't used much, if at all, these days, because it ... was no longer socio-politically correct.

And why anyone would risk their home on a vaca they couldn't afford ... silly question:/  Anyway, max made his way over to a small counter, and grimaced again.  There were no deposit slips; he'd have to use one of his own - each book of 20 (not 25) checks contained one, maybe two, deposit slips.  Choosing another bank?  No point there - paper checks were about looked down upon ... merely tolerated as the stuff of oolllld people (who really need to get th ... off the planet).  Needless to say, the teller - in his or her pierced baubled glory - only managed to not sneer ... well, not too much at having to touch two slips of paper, handed to him or her.  The teller then, immediately after the transaction, gobbled hani-sani.  

And why would anyone be so germaphobe over a slip of paper, when a certain piercing proclaimed ... certain practices which weren't sanitary?  Silly question;/  Max, of course, was then treated to the usual loan pitch.  He, of course, politely declined the offer - he already had a credit card, and didn't need another.  And he certainly didn't need any "introductory rate," which could take off for mars, real quick.  

Max, Part 8 - Good touted as evil, and vice versa. Max didn't know the exact quote. Of course, he had read the New Testament, a few times, throughout his 20-some years.

Max had read alot of good non-fiction books.  He also enjoyed quality fiction as well, including classics.   That's how he and his sister were raised; when they were kids, their parents didn't have much extra money, for things, like movies and theme park tickets - or even premium tv channels - but every month, both he and sis could order a book or two from the scholastic book club.  One of the things the family did on their weekly family night was a visit to BookPlanet - where the family would shop for volumes and enjoy starting their selections over beverages and treats in the store's coffee shop.  On other family nights, they'd do other things.  Sometimes a meal at a nice restaurant; other times, various local attractions.  In short, both max and sis were blessed, and they knew it, to have been born to parents who actually enjoyed being a family.  Btw, both kids could give you, Dear Reader, an earfull of why their family situation was, sadly, not real common - both kids went to school, where classmates ... yeah.

Of course, BookPlanet had closed it's doors several years ago - couldn't compete with the on-line movie channels.  Yep, Dear Readers, while 500 years ago, the printing press made reading available to atleast the upper-middle class (in a time, where even kings were semi-literate, and so hired scribes), the 2030s was sort of the opposite.  

Max turned off his tablet.  For the last hour he had been searching e-Read for a good spy novel.  A good one, not the typical bare-chested-metro rubbish.  That sort of genre was everywhere.  Max figured it started way back, before his great grand parents' days - but he remembered when it began taking off.  As a boy, Max was into superheros - Superman, Spiderman, Captain Marvel (his folks had to replace the sofa, various tables and lamps) but their heroics became downplayed, in favor of ... weirdness.

But at least Max knew, it was okay - that he wasn't weird for not caring to purchase any of the selections he had spent the last hour browsing through.  "...good for evil...bitter for sweet..."  He'd been in the city last Tuesday; nearby, a street preacher had spoken those words.  Not that max paid the man any mind (so he thought, evidently) ; max's mind was focused on a ventilation issue.  Yep, funny how you hear something, and it seems to go in one ear, and out the other.  But not all of it - some stays.  And connects with things - things that should have been obvious, years ago.

You see, Dear Reader, our hvac hero had been experiencing some serious personal issues - the sort which this 4th rate blogger is attempting to articulate.  In short, Max is a man in his 20s - so, how does an old woman even begin to describe what a man, young or old, would think?  So, will ask the Lord to help me on this one.

Gives new meaning to "connecting the dots."

Max had to have been 12 or 13.  It had been a Saturday afternoon, when he was cutting the grass, while dad was either weed whacking, or some other sort of yard work.  Anyway, the mower quit.  Dad came over, looked at the mower, then cocked his head toward the truck.  Father and son headed over to YardWorld.  Anyway, with a new mower in back, they stopped at a mini-mart.  A car pulled up beside them, inside were three teenagers jamming to what is called music.  One got out and ran inside.  A musky smell was telling as to what the occupants had been doing.  Never mind, they looked kind of scrungy.  Anyway, to make a long story short, as dad pulled out and headed down the road, he turned to his son, and spoke a brief sentence.  

Max could not recall his Father's exact words, but suffice to say, dad said something along the lines that hanging out with "grunge heads leads nowhere."  Max could, recall, to this day, that afternoon, turning on to the highway, a turning point in his early adolescent life - Max wanted to keep on earning good grades, do things that mattered, on his journey ahead, going somewhere.

Another bad example, simpering churchian platitudes ... no wonder people head for buddism, or whatever :(

The woman giving the shirley-temple advice wasn't the one who had, whatever small amount of, money stolen - by a fffaaammily member, nor does ms.dogooder have to make do in a tiny welfare borg-unit...  ya know, walls in drab-white, tiny windows that overlook a parking lot, and no room for much of anything.

Nope, ms.mega-church do-gooder enjoys a lovely 3,000 square foot home, and of course a few grand isn't such a big deal - she and her husband had just been talking about their recent month-long trip abroad.  Which, by the way, hadn't been their first trip to another continent.  Oh, just give it another year, and there's bound to be another brag-fest.  Maybe Rome, or Paris.

Still upset about the conversation, because the lady who lives in the welfare borg was told by ms.worldtraveler to pray and not be angry...what the eff??  Sorry (NOT!!! at all sorry) but god-talk is even cheaper than new agey bs.   

Still steamed, because the whole dialog was very invalidating - oh, and not the first time my ears were treated to such.  Knew something had been very much bothering borg-lady for several months.  Borg has every right and reason to be angry, and to express outrage at having been taken advantage off - not by a stranger, but by fa-fa-ffaaamily (ugh!)  

Goes like this, if you are denied the time to be dag-bern mad, you are also denied the right, a voice, to be honest with yourself, and most importantly, denied the right, the time, to process the anger, and in a healthy (i.e., Biblical) way to get beyond it, and get to a place where you are able to forgive - and politely cut that low-down thief completely out of your life...don't call, don't send cards, just go away, and stay away.

But i get the impression that, in church, forgiveness to those who rip us off bigtime, ain't enough, we're supposed to act like the abuse never happened, and allow the mangey-wolf to just trot in and out of our lives - oh, and if another grand disappears...just pray.

Never mind, the Bible tells us - again and again, to have no fellowship with wicked people, to separate ourselves from them.

Bad example. Yesterday, while at the bank, was looking over the finance lit they had, and was thinking

if i was young, and just getting started in life...  Posted to the wall was a rack of about seven varieties of finance products.  All, but one described either loans or credit cards (loans with super interest).   There was one pamphlet which dealt with "wealth management" ... yeah, like a regular jane or joe has money to gamble in the stock market.  Not a one of those papers had anything to say about opening up a savings account or a cert of deposit - not a one.  And yeah, i get it, this is not 1985, where cd interest runs at around 5%.

Last time i saw a savings ad from a bank, was six or seven years ago; it was for a cd of 1k that paid .01 in interest - a dollar a year.  So yeah, not much incentive for the customers.  Anyway, the bank makes lots of money on loans.   So i guess they don't want to encourage joe and jane to put away even a thousand or so, here and there.  

Kenseyian(?) economics at work...i understand that guys worldview was: have a blast, there's no accountability after this life, and eff the next generation - he was a real weirdo...surprised :/

This recent anti-abortion drama ... wait, why hasn't this been resolved? It's been almost 50 years. Why suddenly now?

Yeah i get it, abortion is choosing murder.  And guess what else!  Yep, i never had to make that choice, so can only imagine what it's like to be pregnant and unmarried.  There you are, young and starting out in life, working and making enough to support yourself, but not much else.  Having a baby means time off work, medical bills, and no paycheck coming in.  You'll need clothing and other stuff for the baby, including day care - big cha-ching.  

And then, down the road, will be more time taken off from work.  In day care, even before covid, if yer kid sneezed, you'd get a call at work (probably on payroll tuesday) to come get your child.  Then there's things like doctor and dentist appointments, car repairs and such.  Needless to say, when you have a job, and want to keep it, your boss expects you to be there.

So, these are things which pregnant single women are up against.  And these things are why the US has domestic relations offices in about every county - where the staff works hard to find da-duh and make him pay.  Still, alot of mental drama ... for single mom who is trying to focus on her job, so she can keep getting her paycheck, and keep a roof over her and her child.

And now, there's talk about limiting abortion.  Why now?  Seems all of a sudden...where has been this moral-majority, over the last almost half a century?  Frankly, i cannot help but to smell an agenda - one that is directly covid related.  

"My body, my right!"  Guess that's got to go.

Oh, the boomer FANGS keepacommin out ... wow!

Seriously, some past-tense casino-lovin' codger is glad that (suppsedly) unvaxxed people are dying from covid.  Frankly, don't trust the news, too much of an agenda about it.  But the point is: wishing death on people - for no better reason, than their refusing to have questionable (if not plain creepy) stuff pumped into their bodies ... well, that's plain not nice.  He used the term "Trumpaholics."  Yep, we know where this is coming from - if ya voted for Donald Trump, and will vote for him again, if he runs ... then DIE m-effer!

It's these same sort who believe in darwinian/spencerian evolution...that is, as long as it's some other poor sucker whom "nature" deems as less fit.  Yep, the germaphobe has-beens have long hijacked, and pretzled up, (darwin's) natural evolution - ya know, what we learned in the public school...where healthy critters are the ones who find mates, and do the wow-thing...for one specific purpose: to make little critters.  The spencerian social evolution is waay more useful to the seedy-senior set, (who btw, rubbed out alot of their babies) whose money enables them to live far longer than (fallen) nature would allow.

Wanna talk godLess evolution?  Well, alrighty then!  The difference between darwinian and spencerian is: the former is natural, while the latter is man-made - i.e. FAKE...yeah, like most, sad to say, people my age, and older.

And yeah, i get it, being mid-60s, per darwinian evolution, it's time i get off the planet.  But the difference is: i believe the Bible, and trust that - when that time comes - the Lord Jesus will get me home safe.

What i'd better get, is the afternoon mail.  Bye :)

Covid is a nasty flu-bug, sorta sounds like the one

 that was making the rounds back around '01 - yep, breathing hurt.  So, did the sensible thing, called off work and stayed in bed - for about three days.  My (late) husband, who was about 11 years older than i, barely had a sniffle.  Btw, a few years later - in the spring - he got hold of something that put him down, and down hard, for an entire week, but i was fine.  Strange how colds and flu are...after all, being married, we ate at the same small kitchen table and slept right in the same bed.

Nobody masked back then, nobody was screamie-meemie-ing for mandatory vaxxes.  Back then, during the height of flu season, your 85 year old uncle albert was allowed to leave his nursing home unit to go out to lunch with a friend or family member.  

Btw, back then - atleast where my husband and i worked - our employers had a policy, that if you were out sick for 3 or more days, they wanted to see a doctor's slip.  Personally, that policy made alot of sense - after all, being sick for three days?  Uhm, yeah, after three days, and still feeling like crap, you bet i wanted to see a doctor.

Healthy people have been known to get real sick, and even die, from the flu-bug.  Back then people knew that - people knew that life ... well, it can suddenly, without warning, come to an end, but we carried on, kept the businesses open, the economy going.

While people are worried SICK about losing their jobs, ever waiting for the other covid jack boot to drop, boomers are gushing

over their latest vaca, patio-parrtah, fancy dinner, in some pricey joint - one that only seats some 60% capacity ... while the waitstaff can barely afford to feed their families hamburg-helper...ugh!  Math tip: the less tables ya serve, the less money ya make.  One of these old broads ... no wait, there were a few others...going on about hassling the meter reader or the (run ragged) HVAC person, concerning vaccines.   Why is it always women doing the grilling?  Uhm, how bout shut the heck up, and go bake some cookies!  Surely, it's not want for time?... isn't it amazing how retIred people, seem to get their cookies off in reminding, again and again, how they don't have to punch a time-clock...ya know, like the rest of you (younger) luzers.

Yeah, it's a facade alright.  Grill the 30-something waitress - because her mask looks like it's fixing to slip - while she's carrying an oversized tray.  Ya think, it might have something to do with 30-something still has a figure - while the two old biddies, sitting at the table, couldn't get a date to save their wrinkly hides?  Uhm, it's not unknown for old women to resent - big time - younger women, especially younger women who turn men's heads.  

Yes, the year is 2021, and we've our modern gear (puters and such) but we're still human, and have been so throughout our 6,000-some year history.  

Max, Part 7 - Max stared into the mug before him. He could take or leave the stuff. Seated next to him

was one of the guys in his crew.  Across the bar, the other guy, Birthday Boy, was trying to make time with some woman who didn't appear interested.   The place was run down, and probably, unintentionally  had the decor of the mid to late 1990s - including a pre-plasma video screen, that took up almost the entire corner of the bar; of course, where the quarter slot had been, was updated to accept credit.  Max glanced over at birthday boy; he didn't have a clue, obviously - the girl was looking alright, but not for a fella to buy her a drink, shoot the breeze, do a two-step to a country song, and maybe down the road...this wasn't the 1990s.

A few seats away, an old veteran - probably from the VietNam war, he looked ancient - was peeling a small game of chance ticket.  Several other slips of paper lay nearby his whiskey glass, from which he took a drink.  He declined wanting to buy any more.  Several minutes passed, he finished his drink, left some bills on the bar and opened the door to the darkening sky.  A moment or so later, as another group entered the vintage bar, from outside came the sound of a truck pulling out, on its last legs.  Max didn't know the old guy, but had seen him here and there, in that old pickup.

Birthday Boy was now seated, and drinking - like many of the other younger patrons - some sort of eerie green potion sort of thing...ugh, didn't even look drinkable, and certainly not 90s.  The person seated beside birthday, and trying to strike up a - what passes for - conversation... a he? a she?  One could only guess.

One thing for sure, Max wasn't interested in making time with anyone - period.  Besides not having the time - business was real good, he had no desire to waste any of it on people who either didn't know who they were, nor cared to find out.  In short, so much weirdness - everywhere.  And getting weirder.   As for that old latimore temperance woman - who had been quietly passing out literature during the previous farmers' fair - evidently she didn't get to town much.  But she, in her somber gray dress and ugly-shoes, knew who she was.