Man about the house

We decided this time to concentrate on a man’s use around the house, though in my case you will not be thinking Super-Paul by end of this article. I look at the qualities of Super-Bob and think, whatever happened to this UK male?


Not that I am totally useless. I am good at cleaning and tidying up. The two qualities I really excel at are shopping and understanding instructions. With shopping I always have the right change ready for the checkout person before they ring the items through. Such is my number crunching ability that it automatically tally’s in my head. Similarly, I only have to read instructions once to have an understanding of them. However, it is at this stage that I begin to fail.

My cooking skills are reasonable, save for including treble the prescribed amount of baking powder in cakes. My gardening skills excellent for visitors who appreciate a colourful array of weeds. (How was I to know?) My washing skills are unique in creating a not appreciated multi-coloured wardrobe.

At DIY, I am a nightmare. My CV in this area includes the replacement of a door. The replacement was so large that I had to knock half of the wall away to rebuild the enlarged doorframe. It actually never occurred to me to exchange the door for a smaller size. Another task was to place a cabinet on the bathroom wall. Hitting my thumb instead of the nail resulted in me dropping the cabinet, which broke the cold water pipe, showering my partner (who was bathing at the time) with cold water.

However the crowning event was when I was asked to cut a net curtain rail for a window in the hallway. With there being no even surface I decided to sit on the stairs and use my knee as a bench. It was not until a small river of blood began to run down the stairs (and didn’t I get into trouble for that!) that the error occurred to me. At the point where my partner said “I can see your bone,” I left the conscious world only to be woken by the pain of a nurse sewing the limb on again.

Thus it can be seen that I may not make the ideal addition to a household. However, I do have some uses….. honest.

The Brit

Another day, another post. Someone left a comment, notice I'm not naming names here, wanting to see my truck's butt. Who am I to deny the simple pleasures of life to a fellow web surfer?

Now, down to business, which is really the Brit's area of expertize, but I at least try to hold up my end of the blog. Today's topic is men at home. I would guess that means, what it's like to work at home. Of course, in my case it means working at home, around the home, and, far too often, on the home.

To give a brief background on how I arrived at this situation, I'll start near the middle of the story, which is the pertinent part. A few years back, while I was in between jobs, the thought crossed my mind that writing things people can read would be more fun than writing stuff for consumption by computers. Working out the finances, it turned out that after taxes on my part of the family income, and if I did most of the things we paid other people to do so my wife and I could both work, it was a break even deal. So I became ...

Super Bob! At any moment in time I could shift identities and be: Chauffeur Bob, Janitor Bob, Handyman Bob, House Keeper Bob, Chef Bob (the one I'm best at,) Exterminator Bob, Shopper Bob, Lawn Care Bob, Errand Boy Bob, Auto-mechanic Bob, Interior Decorator Bob, and, last but far from least, Pet Care Bob. At least we didn't have a swimming pool. However, even though I had heard from women all my life just how difficult this multiple personality role is, through some joke by the Powers That Be, as it turns out, I'm good at it. I kept a reasonably clean house, a tidy lawn, dropped our food bill by half while improving the quality of our diet considerably, shepherded our son from seventh grade through high school, and still found time to write a big stack of short stories and a novel.

Life was good. Then a sudden death in the family left the farm down the road without a farmer, and the big old plantation house without a caretaker. In an ultra-secret, confidential, closed door meeting of all the important family members, to which my invitation arrived a day late, it was decided by unanimous vote that I would be promoted to farmer, in addition to my other duties.

What was not mentioned up front was that in addition to Farmer Bob, I now had to be Lumberjack Bob, Tractor Mechanic Bob, Tour Guide Bob (the old part of the house is very historic,) Game Warden Bob and Sheriff Bob (people keep sneaking onto our property to hunt and / or go off roading without permission,) and Caterer Bob (now that we have room, we throw some big parties.)

It took a year or four to get the hang of the extra powers, but they're under control now, for the most part. Thus, while I spent a couple of hours before dawn catching up on email and reading some blogs, did the shopping for the weekend meals, scrubbed the bath, kitchen, and living room in anticipation of my son's visit this evening (along with his future wife,) shopped for an elderly friend of the family who is just recovered from a broken hip, stacked some more firewood on the porch, and played care taker and referee to these monsters (and the three cats not shown), I still found time to get this post ready.


So, you can call me Bob, you can call me Farmer Bob, or you can call me Super Bob - the Wise, Lord and Master of My Domain and Domestic Duties and Pets, He Who (after cooking the evening meal, serving, stuffing the dirty dishes in the washer, all the while making small talk to entertain His guests) Shall Drink Heavily and Relax!

the Grit

Halloweeeeeeen is coming!

About two thousand five hundred years ago (a little before my time), on the last day of October, all the disembodied spirits of the dead would rise up from the afterlife and seek out living bodies that they could possess. Of course, the Celtic people from the UK soon got wise to the annual event. They decided that the best way to protect themselves was to dress up in scary and ghoulish costumes, wait behind the tombstones, and jump out when the spirits came, scaring the living daylights (or should that be dying nightlights) out of them. The ceremony has continued to this day.

Traditionally, we have children roaming the streets in ghostly attire, yelling “trick or treat” at anyone who they could find. If not happily satisfied with the odd coin or handful of sweets there was certainly a trick in store, but it was all in good fun. Farmers danced happily danced in their fields as the sale of pumpkins soared, even though most of them were to be transformed into scary orange heads, with flickering candles bringing them to life, and placed in the window to scare the “treaters” away. Even the cooking for the day was made to resemble the kind of food that ghouls would feast upon, and houses transformed into afterlife caves.

Of course, the fun bit when one was older came last thing on that night, just before the clock struck twelve. I would slip into bed beside my partner and roll towards her, only to find myself confronted with a scary mask (at least I think it was a mask!).

Alas, although the custom continues here, the pleasure has been somewhat dimmed for children of today, because of the dangers that young children face in this modern world. Why can’t the world allow children the freedom of childhood to enjoy these adventures the way we did Grit?

The Brit

BOO!

Guess what we're writing about now ;)

Halloween, the lost holiday of my youth. Ah, the giant bags of candy that found their way into my childish fingers. Armed with nothing more than a paper sack, a cheap costume, a few aging eggs, a bar of soap, and some shaving cream, one could run wild for one glorious night looting and pillaging. Even in the small town where I grew up, it was a simple matter to extort enough sweet treasure from the cowering residents to stay sick from sugar abuse for days.

Then some *&*^&% started putting razor blades in apples. As if one sick individual wasn't bad enough, there were so many others that considered maiming children a fun hobby, that we've lost Halloween. Sure, it's still marked on the calender, and Big Candy still uses it as a marketing tool, but the spirit is gone. In these modern times, it's all safety coated and sanitized for your protection. There's no edge, no adventure, no fun. Parents can't stand on the corner and chat while their progeny hit up a block. Now they have to tag along to every single house, and then they have to inspect your loot!

Of course, that's also the reason the offerings are so poor. With your parents watching over your shoulder, how can you and the horde get the message across to the health Nazis who hand out tiny boxes of raisins instead of huge chocolate bars? Face it, adult supervision tends to cut down on your chances of egging this type of spoil sport into understanding the true meaning of Halloween. Trick or treat. That battle cry held power in my day. Now, it translates as , "Treat please." Our children have been reduced from conquering warriors, to trembling beggars, and it breaks my heart.

the Grit

Next on the hit parade is to rag about health care. Sorry Brit, but I don't really have any complaints. I know, everyone is supposed to have some pet peeve about HMO's or some Big Evil Drug Company, but I really don't. Not that I am complaining about not having any complaints, at least I don't think I am?

So let us delve into this a bit deeper. I've heard much over the past few years about how great the socialized health care system of our Northern neighbors is. Actually, my wife and I spent a couple of years in Canada, and the health care was, for us, great. Of course, that was because we didn't get sick and weren't making much money. Considering the waiting time for any advanced service in The Great White North - like MRIs, surgery, chemo therapy, transplants, and the like - if we had needed any of this, we would have been back home in the States before we got them. If we had been making even a modest amount of money, we would have paid for those services through the exorbitant tax rate, for who ever was lucky enough to be at the top of the list.

Here, in the good old US of A, instead of letting the government have control of this complicated, and very personal, process, we figure most people can do better making their own decisions. Of course, this leaves the poor and stupid in a bad spot, as proponents of Big Brother Health Care are quick to point out, although not in those exact terms. To which I say, all the more reason not to be poor and/or stupid.

Allow me to phrase this in personal terms. My wife and I are not wealthy, in monetary terms anyway. Still, we manage to pay for our health insurance, an HMO plan by the way. I will admit that it's not cheep, costing roughly what the payments on a new car would. This is why we are driving older vehicles, like my truck shown here. Of course, I know people who don't have health insurance and bitch about why the government isn't doing anything to help, but who are driving fancy new cars. While they are obviously not poor, I believe I mentioned stupid? This is because they have, not only made a stupid choice of where to spend their money, but also because they haven't thought about what it would cost them, personally, to have government provided health care.

Really people, who do you honestly think is going to give you the best service for your medical dollar, your doctor or the Government? Last time I visited my doctor, I arrived ten minutes early (traffic was better than I expected) and had to wait five minutes to get into the examination room. There I was seen by a nurse immediately, to take a blood sample and my blood pressure. The Doc came by in another ten minutes, checked me out, and spent several minutes advising me about what I needed to do to improve my general health. We even took time to exchange family gossip and a joke or two. My last dealing with the Government was to renew my driver's license. Picking an off day of the week, at a time most people are working (one of the benefits of farming), I spent 20 minutes standing in line to find out which line I needed to stand in for several hours to have my picture taken.

While my experience with the Department of Motor Vehicles is what people in the US who either can't, or won't, afford medical insurance face if they get sick and have to seek treatment at an Emergency Room, I see absolutely no reason to inflict it on the rest of us.

the Grit

National Health Service


How about this free National Health Service Grit? In the early 1900’s the Labour (Socialist) party introduced a National Health Service with the premise that healthcare should be freely available to all, regardless of social class, creed or ethnic origin. This idea worked reasonably well for decades, despite attempts by consecutive governments to erode this ethos.

One would have thought that, when Labour returned to power in 1997, they would work to restore the NHS back to its founding principles. No, in their wisdom they decided that it should be run along the lines of a private business. So they formed each area and hospital into trusts, gave them independence of management and annual budgets, and said “there we are people, now make it work.” The result was an immediate increase in the “Chief to Indian’s” ratio and a statistical analysis of the cost of every operation and procedure. For example if, like in my case a few years ago, one needed stitches for a serious leg wound, that would cost X amount, a cold would cost Y and a heart transplant Z plus seven. Of course, all these calculations were budgeted based on averages.

Thus, they claimed to have the perfect system (you know I always worry when someone uses the word perfect in connection with financial systems). What happened? Well from year one over ninety percent of these trusts started to record significant deficits, and so it has continued. Their reaction of course has been to take the business approach and close loss making facilities. Hospital beds and wards started disappearing and services reduced.

I have worked it out that, had I sustained my leg injury today, I would only have been allocated 11 of the 16 stitches that were required. No doubt, the remaining part of the wound could be adequately dealt with by the use of parcel tape.

As expected, the government have taken a rational approach to addressing these deficits. They have reacted by reducing the amount of funds allocated (one hospital’s budget has been reduced by £15 million).

Oh Whoopee! Now you not only have to queue on a waiting list for hospital attention, you have to queue to get onto the queue that is waiting to get onto the waiting list. Perhaps this explains why the UK NHS is the envy of the world’s health services???

The Brit

Next up for discussion is royalty, as in people who are. Since we don't have any actual royals over here, I've had to expand the subject to include, "and people who get treated like." That would be our ever growing group of celebrities. These days the American public is so desperate for people to fawn over, that anyone who is, or has been, involved in any facet of the entertainment industry is treated like a born noble.

They get all sorts of perks ranging from not needing reservations at restaurants to not getting beaten by the police. That last bit comes from the recent arrest of rapper 50 Cent. There are so many things about this story that prove my point that I feel compelled to go into detail.

Let's start with some background on rap. This is a musical form in which the vocalist talks instead of sings, and which often uses a turn table as an instrument. As best I can tell, it is a spin off of square dancing, although, in the performances I've glimpsed, the groups haven't gotten the dancing part down yet.



Back to Mr. Cent and his brush with the law. It appears that, while out for a ride in his silver Lamborghini, he violated a traffic law and was pulled over by New York's finest. As it turns out (as I recall from the press reports), he had no driver's license, no proof of insurance, and no proof that he owned the car. At this point, if I had been behind the wheel, the cops would have beaten me unconscious, thrown me in jail, and impounded the car. Of course, the only way I would be driving a Lamborghini is if I had stolen it, so this reaction would be justified. However, Mr. Cent was allowed to call someone who brought proof of ownership and drove 50 away.

Other things in this affair reek of royalty. How can someone who can't afford more than half a dollar for a name, come up with over $100,000 for a car? Why can't he afford car insurance? For that matter, why would anyone want an automobile with a top speed of better than 150 MPH in New York where, I've heard, the average speed of traffic is given in negative numbers?



One example doesn't prove my point, I suspect you're thinking. Then how about this woman? She just adopted an infant from some country in Africa. If there isn't a royalty factor at work, then explain how someone who dresses like that in public was allowed anywhere near a child, let alone given custody of said toddler. The woman doesn't even have two names! What's the child going to be called? Personally, I think that you should at least be able to provide a last name for your adopted child, and no one who wasn't expecting the royal treatment would even dare apply.



Allow me to close this out by dropping two other bits of evidence that don't even need explanation: O.J. Simpson, Michael Jackson.

the Grit

Royalty in the UK

The Royal family in the UK have no real power, although the government pays lip services to its historical role as titular head of the democracy. In today’s world, our Royalty is considered to of more value as a brand image, that being the public image of UK plc

However, the Queen and her family hold a unique position in the hearts and minds of the public. Whether we support them or not, there must be something in our genes that makes Royalty an integral part of our lives, despite the criticism and difficulties that have surrounded them in the past decade or so. Of course, they are the subject of a lot of debate between those who support the institution and those who oppose it. But proponents from both side acknowledge that if the Royal family were to cease to exist, it would somehow leave a void in our lives that could not be replaced.

They are human, although often this is not acknowledged. We do tend to treat the Royal family as the only inmates of a human zoo at times, which cannot be easy for them. Mind you, I get the impression that they probably are thinking that they have the last laugh. I can see the Queen saying, “You humble citizens may ridicule our actions sometimes, but who has the wealth and acclaim?”

Of course, there have been moves by the media to elevate celebrities to royalty status. One thinks particularly of the Beckham’s, David (the ex-English national Football team captain) and Victoria, nicknaming their house “Beckingham Palace.” But can you imagine a royal family where the king is tattooed to resemble a world map, and the queen has had boob enhancements?


I am sure that even Tony Blair, with his yearning for Presidential status, would like to be considered as an icon equivalent to the Royals, but somehow the crown just doesn’t quite fit, does it?

Others may aspire to Royal status, but none are able to even come close to emulating this unique institution.

The Brit

Well, since so many others are writing about Helium.com, the Brit and I figured this would be a good time to show off. I joined Helium in February, as Farmer Bob. Saying I've been an active member wouldn't be too great an exaggeration. Possibly, even too active if you're Jim Logan, Sr. Community Advocate. That means he has to read all the posts on the Helium Discussion Board, answer all our questions, keep track of all the requested software changes, and put up with our bad jokes. You should note that he is the Senior Advocate. Helium has at least three. That's the kind of site it is; the Community is so involved that it takes three people to keep up. While it might seem like a good business decision to just tell everyone to pipe down, they're too nice to do that. Everyone at Helium HQ either got their job because they are a pleasant person, or they like their job so much it makes them a pleasant person. Whichever, it's a great group of people.

That's not the only thing special about Helium. There's all the stuff about peer rating and knowledge bases and, well it's on their about page so read it at: http://www.helium.com/whatis/whatis However, that's not what I like about it. Helium is fun. It's fun to write short articles about things I happen to know about. Uninterrupted blocks of time to write longer pieces are hard to find, so writing on Helium fits my lifestyle perfectly. It's also fun to get paid for it ;) Besides, I like numbers and statistics, so watching the ranking of articles change is fun. It's a nice morning treat to see what's changed overnight.

Things happen a lot at night on Helium. That's the other fun thing I need to mention. There are members all over the world. Heck, the Brit is in Brittan, as you may have noticed. Besides him, I've made efriends in England, India, Pakistan, Germany, Zambia, Taiwan, Denmark, Scotland, Italy, and California (which I count as a foreign country :)

Which brings us to what is great about Helium.com; it's not just a web site, it's an experience. See for yourself: http://www.helium.com/

the Grit

During chats with Grit, Helium often comes up, which is not surprising since that is where we met. Lately, we noticed people have been posting comments about the site, so we agreed it was time for us to throw in our comments, direct from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

Like Grit, I have been a member of Helium a year or so. However, it took me longer than him to become active in the discussion boards (but then, being a farmer he has the better equipment to be able to plough through things). Now get involved daily.

With Helium, you can write on a whole range of subjects, or get to know other peoples views. You also find out how cultures and customs differ in other parts of the world, which is a great bonus. Then there is the rating feedback on what others think of your words.

However, the most fun and enjoyment is found in the discussion boards. Like Grit, I have made friends with people from other lands and, of course, this blog and friendship developed from there as well (we think is a great bonus, says he blowing our respective trumpets) What I really like about this community is that we can discuss things openly and there is always respect for other views, even when we disagree. The humour is incredible and global as well.

Another unusual aspect is how the boys and girls at Helium react. They join in the fun and really make everyone feel at home. Not only that, they actually encourage us to get involved with the development of the site, ask us to tell us where it works or does not, what we would like to see, and ask for our ideas. What Jim and the others learnt very quickly is that “we aren’t backwards in coming forwards.”

It takes a real strong and likeable bunch of people to take a product that they think is great, stick it on a platform and say to several thousand people “this is the result of our efforts, what do you think?” and then get into calm discussion with us all. Jim Logan should be running for a government post, such is the diplomacy he possesses.

It really is a great way to spend time, and I enjoy being the resident night owl. (But, unlike the bird, I have yet to master the art of rotating my head 3600)

Hello folks

Well we are up and running. The Brit and Grit wagon rolls. As Grit says, this week we are delving into politics, hence the picture of our Prime Minister and sidekick, and you can be forgiven for wondering which one is which.

Over the past month or so, instead of getting on with the job of governing the country, our Labour party has spent most of it’s time arguing about when Blair should resign. This led to MP’s then starting
to bitch amongst themselves about who should take over.

Most thought that the automatic choice would be George Brown, but now it is not so clear. Publicly, Blair and Brown are trying to appear supportive of each other, but in private, the knives are out. Brown is annoyed because apparently, when Labour first came to power, back in 1997, there was an agreement reached between him and Blair. The crux of the agreement was that Brown would allow Blair to become Prime Minister as long as he agreed to step down after a certain number of years and let Brown take over.

Whatever happened to the public vote? In the old days, which I can still remember, the Prime Minister was effectively voted for by the public, and this is how it should be. Now they have decided that it is too important an issue to be passed over to us mere mortals for a decision. I can imagine how Grit would react if George Bush was to turn round and say that he has decided to hand over the presidency to someone else, and by the way there will not be a vote.

What is worse of course is that, whilst all this infighting is going on, no one is keeping their eye on the ball in terms of running the country. George Brown is already in trouble with the IMF for overspending (and he wants to be PM?). In addition, there is talk about key parts of our National Health being sold to overseas operators to try to counteract the huge losses it is making.

We are one of the highest taxed countries in the world. Our highest rate of Income Tax is 40%. On top of this we have to pay a national insurance contribution which, when you add the employers contribution, comes to around 18% and, if that is not enough, we have to pay Value Added Tax (I think you would call that Sales tax) of 17.5% on virtually everything we buy.

So where is all this money going Mr Blair or Mr Brown, or whoever else currently has the keys to number ten?

Ah, I think I have discovered part of the answer – at least I know where £250,000 ($480,000) of it has gone. They have given it to scientists for research, and guess what they have come up with? ….


Cows' breaking wind and burping is contributing to global warming problems, says an expert.

It has been discovered that one cow emits sufficient methane gases from various orifices to fill four hundred litre bottles. The expert said that this was bad for the environment and, apparently, the gas rises into the sky and enlarges to the hole in the ozone layer. He says that the government needs to address this problem… Methinks they are too busy emitting their own gases to notice.


The Brit

Hello again. As promised, there is the other side of my house.

And now, down to business. We've chosen as this week's subject, politics. It's a dangerous subject, I know, but neither the Brit nor I can afford the air fare needed to get into a physical confrontation. Besides, I suspect that the overlap in politics between the US and Brittan is slight. However, just to be safe, I've changed my part of this to talking about politicians and why I don't trust them.

The main reason for my feeling of distrust is their constant use of sneaky language. I suspect that the root cause of this behavior stems from most of them being lawyers. That fact does little to bolster my confidence in the good faith and truthfulness of anything that comes out of their collective mouth.

What set me to thinking about this was a news item, "Budget deficit shrinks." That was a cheerful bit of information, until I got to the details. It turns out that the real news was, "US Government spends $250,000,000,000 that we don't have." The shrinking part came, not from finding some extra money stashed in Washington somewhere, but only from comparing the amount they are going to borrow to the amount they were thinking about borrowing. That, by the way, was an additional 250 billion dollars.

The information in this sneaky story came from the Congressional Budget Office, which seems reasonable. Until you go to their web site. It's not an office, it's a whole floor of offices with over 200 employees. Beyond that, they don't just do budget stuff. The two publications they're touting are, "Alternatives for Future U.S. Space Launch Capabilities" and "Recruiting, Retention, and Future Levels of Military Personnel."

Of course, many of the other Government agencies have sneaky names as well. I fail to recall the Department of Transportation ever giving me a ride, or the Department of Housing and Urban Development ever painting my house.

It's not just the department names that are sneaky. They do it with laws too. Take COBRA for example. That stands for Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act. Actually, it's a law to let people keep their existing health insurance from one job (at full price) for a period of time after their employment is terminated. Or, how about the Earned Income Tax Credit? This is a good one. Sounds like just another thing you can write off on your tax form, doesn't it? Oh no. It's a refund to low income people of taxes they didn't pay!

The best example is SSI, Social Security Insurance. I've been paying this for years, and never needed to file a claim until a few days ago. We were at a party, and I had a little too much to drink, and, apparently, according to my wife, I may have said and done a few socially unacceptable things. Later, I was thinking that we weren't going to get any free food from those people again. Then, I remembered, I have insurance for that! So I called up the local SSI office and asked to file a claim. Turns out that it doesn't have anything to do with our social life at all, it's a retirement program! Sneaky politicians.

the Grit

Hi world

I am the Brit half of this team, the sleepless one. As FB said, when we met we found that our differences of culture and location gave us a lot in common. This built a bond from which we decided to launch this blog.

To give you some idea about me, I live in the Midlands, UK, around an hour north of London straight up the M1. I spend a lot of time writing and, as FB has found out, number crunching. I do not cook much, but I have been known to visit the bottom of the odd cool beer glass, and I too smoke, though the cigarette version.

Join our journey
From here to there
Find the difference
And what we share

We’ll share our thoughts
From across the seas
And hope from where you are

Our words will please

Hello World!

I'm the Grit in this team. My sleepless partner will be around soon. We were chatting on http://www.helium.com/ about differences in things over there and down here. It sounded like a good approach for a blog, so here we are.

As a reference for my point of view, y'all should know that I live just outside Memphis, Tennessee. I farm, cook, keep the house, do the shopping, write, smoke too many cigars, and drink too much Scotch. By the way, that is one side of my house. Come back later to see the other side.

Here's our blog,
welcome to it.
We'll post more,
there's nothing to it.

Come back often,
stay up late.
There's plenty of topics,
to debate.

What are "chips,"
both there and here?
Why is Blair ending
his career?

All this and more
we'll soon discuss.
So come on back;
don't miss too much.