Kid Stuff

As previously mentioned I did a dog transport yesterday. I admit, I'm weak, I wish I could keep them all but at least I know that they're going to safety in either a foster home or their forever home so it's easier to let go of them. Yesterday I had the pleasure of sharing a car ride with a 5 month old puppy and a young adult dog, probably about a year old, maybe a little older. They were both VERY GOOD BOYS. They were truly delightful to be around but I realized something about myself yesterday.

I've never been a fan of human babies, first of all, they leak from both ends and that's just the BEGINNING of my issues with them. I don't like their chubby little thighs or cheeks, I don't think their little pincer type fingers are adorable. I don't "get" them. I don't "get" babies or all the fuss surrounding them…hence I've never had any. Don't get me wrong I don't like kids in general but once a kid at least gets to an age where they can go potty on their own (and if the need me there to wipe them or pull their pants up then it doesn't count…sorry) and maybe even have a bit of a conversation things do get better. That's not to say that I love every 8 or 9 year old because that is often an ugly age personality-wise but at least if you tell them to buzz off you can tell them why.

I've always known those things about myself but I didn't realize there was some cross-species synchronicity until yesterday. Who can resist a puppy right? The puppy I transported was no different, he was ADORABLE, truly a little gentleman, he curled up in a little puppy bundle on the floor of the backseat of my car and never said a peep the whole trip. He was sweet and adorable and good there is no doubt about it. But the youn adult dog really had me. I have to say that if I had to pick one of those dogs to bring home with me it would've been the adult. Odd, right? All 3 of my dogs are rescues and none were a puppy when we brought them home; my oldest (now 12) was about 9 or 10 months old when I got her, our male dog (now 9) was a year and a half when we carted his stinky butt home from the shelter and our youngest (3ish?) was about 6-7 months when she joined the pack. There's something about that young adultness that was appealing to me. They were all housebroken (that's a good thing) and were all something MORE than a puppy. Puppies are silly and cute and kinda fall over themselves, dogs are a tad more dignified. If, for some reason I HAD to have a puppy instead of an adult dog I certainly would love it like crazy and all that but I realized yesterday that I really do like that young adult mentality even in dogs.

The dog (as opposed to the puppy) did something so cute and sweet while I was driving, we had been on the road for about an hour and had about half an hour left, he had spent most of the ride happily watching the world roll by from the backseat of the car but he must've gotten bored and put his front paws on the console in the front seat and then he gently just leaned his head against my cheek for a while. There was something so sweet and almost mature about that gesture, a gentle "thank you" for taking care of him. Puppies are still too new, they don't know "thank you" yet and they don't have to…THEY'RE PUPPIES, people are going coo over them no matter what.

This made me think of kittens; my friend has two kittens. They're adorable, but they're EVIL. They've destroyed her dining room curtains by literally swinging from them like a couple of swashbuckling pirates swooping down on their unsuspecting prey which could be anything on the dining room table. They're cute but they aren't cats. A cat will curl up and purr in your lap and make you feel like all is right with the world a kitten will do that for a minute, maybe two, before they suddenly jump up and take an unsuspecting swipe at your nose and dart out of sight.

It was nice that a beautiful ride spent with two lovely, well-behaved animals could lead to such a profound moment of self-discovery…keep those BABIES away from me (and yes, puppies and kittens also seem to have occasion to leak from both ends…same as human babies)!

Good Deeds

If this were a thesis the statement would go something like this: "Trendy businesses attract more socially aware clientele than non-trendy businesses" which would then be followed by proof of that thesis. You'd have to determine what defines a "trendy business" vs. a "non-trendy business" and what defines "more socially aware". Thankfully my days of writing thesis papers are behind me (for now…who knows what dopey college moves I'll decide to make in the future) so this crazy statement doesn't need to be proven for me to make it and stand by it.

There's a trendy new coffee shop near me. It only serves coffee and some trendy pastries, some flat bagels spread with awesome fig butter mixed up on-site. There is no tea on the menu and I think there's only one decaf coffee, there are no lattes capuccinos or other fancy coffee beverages, they offer two Iced Coffee selections. There are no seats and no WiFi. They currently have just two locations; the first one is literally in a shed, a very nice shed but a shed nonetheless. The line snakes out the door and that's for 3 or more people. Their second location isn't much bigger though it isn't a shed it's a small space carved out of the corner of a paint store and a plumbing supply store. The employees are all young and beautiful; they have lovely skin.

Apparently in the world of upscale, trendy coffee there are only two ways to make it, French press or "hand poured", hand poured means you pour water of a specific temperature in a circular motion over freshly ground beans. This place uses that method, there are no coffee pots sitting around growing stale as the day goes on. Each hot cup of coffee is brewed when it's ordered. There are pre-measured tins of beans that are ground when someone orders that blend, then they are expertly packed into a filter and the hot water is poured over the beans and the perfect cup of coffee drips down into the awaiting cup. I like coffee and always have but this coffee is no ordinary stuff; I have to say that every person who goes there because of all they've heard comes away raving about the place, it changes how you feel about coffee. Their iced coffee tastes almost like a milk shake and I take mine with just plain milk and two equals but somehow that translates to something creamy and delish. A cup of coffee there is NOT cheap but probably no more than Starbucks.

They have a cute little blackboard propped up over the counter where they put adorable sayings or thought provoking questions (in the movie of the story of YOUR LIFE, what actor or actress would play you and why). Of course you don't have to answer the question but it usually starts a lively discussion while you wait for you fresh brewed, hand poured beverage.

Yup, it's trendy, made even more so by how rare it is…only two small locations.

On Sunday I usually go and get an iced coffee for me and some kind of hot coffee for hubby. This past Sunday I had to do a rescue dog transport. It's a "rescue railroad", volunteers take dogs from high kill situations (usually in the Southern states) and move them to either a forever home or a foster home (to safety basically). The trip is usually broken up into legs so that no one person is driving from So. Carolina to Massachusetts, I was driving from NJ to CT. I walked in and they started to make my regular iced coffee and asked what was for hubby, "Nuthin'" they gasped. I explained that I was hittin' the road for rescue and so he was on his own for coffee that day. They laughed.

I asked if Amy came by on her way to NYC, yes she did. Where was Amy going? Oh she was doing the Lincoln Tunnel Run for Special Olympics, she's a special ed teacher. It seemed like a lot of the regular clientele were dropping by on their way to doing some socially aware thing on a Sunday.

So, do trendy places like that attract a more socially aware clientele? I don't know and my investigation ends here with the knowledge that Amy and I both stopped there on our way to doing something fun for ourselves that would benefit someone else.

Anyway, they do have great coffee, so maybe the next thesis statement would be, "really great coffee inspires a generous lifestyle" J

Ten Years

It was ten years ago this week that I moved into the home of my dreams. It isn't big or fancy. It's old and 10 years ago it needed A TON of work…it needs less work now but still needs work (both bathrooms and the kitchen).

The day I moved in may also still be the most romantic day of my life.

My significant other at the time actually moved us in. I bought the house, I closed on the house on March 28^th and we had been working on the house for nearly a month so we could move in, in the meantime we were living in his small apartment a quarter of a mile down the road. He would come here during the day (he worked nights bartending) and paint and do other prep work. Our neighbors to the left were/are an elderly couple and the wife would talk to my Significant Other ("SO") as he worked. Then there was THAT DAY. SO was talking to the neighbor, she asked when we'd actually be moving in, he said that when the house was "ready" we'd move in. She said that they'd lived in their house for more than 50 years and it still wasn't "READY" that somehow you just had to take that leap.

That was it.

I called on my way home to ask what our plan was for that night, what work we'd be getting done at "the house". He said that maybe it'd be a good night to order some Chinese food and take a night off. Okay, maybe that WAS a good idea. I got home that night to our little apartment ready to go to "the house" and put in a few hours of work. I walked in and the apartment was EMPTY. There was a desk chair and not much else in the place. The dogs weren't even there…at the time it was my rescued cattledog and his ancient rescued mutt. He spun around in that desk chair and said, "honey, let's go home…" we loaded the very few remaining things into our two cars (my 2001 Honda Civic and his Nissan Maxima) and we drove up the street. The dogs were there and he had moved everything else in that day. There was a bottle of champagne and some Chinese food waiting for us. We were home. That was it.

Ten years later and we're married for nearly 7 years. His ancient mutt went to The Rainbow Bridge several years ago at the ripe old age of ~18, my cattledog is now 12 and there are two more cattledogs at 9 and 3 years old. We've replaced all the electrical, the furnace the hot water heater. We ripped up the horrible floors and refinished the original hardwood downstairs. Upstairs is laminate floors, a new linen closet, a walk-in closet in our bedroom, pull-down attic stairs and some other upgrades. The yard is fenced in and there's a deck and a patio. It's our home. It's not a McMansion but it's our home and we've been here TEN YEARS! I've never lived ANYWHERE for ten years.

I have to say that the time really did fly by. I can't believe how excited I was that first year to decorate for C'mas and looking back the house was still a friggin' disaster then but for me it was dreamy. It was a C'mas miracle to be living in this house.

So now I'll go to bed in the same home that I've gone to sleep in for ten years. We started out in the back bedroom but moved to the middle bedroom. We have all new furniture. We sleep on a $3,000 mattress now instead of that old lumpy thing we started out with. We have matching dressers and a home office that is amazing, complete with an expensive desk in a buttery yellow stain. The dogs will sleep in the places they've claimed as their own (Tuggie in bed with us, Maggie in the office on the chaise, and 12 year old Ding, the only original member of the household other than us will hunker down on her dog bed in the dining room keeping careful watch over all of us…it's her job) and I'll sigh and smile that I'm still here in the house I bought 10 years ago that looked just like my grandma's house.

Sleep tight!

I AM that asshole!

My previous post may've led you to believe that I AM that pompous asshole. I'm that intolerant person who doesn't "get" all the "common folk". That's true. That's the problem. That family in a suburb of Wichita, KS isn't the one that's out of touch…it's ME. Yes it is. If you live in Kansas (or Arkansas or Oklahoma or wherever) you've seen NYC on TV, you have some idea of what it's like, there're reference points for those people. Not for me. I've only ever lived in the armpit of NYC and Philly. I've ALWAYS been able to catch a bus into NYC within walking distance of my home. The bus route into NYC runs right past my current house…to be exact, it stops in front of my neighbor's house.

My friend was going to meet me at 4PM yoga today but she opted to go into New York and take ballet class instead since 4PM yoga was cancelled. Yup, that's how we roll here.

And that's what freaks me out. I truly don't know what it's like to live in small town America. I would imagine that for many of my fellow Americans they'd be HORRIFIED to live so close to their neighbors that they could easily see in their living room windows…but that's how close we live to our neighbors. We don't have a condo or a townhouse, we have a freestanding, single-family home but yeah, we can take a peek into our neighbors' house quite easily, by accident even and we're used to it.

On Friday I did some errands in the "sticks" of NJ and I thought, "wow, this is so spread out, maybe I could LIKE THIS!" Nah. I don't see it happening. That's just it. I truly don't know what it's like to live separate from other people. I'd actually be afraid of that feeling. I feel that kind of far-away-ness would be scary. How would someone know if anything happened to me if I didn't have a next door neighbor that was, well…NEXT DOOR?!

Sure, I've seen Mayberry, RFD but is it truly representative of small-town America? I don't know because I've never BEEN THERE!

So, yeah, I'm that asshole, I'm uninformed I think that the world is like NYC and the small places? They'd be like Philly (sorry Philly but really…own it).

My Country ‘tis of thee…

I'm a liberal. I also think I'm patriotic. But sometimes patriotism means facing some harsh realities. I don't like guns but for many years now I've heard the NRA talk about a citizen's "right to bear arms" as a right of the constitution and something not to be disputed. I didn't agree with them but as someone who wanted to, at the very least, put some stock in the words written by the founders of this country I grudgingly acknowledged that maybe, just maybe I'd have to give the NRA this one.

Then on Friday I read this article: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2012/04/23/120423fa_fact_lepore written by Jill Lepore in The New Yorker. It rocked my world. It rocked my world because it filled in the missing piece for me but it also made me sad at what the citizens of this country have become (or maybe what we've always been). Based on Ms. Lepore's research the 2^nd amendment to the constitution isn't about me being allowed to pack heat on my way to the grocery store…it's about the right to have a militia, an ORGANIZED GROUP OF CITIZENS…a MILITIA that are armed to defend against actual threats. This is far different than what the NRA has been touting since the Reagan administration. This take on it makes it clear that the founding fathers weren't expecting us to be armed to the teeth with assault weapons and semi-automatics, no they expected states to have armories stocked with weapons and ammunition at the ready for the citizens to use if the need for a militia presented itself.

The NRA uses the right to bear arms as an umbrella statement for people's overall rights. By telling people that the government is trying to rescind your right to bear arms they imply that once that goes it's a slippery slope to Nazi Germany. This fear tactic is working. I'm sorry to say this, I'm sorry to be some east coast snob but the NRA tactics of fear mongering have convinced some of the less informed citizens of this country that they are, in fact, at risk of losing all of their rights.

It's human nature to fear what you don't know or don't understand. I suspect that there are many people in this country that have had little exposure to foreigners of any kind; little exposure to people who are different from them, who are gay, or of other religious beliefs, or NO religious beliefs; little exposure to educated people or abstract thoughts about science and these things induce fear. I started to poke around the internet on Friday to learn about places I have little knowledge of; these places weren't faraway lands…they were places like Kansas and Oklahoma. Because yeah, I too fear what I don't know and can't understand. It seems that Kansas has a growing number of "ghost towns", abandoned towns where there is nothing left just the buildings, no people, they're all gone. I can't imagine that, I can't imagine there being so little commerce, so little LIFE that people have no choice but to find it elsewhere but clearly that's something that happens. Before those people left those small towns what did they know about other cultures? Other religions? Other overall beliefs? It's hard to say. Did they get that info from TV or the news?

If you consider whole towns of people diminishing down to nothing, no one left to eat cherry pie at the diner and no one left to make the cherry pie at the diner, then what? These people were "small town America" and people embraced that but with that type of isolation comes fear of what is different. Fear of the big city of urban life fear that those big city slickers are gonna strip you of your rights as an American…and you're pretty sure those fears are accurate, just look at what the NRA is telling you about what the big time politicians wanna do, they don't want to let you have guns in your home to protect your property or hunt and those rights were assured you in THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Look, I'm a pretty curious person. I do a lot of research for the sake of finding shit out and I never bothered to look into how accurate this was and I'M OPPOSED TO GUNS…d'ya think that someone who is living in a small, and getting' smaller, town is going to reach out for more info and challenge the NRA's stand? No. No they won't.

Worse than this though is our arrogance. Americans are arrogant. We are. We are fucking arrogant people. Somehow THAT'S what got bred into our DNA. We cannot be WRONG. We can't and we'd rather die arguing than admit we were wrong and LEARN FROM IT.

Sad to say that the wrong people are going to read Jill Lepore's article. People like me will read it…and admit that our former beliefs were wrong. I'm thrilled and relieved to know that what I used to believe about the 2^nd amendment is wrong but that's me. That NRA-believin', small-town livin', social conservative, right-wing person in the middle of the country is never going to read it (why would they read a snobby magazine like the New Yorker?) and if they DID read it…well, it would just provide fuel to further trash the lefty liberals who want to strip away everyone's rights.

Here's the thing people. If you expect a government to be there for you then you need to give a little on your part. As much as the arrogant people of this country would like to brandish their semi-automatic high in the air and scream from the hilltop that they don't need government…well, try to live without it. It's flawed, certainly, but it's also necessary but you have to allow it to do its job, protect the citizens, provide social programs, incur taxes to reap benefits.

I told a friend that I wanted to go on a missionary trip across America to preach the ways of diversity, to preach NO religion and a broad acceptance of differences. I don't someone to stop being a devout Christian if they really believe in that but I want them to accept me for NOT being a devout Christian and celebrate our differences. I don't need everyone to enjoy exotic foods from strange and foreign lands, but I'd like them to try some of them and then make an educated decision (personally, I'm not a fan of Indian or Thai food but I've tried them on several occasions, I've had the experience to make the decision). I want to be listened to and I want to listen. It's okay to fear what you don't know or understand but I'm so sure it's okay to continue to avoid knowing or understanding different people and lifestyles.

We're at a crossroads, we're being taunted by bullies at the NRA and they are rallying their supporters in the rank and file of American arrogance. Humility is a virtue we'd do well to learn and experience right now we have to be willing to say, "huh, maybe I was wrong about that…" and then continue to learn more and develop our own opinions and thoughts on the subject. It's one thing to say, "hey I KNOW the constitution doesn't guarantee me the right to have a stockpile of guns…but I still WANT a stockpile of guns…" it's another thing altogether to stand your ground and insist that it's your RIGHT to have that stockpile of guns.

And what is a "right" anyway? Who grants those? We talk about God-given rights…what if you don't believe in God (or god)? Who grants you rights? People say that driving is a privilege not a right…what makes that difference? How can we say that owning a semi-automatic weapon is a right? Rights are entitlements but who grants those? We are an entitled society, from what I can tell we think we have a right to EVERYTHING but when everyone thinks they have a right to everything then at some point each of us infringes on the other's rights somehow, someway. This entitlement is just arrogance in a pretty suit.

We need to wake up, we are not a nice people and the ones who claim to be the nicest, the most religious, the bestest of the best…those are the ones that show the most entitlement; the most absolute arrogance and that will be our downfall. If you can't humble yourself; not before your God (or god) but before your fellow human then you, my friend, are an arrogant fucking asshole.

Make it a goal to humbly admit you were wrong about something, tell someone directly and ask for more information. Embrace new things and admit your wrong and see how that goes. It's a start.

And most importantly, be kind to others, we're forgetting how.

Radio, Radio

I love listening to the radio. I've always been a radio gal, I believe I've even mentioned this here before. I was definitely that kid with the transistor radio tucked under her pillow at night. Transistor radios were great, they were relatively small, they were meant to be portable; you could bop along listening to your little portable radio. It was a big deal to convince my parents to buy me this expensive item as a gift but I assured them I'd take good care of it and I'd USE IT. I was known for taking good care of my stuff so that wasn't a tough sell and since I was always commandeering the giant console stereo in the living room it was a safe bet that the little transistor radio I coveted would definitely get some serious use. By indulging me my parents would be able to once again watch TV since I would no longer need the giant living room console to tune into my favorite radio station (W-A-BEATLES-C!). So there it was, my very own radio with its crackly but comforting sound pumping through the little speaker. Bliss pure bliss.

The days of that radio are long, long gone. I've run the gamut of listening devices over the years. I never got onboard the iPod train (I don't like the little wheel thingy for one). I still listen to the radio. I no longer listen to commercial radio because, well, ick. Now I listen to Sirius/XM or Pandora.

This morning as I settled into my desk at work I reached for my "radio" and realized that I had come full circle. My phone these days is a Droid Razor, it's roughly the same size as an old transistor, yes it's much lighter and thinner but the other dimensions roughly measure up to an old-style transistor. As I hit the app for Sirius and watched it load I cradled my "radio" in my palm and jettisoned back in time; once again I was holding my precious box of music in my palm waiting to find out what the DJ would serve up.

I can't look at it now without seeing that first transistor radio and remembering my old bedroom with the Sears French Provencial canopy bedroom set and the weeping willow tree outside my window. I can see it as clear as day. The slippery blue satin bedding set neatly arranged on the bed and my transistor radio waiting for me on the nightstand propped on its flimsy silver easel stand. Those were good times but so are these I suppose. Certainly I'm not young anymore or innocent but that radio still holds a world of magic in it.

Whiskey and Smokes

A friend of mine has 3 young kids. I'm friends with her because in her youth she was a fun, rockin' chick, now she's a boring mom who blathers on relentlessly on Facebook about the various antics of her kids as well as posting random questions seeking advice from other moms just like HER. This week she posted that she had to bring the candy for the Easter egg hunt on Saturday to one of her kids' schools. She had been given specific instructions NOT to bring any candy made in a factory due to the risk of exposure to various potential allergens. REALLY? Someone pointed out warnings like that SPECIFICALLY meant Hershey candies. Huh, seems that more than just Hershey makes their candy in factories but whatever.

Candy is made in FACTORIES. Do they expect her to go somewhere that makes custom candies? That would be a tad expensive for a bunch of 5 year olds to smear all over their brand new outfits, no?

At the risk of garnering the ire of my friend's mommy squad I posted "Everyday there's another reason I'm glad I don't have kids so thanks <Friend> for yet another reason to be grateful I don't have kids. Gotta go get myself a Hershey bar now…wait, I don't have kids I can afford the expensive stuff!" Interestingly (so far) my snarky comment has been ignored as more and more helpful suggestions pour in to advice my pal how to solve her candy dilemma. Lucky me to be spared the wrath of the momsters.

Of course this led to a morning chat while work-bound with one of my MANY other childfree friends about these mommy things we have no use for. We noted, as we have many times in the past, that we don't remember food allergies when we were young. Peanuts were a mainstay for most of the kids I knew, we LIVED on PB&J sandwiches, we learned to make them early and enjoyed them often. PB&J was an awesome snack on saltine crackers while watching Mr. Ed on TV or while telling ghost stories at a sleepover with my cousins. We had lunch tables quite literally dripping with peanut butter & jelly throughout my grammar school years.

What happened? Where did all these damn food allergies come from?

My friend during our morning chat was the one who suggested the title of this post, "why not just bring whiskey and smokes?" It kinda makes sense, why NOT bring whiskey and smokes? I doubt if any of the little darlings are allergic to those two items and the whiskey might just kill off any potential allergens in it's path.

So kids, let's toss a few back and light up that Lucky Strike!

Supahstar!

I'm watching some AWFUL story of Jesus the Savior (or Messiah) on some cable channel. What I want to know is WHERE'S THE SINGING? How dare someone tell the story of Jesus without SINGING.

And while we're on this subject, why do some of the actors have bad British accents and others sound like pompous Americans? I just don't think Jesus and the Apostles sounded like this, call me crazy but it doesn't exactly seem historically accurate.

Filmmakers, take note, DO NOT TELL THE JESUS STORY WITHOUT SINGING!

And remember YOU are the salt of the earth…

Library books

There's a new commercial running for an eyeglass place and it plays on the "sexy librarian" theme. It's just a close-up of a sexy woman wearing glasses and she's scolding someone for having overdue library books. That's cute but is it relevant?

Look even I don't think it's relevant. Where I live there's a pretty damn robust eLibrary system and when your two weeks of borrowing is over the book just goes away; POOF, gone. No need to return the book or books, no overdue fees, it just goes POOF.

So how much longer will the fantasy of the sexy librarian even have an audience? Not because librarians will somehow no longer be sexy but because (like bank tellers) librarians will just no longer BE. At best they will no longer be seen and they sure as shit won't be scolding you for late books.

Ahhh another porn icon consumed by technology. And so it goes!

Is that about right?

I'm on antibiotics…again. I have this recurring sinus situation which is being looked into more closely but until such time I'm back on the evil meds. This is the 3^rd different antibiotic since March 2^nd. All of them have the same words of wisdom "take with food". Great but how much food is the right amount? The words of advice are there so that your stomach doesn't implode on itself from the hideous effects of the antibiotics and I get that but how much food should I eat. I ask this because I don't eat all that much at a meal. If hubby isn't home for dinner I'm happy to have ½ a grilled salmon wrap for dinner, or maybe cream cheese and tomato on a piece of toast. Is that enough to play nicely with the antibiotic?

I admit that I've been diligently taking PRObiotics through all of this and they seem to work better than any amount of food. They actually do more than give the antibiotic a cushy landing pad, they replenish what the antibiotic is mercilessly killing off…but still, how the hell much food am I supposed to be eating?

Pondering, pondering, pondering…

When I say so

I have this problem; I get great blog ideas as soon as I shut my computer down and head to bed. Seriously, as I walk up the stairs to bed a million blog ideas start to fling themselves into my brain. For some odd reason I actually think that I'll remember these awesome ideas and translate them into a blog post the next day when I'm sitting in front of my computer. I'm convinced of this each and every night…and yet I repeat the same pattern. "Blog post? Damn, I had that great idea last night, what was it again? Oh well…"

So here I am tonight. I'm bored, Idol SUCKS this season and that's about the best offering on TV right now. It's too early to go to bed (is it? Am I sure of that one?) but where oh where are those tasty little life bytes that I want to share with the very few people who bother to stop by my blog? Where have they gone? They aren't here with me so SOMEONE must have them…

Savings and Loan

When I was in 9^th grade we all had to take a personal finance class. It was taught by this ANCIENT woman and she was MEAN. We had to learn how to write a check and how to write a deposit slip for a savings account and a checking account and how to balance our checkbook. This awesome bit of instruction happened in 1972/1973 (oh yes it did). There was no such thing as direct deposit then; no ATM machines, if you needed cash you either had to withdraw money from your savings account with a withdrawal slip or you had to write a check for "cash"; no auto-bill pay; honest, none of these things existed back then. You had to engage in the full banking experience back then. Walk in, get your paperwork in order, wait in line, all that happy hoohaa.

Today I realized I no longer know how to bank.

Since 9^th grade I've certainly forgotten far more things than I'll ever remember but I never thought those pearls of wisdom from 9^th grade would beat it out of my brain and yet…gone. They are, mostly, GONE!

I still bank at the same building I've banked at for 30+ years. I say building not bank because the bank itself has changed hands and names a few times but I still go there. The main building is Mad Men kinda retro and doesn't look like anything has changed since probably 1963; it's also a tad depressing on the rare occasion when I am forced to wander inside. I used to know all the tellers and the bank manager (she was promoted to VP just before being let go several years ago under a management change, now she does wildlife rescue) now I have NO CLUE who those people are…and there's so FEW of them. On a Friday every teller window used to be manned and a line snaked around the lobby, now it's rare to see anyone ever in there, there's only one teller on duty most days and the person who mans the desk and deals with the "BIG BANK ISSUES" travels to several branches and is only there 1 or 2 days a week.

I had to deposit a fairly large check (a settlement from my mom's estate). My first issue was to actually FIND my checkbook so I could get a pre-printed deposit slip from the back of the checks. No easy task but with minimal cursing I found it and tore out a deposit slip. I stared blankly at said deposit slip for a full minute or more. What the hell was I supposed to write on this thing? I did my best to fill in the blanks then looked at the check to be deposited and realized I wasn't exactly sure what went on the back of the check. I started by congratulating myself for knowing that SOMETHING had to go on the back. I signed my name, then wrote "For Deposit Only" because I kinda remember that had some meaning to someone…and I wrote my account number there just for grins and giggles.

A quick trip to the drive-up window and I was DONE. I proudly drove away congratulating myself for not doing anything embarrassing relative to that transaction and then I realized I was actually relieved to be done with that STRESSFUL event in my life.

I can say that I do NOT miss that banking experience, I love my direct deposit and stopping at an ATM for cash, I love auto-bill pay and all those other things that mean not going to a bank. Oh so happy for progress.