Customers Versus Friends And Family

My teaching and tutoring side business is finally gaining steam.

My clients are not actually the students. More accurately, my clients are the *parents*.

And this is a completely new experience for me - not teaching math, but having customers.

I must say I'm starting to really like it!

Consider this...

These parents:

•  Respect me
•  Are very much interested in my opinions
•  Do exactly what I tell them (sometimes)
•  They PAY ME!

Up until now my entire life's social interaction had been mostly with *friends and family*....and y'all know how much of a pain in the rump they can be!

I've always had very, very strong opinions and beliefs. So it's nice to finally find some people who are genuinely interested in them.

Again, this is one of the many reasons I knew we'd be better off amongst the 15 million people in the NYC area. It's just easier here to find the people and the lifestyle that suit you best.

Unquestioning Morons

My wife recently spend a long afternoon with one of her old *friends*.

Afterwards she remarked that her pal, whom she hadn't seen in ages, didn't ask a single question about what was going on with my wife and her family - this was over a period of something like 6 hours.

As far as I'm concerned, that's not exactly a *friend* or someone worthy of spending any scarce personal time with. When one half of a relationship becomes acutely aware of this kind of imbalance....I say it's definitely time to short that friendship.

We all have acquaintances that, well, don't ever initiate getting together or even make any efforts in that regard. And there is certainly some real value in maintaining skeletal relationships with old friends.  (Of course, some of these clowns need to be severed too!)

But *not asking you any questions* is a clear warning sign and not just with friends; it also applies to strangers and random people that you meet. If you're sitting there at a party or something and some self-orbiting Moron doesn't express any interest in the basics (like where you're from!)....well, I quickly cross them off my list.

I submit that it's beyond merely a sign of vanity or social retardation.

People who aren't genuinely interested in the lives of others may very well be intellectually retarded to boot. Have any of y'all ever met an incurious, closed-minded genius?

I'd like to suggest a new metric for assessing IQ.

How often do you Google?

Seriously. It's sort of a corollary to that old maxim *there's no such thing as a stupid question* which casts the kid who's afraid to raise his hand in a government school classroom.

Think about it. The WWW holds the answers to almost every basic question imaginable. Only a certified Moron would not want to tap that resource, again and again.

Plus....I myself Google stuff all day long! Ergo I'm clearly very...

HeadBook Hacking

A couple months ago I broke down and joined MyFace.com or whatever it's called.

I figured the only way to stop the meteoric rise of Facebook (it recently passed Google in the hit race) was for me to jump aboard!

So far I've reconnected with a long-lost high school friend, one of my old college roommates, and just the other day a childhood friend of mine who I haven't seen in about 20 years reached out to me. (Of course I also searched for a few chicks from my college daze...)

All that is very cool and very nice.

But I have next to no interest in checking it everyday to see the *status updates* and *likes* from my friends.

I don't know. Perhaps I would have an interest if I wasn't so swamped otherwise. As it stands, I look at it maybe once a week. And I try to scroll through my *news feed* but it won't let me go back more than a page or so - for whatever reason.

Anyways, I received a notice yesterday that someone had accessed my HeadBook account from an *unfamiliar location* - Washington DC - and that I should change my password.

Obviously, someone from the Administration had hacked into my account!

Airborne Morons

Recall my Small House, Big Boat theory. That's when you see a tiny chicken shack, perhaps in a more rural location, and just after you think how nice it would be to have THAT tiny MORTGAGE/RENT, you notice littered around the property....that whatever *shelter savings* the occupants enjoyed....that they just squandered them on a swimming pool, a camper, dirt bikes, ski-mobiles, and/or a Big Boat parked in their driveway.

It just doesn't well matter how much money American earthlings earn - invariably they spend between 98% and 110% of their income!

I had to drop something off at a relatively new friend of ours house the other day. I pulled up into the empty driveway assuming nobody was home. But the *mom* and her two daughters answered the door.

After mentioning my presumption about the empty driveway, she told me they only had *one car* - and that her husband had taken it to go to work that day. That's fine, right?

Only that one car was a BMW SUV. Furthermore, this *mom* informed me that she usually drives her husband to the commuter boat every morning at 7 FREAKIN' am. (And obviously has to pick him up each evening as well.)

So she not only has to be up and out early each morning, she also has to rouse her two daughters, ages 2 and 5, and get them into the car EVERY SINGLE MORNING.

Now, lots of people make due with one vehicle - and I applaud anyone who goes against the grain in doing so. But might they not be better served with two cars that cost as much as one BMW? I submit it's pretty cruel to put the wife and kids through this each morning when they could just buy a clunker for 2 grand that *dad* could use to shuttle the mere 3 miles from his house to the dock each day.

BUT, get this...

This *one car* family actually owns an airplane - a four-seater! - that they keep down on Cape Cod.

This is CRAZY!

They might well be the only ones on the planet who don't have more cars than planes.

Marginalizing Bad Breath

If someone hits you with their dragon breath, can you ever really look at them the same way?

I think not. And you'll keep a little more personal distance to boot. The worst is when you are at a loud bar with a stink face - because they'll invariably be up close hollering in your ear.

I brush my teeth multiple times per day. Have mints always at hand. I even keep mouthwash in the car which I utilize probably 3 times a day.

I've just always been paranoid about hitting someone with a halitotic breeze and them *not ever looking at me the same way again*.

I know - it's messed up. I generally don't care what people think one iota about my larger portfolio of folly and offense, but I do worry about what the lumpen masses might think of my breath.



So the other night, my wife, who I've been with for a total of 11 years now, made a remark about me having a$$ breath. WTF, I thought. Not me.

First of all, I'm certain it was a misdiagnosis. Secondly, there's a good chance she was messing with me. I'm by no means the only button-pusher in my household.

But still, I was agitated. If she was right, what more in the way of hygiene could I do?

In part my paranoia comes from the truism that *a dog can't smell its own*.

How could you ever really know if you were breathing fire?

They say to blow on your hand and then take a whiff.

But I've never detected anything that way - even when in sure possession of *nap-breath*.

Everyone has their stories, their personal examples.

I had to work with some Chinese grad student when I was in college. We were jammed into a tiny office for hours on end, collaborating on ginormous spreadsheets. This guy's teeth, what was left of them anyway, had probably never, ever been introduced to a toothbrush. In fact, another guy that worked with us ended up committing suicide in the middle of the project. I don't KNOW that it had to do with our working conditions, but I wouldn't be surprised - it was that bad. The deceased and I actually referred to the Chinese dude as "rat breath"!

We also had a friend in our high school clique with a serious mouth odor problem. He insisted that he didn't have to brush his teeth in the morning because *he didn't eat breakfast*!

In fact, predating that Seinfeld Smelly Car episode, that buddy of ours entire car ranked at all times. When called on it, he blamed one of us, who went swimming in the ocean and then entered his car. Yeah, it was the pristine salt water that made us gag....NOT!

When we met up again after freshman year at college, we all noticed that this buddy of ours was popping mints, one after another like a drug addict. So SOMEONE (a chick) must have told him. (Note that we went to a private all-boys Catholic school so female classmates in college were a novelty.)

Now, my poor 2.92 year old daughter has some serious bad breath. It's so bad, sometimes when your holding her you can't tell which end is up!

You'd never think such a massively rank aroma could emanate from a 23 pound little Princess - but it does. It reaches out and BITES you.

My wife, and the dentist, insist that it's from *post-nasal drip* and allergies. I've been ordered to *brush her tongue*.

If any of y'all are fighting with or subject to someone else's chronic bad breath, there are medical steps you can take.

1) Clean your tongue.
2) Chew gum.
3) Use cinnamon gum and mints.
4) Drink more water.
5) Get tested for kidney and liver failure.
6) Eat bread.
7) Get a water pick.
8) Verify your paranoia!

They're all explained here in - 8 Easy Steps to Banish Bad Breath.

If you want to mess with someone, convincingly hint to them that they have *disagreeable breath*. Don't just offer them a mint out of the blue, offer them two!

And If you really want to mess with them, recruit a couple others in their social circle to cast aspersions about stinky breath as well.

See also - Society Rests Upon Her Breath?

Socialization - Lesson 1

I submit that amongst humans:

Lemma - You don't want to be anybody's ONLY FRIEND.

These relationships never end well. A *lack of friends* always implies that something is awry - and it's only a matter of time before discovery.

Also along these lines:

Lemma - Beware of the female that has no female friends.

All of us neanderthals can appreciate the chick who's into football, drinking beer, poker, farting, around whom we generally don't have to modify our behavior...

BUT, as far as longer term, relationshippy stuff goes, in my experience a woman who can't get along with her catty gender-mates always turns out to be a bit of a whack-a-doo.

Since mass government schooling has anti-socialized most of y'all, some irreparably, I've taken it upon myself to commence socialization lessons - even if I have....like no friends myself!

But seriously, this is no joke. I could teach my kids all about history, trigonometry, and entrepreneurialism.....but if they end up smitten and married to the wrong people, their lives will surely be ruined. We've all seen it too many times, right?

Who amongst y'all has ever researched *socialization*? Or, more to the point, studied the course of your own social lives?

When it's all said and done, with whom we chose to associate with will have played a major role in our life's legacy on this overheated planet.

This facet of our lives most certainly merits serious contemplation and analysis.

I've Broken Through!

I've just received word that someone we know is going to name their son after me!

Well, I'm not 100% sure that I was the inspiration, but they do know me and they are still going with my baptized name for their newborn. And that's the first instance out of many, many possibilities.

My original name is very common; it's biblical for crying out loud. Yet, I must have ruined the name in the minds of everyone I've come into contact with because I wasn't even getting *middle name* consideration.

How many baby names did you and your spouse irrationally cross-off because of an insufferable acquaintance?

Now just think, how many others have utilized your own name. Count'em up and ponder the likelihood that you may have done unto others what you have done to them!

Meanwhile, there's probably a whole preschool army out there of Kobe's, Lebron's, and Wentworth's.

Dinner Parties Getting More Boring

Mixed company is hard enough to bear as it stands. Religion and politics have long been off-limits - along with unwhispered *male humor*.

But now, one can't even talk about the economy or the stock market. Sure, everyone wanted to converse about (their) home prices on the way up....

However now, in the Greater Depression, it's a different story. Wage slaves and ovine, passive investors would very much like to remain in complete denial about what's going on. And this goes even for those economically literate enough to have a clue about reality. So don't you dare say anything at a dinner party like *well, I don't think the market is going to bounce back* or *job losses have really JUST BEGUN*.

Nobody wants to hear that sh*t....so just sit there quietly, stuff your face, pound that wine, and stick to approved topics like: that new restaurant in town, the weather, and kindred small talk. And be grateful you're *out* for a night!

My *dinner party* behavioral policy has come full circle, sort of.

I used to swing freely, offending everyone without even realizing it.

Then, for a couple of years I experimented with personal growth and went into total *make nice* mode.

But recently I've concluded that others' sensitivities are in fact THEIR OWN PROBLEMS - not mine. I'll walk on egg shells no longer - though my jabs these days are deliberate, targeted, and more refined than in the past.

In fact, I'm pretty darn good at what I do.

Choosing Your Kids' Friends

When I was in 8th grade, our bus stopped to pick up the next pack of punks, my good friend got on and promptly ignored me. He sat far away; I approached him but he wouldn't so much as turn his head.

Nothing had really happened. I'm not one of these queer guys that has spats with his male friends - I never was. [Note that describes all the otherwise manly men of South Philadelphia. They are always having tiffs and going through *not talking to* phases with a gumba or two.]

But I could sense what was up.

Young C-Nut - What, are you no longer allowed to hang out with me?

To which I got a look-away nod of assent.

The bus stop was right in front of his house and he feared his parents watching him through the window. I felt a little upset, a little discombobulated but shook it off. Remember we were 13 years old. If this had occurred when I was younger it might have been a different story.

Mind you I had known this kid all my life. He lived only 10 homes down the street. His family was, let's just say *different*. I remember sleeping over his house back when I was five; after dinner, a nasty pot roast which his whole family referred to as *steak*, everyone, all three kids had to do their chores. I was a guest there and was astonished to be made to wash dishes! I was five!

However, what really made this family stand out from the crowd was the fact that they were passionate Christians. Born-again? I don't know. They were always having Bible study at their house; they were always starting, switching, or quitting another *church*. Everyone else, and I mean everyone else, in those parts of Central Massachusetts was a part-time or lapsed Catholic.



My buddy's apparently exasperated parents had concluded that I *was the devil* and they no longer wanted him to associate with me. Seriously, this is precisely what he told me as the bus drove out of sight of his spying parents. I was "the devil"!

The background for that specific period of time escapes me so I can't remember what may have been the catalyst for my excommunication. Though notably, the year prior me and my buddy had gotten into all sorts of trouble - we were suspended - for hacking into the school's TRS-80 ("Trash-80") computer network. I was suspended twice for crimes of this category and can't recall if my angelic friend, whom I led astray, was punished the second time.

Seventh and eighth grade were tough. The public school we attended was half *bilingual* and the rest was splintered into warring cliques. There were plenty of before-, during-, and after-school fights; rumbles even. The entire school was smoking and experimenting further down the ladder of maturity. The school may have not been scary in comparison to bigger inner city schools, but it was plenty bad enough. No well-traveled parent would be boasting, or even comfortable sending their kids there.

So given the rest of the social options, it was a little odd that I was being singled out as THE bad influence for kid who was just as bored as I was, and probably more adept at independently getting himself into trouble.

Now here I am, twenty years later a parent myself. Thinking back, I completely understand my friend's parents' actions. Without confessing any fiendish behavior I want to say I don't begrudge them one bit.

A child's friends are a most powerful influence on him. My wife and I were recently bemoaning the fact that all of our friends' kids are all a tad younger than our Prince C-Nut, and the ones close in age are all icky GIRLS.

And we want our son to socialize with not merely his age-mates, but with older kids who are presumably a good influence. This has been tough to orchestrate. Most seven year olds are not interested in hanging out with four year olds. The Prince does have one friend who's 1.5 years older but this kid, all he wants to do is watch TV. My son watches too much of the idiot box as it stands, the last thing he needs is a role model teaching him about the shows he'll graduate to.

My kids do have older cousins but they live in faraway Connecticut and Long Island. Five of the seven are typical wastoid teenagers. At family gatherings they sit and watch television. Well, actually, they do more than that. They sit there, four in a row on the couch each either texting someone or playing a hand-held video game while blaring iCarly or something in the background. No one helps with the dishes. No one is interested in playing a board game. No one dares step outside to throw a ball.

Because of the obvious distance, we don't see the cousins too often. But still, I wouldn't say they are even close to *ideal* influences for my kids and that's too bad. I remember vividly many, many things my older cousins said and did. Children really do look up to the older brats; and that's just ONE of the laws of human nature that mass schools abrogate with their *age-segregation*.

Getting back on track. The social or environmental climate we raise our kids in is pivotal; it's not something I want to mess up. Who knows how much further along my career or finances would be if I came across just one kid, when I was young, who was enterprising - who was cutting lawns or something? See - Sheep To Slaughter - if you haven't already.

And who knows how detrimental one particular charismatic friend can be for your child?



If I had my druthers, I'd surround my kids with responsible, considerate, self-motivated, older achievers. Whether they are a talented pianist, a dogged fisher, a hustling lemonade stand operator, or a voracious reader it wouldn't well matter. I don't want my brood to be subjected to a panoply of losers, kids with no oomph who're mesmerized by color TV and dependent on purchased toys for self-amusement.

I don't believe that a *strong* family can substantially offset or compete with the relentless influence of the outside world. I really don't. Think long and hard about what your life's goals were as they evolved. How many grew out of *what your parents wanted for you*? How many came from images of glitz, fame, and wealth which, without a television or peers, you'd know nothing about?

Job one is to turn the color TV off.

Job two is to homeschool - to in-source the mind control of your precious children.

And job three is to be mindful of whom your children befriend. You're probably going to have to bend over backwards, to expand your own social circle so that your kids can witness firsthand what they're capable of, and where they're headed.

I know. In this world, it's not so easy finding impressive people of character to hang out with. Finding eligible godparents for your kids was hard enough!

Can't Be Grateful

Or *gracious* - whatever the proper term.

My father brought me a $1 off coupon for Pop Tarts the other day - because he's seen the product in our house before.

CaptiousNut - Dad, I don't use coupons. There a pain in the ass.

MrNut -It's a buck off!

CaptiousNut - Do you know how many ways I can save a dollar? I'd go crazy if I exercised them all.

Yeah, I was ungrateful and a spot rude. But here's what would have happened otherwise.

My father would have started clipping not only Pop Tart coupons for me....he start scanning my house to see what other foodstuffs and products we consumed. Then he'd be bringing me piles of coupons that I still wouldn't use. I had to nip this one in the bud.

Almost ten years ago, a good friend of mine brought in some *Pasta Rosa* to work for me. He was married and apparently it was one of his wife's signature dishes (I detected Knorrs soup mix, shhhh). I was a starving bachelor - or so they thought; they probably made a big batch; etc. It was loaded with sweet sausage as well. I ate it, complimented his wife the chef, and thanked him for it.

The next thing I know, every two weeks I was getting a shipment of this pasta rosa at work. It really started to taste awful. Pasta is my favorite thing in the world. I could eat it every other day. But this wasn't worthy. So the food started to languish in my fridge.

Then my buddy started hassling me for the GladWare. Now isn't the whole point of GladWare that it doesn't have to get returned? That it's disposable?

So I'm forced to start emptying the Knorrs Soup Mix Pasta Rosa into the trash if only so I could wash and return the GladWare.

But the pasta just kept coming. Finally I had to put my foot down. All of this started by what I thought was an innocent compliment. It's been experiences like these that have conditioned me to be chary with praise and gratefulness today.

Ironically, I have another story along these lines ALSO involving sausage with my food-obsessed MIL (mother-in-law). Her meat even sent me to the emergency room one Easter weekend. Though that's a tale for another post.

On Pushing Back

So one of my wife's friends acquaintances sent her an *Obama button* via Facebook.

Mrs. C-Nut asked me how she should respond.

"Not with a reasoned argument...not intellectually," I advised her.

You can't get into it with Morons. You're never going to change a single Moron's mind - I lectured.

My policy is only to *respond* in group or forum settings. I like to lay people out - to embarrass and hector them only if there's an audience. One-on-one arguing just doesn't bring enough economic scale - enough bang for my buck. Yeah, not long ago I would often attack assorted dingbat friends and family members with facts and impertinent logic. I even naively identified a few whom I thought were disposed to enlightenment and took a more careful tack with them.

Now I'm soooo much wiser. I only engage for my own self-amusement and to mete out justice to big mouths at family dinners and on the web. Note my blog is NOT named Educating Morons!

I said to Mrs. C-Nut, here's your response to that flippant broad:

YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY, THIS OBAMA CRAP? If he's elected and passes his higher taxes it will cost our family THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS. Is our economic pain such a frivolous subject for you?!?!?!

How about one day when your salary gets cut, or when your husband gets laid off, OR when you lose money say on a real estate investment...how about I start sending you giddy messages?!?!?! How about I tell you that your husband is a bum and PROBABLY DESERVED IT? How about I tell you that you were OVERPAID TO BEGIN WITH? Or that you still have *plenty*?

Devil's Advocate - She'll say if you earn over $250,000 annually you have more than enough money; that you have no right to talk about *economic pain*.

Yeah, and when she says that we say, "EFF YOU".

And we'll definitely come by to express our *best* at their next economic setback. It's all about fairness, right?

Devil's Advocate - Lose a friend over this?

What friend? These people need their BS called on them. They surround themselves with like-minded Morons and act like the business of government and Constitutional rights is but a game without any real world consequences.

Yeah, these clowns don't know what to think. They are alternately rooting for politicians like children for their favorite sports teams, or they're dead serious on the matter.

More accurately, they're just dead wrong and acting against their own self-interest.



Me voting for John McCain?

Hah! No way. Wrong again, Morons. I'll vote libertarian if there's one on the ballot. Or I'll leave it blank.

OR, I'll write in West Coast Tom. Better to have my hand-puppet in the Oval Office than George Soros'!