Parking

I arrived at the mailbox hut this afternoon, having just spent some quality time in the Commissary (a grocery store for the non-military crowd). I noticed as I pulled up the parking lot that a lady had just pulled in...WRONG!!!

This woman had pulled her car into the spaces closest to the mailbox hut...3 of them...DIAGONALLY!!! What purpose does that serve? Particularly considering the fact that when she left she had to back out and head back the direction she had entered the parking lot from.

I can only imagine some neurons that had been trained during driver's education or simple family training were demolished recently. Perhaps she suffered an injury of some kind...more likely, she's just a moron who was in such a hurry she didn't even bother to park the car legally or with any regard for other people who might drive by the mailbox hut at the same time.

She appeared to be quite confused when I mused somewhat loudly, "Wonderful parking job." Ok, I said it loudly on purpose. I wonder what she was thinking as she drove off. Ok, so I don't wonder...I don't care...LEARN TO PARK CORRECTLY!!!

What's with banks?!?

Apparently many banks have stopped offering their services to people, unless those people have opened an account with that bank. I will provide 2 examples of this lunacy for your "enjoyment" :)

EXAMPLE #1:
So, we were headed out the other day. My wife had a money order she had received as payment for an E-Bay auction. We planned to roll by the bank on the way off post...ack, an Air Force member on an Army post...more on that later...

Anyway, we pulled up to the teller window to ask if we could cash a money order and were told, in no uncertain terms, that without an account we could not avail ourselves of the bank's services.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the very idea of a money order, is that you had to pay for the blasted thing prior to receiving it. In every case where I've purchased one, I've even had to pay a small fee for the privilege of getting one...not sure that is the right way to put that, but privilege makes it sound better. Why in the name of blue smurf pudding would a bank refuse to cash a money order?!? For the love of all that is holy, the stupid thing has already been paid for. It's not like a check to a person's account that could bounce and you'd be screwed; it's from a bank or other financial institution. The money is there and it doesn't take any extra effort to just cash it.

EXAMPLE #2:
We pay our children for some jobs around the house as a way of teaching them about money and how to budget it. As a result, we need random change to provide for their differing ages, as they each can earn a doller per year of their age per week.

The ATM will only provide $10 bills or larger and our kids were 9 and 6 at the time, meaning $15 was required for the week. My wife had visited said ATM earlier and had 1 $20 bill that needed to be changed.

We were close to a bank (that I will not name for reasons of common courtesy) and I went in with the afore-mentioned $20 bill in hand to get change. I stood in line behind several people who stared quite rudely at me...I think it had to do with my wearing jean shorts (jorts), a t-shirt and sandals in rainy, 60 degree weather. Don't blame me that I don't get bothered by cooler temperatures...just accept it and turn your butt around...the lady just called next. So, anyway, I'm standing in line for around 15 minutes, when it comes to my turn. I calmly stride up to the counter and ask the telller if I could get change for a $20 bill and if possible, could I get 2 $5's and 10 $1's. She asks me if I have an account, at which time I say "No, I don't have an account." She then gets this attitude and says, "You need an account before I can assist you."

At this point, my brain goes into over-drive and the following thought process takes place: "Why would I need an account to get change for a $20 dollar bill I'm holding in my hand? This is cash...not a check...not a money order...not a promissory note...not even a cashier's check from your stupid bank...but cash money, you spastic retard. Were in the name of all things green has common sense gone to? I'm holding a $20 dollar bill...GIVE ME CHANGE!!!!"

Fortunately, my brain checked itself and I merely stormed out ranting about "I just need change for cash...what is wrong with these people?" I did rant it quite loudly and I probably opened the door a little rough...I kicked it open. But are you kidding me? Change for cash...I can obtain that at a lot of stores if I time it properly or bother to buy something small.

That's enough for now...I'm starting to twitch again at the memory...

My "Better" Half

My "better" half, or wife, started this blogging thing long before I did. She has more posts and generally puts stuff on her blog regularly.

You can find her at "In the Mind of a Thirtysomething Mom"...a place I can't imagine anyone would ever want to be at...I can't stand being in my own mind most of the time, much less hers.

Anyway, pop on over and read the goings on of our family. I might post things occasionally, but they will normally be rant-type posts, as that is when I tend to get creative and long-winded.

Origin of "Rants Like Madman"

I came to the title of my blog as the result of being given an "Indian" name by a co-worker, whose father was part-Navajo, who thought it would be fun to name us based on our tendancies in the workplace.

At the time, I was commuting through the Washington D.C. region and had a bad habit of listening to C-SPAN radio. For those of you that have never had the unique "joy" of listening to C-SPAN, their morning call in shows are like the trailer parks of the airwaves. The people that call in seem to have this "gift" for ignoring the question at hand and just ranting against whatever it is they don't like: Bush, Clinton, Christians/Jews/Muslims. You name it, they hate it.

Anyhoo, back to the topic at hand. I would listen to the dregs of the intellectual barrel and get more and more frustrated. I consider myself a fairly independent person. I've voted for Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, etc. If there is a party for it, I probably agree with something they say. All told, I'm for common sense and logic. So listening to people who either swallow what the news or party tells them without thinking tends to irritate me. I'm all for people having disagreements and differing opinions, but have the common courtesy to learn something about the topic before venting your idiocy on the rest of us. Spouting off about how "Bush is stupid" is just going to make you sound like a lunatic when the question was about illegal aliens being given driver's licenses, particularly when he isn't stupid, just absurdly naive.

So, I would get to work after 30-45 minutes of this "self-inflicted" torture (I say, self-inflicted, because while I could change the channel, for some reason I never did) and would be ranting like a psychotic about the idiots that populate this world. More told, the idiots who would call in and just spout vitriolic rhetoric concerning whatever was their hate-de-jour. By this time, I'm in full on rant mode...snarling, drooling, growling at random people...that kind of thing. Now, a couple of co-workers would take it upon themselves to throw topics at me randomly throughout the day. It was a kind of game...let's see who can get Chuck's vein in his forehead to bulge the farthest without it bursting or him killing anyone in a blind rage.

All that being said, I was named "Rants Like Madman". Another co-worker wasn't happy with "Whines Like Girl", but it fit, so what could he do.

Greasings and Lubrications

Well, I've gone and done it. I have a blog...............

Uh, what do I put on these things? Or should that be "in these things", or maybe "post to these things"...whatever. I'm probably going to misspell a whole bunch of words and I'm sure that my wife will probably correct my grammar when I make mistakes there.

The title of this post is a joke on "Greetings and Salutations" that I started using during my previous work as an electronics repair tech.

I'm sure more posts will follow when things strike my fancy.

Later.