Jimmy the Negotiation Translator

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  Until recently, two of the most dreaded things in my life were:  1. Shopping and 2. Negotiating (while shopping).  But over the years I have learned to enjoy this a bit more... especially while in China.

On one of my first trips to China, a group of us decided to go "shopping" on Saturday.  It was something to do and a good way to pick up some souvenirs.  We had so much fun with the negotiations and the banter, that even though we had filled our suitcases and couldn't possible carry anything more, we went a second day, just for the entertainment value.  Seriously, I never thought that shopping could be so much fun.

We quickly learned that it was best to mention we wanted to see the "best quality" merchandise which led to a hidden compartment behind the front facade.  After a couple of these, we then discovered some "stores" had a second or even a third hidden compartment in series behind the other one with better and better quality.  While in each of these we heard the exaggerated quality attributes about all the product... like "real leather" and they tried to prove it by lighting a match to it.  (A fire marshal would freak about an open flame with all that plastic present.)

After hearing about as much as I could take about things being "real" leather, Jimmy had to comment, "yes... yes... this is the real 'extruded' leather I have been searching for."  And quickly the proprietor started to include that phrase in her pitch... "See this is good.  Real extruded leather.  How much you pay?"

Finally after a long playful negotiation, the proprietor said something and one of the guys in our group laughed and blurted, "BULLSHIT!"  She smiled and we finished our transaction.

On the way back to the store, the proprietor pulled me aside and asked, "What meaning of Bullshit?"

I decided to help her better understand the English vernacular.  "Sure, it's a common phrase in America that upon completion of a successful transaction, you smile, shake hands and say 'Bullshit' - we do it all the time."

My apologies to the next shopper.

Jimmy's First Science Lesson

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  This past week, the mother of one of my best friends since kindergarten passed away and I wanted to share one short story.

When Jimmy was a wee little lad, he got the chance to go play with Brian on his farm.  (I think Mike was with us... but he has not confirmed knowledge of the "incident."  This is a good theory on his part not to self incriminate).  For a town dweller, this was a unique experience with many adventurous opportunities and many more places to get into trouble.  Since I was only 6 years old, Mrs. Tweeten wanted to go over a few ground rules.  Among them was a caution about something called "an electric fence."  I had never heard of such a phenomenon, but I took her word for it.  (I was not the brightest kid as one can surmise from an earlier post: A Day of Infamy in Kindergarten).  She mentioned that Brian would point it out and that I should just not touch it or I might get hurt.  Since avoidance of any pain was a high priority, I took her word for it.

As with any couple of young boys, we made a beeline to the nearest electric fence.  Brian, the wise one, pointed it out to make sure I knew what was "hot" and what was not and issued a final warning that we shouldn't touch it... but that it was "OK" to pee on it.

Since the theory of Electrical Conductivity and Grounding was not within the realm of logical concepts understood by a first grader, I thought peeing on the electric fence made good sense and a good substitute for not being able to touch said wire.

I now know that my good friend Brian was going to intentionally miss the wire and watch Jimmy get his first lesson in physical science.  But just as I dropped my trousers, Mrs. Tweeten yelled from the porch, "Brian - don't you be teaching Jimmy that!"

Thank you Mrs. Tweeten.  I know you are still watching over your family.

Photo of the Three Amigos - 1st Grade
Brian, Jimmy and Mike

Jimmy Says Farewell - It's an End of an Era

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... but I will.  Yes, I know, it's an end of an era... a sad day... a farewell of sorts.  I know most of you were hoping that the blog finally bit the dust... but no - something even more somber for some, and a celebration for most in my household.  No.  It's not the end of the year that some are thinking... but on the same level, it is a moment of reflection of past glory and yet the anticipation of a solid future on which to build - a comfort beyond any measure for Jimmy.

Yes, you guessed it - my wife's nemesis is finally being tossed.  The glory days are over for the old sweatshirt.

(A fitting memorial is planned.  I may have to fold it into a triangle and send it to the VFW for proper disposal.  I'll miss you old friend).  

Some might ask... why?  You see the glory days are back.  My wife gave me the greatest gift - HALLELUJAH - a new sweatshirt to replace my compatriot.  She's the best.  Thanks hon.  I'll treasure it and keep it for as long as I had the first...

Yes I know, I can't wear it to bed...  OK no wearing it to church.  But I insist that on days I wear it, you can't make spaghetti or anything with red sauce.  







PS.  Right now I kinda feel bad about getting you those Pajama Jeans.

Jimmy's Black Friday Fiasco

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  Jimmy swore off participating in Black Friday sales years ago, but I must have forgotten and somehow my wife talked me into doing the Thanksgiving Day blitz in her stead.  She had to work and since sleeping was my only excuse... weak as it was, I was elected to go.

The task assigned to me was simple - get to The Home Depot before the doors opened at 5am, pick up an artificial Christmas tree, return home and go back to bed - simple enough.  My wife circled the item in the flyer and specifically pointed out the $49 pre-lit Christmas tree.  That was the intended target - simple enough - piece of cake - can a corn.

I strategized that since only men would probably go to The Home Depot and very few of them would ever wait in line in the middle of the night (especially for a Christmas tree), my chances would be pretty good if I just got there 5 to 10 minutes before opening.  Therefore I decided to "sleep in" until 4:30am, and still get a good place in line.

When I arrived at my pre-calculated time, I was somewhat surprised to see 100+ individuals in a long line stretching down the sidewalk.  For crying out loud... this is only The Home Depot store.  Who in their right mind would be standing in line to get tools and stuff?  Yes... women.  Apparently this artificial Christmas tree was a high demand item so this was going to be a bit tricky to maneuver around highly trained shoppers that they were.

At precisely 5am, the store opened and the orderly queue filed in as many shoppers dispersed through the store.  From behind 20-30 people I could see people making a mad dash picking up long boxes I could only assumed where my intended target - the $49 pre-lit Christmas trees.  But the crowd in front of me stopped and no one could move.  I continued to see the stack dwindle right before my eyes so I had to make a drastic decision.  The only other guy in the store, stood right in front blocking my path.  He was pushing a huge flat top carrier and he couldn't move from the mass of bodies starting to backup in the aisle.  I asked him if his wife also forced him to pick up a Christmas tree and he said no... he was headed in different direction and unfortunately could not get though... so I climbed over him and walked across his cart... all with the most brotherly love possible... after all this was Christmas.  Sorry bro.

I could not have waited any longer as I arrived just in time to proudly grab the last box and fend off the multitude of ladies I had just thrown to the side.  I had my trophy and it still displayed the $49 sign on it as proof of my superb hunting skills.  I walked up the counter and quickly paid.  Total time elapsed in the store - less than 5 minutes.

As I was walking back to my vehicle, it dawned on me... she said "pre-lit" and the other phrase I remembered from the night before... "don't get the pre-decorated one." I think the other part she said was, "LET ME REPEAT... DON'T GET THE PRE-DECORATED ONE."  Uh oh... 50/50 odds now.

Since it was still dark outside, I had to wait until I loaded the vehicle and then I turned on the lights.  At this moment, Jimmy had a choice:  Return the item or go home.  Since I didn't want to set an embarrassing world record for the earliest retuned item ever - 7 minutes after the official start - I decided to head home and insist that she said she wanted the "PRE-DECORATED."   Better luck next year hon.

Jimmy Receives Email on TSA

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  Wow Big Brother is watching Jimmy.  Not sure if one of my regular FB readers turned me in or not, but Jimmy received a ominous email regarding the TSA.

Not sure if you have been following my latest exploits about the TSA, but I need to stash away a few more copies of Catcher in the Rye.

Delta, my regular airline carrier, sent me an opportunity in the email that I could not pass up... so to speak.

It looks like I can opt in for some special treatment from my favorite folks down at the TSA.





"SEE WHAT OTHER TRAVELER ARE SAYING ABOUT TSA'S NEW EXPEDITED SCREENING PROGRAM."  Not sure I want to get expedited to the front of that line again.

Down here at the bottom, it asks me if I have any friends of family who aren't in the screening program and might like to participate.  As a favor to all my FB friends, I have sent your emails to the TSA so you can enjoy the same expedited system I get.  Congratulations.  Christmas came early to all my friends!

Jimmy's TSA Refrain (with apologies...)

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  Jimmy has a final word about the TSA.  I had to steal this from the iowahawk blog.  He decided to rewrite the lyrics to several John Lennon songs.  The following appropriately titled  "I'm Back in the USSR" goes like this:










For all the other songs go to:
http://iowahawk.typepad.com/iowahawk/2011/06/john-lennon.html

Delta to Miami Beach flight 803
Man I really hate to fly
At the gate his hands were on my knee
And the they clambered up my thigh

I'm back at the TSA
It wasn't always this way, boy
I'm back at the TS, back at the TS
Back at the TSA

Those O'Hare boys really feel me out
In front and from behind
At LAX they make me scream and shout
And ATL in Georgia loves to give an extra little bump and grind

Take me through your scanners with your paddle wand
Take an x-ray of my tool
Squeeze my nuts and call the dogs to sniff for bombs
Napolitano says it's cool 

I'm back at the TSA
I hope this dude isn't gay
I'm back at the TS, back at the TS
Back at the TSA

Jimmy Meets the TSA

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will.  If you haven't noticed, Jimmy has been laying low after some recent travel.  Some might suspect it's a government imposed super secret restriction.  It all started when I was on a recent trip through Cleveland and had a small run-in with the TSA(ut) - Transportation Security Administration (union thugs) that is.

Jimmy was running late, yet privilege has it perks... or so I thought.  My Sky Priority allowed me to take the express lane right to the front (all to the aggravation of the less fortunates stiffs that were being treated more like cattle waiting to get branded in the narrow lane stalls).  Immediately the TSA agent motioned me over to review my documents.  So far so good... they even opened up a new line to run me through the metal detectors and I was going to make it through in world record time.  Well, just as I pulled my laptop out of its bag, another man jumped right in front of me and proceeded to do the drill - the drill I had just completed with liquids, belts, shoes, hats, coats, laptops, billfolds, keys, coins, etc.  I could have walked around him, but I had my four separate plastic bins to carry around him and only two hands, therefore I concluded that I had gained enough valuable time, I could spare a bit... be generous - let the other man go first.

After a short delay, he went through the metal detector successfully and as Jimmy was starting to walk through the same machine, they roped it off and motioned me to go through the new fangled full body scanner.  Now I have done that drill several times and never knew what all the fuss was about... until now.

I barely got settled with my feet on the yellow fake footprints and my hands above my head like I just held up the 5&Dime when the TSA(ut) lady turned it on.  She couldn't decide whether to let me out or rerun the scan, but decided it was "OK," as she stated.  However the rather large looking goon at the end of the line seemed to disagree and they started haggling over the results of the scan.  She said, it was OK, but he wanted to implement DEFCON 4, the next level of protocol.

The intimidating figure blocked my path and asked me to wait while he called over his supervisor, an equally sized LG (large goon) who then asked me to step over to his "office."  As the first agent blocked the door (assuming I was going to make a break for it), the supervisor explained, "This is how it's going to work," and he snapped the latex gloves in the exact manner that my proctologist does.

"I'm going to use my open hands everywhere, all the way up both your legs - to the very top.  I will reach completely inside your trousers - all the way around and when I check your "sensitive" area, I will use the back of my hands across your front and across your buttocks.  Any questions before I start?"

At this point, I started to get worried.  "What exactly IS the problem officer?"

The LG supervisor then stated in vague technical terms, "We have an anomaly in your groin that we need to check."

I quickly replied, "Well I'm sure it's a very LARGE anomaly you found."

Sure enough, he checked just like he stated and then said he had to run the gloves through the chemical analyzer looking for bomb residue.  Afterwards, he came back and said all was fine but he needed my boarding pass to write down my name and flight I was taking.

I handed him my info, along with my HMO card and a co-pay and asked him if I was good for another ten years.

Gotta love the government's new streamlined efficiency - Obama Care at it's finest.  He did say that I should get that hemorrhoid checked out.