Swampland

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So, the day after Christmas dawned sunny and warm (low 50s) so I decided to take the GF out for a visit to South Carolina’s only National Park.  Congaree National Park is only about 30 minutes from Columbia, so let’s go!

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What they call “old growth bottomland hardwood forest” is actually swampland.  Now, when the trees are in their summertime glory they form a beautiful natural canopy over the forest floor.  And a perfect breeding ground for pesky mosquitoes.  The wintertime advantage is as shown above.

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There are numerous hiking trails throughout the park but we opted for the very easy 2.5 mile boardwalk loop.

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According to the park brochure, the lush trees growing in this floodplain forest are some of the tallest in the hardwoods in the world.

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Of course, they didn’t look to “lush” on December 26.  But they were tall.  Now, I have seen the Sequoias in the Sierra Nevada, so when you are talking big, everything is relative.  I recall that when I first moved to the South I sent a friend a postcard of the Smoky Mountains.  She wrote back and said “you call those mountains?  Folks sure do exaggerate back there!”

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Bottomland.

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Jee Yeun enjoys the view at Watson Lake.

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Two and a half miles was about all I had in me on this fine winter’s day.

And so ends this tale.

A letter from my email…

Subject: FW: To All My Valued Employees (Great Letter)
 
 

To All My Valued Employees,There have been some rumblings around the office about the future of this company, and more specifically, your job. As you know, the economy has changed for the worse and presents many challenges. However, the good news is this: The economy doesn’t pose a threat to your job.

What does threaten your job however, is the changing political landscape in this country. Of course, as your employer, I am forbidden to tell you whom to vote for – it is against the law to discriminate based on political affiliation, race, creed, religion, etc.

Please vote for who you think will serve your interests the best. However, let me tell you some little tidbits of fact which might help you decide what is in your best interest. First, while it is easy to spew rhetoric that casts employers against employees, you have to understand that for every business owner there is a back story.

This back story is often neglected and overshadowed by what you see and hear.  Sure, you see me park my Mercedes outside.  You saw my big home at last years Christmas party. I’m sure all these flashy icons of luxury conjure up some idealized thoughts about my life. However, what you don’t see is the back story.

I started this company 12 years ago. At that time, I lived in a 300 square foot studio apartment for 3 years. My entire living space was converted into an office so I could put forth 100% effort into building a company, which by the way, would eventually employ you.

My diet consisted of Ramen Pride noodles because every dollar I spent went back into this company. I drove a rusty Toyota Corolla with a defective transmission. I didn’t have time to date. Often times, I stayed home on weekends, while my friends went out drinking and partying. In fact, I was married to my business — hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.

Meanwhile, my friends got jobs. They worked 40 hours a week and made a modest $50K a year and spent every dime they earned. They drove flashy cars and lived in expensive homes and wore fancy designer clothes.  Instead of hitting Nordstrom’s for the latest hot fashion item, I was trolling through the Goodwill store extracting any clothing item that didn’t look like it was birthed in the 70’s.

My friends refinanced their mortgages and lived a life of luxury. I, however, did not. I put my time, my money, and my life into a business — with a vision that eventually, some day, I too, will be able to afford these luxuries my friends supposedly had.

So, while you physically arrive at the office at 9 am, mentally check in at about noon, and then leave at 5 pm, I don’t. There is no “off” button for me. When you leave the office, you are done and you have a weekend all to yourself.  I unfortunately do not have the freedom.  I eat, ****, and breathe this company every minute of the day. There is no rest. There is no weekend. There is no happy hour. Every day this business is attached to me like a 1 day old baby.

You, of course, only see the fruits of that garden — the nice house, the Mercedes, the vacations… You never realize the back story and the sacrifices I’ve made. Now, the economy is falling apart and I, the guy that made all the right decisions and saved his money, have to bail out all the people who didn’t.

The people that overspent their paychecks suddenly feel entitled to the same luxuries that I earned and sacrificed a decade of my life for.  Yes, business ownership has its benefits but the price I’ve paid is steep and not without wounds. Unfortunately, the cost of running this business, and employing you, is starting to eclipse the threshold of marginal benefit and let me tell you why:

I am being taxed to death and the government thinks I don’t pay enough. I have state taxes. Federal taxes. Property taxes. Sales and use taxes. Payroll taxes. Workers compensation taxes. Unemployment taxes. Taxes on taxes. I have to hire a tax man to manage all these taxes and then guess what?   I have to pay taxes for employing him. Government mandates and regulations and all the accounting that goes with it, now occupy most of my time. On Oct 15th, I wrote a check to the US Treasury for $288,000 for quarterly taxes.  You know what my “stimulus” check was? Zero. Nada. Zilch.

The question I have is this: Who is stimulating the economy? Me, the guy who has provided 14 people good paying jobs and serves over 2,200,000 people per year with a flourishing business? Or, the single mother sitting at home pregnant with her fourth child waiting for her next welfare check?

Obviously, government feels the latter is the economic stimulus of this country. The fact is, if I deducted (Read: Stole) 50% of your paycheck you’d quit and you wouldn’t work here. I mean, why should you? That’s nuts. Who wants to get rewarded only 50% of their hard work? Well, I agree which is why your job is in jeopardy. Here is what many of you don’t understand .. to stimulate the economy you need to stimulate what runs the economy. Had suddenly government mandated to me that I didn’t need to pay taxes, guess what?   Instead of depositing that $288,000 into the Washington black-hole, I would have spent it, hired more employees, and generated substantial economic growth. My employees would have enjoyed the wealth of that tax cut in the form of promotions and better salaries. But you can forget it now.

When you have a comatose man on the verge of death, you don’t defibrillate and shock his thumb thinking that will bring him back to life, do you? Or, do you defibrillate his heart?   Business is at the heart of America and always has been. To restart it, you must stimulate it, not kill it. Suddenly, the power brokers in Washington believe the mud of America are the essential drivers of the American economic engine.

Nothing could be further from the truth and this is the type of change you can keep. So where am I going with all this? It’s quite simple. If any new taxes are levied on me, or my company, my reaction will be swift and simple. I fire you. I fire your co-workers.   You can then plead with the government to pay for your mortgage, your SUV, and your child’s future. Frankly, it isn’t my problem any more. Then, I will close this company down, move to another country, and retire.

You see, I’m done. I’m done with a country that penalizes the productive and gives to the unproductive. My motivation to work and to provide jobs will be destroyed, and with it, will be my citizenship.

While tax cuts to 95% of America sounds great on paper, don’t forget the back story: If there is no job, there is no income to tax. A tax cut on zero dollars is zero. So, when you make decision to vote, ask yourself, who understands the economics of business ownership and who doesn’t?  Whose policies will endanger your job? Answer those questions and you should know who might be the one capable of saving your job. While the media wants to tell you “It’s the economy Stupid” I’m telling you it isn’t.

If you lose your job, it won’t be at the hands of the economy; it will be at the hands of a political hurricane that swept through this country, steamrolled the Constitution, and will have changed its landscape forever. If that happens, you can find me in the South Caribbean sitting on a beach, retired, and with no employees to worry about.

Signed, Your boss,

Michael A. Crowley, PE
Crowley, Crisp & Associates, Inc.
Professional Engineers
1906 South Main Street, Suite 122
Wake Forest , NC 27587
Phone: 919.562.8860 x22
Fax: 919.562.8872

Hanging on by a thread

No, the blog is not dead, on life support perhaps, but not dead.

The fact of the matter is that I just don’t have anything much of interest going on these days.  And what little I’ve had to say, I’ve said on Facebook.

I’ve pretty much finished all the major house projects (or at least I have exhausted all my discretionary funds).  And I’ve got a nice, comfortable place to call home.  Best of all, it’s paid for.  In this economy, that’s better than money in bank.  Or so at least I keep telling myself.

My dad has some pretty serious health issues.  He has a condition called temporal arteritis which has caused him to lose vision in one eye and impaired the vision in the other.  It appeared for awhile he may go completely blind, but six days in the hospital for intravenous steroid treatment seems to have stopped the progression of symptoms.  He’s extremely weak and unstable however, so I make daily visits, do his shopping, and drive him to his doctor appointments.

I’m still playing darts twice a week and I’m throwing about as well as I ever have.  Which is not great, but I don’t have the frustration that comes from under-performing.  Darts is really the extent of my social life, and it’s something I look forward to each week.

Had a visit from some old friends from high school, Rod and Pat Headlee.  Our paths seem to cross every few years and we get the chance to catch up on what’s happening and reminisce about the glory days.  I must admit that their life is much more interesting than mine.  They live on a 42′ sailboat and regularly travel the big water to exotic locations, mostly in the South Pacific.  They had some really amazing stories about their adventures.  We have a standing invite to join them on the boat for one of their journeys.  Truth be told, I can see myself meeting them in Pago Pago and doing some day trips around the islands but I’m not sure I’m up for a blue water excursion.  We’ll see.

Jee Yeun seems to be adapting well to life in America.  Although she’s a big city girl at heart, and as far as cities go, Columbia is a burg compared to Seoul.  She’s a trooper though.  She’s been out digging in the back yard for the past couple of days removing weeds and such.  I think she must enjoy it, but she did tell me the other day that she hadn’t planned on becoming a farmer when she moved to the USA.

I’ve also enjoyed getting to see the kids and grandkids on a semi-regular basis.  And I have a new granddaughter in the hatch, which will be my son’s first child.  She’ll be born right about the time I get back from Korea.

I’m really looking forward to spending the summer back in the Land of the Morning Calm.  Jee Yeun says I miss Korea more than her.  Maybe that’s true.  I miss my friends and the lifestyle, that’s for sure.  Of course, I recognize that things will be different when I return.  Life moves forward and things change and all that.  But I’m nothing if not adaptable, so I’m not too worried.

I think my biggest fear about returning to America was getting sucked in.  By that I mean, falling into a quiet routine and living a vanilla life.  I’ve been consciously resisting that, but I’m probably at least half way there.  But I’m not going down without a fight!

See?  I warned you I had nothing much to say.  And I said it anyway.

Adventures in home ownership (part 1)

So, yesterday I enlisted the help of a neighbor and we installed new lights on the front and back porches.  Now, one thing I learned from this experience is it pays to read the instructions first.  Still after a few do-overs, we managed to get the front light hung.

The second thing I learned is that electricity can be a pretty unforgiving thing.  Now before you jump to any conclusions about my intelligence, I want to state right up front that I did in fact turn off the lighting breaker at the panel before starting the project.  And we got the front porch taken care without anything, ahem, shocking taking place.

As we installed the back porch light, the exposed wires touched and they made a pretty impressive spark.  My neighbor was incredulous when I assured him I had in fact thrown the breaker.  But before continuing I did the smart thing and turned off the main breaker and the install was completed without further incident.

Except when we were finished the porch light didn’t work.  I checked the breaker panel and saw that the switch for the great room was tripped.  I reset it and the lamp was lit.  So, I also now know that the back porch is not on the lighting circuit after all.

But the biggest surprise came this morning when I attempted to turn on my television.  Because it no longer works.  I can only surmise that despite being on a surge protector, that spark on the great room circuit must have done some internal damage to the TV.

Now, this is a 47 inch flat panel I purchased at the PX in Korea.  It’s a Korean brand I’ve never seen anywhere else (AVOL).  I looked up their USA service number on the Internet and called about getting it fixed.  They said they’d be glad to take a look if I shipped it to California.  Did I mention this is a 47″ flat screen?  The AVOL folks helpfully suggested I contact AAFES (the retailer) to see if they could suggest someone for local servicing.

The way things are looking I may have the most expensive back porch lighting fixture in the neighborhood.

What he said…

Let me get this straight. We’re going to be “gifted” with a health care plan we are forced to purchase and fined if we don’t, which purportedly covers at least 10 million more people, without adding a single new doctor, but provides for 16,000 new IRS agents, written by a committee whose chairman says he doesn’t understand it, passed by a congress that didn’t read it but exempted themselves from it, and signed by a president who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn’t pay his taxes, for which we’ll be taxed for 4 years before any benefits take effect, by a government which has already bankrupted social security and medicare, all to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, and financed by a country that’s broke!!! What the hell go possibly go wrong?

–from the comments at Politico.

Coincidentally

Spent the past several days shopping for furniture to fill the house in anticipation of eventually closing the deal.  Uncle Sam (in the guise of HUD) is taking his sweet time, although the contract offer has been accepted and approved.

Once I actually take possession I’m going to have to have the interior painted and new flooring installed before I actually move in.  But when that day comes, I’ll have the living room, dining room, and bedroom furniture I’ve now purchased delivered.

I won’t bore you with the details of my shopping experience (at least any more so than I already have), but I will relate a little story that I thought was kinda funny.

I had looked at a leather couch/love seat combo I rather fancied at Ashley Furniture.  About twice as expensive as the leather blends that are quite popular, but I’m hoping to make this the final furniture purchase in this lifetime.  So I had to consider quality over price, at least to the extent I could afford to do so. Still,  I wanted to stew on the decision for a bit before pulling the trigger.  A few days later I found a bedroom suite that filled the bill at Value City and I completed the purchase transaction with my salesman, Maurice.

Having now made up my mind to go with the leather at the Ashley store, I hooked up with Eva, the salesperson who had assisted me on my previous visit.  She asked me if I had bought a bedroom set at Value City the previous day. I was somewhat taken aback, but confessed that I had in fact done so.  It turns out that Maurice is Eva’s husband.  Apparently he had told her about his “big sale” (these folks work on commission) and I guess his description of us rang a bell with Eva.

Anyway, I thought that was a pretty amazing coincidence.  I mean, the sales staff in both stores just grab the customers randomly as they enter the store.  What are the odds that I’d just happen to get both ends of the married couple?

I guess I made both of their days. And Eva said she’d be sure and remind Maurice she got the bigger sale.  Me?  I’m feeling quite a bit poorer for the experience.  But I got some nice stuff.

Soup or bowl?

Everybody around here seems to talking about that age old question of which came first, the soup or the bowl.   It seems fairly obvious that you couldn’t possible invent soup unless and until you had a bowl in which to place it.  But that’s just me.

Anyway, I understand that the issue is to be decided on something called a gridiron today.  Seems these soup packers from Green Bay or going to attempt to fill some steel bowls made in Pittsburgh or something.  Everyone is getting together at my daughter’s house to watch the action.

I’m not sure what all the fuss is about.  I’m not that hot on soup anyway.  Now, some good ol’ chili is always nice.  Especially in a steel bowl.