sounds familiar

Saturday, while Sharaun was at a baby shower thrown in her honor (or is it Cohen’s honor?) by her girlfriends at church, I was at a funeral.  The contrast of our morning calendars was not lost on me.

Sharaun’s sister and her husband are in town this week, so writing has been slim.  Today was Doug, my brother-in-law’s, birthday.  I took the day off work (after a few unavoidable morning meetings).  We tried to make for the mountains, had designs on a picnic by the river at a little washout swimming spot we know.  Got up, got ready, packed up the car, packed in the people, and made the 40min trek up the hill.  After paying our $8 “day use” fee we drove down to the river.

Once there we found it completely swollen and rushing with fresh snowmelt; the little beach where we’d planned to sun and play and stage our afternoon was swallowed up by the water.  Dejected, we made the call to turn right back around and make the 40min drive in reverse (after getting our $8 back, however).  We ended up at a local lake, which worked just fine to scratch our hot dog grilling, swimming and sunning itch.  Stayed there for a few hours and packed it in.

Once we got home we all crashed for naps, drained of energy by the sunshine.  While napping, the cat was curled up near my feet.  This got me thinking: Some people take their cats to the vet.  We’ve had this cat now for thirteen years and we’ve never once taken her to the vet.  I figure, as long as she’s eating, drinking, doesn’t have fleas, and hitting the littler box – she’s fine.  A couple years ago her fur started thinning around her haunches, and I guess maybe a normal person or an animal nut would’ve seen this as cause for a trip to the animal doctor.  But she didn’t seem to miss the hair, and she is thirteen years old, after all.  Anyway I like my cats self-sufficient.  As it is I’m planning to be done with pets after this one’s gone to cat-afterlife; so the longer she takes care of herself the better.

Goodnight.

I have a guy who does my lawn; takes care of everything: mowing, the trees, the bushes, the weeds, fertilizing, the sprinklers, etc.

I didn’t always have a lawn service.  There was a time when I scoffed at the idea.  Later, I debated the idea.  Finally, I broke down.  Now, I consider a lawn service as one of those “first to go” kind of perk services.  Like the pest control service or dinners out on Fridays it’s something below the discretionary/non-discretionary line; one of the easy “cuts” that could be made if need be.

But man, I love my lawn service.  And you know what?  I know I pay too much for it. In fact, I have friends who pay 30% less for almost the same type of service.  Sure, my guy is licensed and legal – but how much does that really matter when it comes right down to it?  Is it worth 30%?  Not to me.  So… why do I, Mr. Cheap, continue to pay more than I know I have to?  You are going to laugh.

I pay my lawn guy more than some other lawn guy because… I like him.  I mean, he’s really nice.  He’s personal; he’s great with Keaton when she’s around; he loves the Lord (no, really, that alone matters to me); he asks about my family; I know his kids’ names.  So is it dumb to pay a guy 30% more than another guy because he said he’d “pray for you” when you told him you’d be out of town at your grandmother’s funeral?

I have a friend who always tells me I mix too much emotion into my financial decisions.  He’s right; I do.  I make financial choices with about 90% focus on the numbers, the bottom-line, and about 10% on “feel.”  He goads me about my rewards card choice, stating plainly that the card he has (which deposits cash-back into a brokerage account) is better on the numbers.  Again, he’s right.  But y’know, my card gives me 2mi on every dollar.  Yes, I’m locked into airline miles; yes, the “liquidity” of airline miles leaves something to be desired and isn’t as flexible and often ends up being a worse deal than just taking 2% cash and buying tickets directly.  I know all this.  But, for some strange psychological reason I like my rewards “locked-in” to miles.  It makes me feel like I’m earning trips back to Florida, or cheaper vacations.  I actually prefer the rewards to be limited in this way.  So yes, emotion plays a role in my financial thinking.

I guess it’s not that strange then that I’m OK paying a premium for a lawn guy I connect with.  The spreadsheet side of me says I’m dumb… but the thing in me that likes my lawn guy because he gives us a Christmas card says I’m right-on.

Have a good weekend.

Something is rotten in Denmark.  And, by Denmark I mean Sharaun’s trunk.

Yeah, that’s right – something has completely, totally, and unashamedly stunk-up the trunk of the Saturn.  On Saturday morning Sharaun told me that something smelled rotten in her car.  I heard this in the way that only husbands can “hear” wives – which is to say that I held a completely cogent conversation with her on the matter without really listening at all.  So when I got home later in the day and climbed out of my own vehicle and smelled a horrible smell in the garage, I dug deep and recalled that, at some point that day, I’d heard something about some kind of smell somewhere.  Processing, I recalled Sharaun’s comment and began sniffing around her car.  Her completely closed car, I might add.

Sniff, sniff, sniff… my senses brought me to the trunk where the funk smelled strongest.  I popped it and was awed.  The smell greeted me with all the reception of a brick wall; something in between dead animal and sour milk.  I stuck my head in and recoiled again before I could begin the hunt.  I pulled items out one-by-one, looking for an obvious piece of forgotten produce long-rotted from a week-gone grocery run or some poor decomposing rodent unlucky enough to get stuck.  But each time I removed an item and gave it the sniff test it passed.  Soon I had an empty trunk and no culprit.  I pulled up the bottom panel to peek underneath, nothing.  I sniffed the upholstery in search of perhaps something spilled, nothing.

So it put it all back in and left the trunk open overnight to air-out.  But man, that smell is still there… and it doesn’t seem to be dissipating at all.  Poor Sharaun bought one of those tropical air freshener things to hang in the cab, and it keeps the smell at bay to some degree… but it still ain’t right.

Goodnight.

<Exhale>

Lost a friend over the weekend.

Mind hasn’t been able to stick on much since.

I’ll miss seeing you every day Tony.

Read this previous post for context.