HEDGING YOUR BETS

Wake up!  It’s time for a riddle: What do you consistently buy that is very expensive, but that you never want to use, and that the seller doesn’t really want you to use either?

If that doesn’t ring your chimes, the clue is in your checkbook. Minimally, you insure your life, your body parts, your home and your car, and if that isn’t good enough, you spend some more money on a million-dollar umbrella policy to protect you from a litigious cloud burst.

There are other insurances such as coverage for lost packages, floods, or termites that can chew you out of house and home, and the most recent insurance is coverage for a wedding. The average American wedding now costs around $26,000.00, so a number of companies now insure certain losses due to problems with vendors, and issues such as hurricanes, illness and cold feet. However, if the couple decides to break-up, it has to be nine months before the happy event to collect. I think that wedding insurance stops the moment the couple says, “I do!” I doubt if any company is solvent enough to insure a moment after that.

I was happy to have car insurance when an old lady confused her gas pedal for her brake pedal and rear-ended me at a stoplight. The police officer suggested that she stop driving when he saw a man carrying her radiator back to her car.

For most of us, insurance is a necessary but annoying expense, however for some people it serves another purpose such as publicity. Lloyds of London was the go to company for odd insurances. In the 1940’s executives of 20th Century Fox insured the legs of the popular pin-up and actress, Betty Grable for one-million-dollars each.

In 1957, food critic, Egon Ronay insured his taste buds for $400,000.00. That was before the popularity of jalapeño peppers, and people still had taste buds.

Thirteen-year-old Harvey Lowe won the 1932 World Yo-Yo Championship in London, and toured Europe with his up and down toy. His sponsor, the Cheerio Yo-Yo Company of Canada insured his hands for $150,000.00.

Michael Flatley, star of Riverdance, must have thought his legs were prettier than Betty Grable’s because he insured them for forty-seven-million dollars.

The comedy team of Bud Abbot and Lou Costello took out a $250,000.00, five-year policy to protect against a career-ending argument. Unfortunately, that didn’t include a career-ending argument with the Internal Revenue Service.

Bruce Springsteen insured his voice, Rod Stewart his throat and Bob Dylan his vocal cords.

Actuaries, who work for insurance companies, use mathematical, statistical and financial theories to study uncertain future events and the consequences of covering clients. They help to determine who is the biggest risk for the insurance company, and ask questions such as: “How many times has this bozo gone sky diving without opening his parachute in the last year?” If it’s more than once, forget the Whole Life Policy!

Esther Blumenfeld (“Can you really count on unpredictability?”) WSB

NO REVERSE GEAR

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a pilot or a bartender. I was told that, “Girls don’t fly,” and my mother forbade me from becoming a bartender. It wasn’t the mixing of drinks that intrigued me, but I was curious about all those imaginative stories that I suspected customers must tell.

When I attended college, I wanted to write comedy for television, but was told that only one woman wrote for television.  Her name was Agnes Nixon and she wrote soap operas that weren’t very funny. Then I thought of having a career operating television cameras, but was told that I would never get a job, because I could never join the Cameraman’s Union. The professor added, “And you girls learn to type.” I took his advice and began typing my life-long observations---and eventually got paid for them.

Some people think life is a crapshoot and others think it’s a matter of choices. It’s probably a combination of both. I knew a successful salesman in Atlanta who struck up a conversation with a Japanese man while sitting in the Atlanta airport. The young man told him that the Japanese were going to import automobiles to the United States, and asked the salesman if he would be interested to have the franchise for the southeastern part of the country. The salesman thought to himself, “Who in his right mind will buy a Japanese car?” and he politely refused the offer. The young man was a representative from Toyota.

There are always decisions to be made when coming to that inevitable fork in the road. Hindsight can be an entertaining exercise when thinking, “If I had done this instead of that.” However, it’s a dangerous game when one says, “If I had ONLY done this instead of that.” There is a difference between wistful thinking and unreasonable regret.

In 1978, Berkshire Hathaway stock sold for $175 a share. Today the stock is trading at $175,852.00 a share. Now that is a wistful twinge at its best.

You don’t have to be a student of World History to realize in hindsight that---so often--- if humanity had zigged instead of zagged, the world would be in a different place---maybe better---maybe not.

It’s probably healthier to live the life we have today, rather than dwell on an imagined life built on unfulfilled dreams. As far as I know, there are no magic lanterns giving us go backs. Ah, there’s the rub.

When I was in Windsor, our guide told us that the Queen of England enjoys driving her automobile, “But Her Majesty is a terrible driver!” I often imagined that I would have had my 15 minutes of fame if she hit me. Think of the headline, “Tourist run over by the Queen.” Imagine the lawsuit! Wow! I could have had it made. Now that is some hindsight.

My friend, Al Fisher said something quite wise, “I’m actually a better person than I used to be, but I’m not as good as I’ll be tomorrow.” It’s called, foresight.Try it, you just might like it.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Hang on to the good memories. Have no regrets. Proceed”)
anonymous

DON'T MESS WITH GRANDMA

My Grandparents used to bicker a  lot, but when a friend said  to my Grandmother, ‘“Your husband can be such a pain.”  My Grandmother replied, “You are correct, but no one has the right to complain about my husband except me!”

Families can be very complicated. As George Carlin said “The other night, I ate in a real nice family restaurant.  Every table had an argument going.”

When I taught Sunday School, I asked my class, “How do you think we can get Peace on Earth?” No one had a good idea. Then, I suggested that it begins with us. “First,” I said, “You have to have peace in your own family, and then make peace with your neighbors, and then they should make peace with their neighbors etc.” After I finished, one boy raised his hand and said, “It will never work!” “Why?” said I, and he said, “Because I hate my brother!”

Wayne Huizenga said, “Some family trees bear an enormous crop of nuts.”

Shakespeare  gave us the Montagues and the Capulets. Romeo, a Montague goes to a party given by the Capulets. He falls in love with Juliet, and in spite of a deadly feud between the two families, the two get married in secret. Cousins on both sides keep killing each other.  Finally, the ill-fated couple can’t take it anymore and commit suicide. That was before marriage counseling was invented.

In my hometown, there was a couple who lived in her Mother’s house. The two women did not speak to each other EVER! When asked about the situation, the husband said, “It’s peaceful. They never argue.”   

It’s always a test if you want to spend a holiday with a relative. Dear friends of mine scheduled a cruise for Christmas, so they wouldn’t have to put up with the sap from the family tree.

The Hatfields and McCoy’s were a perfect blend of chaos and dysfunction. That bitter, murderous family feud between the two families—one from West Virginia and the other from Kentucky—lasted from 1863 to 1891, and some lawsuits and trials continued until 2000. However, on June 14, 2003 in Pikeville, Kentucky, they officially declared a truce between the families, and began cashing in on their story.

After an  acrimonious divorce, my friend’s husband refused to speak to her even at family functions.  He even shunned her on his deathbed. Boy! did he get even with her!

I’m not sure if we will ever reach peace in the world, but maybe we can achieve some form of peace in our families.  First of all, it’s a good idea to develop selective hearing, and then to consider this question:  “Would you rather be happy or would you rather be right?”

Esther Blumenfeld

TWINKIES ARE NOT A VEGETABLE

I don’t remember how we got on the subject of vegetables, but the other day my friend, Barbara said, “I like all vegetables except rutabaga.” “Is rutabaga a vegetable?” I asked. “Not in my house, it isn’t.” she replied. Of course, Barbara is from Wisconsin, and everyone knows that the favorite vegetable in Wisconsin is cheese.

Recently, scientists at Cornell and Brigham Young universities have discovered that school children will eat their school lunch veggies if you pay them to do so. They found that providing a reward increases vegetable eating by 80%. For a long time “incentives” have been used with children to improve reading habits or manage behavior, but is it really okay to bribe a kid to munch on a carrot?  What ever happened to, “It’s in front of you. Eat it!”

Sometimes the definition of “vegetable” is confusing. For instance, a tomato is a fruit that is called, “vegetable.” In the mid-1980s, after Congress cut one-billion-dollars from the Child Nutrition Program, the USDA came up with the brilliant idea of labeling Ketchup as a vegetable. Of course, they thought no one would remember that tomatoes are a fruit. Only a kid who puts green beans up his nose to entertain his friends would want tomato concentrate on his Fruit Loops.

Onions make me cry. I have never cried peeling an apple---unless I cut myself---then I cry. My father-in-law told my mother-in-law (who was a gourmet cook) that he didn’t want her to cook any dish that required onions. I asked her, “How can you make all those delicious dinners without using onions?” “Easy!” she replied. “I tell him that it’s celery.”

The only vegetable my mother liked was iceberg lettuce. She would take a cleaver, whack the head into 4 wedges, and smother the chunks with Thousand Island dressing. Then she would command, “Eat!” That cleaver was my “incentive.”

President George H.W. Bush raised a ruckus with farmers and the produce industry when he said, “I do not like broccoli, and I haven’t liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And, now that I’m President of the United States, I’m not going to eat any more broccoli!”

Often people will not like vegetables because of how they are prepared. On the East Coast, people enjoy their veggies blanched (barely cooked). They call them,
“Tender-crisp.” Southerners will bare a shotgun, send those vegetables right back to the kitchen, and yell, “ Cook my greens until I can suck ‘em through my teeth!”

I have several friends who are vegetarians. They have taught me that lamb chops are not vegetables. Since I like these people, I try to accommodate their dietary preferences and have prepared many vegetarian dishes. While looking for vegetarian recipes, I came across a good suggestion by Jim Davis who recommended that, “Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread and pumpkin pie.”

Also, since herbs in the strictest sense are vegetables (plant kingdom), I have discovered that chamomile tea (a plant of the daisy family) tastes, “Oh, so good” when prepared with a dollop of honey and a shot of whiskey (a vegetable made out of grain).  Works for me!

Esther Blumenfeld (“Do vegetarians eat animal crackers?”) Anonymous

GO FISH

Fishing is a sport that no one in my family or my husband’s family ever attempted. Well, that’s not entirely true. When my husband, Warren was in college, the story goes that he was asked to carry a case of beer for a fishing trip. But, when he jumped into the rowboat, it sank. A young woman screamed, “I can’t swim!” So Warren suggested that she stand up, since they were still at shore. Heroically, having his priority straight, he fished the beer out of the water, and was the only one to catch anything on the whole trip.

When our son, Josh was 4-years-old, we visited with our in-laws in Florida. They lived in a sub-division that was crisscrossed with water canals. Rumor had it that these canals were stocked with fish. Why else would people find alligators in their backyards? Of course, Josh’s grandpa Chuck could never say, “No!” to his favorite and only grandchild. So when Josh said, “Let’s go fish,” grandpa rigged a fishing pole out of rope and a broom handle. For bait, he used kosher salami. I didn’t know if alligators ate kosher salami, but found out that ducks love the stuff. Surrounded, by fowl, Josh, yelled, “You’re not fish!” tossed the fishing pole into the water and ran home as fast as his little legs could take him.

Dave Berry said, “Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it’s disgusting.”

I’ve gone fishing a couple of times in my life, and found that sitting around doing nothing on a sunny day, on the bank of a river, is just as good as sitting around the house. Of course, Steven Wright reminds us: ”There’s a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.”

I think there’s a certain romance in fishing, except no one ever told that to the fish, and drowning innocent worms seems not so nice. Fishing is a little like golf, except it’s only acceptable to hit a fish with a club if you are out in the middle of the ocean, and no one can see you.

If I remember the theory of evolution correctly, creatures came out of the sea and acclimated to dry land. Had man paid attention, we could have learned some lessons from this experience. Fish don’t have any problems until they open their mouths.

Eating fish can be a dangerous experience. The Japanese have a delicacy called “Fugu.” (poisonous Pufferfish). It is very expensive and can be more deadly than cyanide if not prepared correctly. I don’t know how it tastes because I’m not partial to cyanide, but Fugu appears on more than 80 menus in Japan. The chef has to be a licensed Fugu cook. I don’t know if you have to sign a release before eating the dish, but if it isn’t prepared correctly, your lips swell and you die before you can send it back to the kitchen.

On a happier note, I thought I’d give Josh a chance to redeem himself after the salami escapade. This is what he said: “The last time I went fishing was with a neighbor in New York City. We went out in Sheepshead Bay near Coney Island. I think I actually caught a sheep’s head. It was on a party barge, without the party. You could keep what you caught, including any diseases inhabiting the fish. Going fishing in New York City is kind of like owning a Porche convertible in Alaska---it’s possible, but it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

Esther Blumenfeld (angling for a Carp-e diem.)