C. Henry Martens's Blog, page 19
October 15, 2015
Accountable to None
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
By Jo Baert (Own work)
[CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b...)], via Wikimedia Commons
I have recently been thrust into a phenomenon that I have been cognizant of but was unaware that it had become so incredibly flagrant. Not just that, but it is apparent that the act is intentional and orchestrated to deny those who can least afford to fight it any opportunity for redress. What is that act? It is the intentional insulation of organizations/businesses/providers/people in charge from those they purport to serve.
Of whom am I speaking? Pretty much any person or organization that can afford a lawyer, a receptionist, or a cell phone that blocks the caller’s number. So I could be talking about you.
Look, I know people are busy. I know that schedules must be met, that time is money, and that dimple dicked CEO’s hide from responsibility to make money. Time is the excuse… but ducking refunds is the motive.
How many times do you complain when you get poor service or a shoddy product? C’mon… be truthful to yourself. There’s nobody here but us chickens, and we aren’t in the broadcasting business.
The reason you don’t complain is because you have been trained to be silent. You have been trained to take your lumps. To bow to circumstance, to take it in the shorts when you spend hard earned money on a cheap product that doesn’t work right out of the box or breaks after only a few uses. You are so used to it that you are embarrassed by others who complain too loudly. You think it is normal to turn and walk away. We all do it. We feel that immediate frustration over throwing away good money and effort in acquiring something we expect to function well… and then we throw up our hands and shake our heads, calm down and get philosophical. Society does not allow us to “go postal” over getting screwed. We are only allowed to be nebbishes together. A group that meekly takes what we get.
And we have done it to ourselves.
How?
We allowed those that sell us stuff to run and hide so far away that it seems unreasonable to chase them down and make them perform as they were PAID TO DO.
Do you see the correlation? How we have enabled bad service? And how those in business take advantage by creating an ever more complicated maze? It’s all about upping the ante. If they can make it too expensive in time and effort for you to complain, they win.
Have you tried complaining recently? I mean a legitimate grievance where you expect some kind of appropriate satisfaction? I do it all the time, and I can tell you that it is getting increasingly difficult to hold a company’s feet to the fire. They hide behind layers of insulation.
From mold on bacon, to being over-billed by a medical facility, to expecting public education to teach something of value, we scream into an ever growing black hole.
First you have to find contact information. Then you find out that their “server is having difficulty,” or “call volume is unusually high, but your call is important to us.” Even if connected to a live person, the traditional phone call is torpedoed to some deep abyss. There you talk to someone who either can’t understand the problem because he has never seen the product or can’t speak the language of the country you are calling from and where you purchased the product well enough to provide assistance. If they get frustrated right away or are too busy to act interested, they put you through the “Oh, let-me-transfer-you-to-the-appropriate-department” shuffle.
What really torques me is these are the guys at the top of the food chain, the ones in charge. When they get interviewed in their multi million dollar suits about their huge profits and massive success, these are the same guys that rail against higher taxes and scream that people in the “lower classes” lack responsibility.
REALLY?
Tell us about your recent customer “service” nightmares in the comments below. And if you actually have had exceptional service recently, we'd like to hear that, too.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
By Jo Baert (Own work)[CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/b...)], via Wikimedia Commons
I have recently been thrust into a phenomenon that I have been cognizant of but was unaware that it had become so incredibly flagrant. Not just that, but it is apparent that the act is intentional and orchestrated to deny those who can least afford to fight it any opportunity for redress. What is that act? It is the intentional insulation of organizations/businesses/providers/people in charge from those they purport to serve.
Of whom am I speaking? Pretty much any person or organization that can afford a lawyer, a receptionist, or a cell phone that blocks the caller’s number. So I could be talking about you.
Look, I know people are busy. I know that schedules must be met, that time is money, and that dimple dicked CEO’s hide from responsibility to make money. Time is the excuse… but ducking refunds is the motive.
How many times do you complain when you get poor service or a shoddy product? C’mon… be truthful to yourself. There’s nobody here but us chickens, and we aren’t in the broadcasting business.
The reason you don’t complain is because you have been trained to be silent. You have been trained to take your lumps. To bow to circumstance, to take it in the shorts when you spend hard earned money on a cheap product that doesn’t work right out of the box or breaks after only a few uses. You are so used to it that you are embarrassed by others who complain too loudly. You think it is normal to turn and walk away. We all do it. We feel that immediate frustration over throwing away good money and effort in acquiring something we expect to function well… and then we throw up our hands and shake our heads, calm down and get philosophical. Society does not allow us to “go postal” over getting screwed. We are only allowed to be nebbishes together. A group that meekly takes what we get.
And we have done it to ourselves.
How?
We allowed those that sell us stuff to run and hide so far away that it seems unreasonable to chase them down and make them perform as they were PAID TO DO.
Do you see the correlation? How we have enabled bad service? And how those in business take advantage by creating an ever more complicated maze? It’s all about upping the ante. If they can make it too expensive in time and effort for you to complain, they win.
Have you tried complaining recently? I mean a legitimate grievance where you expect some kind of appropriate satisfaction? I do it all the time, and I can tell you that it is getting increasingly difficult to hold a company’s feet to the fire. They hide behind layers of insulation.
From mold on bacon, to being over-billed by a medical facility, to expecting public education to teach something of value, we scream into an ever growing black hole.
First you have to find contact information. Then you find out that their “server is having difficulty,” or “call volume is unusually high, but your call is important to us.” Even if connected to a live person, the traditional phone call is torpedoed to some deep abyss. There you talk to someone who either can’t understand the problem because he has never seen the product or can’t speak the language of the country you are calling from and where you purchased the product well enough to provide assistance. If they get frustrated right away or are too busy to act interested, they put you through the “Oh, let-me-transfer-you-to-the-appropriate-department” shuffle.
What really torques me is these are the guys at the top of the food chain, the ones in charge. When they get interviewed in their multi million dollar suits about their huge profits and massive success, these are the same guys that rail against higher taxes and scream that people in the “lower classes” lack responsibility.
REALLY?
Tell us about your recent customer “service” nightmares in the comments below. And if you actually have had exceptional service recently, we'd like to hear that, too.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
October 9, 2015
Survival, Ant-Style
©2015 Kari Carlisle
Ants. Fascinating little buggers when they’re not disrupting your picnic or biting you. They live in colonies, their entire existence apparently to protect and serve the queens. The needs of the one, the queen, outweigh the needs of the few or the many. Hmm, Spock was right.
As children, many of us kept ants between two sheets of glass in our bedrooms or classrooms to watch in amazement as they dig their holes and take care of the queen’s eggs. I recently read that ants are the true inheritors of the earth, covering nearly every continent with massive colonies and even waging war with each other. It’s thought that when humans are gone, ants will continue on. Sorry, cockroaches.
Much can be learned from ants – how they hunt and find their way back to the colony, how they communicate, how they cooperate. How they survive.
In the wake of tragedy, National Geographic reported this week that fire ants in South Carolina were observed creating living life rafts to stay above the flooding that has destroyed whole human communities and killed several people. The ants join together to form a floating mass of ants with the queen protected in the center. Fine hairs on their bodies create an air bubble that keeps the bottom ants from drowning. If not picked off by predators, an ant-raft can stay afloat for weeks, eventually delivering the queen to dry land and a new home for her colony. Fascinating little buggers. Ants.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Ants. Fascinating little buggers when they’re not disrupting your picnic or biting you. They live in colonies, their entire existence apparently to protect and serve the queens. The needs of the one, the queen, outweigh the needs of the few or the many. Hmm, Spock was right.
As children, many of us kept ants between two sheets of glass in our bedrooms or classrooms to watch in amazement as they dig their holes and take care of the queen’s eggs. I recently read that ants are the true inheritors of the earth, covering nearly every continent with massive colonies and even waging war with each other. It’s thought that when humans are gone, ants will continue on. Sorry, cockroaches.
Much can be learned from ants – how they hunt and find their way back to the colony, how they communicate, how they cooperate. How they survive.
In the wake of tragedy, National Geographic reported this week that fire ants in South Carolina were observed creating living life rafts to stay above the flooding that has destroyed whole human communities and killed several people. The ants join together to form a floating mass of ants with the queen protected in the center. Fine hairs on their bodies create an air bubble that keeps the bottom ants from drowning. If not picked off by predators, an ant-raft can stay afloat for weeks, eventually delivering the queen to dry land and a new home for her colony. Fascinating little buggers. Ants.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
October 2, 2015
Short Story: What Right Costs Too Much?
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
Image courtesy of jk1991 at freedigitalimages.net
Disclosure: contains mature language
I was watching the Machine put on his boot. He was struggling, just as we all did, and just as we all did, he would do it on his own or die trying. The appliances that took the place of his arms were old, but the shiny metal foot was new, the latest result of another justified Purple Heart in the struggle to keep a nation free.
He had earned the name, “Machine.” A big, barrel chested Mexican, with the typical dark complexion and features of his Aztec ancestors, he had earned the reputation of overcoming whatever blocked his progress toward a goal. Thus… Machine. He was a beast in combat, so focused that when his first arm was blown off, he switched over to his remaining one and wasted the next several ragheads that were stupid enough to think he was out of commission. And all the while singing his death song, La Vida Loca. He was a crazy muther and the guy you wanted beside you in the next cycle, arm or not.
The military saw it that way, too. It seemed like every rotation took a piece, not just from the Machine, but from all of us… and they shipped us back for more.
Now Machine was trying to tie a knot, a perfect bow in his boot lace. I had tried to talk him into using one of the Velcro alternatives, available from the V.A. that patched us up and spat us back out, but he was not hearing it. He was going to tie the knot.
I looked around the big therapy room, recognizing too many of the ambulatory wounded who had been given special attention because we had all volunteered to go back into the fight.
Suddenly, “Mother Fucker!” A crash, and I saw the table to the right of the Machine split into two pieces, chips flying and his wheelchair scootching backward until he slammed his appliance into the spokes. A sharp, “PING,” and I knew one of them had snapped.
A cheer rose from the occupants of the room, a celebration of understanding from men and women who were making the same efforts, failing, and rising to struggle again.
Looking sheepish, Machine grinned and waved, his anger already evaporating.
Two hours later and several outbursts from around the room, two perfect bows graced the Machine’s boots. I wheeled over and gave him a high five, our arms clanking as metal collided. Kanishwa, a woman who still had her arms, gave him a thumbs up from across the room, unable to vocalize with no lower jaw. Others mumbled and smiled or yelled like crazy depending on their comfort level and passion.
One of the nurses pushed the double doors open with her butt as she entered, carrying the mail. The highlight of the day, everyone who could crowded ‘round. The mail was dispensed in a hurry, as the nurse knew that her charges were impatient, and she would feel the pinch of a hard metal hand on her derriere if she was too slow.
I took my letter, the only one I would get, and retreated to my corner to gorge on what it contained. Thank “whatever” for little sisters. Everyone else had abandoned me. Another common experience for the people I hang with. There is little in common to talk about with those in The World.
Halfway through, a sound never heard interrupted my thirst. It was the Machine, crying…
This man, the guy I had seen raging at danger and impossible odds as he saved lives and fought his way through injury and adrenaline fueled despair… was weeping uncontrollably.
Tears were not unknown here. They were often the result of angry frustration, or occasionally, not often, temporary self pity. But Machine was not one to waste his time on leakage. He was a killer, not a crier.
“It ain’t right,” I heard him mumble. “It ain’t right.” Machine’s head was bowed to his chest, his shoulder’s trembling, the letter he was holding now drooping from his fingers as though it was forgotten and would soon drop to the floor.
I held back. Between men, it is best to let sorrow or anguish pass… but our favorite therapist didn’t see it that way. Mindy slid to the floor before the Machine and draped her arms around him, cooing soft assurance.
“Its okay, its okay… it’ll be alright. Whatever it is, we’ll get past it.”
“Getting’ past it ain’t an option.” Machine lamented, “This has to be dealt with. It ain’t right.”
He shoved the letter into her hands, insisting that she read the words that burned.
I moved closer in my wheelchair, curious.
Before I could get close, Mindy crumpled the paper in anguish, and tears sprung from her eyes.
“Oh, God, not again. It can’t be happening again. It’s not right. Not again.”
Machine looked up. “What do you mean, again? What?”
“My mother… you know… she died last July. Same thing. I’ll be paying for it the rest of my life, and I couldn’t keep up. That’s why she died.”
A dark cloud descended on the Machine as his eyes went black. I could see the anger come over him, as I had seen it before. I moved forward in case he was unable to control it.
But I was surprised as he spoke softly, “You mean she was on it, too? That she was doing the drug, too? And she was doing okay, but you couldn’t afford to buy it? To keep her alive? Like my little sister?”
Taking her turn to sob, the tables turned and Machine providing the comfort, Mindy wailed, “I feel so guilty. I could have kept her alive! If I could have just worked harder. If I could have pulled a few more shifts. Hell, I could have sold my car and walked to work.”
I locked eyes with Machine. We both remembered the extra duty Mindy had pulled a few months ago. We had thought it was because of us, and we razzed her about it, suggesting that she was in love with one of us. That would have been better.Machine took the crumpled paper from Mindy’s hand and shoved it at me.
I read. The letter was from his mother, a woman who had raised her kids with love, despite an abusive marriage. To cut to the chase, her youngest, the light of the entire family, had been fighting the good fight against cancer for the last couple of years and winning. That was the good news.
A couple of other vets crowded up in back of me, asking the Machine’s permission with that silent communication so common to brother’s in arms. He invited them just as silently.
The meds keeping the young woman alive were working and her only hope. But the price kept rising. Even with insurance the costs had gone from 28K a year to just north of 50K, and now… three years later… approaching 90K. And that was the deductible. The family was tapped out. Decent jobs with hard working people coming together to help were not keeping up. Homes were sold, repairs were delayed, and meals were missed in order to buy medication that would succeed in keeping a loved one alive… but the price was too high, and a conclusion had been reached. A little sister was going to die rather than bankrupt the family any further. There were other children, other responsibilities.
I wiped tears as I tried to make it seem that I had something in my eye. I could see that no one was fooled.
Ghillie, our resident sniper with the terrible head injury spoke from behind me, a rare occurrence as he was embarrassed by his injury-caused stuttering.
“I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, hadda, a, a, a, uncle that d, d, d, d, d, died. Some, some, some, kinda drug called G, G Glee-something. W, w, w, way expen, s, s, sive.”
I looked around and pretty much everyone had tears in their eyes. The story had passed verbally and quietly from one to another, and there was a lot of silence as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. The woman with no jaw, Kanishwa, cupped Ghillie’s head in her hands and kissed his forehead, close to his scar.
“It ain’t right.” My Mexican compadre was shaking his head, his brow knit in a tight crease.
A new guy, Beefcake, spoke up. He had arrived early yesterday with a freshly amputated arm from below the elbow.
“Is this kinda thing what we’re fighting for?”
The question was an ongoing concern as we watched from our own special perspective. We had seen many things going on in The World that troubled us. But we had a job to do, and usually we damped our own thoughts down and swallowed what we got.
This time the blow had hit home. People we loved and admired were involved.
The Beef spoke up again. “This is terrorism, too, guys. It’s domestic terrorism, just like planes or bullets or bombs among our kids and wives. It ain’t right.”
“How do they get away with it? I just don’t get it. What makes us take it?” asked Machine.Someone behind me spoke up. “The way I understand it, they sell the same drug in other countries for way less. It costs something like fifty to eighty times more here in the U.S.”
I didn’t see who said it and didn’t recognize the voice. Maybe because it was choked up.
Mindy offered, “It’s their right. They do the research, and it costs a lot of money. They set the price based on what it costs them to produce.”
A thought had been forming in my head, “Then why do they charge less until the drug is proven to work? And then they jack the price up to the sky? Why is that? They need another swimming pool or Beemer?”
Silence.
Finally, “It ain’t right,” and Machine’s eyes went from black to an even darker shade of rage.
“I’d like to know who makes these decisions,” the sniper, Ghillie, spoke softly. We could all imagine what he meant.
I said, “They might have other priorities if their ‘rights’ were defined by the same things that defined the rights of the people dying of cancer.”
“Booyah, baby,” agreed Ghillie, and several others joined in…
“Booyah, booyah, booyah…”
The Machine seemed to come to a decision. “We can’t save my little sister. Too late for that. But we all know what’s right. The trick is to find out who makes these decisions and set a price of our own. We swore an oath… foreign and domestic…”
We all knew what he meant.
Mindy spoke up.
“My older brother is a retired cop. He makes his living now as a private investigator.”
This story is inspired by actual events that are ongoing in the United States of America and are not being addressed by political, religious, or legal power, unless it is to defend the practice of price gouging. Learn more.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Image courtesy of jk1991 at freedigitalimages.netDisclosure: contains mature language
I was watching the Machine put on his boot. He was struggling, just as we all did, and just as we all did, he would do it on his own or die trying. The appliances that took the place of his arms were old, but the shiny metal foot was new, the latest result of another justified Purple Heart in the struggle to keep a nation free.
He had earned the name, “Machine.” A big, barrel chested Mexican, with the typical dark complexion and features of his Aztec ancestors, he had earned the reputation of overcoming whatever blocked his progress toward a goal. Thus… Machine. He was a beast in combat, so focused that when his first arm was blown off, he switched over to his remaining one and wasted the next several ragheads that were stupid enough to think he was out of commission. And all the while singing his death song, La Vida Loca. He was a crazy muther and the guy you wanted beside you in the next cycle, arm or not.
The military saw it that way, too. It seemed like every rotation took a piece, not just from the Machine, but from all of us… and they shipped us back for more.
Now Machine was trying to tie a knot, a perfect bow in his boot lace. I had tried to talk him into using one of the Velcro alternatives, available from the V.A. that patched us up and spat us back out, but he was not hearing it. He was going to tie the knot.
I looked around the big therapy room, recognizing too many of the ambulatory wounded who had been given special attention because we had all volunteered to go back into the fight.
Suddenly, “Mother Fucker!” A crash, and I saw the table to the right of the Machine split into two pieces, chips flying and his wheelchair scootching backward until he slammed his appliance into the spokes. A sharp, “PING,” and I knew one of them had snapped.
A cheer rose from the occupants of the room, a celebration of understanding from men and women who were making the same efforts, failing, and rising to struggle again.
Looking sheepish, Machine grinned and waved, his anger already evaporating.
Two hours later and several outbursts from around the room, two perfect bows graced the Machine’s boots. I wheeled over and gave him a high five, our arms clanking as metal collided. Kanishwa, a woman who still had her arms, gave him a thumbs up from across the room, unable to vocalize with no lower jaw. Others mumbled and smiled or yelled like crazy depending on their comfort level and passion.
One of the nurses pushed the double doors open with her butt as she entered, carrying the mail. The highlight of the day, everyone who could crowded ‘round. The mail was dispensed in a hurry, as the nurse knew that her charges were impatient, and she would feel the pinch of a hard metal hand on her derriere if she was too slow.
I took my letter, the only one I would get, and retreated to my corner to gorge on what it contained. Thank “whatever” for little sisters. Everyone else had abandoned me. Another common experience for the people I hang with. There is little in common to talk about with those in The World.
Halfway through, a sound never heard interrupted my thirst. It was the Machine, crying…
This man, the guy I had seen raging at danger and impossible odds as he saved lives and fought his way through injury and adrenaline fueled despair… was weeping uncontrollably.
Tears were not unknown here. They were often the result of angry frustration, or occasionally, not often, temporary self pity. But Machine was not one to waste his time on leakage. He was a killer, not a crier.
“It ain’t right,” I heard him mumble. “It ain’t right.” Machine’s head was bowed to his chest, his shoulder’s trembling, the letter he was holding now drooping from his fingers as though it was forgotten and would soon drop to the floor.
I held back. Between men, it is best to let sorrow or anguish pass… but our favorite therapist didn’t see it that way. Mindy slid to the floor before the Machine and draped her arms around him, cooing soft assurance.
“Its okay, its okay… it’ll be alright. Whatever it is, we’ll get past it.”
“Getting’ past it ain’t an option.” Machine lamented, “This has to be dealt with. It ain’t right.”
He shoved the letter into her hands, insisting that she read the words that burned.
I moved closer in my wheelchair, curious.
Before I could get close, Mindy crumpled the paper in anguish, and tears sprung from her eyes.
“Oh, God, not again. It can’t be happening again. It’s not right. Not again.”
Machine looked up. “What do you mean, again? What?”
“My mother… you know… she died last July. Same thing. I’ll be paying for it the rest of my life, and I couldn’t keep up. That’s why she died.”
A dark cloud descended on the Machine as his eyes went black. I could see the anger come over him, as I had seen it before. I moved forward in case he was unable to control it.
But I was surprised as he spoke softly, “You mean she was on it, too? That she was doing the drug, too? And she was doing okay, but you couldn’t afford to buy it? To keep her alive? Like my little sister?”
Taking her turn to sob, the tables turned and Machine providing the comfort, Mindy wailed, “I feel so guilty. I could have kept her alive! If I could have just worked harder. If I could have pulled a few more shifts. Hell, I could have sold my car and walked to work.”
I locked eyes with Machine. We both remembered the extra duty Mindy had pulled a few months ago. We had thought it was because of us, and we razzed her about it, suggesting that she was in love with one of us. That would have been better.Machine took the crumpled paper from Mindy’s hand and shoved it at me.
I read. The letter was from his mother, a woman who had raised her kids with love, despite an abusive marriage. To cut to the chase, her youngest, the light of the entire family, had been fighting the good fight against cancer for the last couple of years and winning. That was the good news.
A couple of other vets crowded up in back of me, asking the Machine’s permission with that silent communication so common to brother’s in arms. He invited them just as silently.
The meds keeping the young woman alive were working and her only hope. But the price kept rising. Even with insurance the costs had gone from 28K a year to just north of 50K, and now… three years later… approaching 90K. And that was the deductible. The family was tapped out. Decent jobs with hard working people coming together to help were not keeping up. Homes were sold, repairs were delayed, and meals were missed in order to buy medication that would succeed in keeping a loved one alive… but the price was too high, and a conclusion had been reached. A little sister was going to die rather than bankrupt the family any further. There were other children, other responsibilities.
I wiped tears as I tried to make it seem that I had something in my eye. I could see that no one was fooled.
Ghillie, our resident sniper with the terrible head injury spoke from behind me, a rare occurrence as he was embarrassed by his injury-caused stuttering.
“I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, hadda, a, a, a, uncle that d, d, d, d, d, died. Some, some, some, kinda drug called G, G Glee-something. W, w, w, way expen, s, s, sive.”
I looked around and pretty much everyone had tears in their eyes. The story had passed verbally and quietly from one to another, and there was a lot of silence as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. The woman with no jaw, Kanishwa, cupped Ghillie’s head in her hands and kissed his forehead, close to his scar.
“It ain’t right.” My Mexican compadre was shaking his head, his brow knit in a tight crease.
A new guy, Beefcake, spoke up. He had arrived early yesterday with a freshly amputated arm from below the elbow.
“Is this kinda thing what we’re fighting for?”
The question was an ongoing concern as we watched from our own special perspective. We had seen many things going on in The World that troubled us. But we had a job to do, and usually we damped our own thoughts down and swallowed what we got.
This time the blow had hit home. People we loved and admired were involved.
The Beef spoke up again. “This is terrorism, too, guys. It’s domestic terrorism, just like planes or bullets or bombs among our kids and wives. It ain’t right.”
“How do they get away with it? I just don’t get it. What makes us take it?” asked Machine.Someone behind me spoke up. “The way I understand it, they sell the same drug in other countries for way less. It costs something like fifty to eighty times more here in the U.S.”
I didn’t see who said it and didn’t recognize the voice. Maybe because it was choked up.
Mindy offered, “It’s their right. They do the research, and it costs a lot of money. They set the price based on what it costs them to produce.”
A thought had been forming in my head, “Then why do they charge less until the drug is proven to work? And then they jack the price up to the sky? Why is that? They need another swimming pool or Beemer?”
Silence.
Finally, “It ain’t right,” and Machine’s eyes went from black to an even darker shade of rage.
“I’d like to know who makes these decisions,” the sniper, Ghillie, spoke softly. We could all imagine what he meant.
I said, “They might have other priorities if their ‘rights’ were defined by the same things that defined the rights of the people dying of cancer.”
“Booyah, baby,” agreed Ghillie, and several others joined in…
“Booyah, booyah, booyah…”
The Machine seemed to come to a decision. “We can’t save my little sister. Too late for that. But we all know what’s right. The trick is to find out who makes these decisions and set a price of our own. We swore an oath… foreign and domestic…”
We all knew what he meant.
Mindy spoke up.
“My older brother is a retired cop. He makes his living now as a private investigator.”
This story is inspired by actual events that are ongoing in the United States of America and are not being addressed by political, religious, or legal power, unless it is to defend the practice of price gouging. Learn more.
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
September 25, 2015
Energy for the Trail
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
We Call it Gorp, But It's Energy for the Trail
I don’t buy commercial trail mix, and I hike a lot and need something to energize my feet on the trail. So the question becomes what to pack? Something light. Something that won’t spoil. Something ready to eat. Something… yummy.
I know! Gorp!
Where the name came from, I have not a clue. But the gang I hiked with in my college age days used the term, and my mind has always clung to the word. If you google it, they even have a definition and some history. Some say it is an acronym for “good old raisins & peanuts,” but the word was defined as early as 1913 in the Oxford English Dictionary as a verb, "gorp," meaning "to eat greedily." Trail mix is mentioned as early as 1833 in Danish literature, where it is known as “student oats.” New Zealanders call it “scroggin.”
Whatever you call it, the stuff is easy to make in large quantities, storable, and good nutrition for the long haul.
I start with cashews. I know… most commercial trail mix is based on peanuts, but this is not commercially cheapened, marginally edible, past due date or should be, dry, nasty, crud-that-requires-water-to-choke-down-and-gum-to-drown-the-flavor. I buy my cashews at Costco through a friend who thinks paying for membership is a privilege. I used to get a two and a half pound container for about eight bucks, but they are significantly more now and still worth it. At almost fourteen bucks, cashews are still my favorite. Make sure they are SALTED. Very important to have salt replaced when hiking.
The basic recipe is:Two and a half pounds of salted cashews (Kirkland whole fancy cashews, Costco)One pound of almonds (Blue Diamond whole natural almonds, Walmart)Ten ounces of dried cherries (Kirkland tart Montmorency cherries, Costco)Half a 19.2 oz. bag of dark chocolate M&M’s (purple bag, Walmart)
We use the accumulated cashew containers to store the mix.
Now, if these ingredients aren’t good enough, you can add all kinds of things. Craisins instead of/or with the cherries. Dried blueberries. Banana chips or dried apples. Raisins! I stay away from dried fruit that can be gooey. I dearly love apricots, but in my opinion they don’t mix well with stuff that clings.
Try some sunflower seeds if you like, but even better some green pumpkin seeds. Hey, even the lowly peanut… just not too many. Coconut? Sure, why not? There ain’t no rules here!
One warning, if you leave this stuff out when friends or relatives visit, it will disappear. So stash some away for your own use.
Happy trails!
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www.readmota.com
We Call it Gorp, But It's Energy for the Trail
I don’t buy commercial trail mix, and I hike a lot and need something to energize my feet on the trail. So the question becomes what to pack? Something light. Something that won’t spoil. Something ready to eat. Something… yummy.
I know! Gorp!
Where the name came from, I have not a clue. But the gang I hiked with in my college age days used the term, and my mind has always clung to the word. If you google it, they even have a definition and some history. Some say it is an acronym for “good old raisins & peanuts,” but the word was defined as early as 1913 in the Oxford English Dictionary as a verb, "gorp," meaning "to eat greedily." Trail mix is mentioned as early as 1833 in Danish literature, where it is known as “student oats.” New Zealanders call it “scroggin.”
Whatever you call it, the stuff is easy to make in large quantities, storable, and good nutrition for the long haul.
I start with cashews. I know… most commercial trail mix is based on peanuts, but this is not commercially cheapened, marginally edible, past due date or should be, dry, nasty, crud-that-requires-water-to-choke-down-and-gum-to-drown-the-flavor. I buy my cashews at Costco through a friend who thinks paying for membership is a privilege. I used to get a two and a half pound container for about eight bucks, but they are significantly more now and still worth it. At almost fourteen bucks, cashews are still my favorite. Make sure they are SALTED. Very important to have salt replaced when hiking.
The basic recipe is:Two and a half pounds of salted cashews (Kirkland whole fancy cashews, Costco)One pound of almonds (Blue Diamond whole natural almonds, Walmart)Ten ounces of dried cherries (Kirkland tart Montmorency cherries, Costco)Half a 19.2 oz. bag of dark chocolate M&M’s (purple bag, Walmart)
We use the accumulated cashew containers to store the mix.
Now, if these ingredients aren’t good enough, you can add all kinds of things. Craisins instead of/or with the cherries. Dried blueberries. Banana chips or dried apples. Raisins! I stay away from dried fruit that can be gooey. I dearly love apricots, but in my opinion they don’t mix well with stuff that clings.
Try some sunflower seeds if you like, but even better some green pumpkin seeds. Hey, even the lowly peanut… just not too many. Coconut? Sure, why not? There ain’t no rules here!
One warning, if you leave this stuff out when friends or relatives visit, it will disappear. So stash some away for your own use.
Happy trails!
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
September 18, 2015
Movie Review: Ex Machina
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
A Movie to Creep Us Out
5 stars, a film that should appeal to the scientifically minded and those with an appreciation for what the future may hold. Much more realistic than most of this genre and therefore thought provoking.
How fun has it been to anticipate artificial intelligence? To wonder at what form it will take? What abilities it will have? How benign it will be… or sinister it will become?
This film, Ex Machina , explores the idea that a robot can become manipulative. That it will develop motives and act in its own best interests. That it could acquire a survival criteria and learn to lie. And most problematic, that a synthetic brain will have no conscience or will not place value in the same ways that a human finds acceptable.
We aren’t talking about a sophisticated toaster here. This is a machine with a face full of big, liquid, doe eyes, smooth, flawless skin, and pouty red lips. Even though the rest of the mechanical structure is exposed, it is a fully feminine form with plenty of curves and nuanced gender specific movement. What human being can resist feeling an attachment to something so apparently innocent?
What happens if an artificial brain learns? I mean, isn’t that the whole point? To create a learning machine? What happens… when it has, as example, a human being? Will it overcome our base tendencies and deny them to become a better-than-the-creator, us, being? Or will it study what is placed in front of it and become a manipulator, liar, hoarder, competitor on steroids? Are we the best example of what is to become? Picture your neighbor but magnified a hundred or a thousand times in every foible, every petty machination.
At least robots won’t be alcoholics. But they will have alcoholics that act as mentors.
Ex Machina, now available on Digital HD and Blu-Ray,is a movie that brings all of these thoughts to mind. The film provides answers, but any person with an imagination will come away with more questions than the movie can possibly provide.
Will there be a sequel? I can’t wait… but I’m already apprehensive.
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www.readmota.com
A Movie to Creep Us Out
5 stars, a film that should appeal to the scientifically minded and those with an appreciation for what the future may hold. Much more realistic than most of this genre and therefore thought provoking.
How fun has it been to anticipate artificial intelligence? To wonder at what form it will take? What abilities it will have? How benign it will be… or sinister it will become?
This film, Ex Machina , explores the idea that a robot can become manipulative. That it will develop motives and act in its own best interests. That it could acquire a survival criteria and learn to lie. And most problematic, that a synthetic brain will have no conscience or will not place value in the same ways that a human finds acceptable.
We aren’t talking about a sophisticated toaster here. This is a machine with a face full of big, liquid, doe eyes, smooth, flawless skin, and pouty red lips. Even though the rest of the mechanical structure is exposed, it is a fully feminine form with plenty of curves and nuanced gender specific movement. What human being can resist feeling an attachment to something so apparently innocent?
What happens if an artificial brain learns? I mean, isn’t that the whole point? To create a learning machine? What happens… when it has, as example, a human being? Will it overcome our base tendencies and deny them to become a better-than-the-creator, us, being? Or will it study what is placed in front of it and become a manipulator, liar, hoarder, competitor on steroids? Are we the best example of what is to become? Picture your neighbor but magnified a hundred or a thousand times in every foible, every petty machination.
At least robots won’t be alcoholics. But they will have alcoholics that act as mentors.
Ex Machina, now available on Digital HD and Blu-Ray,is a movie that brings all of these thoughts to mind. The film provides answers, but any person with an imagination will come away with more questions than the movie can possibly provide.
Will there be a sequel? I can’t wait… but I’m already apprehensive.
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www.readmota.com
September 11, 2015
Where Were You?
©2015 Kari Carlisle
Image courtesy of CDC/Dr. Edwin P. Ewing, Jr.
and Arvind Balaraman at freedigitalphotos.net
Every year on September eleventh, we observe the anniversary of a day as well-known in modern American history as D-Day and Pearl Harbor. Regardless of your views on the politics of the event, results of the investigation, and subsequent legislation affecting American freedoms, I’m sure you can remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.
We all can.
It was Day 2 of vacation in Hawaii (Big Island) with my husband and my parents. We were hurriedly getting ready to go “Flumin’ Da Ditch” when my husband flipped on the TV. I asked what he was doing; we didn’t have time for that. He said he just had a feeling, and he needed to see what was going on in the world. When every channel was showing the same “movie,” he paid attention and realized what was happening. The towers went down while we watched.
The four of us sat numbly in the living room, deciding what we should do. My dad’s wife didn’t want to proceed with our plans, but we convinced her that was exactly what we should do.
Once we arrived, waiting for the other participants of the tour was difficult. Many of them hadn’t heard, and we watched as the tour guides informed them and offered refunds if they chose not to go. Most, if not all, chose to stay for the tour.
Riding our kayaks through the historic irrigation canal, everyone was contemplative. The gentle rocking in the water seemed to keep everyone calm, like a child being rocked by her mother.
That night we attended the luau we had planned on. At our table we met a couple who had been flying from somewhere in Asia to Los Angeles. Their plane was grounded in Hawaii, but they didn’t know they were in Hawaii until after they got off the plane. They were on their way back to their home in New York City where their teenage son was anxiously waiting for them.
My husband and I spent two weeks on three islands. Every day we spent sightseeing and hiking, and every evening we went back to the hotel to catch up on the news. Beauty and fun during the day; tears and anxiety at night. That trip is indelibly etched in my mind, as I felt the horror of national tragedy while discovering the joy of being in paradise.
Where were you on 9/11?
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Image courtesy of CDC/Dr. Edwin P. Ewing, Jr.and Arvind Balaraman at freedigitalphotos.net
Every year on September eleventh, we observe the anniversary of a day as well-known in modern American history as D-Day and Pearl Harbor. Regardless of your views on the politics of the event, results of the investigation, and subsequent legislation affecting American freedoms, I’m sure you can remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.
We all can.
It was Day 2 of vacation in Hawaii (Big Island) with my husband and my parents. We were hurriedly getting ready to go “Flumin’ Da Ditch” when my husband flipped on the TV. I asked what he was doing; we didn’t have time for that. He said he just had a feeling, and he needed to see what was going on in the world. When every channel was showing the same “movie,” he paid attention and realized what was happening. The towers went down while we watched.
The four of us sat numbly in the living room, deciding what we should do. My dad’s wife didn’t want to proceed with our plans, but we convinced her that was exactly what we should do.
Once we arrived, waiting for the other participants of the tour was difficult. Many of them hadn’t heard, and we watched as the tour guides informed them and offered refunds if they chose not to go. Most, if not all, chose to stay for the tour.
Riding our kayaks through the historic irrigation canal, everyone was contemplative. The gentle rocking in the water seemed to keep everyone calm, like a child being rocked by her mother.
That night we attended the luau we had planned on. At our table we met a couple who had been flying from somewhere in Asia to Los Angeles. Their plane was grounded in Hawaii, but they didn’t know they were in Hawaii until after they got off the plane. They were on their way back to their home in New York City where their teenage son was anxiously waiting for them.
My husband and I spent two weeks on three islands. Every day we spent sightseeing and hiking, and every evening we went back to the hotel to catch up on the news. Beauty and fun during the day; tears and anxiety at night. That trip is indelibly etched in my mind, as I felt the horror of national tragedy while discovering the joy of being in paradise.
Where were you on 9/11?
Click HERE to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
September 4, 2015
Short Story: Saving Private Rhino
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
Rhinoceros In Kruger National Park
Image courtesy of suwatpo at www.freedigitalphotos.netHot. Dry grass, no longer green but sun-bleached a golden yellow and as dry as dust, stands shoulder high to the big, grey animal grazing beneath the sparse acacia trees. The preserve, owned in a philanthropic trust as a tax write-off, bakes under the African sun.
A small sound invades the concentration of the rhino, and she lifts her head as though to look around. Almost blind in the shimmering air that bends her visual cues, she is more likely scenting the air. She flaps her ears to rid them of flies, and dust forms a halo about her head. The tiny breeze blows it away slowly, toward the direction that drew her attention. The man with the silenced rifle goes unnoticed, downwind, and stands motionless under the disabled scrutiny of the chewing beast. He waits, and as she finds nothing to be concerned about, she drops her head to pick at the meager offerings once more.
Lifting his prize, the native African with the finely made but inexpensive weapon opens the burlap bag and drops the two chunks of horn inside. In his mind he is already spending the six hundred dollars he will receive. He has many relatives, they are all in need, and the money will not last. He knows he will have to hunt again soon. Looking back over his shoulder as he melts into the landscape, his thoughts are of getting caught, no concern at all for the many high protein meals the carcass could have provided.
The trip with Gisell into the Camargue, to the isolated cabin with the covered porch, had gone well. They would be living together as soon as she could sublet her Paris apartment. The lab knew nothing, and the two lovers would try to keep their relationship invisible. It was complicated working with an ex, but even moreso with two. Still, Marc smiled. Life was progressing and the past weekend excursion capped a week of great news. Getting the results from his private research had prompted his impulsive confidence and the sudden invitation from Gisell. He would do anything for Gisell.
The science Marc had become involved in was his own affair, he thought. Certainly he had not noticed any subtle manipulations from his love as he looked into her endless eyes. The company knew nothing about it, and would have disapproved had they known. Culturing genetically modified company fungus was one thing, but culturing and using company equipment on toe fungus… with no monetary gain… was another.
The trick was to add a mild irritant to the genetic structure of the mold and at the same time make it contagious to only two species. One, the rhino, with contagion occurring through natural contact, and the other a contagion through being ingested by human beings. The irritant would live in the rhino’s keratin horn as it grew, bothering the beast as a small itch that was impossible to scratch and eventually ignored. On the other hand, the fungus infecting the processed horn would make its way into the medicinal supplies of the East, and soon a classic epidemic of mild heartburn would follow any horn products that were swallowed. If that wasn’t enough to dissuade users, they would experience the opposite of what they desired by taking powdered horn. The irritant would pass from them with some stinging, through the urethra, and infect their partners. Soon those women would be turning down any advances due to discomfort during sex. They could be cured, but the source of the infection would eventually be pinpointed, and there would no longer be any reason to take a horn from a threatened species.
The science was much more complicated than the idea, but gene splicing had evolved, and Marc wasn’t afraid to work extra hours. After almost three years he delivered the fully developed mold to Gisell, and she infected one of the rehabbed rhinos at the sanctuary where she worked. From there the rhino passed his malady on to his paddock-mates. No one noticed, even with all of the testing done before the animal’s reentry into the wild. Neither Marc nor Gisell would know how many rhino would acquire the fungus, or how fast, but the process had begun. Any offspring born to infected mothers would acquire the fungus in their earliest encounters, and their horns would be infused as they grew. By the time they were adults their horns would be worthless for any man-made use.
Throwing the blood-soaked bag onto a scale, the middle-man grumbled. His profits were taking a hit recently due to the new fungus problem. The Asians were so picky and were now insisting that all horn be inspected before money changed hands. The bag came off the scales and the villager looked expectant. The man with the wallet explained that he would have to perform a new test, and he was relieved that the hunter had already heard of it. The buyer had made it policy to tell hunters to leave their weapons at home. There had been bloodshed over product being turned down.
The band saw sliced through the two horns like butter, from tip to base, dividing them. The foggy spots of golden mold were immediately apparent, and as the buyer raised them up to place them under the eyes of the hunter, the man’s face dropped. He knew his days in the heat were wasted, and this was the third time in a row. He wondered what he could get for the rifle. Maybe he should invest in some seed, because this line of work was becoming increasingly expensive.
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www.readmota.com
Rhinoceros In Kruger National ParkImage courtesy of suwatpo at www.freedigitalphotos.netHot. Dry grass, no longer green but sun-bleached a golden yellow and as dry as dust, stands shoulder high to the big, grey animal grazing beneath the sparse acacia trees. The preserve, owned in a philanthropic trust as a tax write-off, bakes under the African sun.
A small sound invades the concentration of the rhino, and she lifts her head as though to look around. Almost blind in the shimmering air that bends her visual cues, she is more likely scenting the air. She flaps her ears to rid them of flies, and dust forms a halo about her head. The tiny breeze blows it away slowly, toward the direction that drew her attention. The man with the silenced rifle goes unnoticed, downwind, and stands motionless under the disabled scrutiny of the chewing beast. He waits, and as she finds nothing to be concerned about, she drops her head to pick at the meager offerings once more.
Lifting his prize, the native African with the finely made but inexpensive weapon opens the burlap bag and drops the two chunks of horn inside. In his mind he is already spending the six hundred dollars he will receive. He has many relatives, they are all in need, and the money will not last. He knows he will have to hunt again soon. Looking back over his shoulder as he melts into the landscape, his thoughts are of getting caught, no concern at all for the many high protein meals the carcass could have provided.
The trip with Gisell into the Camargue, to the isolated cabin with the covered porch, had gone well. They would be living together as soon as she could sublet her Paris apartment. The lab knew nothing, and the two lovers would try to keep their relationship invisible. It was complicated working with an ex, but even moreso with two. Still, Marc smiled. Life was progressing and the past weekend excursion capped a week of great news. Getting the results from his private research had prompted his impulsive confidence and the sudden invitation from Gisell. He would do anything for Gisell.
The science Marc had become involved in was his own affair, he thought. Certainly he had not noticed any subtle manipulations from his love as he looked into her endless eyes. The company knew nothing about it, and would have disapproved had they known. Culturing genetically modified company fungus was one thing, but culturing and using company equipment on toe fungus… with no monetary gain… was another.
The trick was to add a mild irritant to the genetic structure of the mold and at the same time make it contagious to only two species. One, the rhino, with contagion occurring through natural contact, and the other a contagion through being ingested by human beings. The irritant would live in the rhino’s keratin horn as it grew, bothering the beast as a small itch that was impossible to scratch and eventually ignored. On the other hand, the fungus infecting the processed horn would make its way into the medicinal supplies of the East, and soon a classic epidemic of mild heartburn would follow any horn products that were swallowed. If that wasn’t enough to dissuade users, they would experience the opposite of what they desired by taking powdered horn. The irritant would pass from them with some stinging, through the urethra, and infect their partners. Soon those women would be turning down any advances due to discomfort during sex. They could be cured, but the source of the infection would eventually be pinpointed, and there would no longer be any reason to take a horn from a threatened species.
The science was much more complicated than the idea, but gene splicing had evolved, and Marc wasn’t afraid to work extra hours. After almost three years he delivered the fully developed mold to Gisell, and she infected one of the rehabbed rhinos at the sanctuary where she worked. From there the rhino passed his malady on to his paddock-mates. No one noticed, even with all of the testing done before the animal’s reentry into the wild. Neither Marc nor Gisell would know how many rhino would acquire the fungus, or how fast, but the process had begun. Any offspring born to infected mothers would acquire the fungus in their earliest encounters, and their horns would be infused as they grew. By the time they were adults their horns would be worthless for any man-made use.
Throwing the blood-soaked bag onto a scale, the middle-man grumbled. His profits were taking a hit recently due to the new fungus problem. The Asians were so picky and were now insisting that all horn be inspected before money changed hands. The bag came off the scales and the villager looked expectant. The man with the wallet explained that he would have to perform a new test, and he was relieved that the hunter had already heard of it. The buyer had made it policy to tell hunters to leave their weapons at home. There had been bloodshed over product being turned down.
The band saw sliced through the two horns like butter, from tip to base, dividing them. The foggy spots of golden mold were immediately apparent, and as the buyer raised them up to place them under the eyes of the hunter, the man’s face dropped. He knew his days in the heat were wasted, and this was the third time in a row. He wondered what he could get for the rifle. Maybe he should invest in some seed, because this line of work was becoming increasingly expensive.
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www.readmota.com
August 28, 2015
Short Story: Boiling Kittens
© 2015 C. Henry Martens
Image courtesy of graur razvan ionut and Boykung at freedigitalphotos.net
As courtrooms went, this one was larger than most. The trial had garnered a lot of press, more than had been expected as the issue went viral. So as the spectators started to line up for seats, the Honorable J. T. Sawyer, duly elected judge of the County of Stanley, had changed the venue to accommodate as many as possible.
In front of the jury box and in full view of the seated spectators, on a low table, the demonstration that Millicent Sandy, lawyer for the plaintiff, had devised was waiting to be implemented.
Four clear, tall beakers stood on portable heating elements, spaced evenly across the surface. Each was filled with a measured gallon of water, fully visible ten inches down from the top rim of the glass. Four mesh baskets with long handles, clearly designed to fit inside the beakers, stood to one side of each. The heat source cords had been taped together so the tangle wouldn’t distract from the demonstration and led to a single surge arrestor, plugged into a floor outlet installed during construction for just such a purpose.
Uncomfortable with her strategy, Millie was busy having second thoughts. She tried to avoid eye contact with her co-counsel, Nicholas Stratford, newly anointed into the practice of law and horrified as well by the prospect of what they were about to do.
A witness for the defense had just been grilled for the first hour and sat fully prepared to counter any questions posed by the plaintiff’s legal team. Richard Flynn wore a smug expression, an indication of his regard for the competence of those opposing his firm’s highly paid and highly regarded counsel.
Getting up and moving to the front of the jury box, trying to keep her voice from trembling, Millie engaged the twelve citizens selected to make a decision in the fate of her employer. Thinking of this, her resolve hardened. Whichever way it went, the point would be driven home in a way that she expected would illustrate to the jury the real consequences of the issue. Her intent was to make the defense responsible for the outcome, which of course was not only the point, but the truth in fact.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you will note the table before you,” Millie began, “and the four containers containing liquid heated to various temperatures. Please note that each has a visible thermometer that reads what the temperature of each container is as well as the contents within.”
All eyes were riveted on the equipment as intended. In an otherwise boring trial that had been filled with interminable questioning and bickering over minute details, the jury was interested in seeing something different.
“Mister Flynn, you have had a chance to inspect the demonstration and verify the accuracy of the temperatures.” asked counsel for the plaintiff. “Is this true?”
Richard Flynn nodded, barely noticeable to those watching. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I’ll remind you, Mister Flynn,” Judge Sawyer projected his deep bass across the courtroom, “that all answers must be verbal. And please speak up so the entire court can hear.”
Not used to being chastised, Richard sulked in his chair, but verbalized his response in the affirmative.
Millie hesitated and moved slowly to a position adjacent her chair. There was no going back now. She reached below and took a grip on the handle of the container beneath. It was light, a covered bird cage with barely anything to weigh it down. But that “barely” was what would make her case. She was confident the jury would understand the correlation to the facts of the case, the injuries involved, the danger and responsibilities that were being foisted off as though they did not matter.
She placed the cage on top of her counsel table and removed the hood that had kept the contents obscured.
There was an audible intake of breath from every corner of the courtroom.
Four kittens lay sleeping, lightly sedated, in the bottom of the cage. They appeared to be identical, obviously litter mates, and about six weeks old.
Opening the cage door and reaching inside, Millie removed one. She nuzzled it carefully as she cupped it beneath her chin and against her neck. It was warm, soft, and Millie could feel the kitten’s heart pulsing lightly within her grasp.
There was a crucial point to be made.
“Mister Flynn, your prior testimony has been that coffee can be served safely at a temperature of one-hundred and eighty degrees to a seventy-nine year old woman in a moving car. Because of this, you have maintained that your company holds no liability once the coffee passes through the window, even not knowing what the circumstances are where you are supplying one-hundred-eighty degree coffee.”
Millie turned to the jury, engaging their eyes in studied nonchalance.
“You, and the jury, will note that all of the containers positioned on the table are lower in increments of twenty degrees than your stated safe temperature. That means the lowest temperature of liquid on the table is one hundred degrees, and the highest is one hundred and sixty degrees. Please indicate the highest temperature at which you wish to demonstrate that the kitten is safe if submerged for one second, and we will begin.”
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www.readmota.com
Image courtesy of graur razvan ionut and Boykung at freedigitalphotos.netAs courtrooms went, this one was larger than most. The trial had garnered a lot of press, more than had been expected as the issue went viral. So as the spectators started to line up for seats, the Honorable J. T. Sawyer, duly elected judge of the County of Stanley, had changed the venue to accommodate as many as possible.
In front of the jury box and in full view of the seated spectators, on a low table, the demonstration that Millicent Sandy, lawyer for the plaintiff, had devised was waiting to be implemented.
Four clear, tall beakers stood on portable heating elements, spaced evenly across the surface. Each was filled with a measured gallon of water, fully visible ten inches down from the top rim of the glass. Four mesh baskets with long handles, clearly designed to fit inside the beakers, stood to one side of each. The heat source cords had been taped together so the tangle wouldn’t distract from the demonstration and led to a single surge arrestor, plugged into a floor outlet installed during construction for just such a purpose.
Uncomfortable with her strategy, Millie was busy having second thoughts. She tried to avoid eye contact with her co-counsel, Nicholas Stratford, newly anointed into the practice of law and horrified as well by the prospect of what they were about to do.
A witness for the defense had just been grilled for the first hour and sat fully prepared to counter any questions posed by the plaintiff’s legal team. Richard Flynn wore a smug expression, an indication of his regard for the competence of those opposing his firm’s highly paid and highly regarded counsel.
Getting up and moving to the front of the jury box, trying to keep her voice from trembling, Millie engaged the twelve citizens selected to make a decision in the fate of her employer. Thinking of this, her resolve hardened. Whichever way it went, the point would be driven home in a way that she expected would illustrate to the jury the real consequences of the issue. Her intent was to make the defense responsible for the outcome, which of course was not only the point, but the truth in fact.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you will note the table before you,” Millie began, “and the four containers containing liquid heated to various temperatures. Please note that each has a visible thermometer that reads what the temperature of each container is as well as the contents within.”
All eyes were riveted on the equipment as intended. In an otherwise boring trial that had been filled with interminable questioning and bickering over minute details, the jury was interested in seeing something different.
“Mister Flynn, you have had a chance to inspect the demonstration and verify the accuracy of the temperatures.” asked counsel for the plaintiff. “Is this true?”
Richard Flynn nodded, barely noticeable to those watching. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I’ll remind you, Mister Flynn,” Judge Sawyer projected his deep bass across the courtroom, “that all answers must be verbal. And please speak up so the entire court can hear.”
Not used to being chastised, Richard sulked in his chair, but verbalized his response in the affirmative.
Millie hesitated and moved slowly to a position adjacent her chair. There was no going back now. She reached below and took a grip on the handle of the container beneath. It was light, a covered bird cage with barely anything to weigh it down. But that “barely” was what would make her case. She was confident the jury would understand the correlation to the facts of the case, the injuries involved, the danger and responsibilities that were being foisted off as though they did not matter.
She placed the cage on top of her counsel table and removed the hood that had kept the contents obscured.
There was an audible intake of breath from every corner of the courtroom.
Four kittens lay sleeping, lightly sedated, in the bottom of the cage. They appeared to be identical, obviously litter mates, and about six weeks old.
Opening the cage door and reaching inside, Millie removed one. She nuzzled it carefully as she cupped it beneath her chin and against her neck. It was warm, soft, and Millie could feel the kitten’s heart pulsing lightly within her grasp.
There was a crucial point to be made.
“Mister Flynn, your prior testimony has been that coffee can be served safely at a temperature of one-hundred and eighty degrees to a seventy-nine year old woman in a moving car. Because of this, you have maintained that your company holds no liability once the coffee passes through the window, even not knowing what the circumstances are where you are supplying one-hundred-eighty degree coffee.”
Millie turned to the jury, engaging their eyes in studied nonchalance.
“You, and the jury, will note that all of the containers positioned on the table are lower in increments of twenty degrees than your stated safe temperature. That means the lowest temperature of liquid on the table is one hundred degrees, and the highest is one hundred and sixty degrees. Please indicate the highest temperature at which you wish to demonstrate that the kitten is safe if submerged for one second, and we will begin.”
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www.readmota.com
August 21, 2015
Screw Car Salespeople (because most assuredly, they are screwing you)
by C. Henry Martens
Image courtesy of savit keawtavee at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
When that grinning, jovial face extends his hand in your direction, you are entering into an adversarial relationship. Perhaps this is why so many people don’t like dickering for a good deal. But that attitude is a mistake on all levels. How much do you make hourly? Almost without exception, the time spent in negotiating a good deal, by the hour, will earn you one hundred times what you earn at a job. This is what you should know.
Let’s get something straight right out of the box. Car sales(wo)men are not your friend. Buying a car is likely to be in the top financial decisions you will ever make, and the people exchanging their shiny bright vroom-vroom for your hard earned money are in business to maximize profit. They don’t know you, and even if they do, they are in the game to make the most they can. That may be in the short term for many, but there are long term thinkers, too. Either short or long term, they want as much of what you have earned as they can get. Fact, exclamation point, period. If you can’t accept this, then you will be paying too much every time you buy a set of wheels.
Remember that you are purchasing a depreciating asset. After you pay the sales tax, license, and INTEREST over the term of the contract… you have often paid double what you would if you had cash. What are you left with? A vehicle that is worth roughly half of what you bought it for. If you don’t negotiate well, you take it at both ends.
These people selling cars have two great advantages over you: 1. With very few exceptions they are trained in strategies to get you to buy. Not only buy, but often buy what they want to sell you. 2. Unless you do know the person you are dealing with, and most often even so, they see you as a mark, a fish, a rube, a sucker, a dupe, a gull, a pushover, and a soft touch. Where do you think these terms come from? They are used behind backs and closed doors by salesmen. You are the fish to be landed, and they know you are already looking at their bait. All they need is someone to nibble.
Let’s look at cars…
First off, you can do some homework. Know what you are looking for. If you don’t want something, be specific. If you must have something, be even more specific. One thing you must define is how long you expect to own the vehicle and what you will be using it for. That is up to you. Don’t buy a small convertible if you do lawn care on the weekends. Don’t buy a monster truck if you have a hard time paying your rent. Do I need to say why? Remember that you will have additional costs. Check to see what licensing and insurance will cost, too. Define your circumstances and be realistic in your goals. I like Consumer Reports. They offer easy to access information, and while you can sign up for it online, you can also find the Car Buyers Guide in any well appointed library. I recommend that you don’t fall in love with a particular make or model. Manufacturers have their lemons as well as their stars. Choose wisely. It’s your money.
One of the strategies dealerships use to maximize profit is to only stock loaded cars. It is uncommon to find vehicles that are missing high priced options, but they often exist and can be ordered. One of the sales tools employed to maximize profit is to tell you that no one will want your car, the resale will be less, if the car doesn’t have everything. We, the public, have bought that idea when purchasing new vehicles. While some people will not buy a used car without stuff they will use little, if at all, there are plenty of people that are only looking for transportation. It is a fact that a vehicle with all the options will depreciate at a greater rate than one that is stripped. The basic car depreciates at the same rate, but the options depreciate at a higher rate. Options can easily double the price of a car that is entirely useful without them. Not only that, options break. You don’t want to pay for a leaking or electrically malfunctioning sun roof. The replacement parts most often discontinued early are options.
You’ve chosen three specific vehicles to search for and make a purchase - cars you like, have researched for reliability and comfort, and you are ready to begin looking. Wait a minute. One last thing… go on the internet and load your choices into the Kelly blue book website. Use two options. Buying and selling, and find out what average prices are in your area. Place a range of information in each one. Find the highs and the lows. Remember that the prices you get are averages. You are looking to buy for less.
There are things to look at when you find a vehicle you might want to purchase. Most of these apply to used cars, but new cars are sold all the time with repairs. Open all the doors, the hood, and the trunk. Look at the sheet metal for kinks or blemishes. Inspect the metal along the inside for wrinkles or out-of-place welds. I’ve seen cars with opposite ends damaged, cut in half and spliced together. Inspect the paint for wavy areas, and then look inside that area. I’ve seen eight inches of bondo in a quarter panel. Hit a pothole, and you will have a hole in your car. Look for new wires, spliced wires, new floor mats, new pedal pads, stained carpets, musty odors, air fresheners, mismatched tires, loose steering, lights that are dim or out, mismatched upholstery, residue in the ashtrays, and pull up the carpet and/or the trunk liner to see if there is sand or water stains underneath. Sound intimidating? What are the consequences if you don’t inspect the vehicle? You can take a list and go over it within minutes. A good ten minute inspection should result in some blemishes, even to a new car. Insist on a mechanic inspecting the car, too. The more time the seller has in selling the vehicle, the more they want to make a deal. This is part of your strategy to get the price down. Everything you can possibly find fault in, touch it and make a disapproving sound. Be sure the salesperson sees you do it. Every time you find fault, it lowers the price of the car in the salesperson’s eyes. Two can play these games.
Take the car off the lot. Drive it. I suggest three places. Stop and go traffic. Freeway speeds. And after both of these, go up a really long and steep hill, no faster than forty miles per hour. Watch the gauges. Apply the brakes HARD and see if the car pulls to the side. Accelerate down the steep hill and then take your foot off to see what comes out of the tailpipe. Have someone you trust follow you as you test drive, and have them watch for smoke from the tailpipe and how the vehicle sits on the level or leans in the corners. Find some mud or soft dirt and see if the front and back wheels follow each other. Get a Carfax report. Then take it to a mechanic if you have one you trust. Not the same one that the car lot uses. Remember, the mechanic you use will not offer a guarantee and will probably be the one that fixes anything that they miss. Just saying…
Have you waited until you must buy something immediately? If you have, whatever you do, don’t let the salespeople know that. On the other hand, they need to know that you are a serious buyer. Most people looking seriously buy within the first two weeks. Make sure your salesperson knows you will be buying soon. If not with them, with someone else. IF NOT WITH THEM, WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
Here is where it gets fun. Look at it that way. It IS fun. This is a game you can play and enjoy. Go in armed, and you can win big money.
Dress. Up or down, one or the other. You can dress like you have money, and the salespeople will act like you do. They will try to upsell you ferociously. Dress down like you are scraping bottom, and they may want to avoid you because they don’t believe you can afford what you are looking at. Either way you can speak like you are there to buy. Be sure they know it… and make it clear that you know what you can afford or will spend, but don’t tell them how much you have. That is none of their business. Use ranges. “I’m looking to buy (specific brands/models) under $15K.” If they say they don’t have anything, WALK. You aren’t there to be steered toward something else.
The first rule, the first HARD and FAST rule… is don’t fall in love with a car. Another way of saying it is, be ready to walk away at any point. AT ANY POINT in the car buying experience… BE READY to WALK! This strategy gives you the only real power in the relationship. Until you sign the dotted line or pull the money from your wallet, you are in control as long as you understand that you can walk away. DO not, ever, ever, EVER, feel obligated to buy a car. Be prepared to walk away. It is YOUR money. I even suggest you practice doing this. Go looking at a couple of cars that you know you don’t want. If you really need a work truck, go test drive a small convertible and act interested. Then choose a time to walk AFTER you have had them agree to a price. You will be surprised how many times the salesperson, even the sales manager, will chase after you to try to renegotiate the deal. Learn to say, “NO!”
One of the most common strategies that salespeople use is creating a false shortage. They will state boldly that “There aren’t many of these babies. You’re lucky to find one.” That statement should make you laugh out loud. Your best response would go something like, “Oh, I know (sarcasm dripping), I’ve been up and down this street to all of the car lots and only found twenty-four of them. Of course I haven’t checked the local (paper, sales website, etc).” Be sure he gets it. Knowing that you caught him in a lie will put him on notice that you are looking for him to tell stories. Be warned, the best salespeople will still try to put one over on you.
Another thing salespeople are trained to do is control the client. They do this in many ways. One of the first is to get you to follow them around. The more they lead you, the less likely you are to argue over price. I pick a comfortable spot, always outside, and ask them to show me what cars they have that fit my criteria. When they suggest I follow them, I say that my back is killing me, and if they can’t bring a car to me then I can go elsewhere. If a salesperson is reluctant, then a casual question about what the sales manager’s name is and wondering if he has someone more amenable will usually get them interested. If not, WALK. Any car lot unwilling to make an effort is not someone to deal with.
You should be clear about what you want. If the person showing you cars is not bringing up what you asked for, they are showing you more expensive or brands/models you did not express interest in, you can try asking for the manager’s name again. “I’m sure they must have someone that can show me what I require.” Salespeople never want to lose a customer to another salesperson. Oh, by the way, most car sales are done on commission whether you are told otherwise or not. I prefer commissioned salespeople. They know that the customer that buys is their true employer.
Control of the buyer is important. Once you find something you are interested in they will want you to come inside and sit in their office. They will let you stew. I like to avoid this by either stating that I like it fine where I am, outside in a cool shady spot… or I follow the salesperson into the showroom and wander around. If they insist on making out some kind of “offer,” fine, but when your salesperson disappears, be sure to exit and amble about. Let them look for you. Let them wonder what you are doing. Don’t hide, just be unpredictable. Look like you are uncommitted. Let them know there are other cars you have looked at and are considering.
Remember that web search you did to find out the prices on cars? Those prices were AVERAGES. That means that you can expect to pay LESS than the average. After all, are you average? NO! YOU are armed and dangerous.
Remember Scotchguard? Remember when every car in the dealership’s inventory had a little tag adjacent the factory sticker that quoted prices for dealer additions? They added all kinds of things from floor mats to undercoating. Those things were listed at incredible markups. A dose of Scotchguard was two hundred dollars (and never installed because the upholstery fabric already had it) or undercoating was two-fifty (and it came out of a three dollar can, applied by a minimum wage worker in twenty minutes). Those added dealer stickers are bogus and should be ignored. I’ve seen added prices over five grand on a vehicle for things that cost less than a hundred or were already part of the car when it arrived. Dealer prep? HA! Get real.
Other things you can expect in making a deal are common. They will try to create a false sense of urgency. Often it will be by stating that they have someone else interested in the same car. You don’t want to be in a bidding situation. WALK. In order to alleviate this strategy I will take the car for a test drive and not bring it back. “Oh, I’m letting my wife drive it until we either make a deal or you say you don’t want my money.” They get a stunned look on their face and sputter, but if the car is off the lot it is surprising how much they will want to negotiate. If they insist on the car being returned… return it and WALK.
Often you will have an offer accepted, and when the paperwork is in front of you, ready to be signed, the numbers don’t match your offer. They are always higher. Never buy a car that the numbers have changed on. They will say, “Oh, we made a mistake, and this is the actual price of the car.” Your response? “You made a mistake?” They will grin sheepishly (actually like a wolf) and nod. “Yes.” “Well, I guess you did.”… and WALK. You don’t want to do business or reward behavior with a company that pulls that. Oh, and the salesperson will say almost anything to get you to buy. If they make promises (and watch for them to) be sure you state up front that they will have to write it down on the contract. I like to carry a small notebook while I’m looking, and if they say something that they should be held to I write it down and make sure they see me do it. Often they will shut up after that.
Your ultimate power is in leaving after they have established you are a serious buyer. DO IT. Be sure they have your phone number. Better than fifty percent of the time they will call you to sweeten the deal. It’s not a bad idea to negotiate the final price over the phone. Then have them deliver the car and bring the paperwork with them. If it’s wrong, tell them to leave. Remember, you are NOT IN LOVE WITH THE CAR.
What are “sticker” prices? What are “invoice” prices? New or used, they are negotiable, or you… WALK. Also, they are universally bogus. With used cars they have nothing to do with what the car can be sold for. Anyone who buys a used car for asking price has paid at least twenty-five percent more than they should have. AT LEAST. New cars are often advertised “at invoice.” That is supposed to make you think they are selling “at cost.” BULL. Dealerships don’t stay in business by making no profit. “Invoice” price is BOGUS. It is a ploy to get an automatic profit. Cars that are sold “at invoice” have something called a “hold back,” an automatic rebate to the sales establishment. In other words, the invoice price is more than what they pay for the car because after they sell it they get money back from the manufacturer. For fun ask your salesperson what the hold back on a car is. Most know about the practice, and if they do they will get a startled, deer in the headlights look, and start to sputter. New car MSRP, manufacturer’s suggested retail price, is at least fifteen percent over what they can sell for. If there are lots of bells and whistles, there is much more room to negotiate. Most options can be had for fifty percent of what they are asking. If you are buying a $45K truck, MSRP, you should be paying around $20K for the actual stripped truck and half of the option ask, or another $12.5K for a total of $32.5K. OR LESS… These prices may vary… lol.
Whenever you are trading something in you should figure out what you are paying for the vehicle before you add the trade. You will be surprised how little you are getting for the car you are trading in. I recommend selling privately. You can realize thousands more to put toward your new purchase.
Dealerships “floor” cars almost exclusively. Very few actually own what they are selling. They are required to turn their inventory, and that is why there are good times to buy. There are also certain vehicles that become good buys. If you know they have a long line of similar cars, and it’s the end of the month, you can look for the ones that have been on the lot over ninety days. If you have an exceptional salesperson, they will know which cars they are… and there may even be a bonus to them for selling the older stock. You can ask. Cha-ching! Automatic negotiating tool. If it’s important that you own a certain color, and you would like to spend several hundred more to get it, ignore this strategy.
There are anti-trust laws in the United States that are being ignored. More than one deals in monopoly. Some corporations own several dealerships in the same area. That is against the law from what I understand but is presently being tolerated. I avoid those dealerships if possible. But if you are going to be expecting service from one, you should know that some discriminate between their car buying customers and those who buy elsewhere. Also against the law and the rules of the manufacturers from what I understand, but unenforced by both. They DO want you to buy from them. So you can let them know you are looking elsewhere and what kind of deal you are making. Even at the last moment, after you complete a negotiation, but before you sign anything, say,“I’m sorry, I have to use the rest room,” and use your cell phone. You can call someone you have established a relationship with and ask them if they can match the deal. If you give them a heads up ahead of time they should understand that they will need to be quick with an answer.
A Tale of Two Women. I have shared the information in this article with several people. Two women immediately come to mind. The first I consider a good friend. She listened closely, and when she got to the dealership, she said to the salesman, “I don’t know you or anything about cars, so I’ll have to trust everything you say.” Whhaaaat?!?!? She bought a year old car with 30K hard miles on it for several thousand more than the full sticker price on a brand new one off the same lot. She fell in love with the car, never considered walking, and never realized what happened. I certainly never had the heart to tell her. The next woman is a young mother, making the struggle that young mothers make. She needed something to transport her kids and their friends and found a lightly damaged van that would do the job. After inspecting it and touching every blemish, shaking her head, and making disrespectful noises, she made a very low offer. Much lower than she expected to pay. Negotiating hard, sticking to her guns, she got the price down to half the asking price of $9K. Then she got up and walked out. Two days went by and she got a phone call from the car salesman. “What do I have to do to sell you the van?” The young lady stated that she had made her offer and would stick to it. She is still driving the van three years later that she bought for $3K… $6K less than the asking price.
I’ve bought and sold many vehicles. Using these techniques I usually pay nothing for them. How? I buy low enough that I can use the vehicle for a couple of years and sell them for the average blue book prices.
Remember, this is you against them. If you fold and buy at sticker price you are placing money in someone’s hand that is trying to screw you. The money that you could be using for your kid’s college fund, or your parent’s anniversary cruise, or your next boob job. We are chumps in this country, with so much pride that we would rather pay extra dollars unto insolvency than spend a few hours keeping a month’s wages in our pocket. The more you practice, the better you will be. Be tough and smart. Good luck.
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Image courtesy of savit keawtavee at FreeDigitalPhotos.netWhen that grinning, jovial face extends his hand in your direction, you are entering into an adversarial relationship. Perhaps this is why so many people don’t like dickering for a good deal. But that attitude is a mistake on all levels. How much do you make hourly? Almost without exception, the time spent in negotiating a good deal, by the hour, will earn you one hundred times what you earn at a job. This is what you should know.
Let’s get something straight right out of the box. Car sales(wo)men are not your friend. Buying a car is likely to be in the top financial decisions you will ever make, and the people exchanging their shiny bright vroom-vroom for your hard earned money are in business to maximize profit. They don’t know you, and even if they do, they are in the game to make the most they can. That may be in the short term for many, but there are long term thinkers, too. Either short or long term, they want as much of what you have earned as they can get. Fact, exclamation point, period. If you can’t accept this, then you will be paying too much every time you buy a set of wheels.
Remember that you are purchasing a depreciating asset. After you pay the sales tax, license, and INTEREST over the term of the contract… you have often paid double what you would if you had cash. What are you left with? A vehicle that is worth roughly half of what you bought it for. If you don’t negotiate well, you take it at both ends.
These people selling cars have two great advantages over you: 1. With very few exceptions they are trained in strategies to get you to buy. Not only buy, but often buy what they want to sell you. 2. Unless you do know the person you are dealing with, and most often even so, they see you as a mark, a fish, a rube, a sucker, a dupe, a gull, a pushover, and a soft touch. Where do you think these terms come from? They are used behind backs and closed doors by salesmen. You are the fish to be landed, and they know you are already looking at their bait. All they need is someone to nibble.
Let’s look at cars…
First off, you can do some homework. Know what you are looking for. If you don’t want something, be specific. If you must have something, be even more specific. One thing you must define is how long you expect to own the vehicle and what you will be using it for. That is up to you. Don’t buy a small convertible if you do lawn care on the weekends. Don’t buy a monster truck if you have a hard time paying your rent. Do I need to say why? Remember that you will have additional costs. Check to see what licensing and insurance will cost, too. Define your circumstances and be realistic in your goals. I like Consumer Reports. They offer easy to access information, and while you can sign up for it online, you can also find the Car Buyers Guide in any well appointed library. I recommend that you don’t fall in love with a particular make or model. Manufacturers have their lemons as well as their stars. Choose wisely. It’s your money.
One of the strategies dealerships use to maximize profit is to only stock loaded cars. It is uncommon to find vehicles that are missing high priced options, but they often exist and can be ordered. One of the sales tools employed to maximize profit is to tell you that no one will want your car, the resale will be less, if the car doesn’t have everything. We, the public, have bought that idea when purchasing new vehicles. While some people will not buy a used car without stuff they will use little, if at all, there are plenty of people that are only looking for transportation. It is a fact that a vehicle with all the options will depreciate at a greater rate than one that is stripped. The basic car depreciates at the same rate, but the options depreciate at a higher rate. Options can easily double the price of a car that is entirely useful without them. Not only that, options break. You don’t want to pay for a leaking or electrically malfunctioning sun roof. The replacement parts most often discontinued early are options.
You’ve chosen three specific vehicles to search for and make a purchase - cars you like, have researched for reliability and comfort, and you are ready to begin looking. Wait a minute. One last thing… go on the internet and load your choices into the Kelly blue book website. Use two options. Buying and selling, and find out what average prices are in your area. Place a range of information in each one. Find the highs and the lows. Remember that the prices you get are averages. You are looking to buy for less.
There are things to look at when you find a vehicle you might want to purchase. Most of these apply to used cars, but new cars are sold all the time with repairs. Open all the doors, the hood, and the trunk. Look at the sheet metal for kinks or blemishes. Inspect the metal along the inside for wrinkles or out-of-place welds. I’ve seen cars with opposite ends damaged, cut in half and spliced together. Inspect the paint for wavy areas, and then look inside that area. I’ve seen eight inches of bondo in a quarter panel. Hit a pothole, and you will have a hole in your car. Look for new wires, spliced wires, new floor mats, new pedal pads, stained carpets, musty odors, air fresheners, mismatched tires, loose steering, lights that are dim or out, mismatched upholstery, residue in the ashtrays, and pull up the carpet and/or the trunk liner to see if there is sand or water stains underneath. Sound intimidating? What are the consequences if you don’t inspect the vehicle? You can take a list and go over it within minutes. A good ten minute inspection should result in some blemishes, even to a new car. Insist on a mechanic inspecting the car, too. The more time the seller has in selling the vehicle, the more they want to make a deal. This is part of your strategy to get the price down. Everything you can possibly find fault in, touch it and make a disapproving sound. Be sure the salesperson sees you do it. Every time you find fault, it lowers the price of the car in the salesperson’s eyes. Two can play these games.
Take the car off the lot. Drive it. I suggest three places. Stop and go traffic. Freeway speeds. And after both of these, go up a really long and steep hill, no faster than forty miles per hour. Watch the gauges. Apply the brakes HARD and see if the car pulls to the side. Accelerate down the steep hill and then take your foot off to see what comes out of the tailpipe. Have someone you trust follow you as you test drive, and have them watch for smoke from the tailpipe and how the vehicle sits on the level or leans in the corners. Find some mud or soft dirt and see if the front and back wheels follow each other. Get a Carfax report. Then take it to a mechanic if you have one you trust. Not the same one that the car lot uses. Remember, the mechanic you use will not offer a guarantee and will probably be the one that fixes anything that they miss. Just saying…
Have you waited until you must buy something immediately? If you have, whatever you do, don’t let the salespeople know that. On the other hand, they need to know that you are a serious buyer. Most people looking seriously buy within the first two weeks. Make sure your salesperson knows you will be buying soon. If not with them, with someone else. IF NOT WITH THEM, WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
Here is where it gets fun. Look at it that way. It IS fun. This is a game you can play and enjoy. Go in armed, and you can win big money.
Dress. Up or down, one or the other. You can dress like you have money, and the salespeople will act like you do. They will try to upsell you ferociously. Dress down like you are scraping bottom, and they may want to avoid you because they don’t believe you can afford what you are looking at. Either way you can speak like you are there to buy. Be sure they know it… and make it clear that you know what you can afford or will spend, but don’t tell them how much you have. That is none of their business. Use ranges. “I’m looking to buy (specific brands/models) under $15K.” If they say they don’t have anything, WALK. You aren’t there to be steered toward something else.
The first rule, the first HARD and FAST rule… is don’t fall in love with a car. Another way of saying it is, be ready to walk away at any point. AT ANY POINT in the car buying experience… BE READY to WALK! This strategy gives you the only real power in the relationship. Until you sign the dotted line or pull the money from your wallet, you are in control as long as you understand that you can walk away. DO not, ever, ever, EVER, feel obligated to buy a car. Be prepared to walk away. It is YOUR money. I even suggest you practice doing this. Go looking at a couple of cars that you know you don’t want. If you really need a work truck, go test drive a small convertible and act interested. Then choose a time to walk AFTER you have had them agree to a price. You will be surprised how many times the salesperson, even the sales manager, will chase after you to try to renegotiate the deal. Learn to say, “NO!”
One of the most common strategies that salespeople use is creating a false shortage. They will state boldly that “There aren’t many of these babies. You’re lucky to find one.” That statement should make you laugh out loud. Your best response would go something like, “Oh, I know (sarcasm dripping), I’ve been up and down this street to all of the car lots and only found twenty-four of them. Of course I haven’t checked the local (paper, sales website, etc).” Be sure he gets it. Knowing that you caught him in a lie will put him on notice that you are looking for him to tell stories. Be warned, the best salespeople will still try to put one over on you.
Another thing salespeople are trained to do is control the client. They do this in many ways. One of the first is to get you to follow them around. The more they lead you, the less likely you are to argue over price. I pick a comfortable spot, always outside, and ask them to show me what cars they have that fit my criteria. When they suggest I follow them, I say that my back is killing me, and if they can’t bring a car to me then I can go elsewhere. If a salesperson is reluctant, then a casual question about what the sales manager’s name is and wondering if he has someone more amenable will usually get them interested. If not, WALK. Any car lot unwilling to make an effort is not someone to deal with.
You should be clear about what you want. If the person showing you cars is not bringing up what you asked for, they are showing you more expensive or brands/models you did not express interest in, you can try asking for the manager’s name again. “I’m sure they must have someone that can show me what I require.” Salespeople never want to lose a customer to another salesperson. Oh, by the way, most car sales are done on commission whether you are told otherwise or not. I prefer commissioned salespeople. They know that the customer that buys is their true employer.
Control of the buyer is important. Once you find something you are interested in they will want you to come inside and sit in their office. They will let you stew. I like to avoid this by either stating that I like it fine where I am, outside in a cool shady spot… or I follow the salesperson into the showroom and wander around. If they insist on making out some kind of “offer,” fine, but when your salesperson disappears, be sure to exit and amble about. Let them look for you. Let them wonder what you are doing. Don’t hide, just be unpredictable. Look like you are uncommitted. Let them know there are other cars you have looked at and are considering.
Remember that web search you did to find out the prices on cars? Those prices were AVERAGES. That means that you can expect to pay LESS than the average. After all, are you average? NO! YOU are armed and dangerous.
Remember Scotchguard? Remember when every car in the dealership’s inventory had a little tag adjacent the factory sticker that quoted prices for dealer additions? They added all kinds of things from floor mats to undercoating. Those things were listed at incredible markups. A dose of Scotchguard was two hundred dollars (and never installed because the upholstery fabric already had it) or undercoating was two-fifty (and it came out of a three dollar can, applied by a minimum wage worker in twenty minutes). Those added dealer stickers are bogus and should be ignored. I’ve seen added prices over five grand on a vehicle for things that cost less than a hundred or were already part of the car when it arrived. Dealer prep? HA! Get real.
Other things you can expect in making a deal are common. They will try to create a false sense of urgency. Often it will be by stating that they have someone else interested in the same car. You don’t want to be in a bidding situation. WALK. In order to alleviate this strategy I will take the car for a test drive and not bring it back. “Oh, I’m letting my wife drive it until we either make a deal or you say you don’t want my money.” They get a stunned look on their face and sputter, but if the car is off the lot it is surprising how much they will want to negotiate. If they insist on the car being returned… return it and WALK.
Often you will have an offer accepted, and when the paperwork is in front of you, ready to be signed, the numbers don’t match your offer. They are always higher. Never buy a car that the numbers have changed on. They will say, “Oh, we made a mistake, and this is the actual price of the car.” Your response? “You made a mistake?” They will grin sheepishly (actually like a wolf) and nod. “Yes.” “Well, I guess you did.”… and WALK. You don’t want to do business or reward behavior with a company that pulls that. Oh, and the salesperson will say almost anything to get you to buy. If they make promises (and watch for them to) be sure you state up front that they will have to write it down on the contract. I like to carry a small notebook while I’m looking, and if they say something that they should be held to I write it down and make sure they see me do it. Often they will shut up after that.
Your ultimate power is in leaving after they have established you are a serious buyer. DO IT. Be sure they have your phone number. Better than fifty percent of the time they will call you to sweeten the deal. It’s not a bad idea to negotiate the final price over the phone. Then have them deliver the car and bring the paperwork with them. If it’s wrong, tell them to leave. Remember, you are NOT IN LOVE WITH THE CAR.
What are “sticker” prices? What are “invoice” prices? New or used, they are negotiable, or you… WALK. Also, they are universally bogus. With used cars they have nothing to do with what the car can be sold for. Anyone who buys a used car for asking price has paid at least twenty-five percent more than they should have. AT LEAST. New cars are often advertised “at invoice.” That is supposed to make you think they are selling “at cost.” BULL. Dealerships don’t stay in business by making no profit. “Invoice” price is BOGUS. It is a ploy to get an automatic profit. Cars that are sold “at invoice” have something called a “hold back,” an automatic rebate to the sales establishment. In other words, the invoice price is more than what they pay for the car because after they sell it they get money back from the manufacturer. For fun ask your salesperson what the hold back on a car is. Most know about the practice, and if they do they will get a startled, deer in the headlights look, and start to sputter. New car MSRP, manufacturer’s suggested retail price, is at least fifteen percent over what they can sell for. If there are lots of bells and whistles, there is much more room to negotiate. Most options can be had for fifty percent of what they are asking. If you are buying a $45K truck, MSRP, you should be paying around $20K for the actual stripped truck and half of the option ask, or another $12.5K for a total of $32.5K. OR LESS… These prices may vary… lol.
Whenever you are trading something in you should figure out what you are paying for the vehicle before you add the trade. You will be surprised how little you are getting for the car you are trading in. I recommend selling privately. You can realize thousands more to put toward your new purchase.
Dealerships “floor” cars almost exclusively. Very few actually own what they are selling. They are required to turn their inventory, and that is why there are good times to buy. There are also certain vehicles that become good buys. If you know they have a long line of similar cars, and it’s the end of the month, you can look for the ones that have been on the lot over ninety days. If you have an exceptional salesperson, they will know which cars they are… and there may even be a bonus to them for selling the older stock. You can ask. Cha-ching! Automatic negotiating tool. If it’s important that you own a certain color, and you would like to spend several hundred more to get it, ignore this strategy.
There are anti-trust laws in the United States that are being ignored. More than one deals in monopoly. Some corporations own several dealerships in the same area. That is against the law from what I understand but is presently being tolerated. I avoid those dealerships if possible. But if you are going to be expecting service from one, you should know that some discriminate between their car buying customers and those who buy elsewhere. Also against the law and the rules of the manufacturers from what I understand, but unenforced by both. They DO want you to buy from them. So you can let them know you are looking elsewhere and what kind of deal you are making. Even at the last moment, after you complete a negotiation, but before you sign anything, say,“I’m sorry, I have to use the rest room,” and use your cell phone. You can call someone you have established a relationship with and ask them if they can match the deal. If you give them a heads up ahead of time they should understand that they will need to be quick with an answer.
A Tale of Two Women. I have shared the information in this article with several people. Two women immediately come to mind. The first I consider a good friend. She listened closely, and when she got to the dealership, she said to the salesman, “I don’t know you or anything about cars, so I’ll have to trust everything you say.” Whhaaaat?!?!? She bought a year old car with 30K hard miles on it for several thousand more than the full sticker price on a brand new one off the same lot. She fell in love with the car, never considered walking, and never realized what happened. I certainly never had the heart to tell her. The next woman is a young mother, making the struggle that young mothers make. She needed something to transport her kids and their friends and found a lightly damaged van that would do the job. After inspecting it and touching every blemish, shaking her head, and making disrespectful noises, she made a very low offer. Much lower than she expected to pay. Negotiating hard, sticking to her guns, she got the price down to half the asking price of $9K. Then she got up and walked out. Two days went by and she got a phone call from the car salesman. “What do I have to do to sell you the van?” The young lady stated that she had made her offer and would stick to it. She is still driving the van three years later that she bought for $3K… $6K less than the asking price.
I’ve bought and sold many vehicles. Using these techniques I usually pay nothing for them. How? I buy low enough that I can use the vehicle for a couple of years and sell them for the average blue book prices.
Remember, this is you against them. If you fold and buy at sticker price you are placing money in someone’s hand that is trying to screw you. The money that you could be using for your kid’s college fund, or your parent’s anniversary cruise, or your next boob job. We are chumps in this country, with so much pride that we would rather pay extra dollars unto insolvency than spend a few hours keeping a month’s wages in our pocket. The more you practice, the better you will be. Be tough and smart. Good luck.
Share your car-buying nightmares in the comments below…
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August 14, 2015
Staying Healthy in the Apocalypse
by Kari Carlisle
The apocalypse is over, and now it’s survival time. Can you still make a run to the family doctor for an illness or injury? Maybe or maybe not. Are you willing to take that chance? Here are some natural remedies that you can stock up on now and store indefinitely.
Raw Honey
Raw honey is my favorite remedy for cuts and scrapes. A few years ago one of my greyhounds, Samantha, slipped on an icy patch in our pasture and received a 6-inch, smiley-face shaped laceration on her thigh. Since greyhounds have “cellophane skin” as my vet puts it, the stitches kept coming out. Even a superglue patch wouldn’t hold.
I questioned my pals on various email lists, and someone suggested raw honey. I was skeptical at first, as I am about most things until I research and experience them myself. A simple Internet search taught me that raw honey is a pretty strong antibacterial and antiseptic. I kept digging and learned that raw honey was used to dress wounds during WWII. I also found a blog about someone whose diabetic ulcer was cured using raw honey. It was worth a try, I decided.
So twice each day I applied a thick layer of raw honey to Sam’s wound and kept her from licking it off as long as I could. Amazingly the wound that wouldn’t heal for weeks closed within a day and was completely healed within a week. Since then I have had many opportunities to test the power of raw honey – must be raw, not grocery store honey – and I am amazed how quickly wounds heal.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention that the old folk remedy is true -- a spoonful of raw honey, straight up or in hot tea, really does sooth a sore throat.
Peppermint Spirits
For mild stomachaches I love peppermint spirits. If I eat something a little too close to bedtime, I may wake up a couple of hours later with a queasy tummy. Apparently I can’t sleep and digest at the same time. At that point I must get up and have some peppermint spirits. Two good squirts of the eyedropper in a glass of water is about the right amount. Stirring frequently and sipping it down slowly (while watching some inane comedy on TV to take my mind off my tummy) does the trick for me. After a few minutes I’m able to go back to bed and sleep through the rest of the night.
Oil of Oregano
Oil of oregano is so effective against stomachaches, I confess I am guilty of over-using this powerful antibacterial. When peppermint spirits will work just fine, oil of oregano will work ten times as fast. The downside is that it will kill beneficial bacterial as well, so I recommend saving its use for more serious stomachaches. A good rule of thumb is to use oil of oregano the moment you realize you’re so nauseous you may vomit. Oil of oregano kills nasty bacteria like salmonella and e. coli on contact.
As an antibacterial, oil of oregano can be used as a substitute for prescription antibiotics. Like antibiotics, you need to limit your use and take plenty of probiotics (cultured and fermented foods) to replenish your healthy gut bacteria.
Purchase oil of oregano at a health food store, and be sure to get Origanum Vulgare. Oil of oregano has a gazillion uses, so whatever ails you, do your own research to see if oil of oregano might be effective. Chances are it will be.
Oil of oregano has some topical uses such as acne, nail fungus, and gum sores. I brush my teeth with it. My favorite method of internal delivery is to put 4-5 drops in ¼ to ½ cup of apple juice, stir briskly and drink it down without letting it touch my lips. Tastes like drinking sweet pizza. I have never had a stomachache that wasn’t cured by oil of oregano.
Bentonite Clay
I first used bentonite clay a few years ago for a spider bite and now use it for other purposes. I don’t know what kind of spider bit me on my right cheek, just below the corner of my eye, but it was swollen and gave me constant, searing pain. I don’t remember if I tried anything on the bite, but it being so close to my eye, I was concerned about the venom migrating there. I just didn’t know what to do.
After days of suffering, I must have had an epiphany or read something somewhere about clay being used as a drawing poultice. I headed to the health food store to buy some, and for three nights after work I applied a poultice and laid on my left side for an hour with a wet washcloth over it. I was surprised that I could actually feel it working. The bite area tingled, and I felt shooting pains as the clay drew out the venom. The swelling went down, and the pain subsided. My only regret is that I didn’t think of clay sooner. To this day my cheek is numb where the spider bit me.
Since that spider bite we have experimented with using bentonite clay for various internal and external issues with great success. Clay works for stomachaches, constipation, diarrhea, gas and bloating (isn’t that a commercial?). Since my dog won’t drink peppermint spirits or oil of oregano, I put clay in her water bowl when she has a stomachache.
Clay takes away the sting of sunburn and turns it from red to brown within hours – something I experienced myself earlier this year. There are so many uses of bentonite clay, the folks at Redmond Minerals have created several videos.
Rescue® Remedy
Bach’s flower essence formula, Rescue® Remedy, became very important to me after a serious car accident. I was plagued with terrible emotions after that accident, and a few drops of Rescue® Remedy under the tongue calmed me down. I haven’t used it in years myself, but it helped both my greyhounds when my boy, Jack was ill with bone cancer. And no one can tell me this only works because of the placebo effect. I know plenty of dog owners who successfully use Rescue® Remedy for separation anxiety, and the dog doesn’t know what it’s for!
In a survival situation I can see this remedy being used more than any other. The trauma of going through a disastrous event can wreak havoc on one’s emotional well-being. This remedy can help keep everyone calm and thinking more clearly – essential for continued survival.
Arnica Montana
I was introduced to this homeopathic remedy back in college. I got overzealous with the space boots, hanging upside down for too long, and I strained a muscle in my lower back. I could barely walk from the excruciating pain. My carpool friend gave me a bottle of arnica pills, and I felt relief within hours and pain-free within three days.
Arnica is available in pills that are dissolved under the tongue, as well as a first aid gel or cream. We use arnica liberally for aches and pains, bruises, and all injuries to reduce pain and speed up healing.
*****
Many of these remedies can be used for multiple ailments. It takes time and experience to figure out which ones work best for what, and it might be different for each individual. These remedies are my favorites (so far – activated charcoal is one I’ve recently added to my home medicine chest but am still learning about), and there are many more out there that are good, effective remedies. Herbs, homeopathy, ayurveda, traditional Chinese medicine, and folk medicine are all worth exploring.
Before you reach for the pink stuff or the triple antibiotic, try one of my suggestions. Do your own research. If you don’t like the idea of using your kids or pets as guinea pigs, try them on yourself first. The most important thing I have learned is to stay calm and think critically about the situation, and then make a decision about which remedy to try. Of course at one o’clock in the morning, it’s hard to think critically about choosing peppermint spirits over oil of oregano for a minor tummy ache. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
The apocalypse is over, and now it’s survival time. Can you still make a run to the family doctor for an illness or injury? Maybe or maybe not. Are you willing to take that chance? Here are some natural remedies that you can stock up on now and store indefinitely.
Raw Honey
Raw honey is my favorite remedy for cuts and scrapes. A few years ago one of my greyhounds, Samantha, slipped on an icy patch in our pasture and received a 6-inch, smiley-face shaped laceration on her thigh. Since greyhounds have “cellophane skin” as my vet puts it, the stitches kept coming out. Even a superglue patch wouldn’t hold.
I questioned my pals on various email lists, and someone suggested raw honey. I was skeptical at first, as I am about most things until I research and experience them myself. A simple Internet search taught me that raw honey is a pretty strong antibacterial and antiseptic. I kept digging and learned that raw honey was used to dress wounds during WWII. I also found a blog about someone whose diabetic ulcer was cured using raw honey. It was worth a try, I decided.
So twice each day I applied a thick layer of raw honey to Sam’s wound and kept her from licking it off as long as I could. Amazingly the wound that wouldn’t heal for weeks closed within a day and was completely healed within a week. Since then I have had many opportunities to test the power of raw honey – must be raw, not grocery store honey – and I am amazed how quickly wounds heal.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention that the old folk remedy is true -- a spoonful of raw honey, straight up or in hot tea, really does sooth a sore throat.
Peppermint Spirits
For mild stomachaches I love peppermint spirits. If I eat something a little too close to bedtime, I may wake up a couple of hours later with a queasy tummy. Apparently I can’t sleep and digest at the same time. At that point I must get up and have some peppermint spirits. Two good squirts of the eyedropper in a glass of water is about the right amount. Stirring frequently and sipping it down slowly (while watching some inane comedy on TV to take my mind off my tummy) does the trick for me. After a few minutes I’m able to go back to bed and sleep through the rest of the night.
Oil of Oregano
Oil of oregano is so effective against stomachaches, I confess I am guilty of over-using this powerful antibacterial. When peppermint spirits will work just fine, oil of oregano will work ten times as fast. The downside is that it will kill beneficial bacterial as well, so I recommend saving its use for more serious stomachaches. A good rule of thumb is to use oil of oregano the moment you realize you’re so nauseous you may vomit. Oil of oregano kills nasty bacteria like salmonella and e. coli on contact.
As an antibacterial, oil of oregano can be used as a substitute for prescription antibiotics. Like antibiotics, you need to limit your use and take plenty of probiotics (cultured and fermented foods) to replenish your healthy gut bacteria.
Purchase oil of oregano at a health food store, and be sure to get Origanum Vulgare. Oil of oregano has a gazillion uses, so whatever ails you, do your own research to see if oil of oregano might be effective. Chances are it will be.
Oil of oregano has some topical uses such as acne, nail fungus, and gum sores. I brush my teeth with it. My favorite method of internal delivery is to put 4-5 drops in ¼ to ½ cup of apple juice, stir briskly and drink it down without letting it touch my lips. Tastes like drinking sweet pizza. I have never had a stomachache that wasn’t cured by oil of oregano.
Bentonite Clay
I first used bentonite clay a few years ago for a spider bite and now use it for other purposes. I don’t know what kind of spider bit me on my right cheek, just below the corner of my eye, but it was swollen and gave me constant, searing pain. I don’t remember if I tried anything on the bite, but it being so close to my eye, I was concerned about the venom migrating there. I just didn’t know what to do.
After days of suffering, I must have had an epiphany or read something somewhere about clay being used as a drawing poultice. I headed to the health food store to buy some, and for three nights after work I applied a poultice and laid on my left side for an hour with a wet washcloth over it. I was surprised that I could actually feel it working. The bite area tingled, and I felt shooting pains as the clay drew out the venom. The swelling went down, and the pain subsided. My only regret is that I didn’t think of clay sooner. To this day my cheek is numb where the spider bit me.
Since that spider bite we have experimented with using bentonite clay for various internal and external issues with great success. Clay works for stomachaches, constipation, diarrhea, gas and bloating (isn’t that a commercial?). Since my dog won’t drink peppermint spirits or oil of oregano, I put clay in her water bowl when she has a stomachache.
Clay takes away the sting of sunburn and turns it from red to brown within hours – something I experienced myself earlier this year. There are so many uses of bentonite clay, the folks at Redmond Minerals have created several videos.
Rescue® Remedy
Bach’s flower essence formula, Rescue® Remedy, became very important to me after a serious car accident. I was plagued with terrible emotions after that accident, and a few drops of Rescue® Remedy under the tongue calmed me down. I haven’t used it in years myself, but it helped both my greyhounds when my boy, Jack was ill with bone cancer. And no one can tell me this only works because of the placebo effect. I know plenty of dog owners who successfully use Rescue® Remedy for separation anxiety, and the dog doesn’t know what it’s for!
In a survival situation I can see this remedy being used more than any other. The trauma of going through a disastrous event can wreak havoc on one’s emotional well-being. This remedy can help keep everyone calm and thinking more clearly – essential for continued survival.
Arnica Montana
I was introduced to this homeopathic remedy back in college. I got overzealous with the space boots, hanging upside down for too long, and I strained a muscle in my lower back. I could barely walk from the excruciating pain. My carpool friend gave me a bottle of arnica pills, and I felt relief within hours and pain-free within three days.
Arnica is available in pills that are dissolved under the tongue, as well as a first aid gel or cream. We use arnica liberally for aches and pains, bruises, and all injuries to reduce pain and speed up healing.
*****
Many of these remedies can be used for multiple ailments. It takes time and experience to figure out which ones work best for what, and it might be different for each individual. These remedies are my favorites (so far – activated charcoal is one I’ve recently added to my home medicine chest but am still learning about), and there are many more out there that are good, effective remedies. Herbs, homeopathy, ayurveda, traditional Chinese medicine, and folk medicine are all worth exploring.
Before you reach for the pink stuff or the triple antibiotic, try one of my suggestions. Do your own research. If you don’t like the idea of using your kids or pets as guinea pigs, try them on yourself first. The most important thing I have learned is to stay calm and think critically about the situation, and then make a decision about which remedy to try. Of course at one o’clock in the morning, it’s hard to think critically about choosing peppermint spirits over oil of oregano for a minor tummy ache. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
