Episode 9 - Madness Takes it's Toll

Notes From the North IF Episode 9

One of our neighbors invited us to pick plums from her tree. These are Italian plums, a greenish purple with a lighter blue dust on them - shaped like a pecan and fitting comfortably in a closed hand. My uncle used to have a tree with these plums and we greedily waited for them to be ripe every year. Their flesh is light yellowy-greenish shading to the color of crystallized honey. We ate unknown numbers of them and then I chopped several of them and added fresh-squeezed lime juice, a tiny bit of chili powder and a half teaspoon of brown sugar and cooked it down on a low flame until it turned a dark red. We ate it on pancakes and will use the rest on peanut butter and "jelly" sandwiches - delicious!

Our neighbors on the other side lent us their lawnmower and weed whacker yesterday and the 3 of us took turns attacking our junglawn. It took all 3 of us - and several hours, and I am afraid that their lawnmower will never be the same. It huffed, and chuffed, groaned, belched blue smoke, stalled and sat sullenly, refusing to start again. We clustered around it, speaking in low tones as though we were discussing an accident victim bleeding at our feet. I don't think I have ever felt such compassion for an inanimate object - it's suffering was so tangible. We took a solemn vow never to use it again, and I almost looked around for a priest to give it extreme unction, but once I got underneath it and removed the 15 or so pounds of grass clippings glued to it's underside it started with a full-throated roar and ran at a high rev - surely a sign of it's continuing (albeit fragile) health. We tenderly refilled it's gas tank and returned it, trying not to blush with shame. I gave the neighbors a large bag of plums (!), which they gratefully accepted. Still, my last thoughts, tossing and turning before I fell asleep were of the lawnmower and how I had never so abused the evilest of creatures that crossed my path much less an innocent, hard-workin, helpful lawnmower. I will bear this guilt to my dying day.
 
Ironically, because of the repairs to our water main - the side of our lawn bordering our most scrupulous and finicky neighbor remains unmowed. We did not have the heart to subject the poor lawnmower to mowing grass laced with indestructible clods of clay and the kind of stones that made farming in New England so hellish - resulting in the countryside being webbed with stone walls everywhere you look. Those walls remain today, even though farming moved to the midwest as soon as the lands there were opened up to settlement. The neighbor on the side with the unmown lawn is the one who killed a foot-wide strip along our fence with roundup - which even killed two of our trees. The first words she spoke to us were about how much she hated the weeds which grew beyond easy casting distance of the round-up. (Dustin immediately pulled, hacked and otherwise removed the weeds over the next 3 days). But her plums are delicious. Sad about the lawn on that side though. Hee-hee, ahem.

Since I left my job to move here, there were some things I needed to attend to. One of them is a monthly, automatic payment to the Southern Poverty Law Center, for their work on education and monitoring extremist groups. (See SPLC.org for more information). Since I am not earning money right now, I called my credit union to tell them to discontinue the payments.

The polite representative there told me that I had to call SPLC and ask them to discontinue it from their side. I was confused, and said so. He repeated that I needed to call them to stop the payments.

"Let me test my understanding," I said. "I voluntarily set-up these donations. It is coming from my account and it is my money. I am not under any obligation to make these donations. But I can't stop paying without their say-so?"

"If it was a credit card you would have other options - but since it's a debit card we have to do it this way."

"So, if they decided to keep on taking the money, there's nothing I could do"?!?

"We can only stop it by blocking the card, and then you would need to get another card."

"Forgive me, but that is the most backward way of doing things I can imagine. This is MY money, I thought it was My account, not theirs, but you can't stop paying someone my money on just my say-so?"

"I'm sorry sir, that's the policy."

I almost asked why they would let me start paying someone money since they don't trust me to stop, but it's not his policy and that would just be childish.

Let me say that I reached the SPLC today and they GRACIOUSLY consented to stop taking my money. Whew! Thank goodness for that! God forbid that someone hostile to me found a way into my account and helped themselves to my funds and then refused to stop when I went begging to them. Did anyone else know that things worked this way?

This leads me to state what I call Ralph's Law of Organizations - Any organization over 40 people, (and that is the absolute maximum number), becomes chaotic and impossible to manage by rational means. A and B work at cross-purposes, common sense becomes a rarity, and any manner of foolishness becomes the order of the day. Remember my words as you move and plan and attempt to cope with the insanity that dogs our every step, attending even the most routine and simple of transactions. It may not be a comfort to you unless understanding the madness engulfing you offers some comfort simply by making it less incomprehensible. No one really MEANS to make life hellishly stupid, it just works out that way with the operation of so many sovereign egos in play.

Well that's it for now - stay tuned for the next episode of NFTNIF!