Sep 192013
 

** EDITORS NOTE: Today we finally have a guest post from our long time contributor Hansi.  Go check out his blog at Hansi’s Hallucinations.  He has some funny stories and some interesting drawings, all done by him.  Be sure to welcome him as our newest guest Coot.  He has now finally earned his degree from Coots University, this post was his dissertation.  He will defend it in the comments.  Thanks for the post Hansi, we look forward to more!**

 

I went to a memorial service for this old Probation Officer I worked with the other day. [ The service was the other day, not me working with him. That was a long time ago]. And speaking about a long time ago, I got to see a lot of former co-workers; all of whom are retired. Now that was a trip.

If the pay is right, i all works out.

The talk consisted of mostly “What are you doing” or “Are you still doing…?” And a lot of typical retiree subject matter: one’s health, which Medicare supplemental ya have, and all that small-talk that confirms , Yes, you are a geezer.  But when they asked me what I was doing , I almost felt guilty or ashamed ” I’m still there, I’m working part-time for probation.” Well that dropped some jaws.  Some folks couldn’t believe it, others just shook their heads.  The thought of going back was repugnant to many of them. But I thought, ‘To hell with em”. Most of them were the same persons that made the place so horrible to begin with.

Most beings I follow in the Blog-o-sphere are either retired or desperately wanting to be retired. That even includes my thirty year old Son.  I had to counsel him. by the way, that he had at least twenty five more years of eating shit before he could retire; something that didn’t sound too appetizing to him.  So I thought I’d do a halfway serious piece on retirement, and from a guy who is actually retired and not one of them fictional characters you see stories about in Yahoo Finance written by some thirty year old salesman in the Mutual Fund Industry.

I had a thirty year career as a probation officer and retired in 2004 at age fifty seven.  I really didn’t consider being a probation officer as a ‘career’ so much, but more of a job I had for a hell of a long time.  If you would have told back in college that I’d end up in corrections (the side that had the keys), I would a said, “What have you be smoking, and give me some?”.  The only thing I really did liked about probation, was the shock value of telling people what I did for a living..  “You must like working with people”, being a standard response.   Right, if you’re a PO, you don’t like working with people, you like screwin’ with them.  And by the way I did met some real up-standing folks as a PO, real gems, role-model material.

Why did I retire?  Cause I couldn’t stand it anymore!  And I could do it. And I decided to get the hell out.   Funny thing was, within nine months, after a brief sojourn doing volunteer work [that mythical source of promised meaningfulness for retirees] at Food Share, I was back! But not as a PO, but as a CSO: Corrections Services Officer. See, I used to work overtime at our old Juvenile Hall, but only cause I could make time and a half doing so (getting closer to what work is all about).  And our Agency just completed work on a brand new, state of the art “Facility”  [jail for kids] and needed experienced people to staff it.  I could work part-time, when I wanted, and was paid at top step DPO which was now more that what I made when working.

Sometimes you hardly notice.

See the secret to working in retirement is: you gotta have a good reason. Why else would ya want to go back and work for the same god-damned idiotic fools that made your life so miserable in the first place?.  And that good reason was Money, for me.  I got to admit though that I did kinda liked working in The Juvenile Facility.  It was like those “Locked Up” shows on MSNBC; searching cells, doing extractions and all that stuff. Now that was a real contact high, working with younger male co-workers in what was a super charged testosterone laden environment with Jizz levels off the charts.  Made me feel young again, breaking up fights and using pepper spray.

Most importantly, working in retirement allowed my wife and I to travel the world: Peru, New Zealand, Europe, the Yucatan and numerous side trips in the States.  I was a little travel-whore: will work for airfare. But really, it was a financial opportunity that I couldn’t pass-up. Well I worked until mid 2009, when the financial collapse caused the “County” to cut back, and us part-timers were the first to go.  But I’m back again, now working on massive drunk driver caseloads, sitting in front of a computer cranking out bullshit for four hours a day, three times a week [not to unlike blogging]. Probation had money again; were desperate again; and here I was…again.

The reason?  This was yet another financial opportunity I just couldn’t pass up.  The money is outstanding, the hours what I choose, and I’m pretty much left alone to crank out BS.   And in this economy, getting good paying part-time job ain’t easy.  Getting any job ain’t easy.

So what’s my point?  Working in retirement can be a good thing, even if it’s for the same incompetents you worked for before [if they were competent, they probably wouldn’t have needed me back again]. If you have skills that are still marketable, use ’em (or more correctly, rent them out).  My retired teacher buddy is doing something similar.  Being in an elementary school classroom again would kill him, but supervising home school families once a week is sweet.   Maybe everybody can’t do this, but if you can, I’d encourage to put aside all old feelings and try going back.  Hey they still may be sons of bitches, but if they pay well….oh well.

Well that’s this old Coot’s story. Not a very compelling argument for working after you’ve retired. But if one sees an opportunity, for anything really, you gotta jump on it, even in retirement.

 

Hansi

Hansi is a self-confessed geezer who just cant stop working so long as they let him work on his terms. Hansi was born and raised in Southern California and staying medicated allows him to remain serene and happy in that crazy place.

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Jul 022013
 
English: The earliest known draft of the Unite...

English: The earliest known draft of the United States Declaration of Independence, a fragment in the handwriting of Thomas Jefferson. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Hey folks, if you haven’t noticed, this post is simulcast both here on Catharsis of the Bogue and Cantankerous Old Coots.  It is almost the 4th of July here in the United States, one of my favorite holidays.

 

This image was selected as a picture of the we...

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 26th week, 2010. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

If you didn’t know, July 4th celebrates the day when a group of British citizens here in the American Colonies decided to give the finger to King George and make their own country.  July 4th is the day when those men we now call Patriots, signed one of the most important documents in the history of the world, the Declaration of Independence.

 

This is not just another day.  This is our Independence Day.  This is the day John Adams wrote to his wife about, saying,

 

“The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.

 

Those brave men who wrote, and then ratified that Declaration were so far from the milquetoast government that we have now.  They knowingly put their names to a document that labeled each and every one of them traitors to the most powerful country on the Earth at that time.  And they knew what they could make out of this country.  They knew that King George was not the way.  They knew that we had to have our own laws, our own officials, our own taxes.

 

And now, this country, with all of the problems that we do have, still shines as a beacon to the world, a democracy, a republic that has lasted for over 200 years.  This Thursday is July 4th, when we should be with our families.  We should raise a flag at dawn and salute whilst saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  We should read that Declaration of Independence and understand what they were fighting for.  We should read the Constitution and know what our country is built on.  There is no better time to be a patriot.

 

Tonight, Tuesday the 2nd, I took it upon myself to teach my Cub Scouts about the Declaration of Independence.  They range in ages from 8 to 10.  Most of them had only heard of the Declaration (and no, Abraham Lincoln did not have anything to do with the Declaration, despite the insistence of one 8 year old).  I gave each of them a copy that they could read with their families.  We read it together and discussed what it meant.  The other leaders and I tried not to realize that We, as Citizens of the USA, need to send a slightly edited copy of this document to Washington.  But I digress.  I know it is important to teach the Declaration and it’s meaning.  And to debunk the map on the back.  It exists only in Hollywood.

 

The Fourth of July, Independence Day, should not just be the day we watch fireworks.  It shouldn’t be the day we finish cleaning the car, or mowing the lawn.  We should be thankful for this country.  We should give thanks to whatever God we worship that we are here, and are free of tyranny.  We should thank our Service Men and Women for defending that freedom that we began fighting for back in 1775.

 

I love going to community festivals on Independence Day.  I really like to be with others, celebrating this country and the fact that we are Americans.  I love the “Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations” that John Adams predicted.  I love to stand and remove my hat as the flag passes by during the parade, even when most people don’t bother.  I love to sing that National Anthem with a field full of people, all of like mind.

 

Many people say “Happy Birthday America.”  I do to.  But more importantly, I say , “Happy Independence Day.”   May you all have a great Independence Day, go out and celebrate, don’t let it be just another day.

 

-Justin

 

 

 

 

 

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Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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Jun 012013
 
1926 Ford Model T

1926 Ford Model T (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello everyone.  If you haven’t noticed, a slight change to our posting schedule is now placing the CFBTN on Friday!  That’s right I will have a few stories here to get you through your weekend.

Now, I was perusing theonion.com and fark.com for some good news stories because they usually have the humor already distilled.  I did find that the regular news is full of funny stuff and it is not too far fetched to get the funny from my local news.  But not today.  Let’s get right to it shall we?

Fergus Falls man arrested for disorderly conduct while mowing lawn in loin cloth

And you guys thought this was a free country and Bob was more than a little crazy for his Tinfoil Hat Club.  Ha!  I just bought some Reynolds wrap….

All yours for £1.75millon: Entire village for sale includes a haunted castle, a Lordship title, 70 homes and approval for a holiday park

I’ll tell you, I am saving my pennies and hoping they have a payment plan.  I did the conversion for you, that equals $2,826,580.71.  I could be a real Lord and then my kids would have to listen to me or I could have them thrown in the dungeon!

Zoo keeper licked constipated monkey’s buttocks for an hour to help it defecate a peanut

This guy is either a) Way too committed to his job, b) a pervert, or c)…you know there is no other choice except all of the above and that is what I vote.  Good grief, get some ex-lax already.

Mosquitoes Don’t Even Need To Bite Us, Study Shows

I knew it all along…..

And a related story: (this one is an audio clip)    Justice….sweet Justice

And now your political funny:

Romney Courts Hispanic Vote With Animated Sombrero-Wearing Parrot

I just don’t quite know what to do…

And now, here is a video wrapping up the week in transportation:

Kid Screaming Behind Passenger During Entire Plane Crash 

I do agree with the last sentence, criticize if you want but you clicked on it.

And finally, I found this story.

Today Now! Host Undergoes Horrifically Painful Surgery Live On Air

I do believe that this country is too into video.  Everywhere.  I am worried that Bob may try something like this when he gets his government scrambler implanted….
Have a great weekend, if you have a suggestion for the CFBTN send it to me: Justin@cantankerousoldcoots.com.

and sorry for the ads on the videos, but hey, they are free.

Later.

-Justin

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Justin

Justin is the young Coot with a Cantankerous Soul who continues to be educated by older, more cootish Ralph and Bob. His Cantankerosity is his own.

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Mar 192013
 

“We’ve heard that a million monkeys at a million keyboards could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know that it is not true.” Robert Wilensky

Coots are modest human beings. We don’t hold high regard for our intelligence or marketing skills. That appraisal is reinforced daily when we check for comments here at our blog or review the reader stats. We are not about to produce literary genius here. There will be no Coot Sonnets pledging our unrequited love for all time; no epic poems glorifying Coots past. Our only softening in the realm of art is Justin’s sweet kettle bells
playing from time to time.
The web is a circus sideshow full of smoke and mirrors, snake oil and pretense. There is a sucker born every minute and from what we see, they all have blogs. They bought the notion they probably learned in the public school system that they have something to say and even worse that somebody cares. The web makes it easy to indulge that ignorance so here we are today with billions of words  of drivel to wade through each day when we venture into the web.

So the Coot message for today, shared modestly with our small select group of discriminating readers. Spread the word about Coots. Here you won’t find snake oil or smoke and mirrors. What you see is what you get. We don’t know shit! We don’t pretend to know shit! But we have been around the block a few times. We have seen much and we don’t like it. And that’s what we share. We tell it like it is. We call ’em as we see ’em. And we don’t demean our readers by sucking up to them. So if you want straight talk and real opinion, you are in the right place. If you want monkeys writing Shakespeare, try the Huffington Post.  Sign up for our mailing list and you even get priceless lessons on how you can develop your Cootness.  Where else can you get that?

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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Mar 112013
 

Can put up with a Cantankerous Old Coot?

One of the frequently asked questions around here is about how you get to be one of the lucky women married to a cantankerous old coot. Maybe we need to ask Bob’s new bride how she hit the jackpot.   Is it luck?  Propinquity? Careful planning?  I can’t, of course speak for Justin and Bob’s experience.  I only know my own and I have to confess that I see only luck.  There is no way that my wife could have realized what  a wonderful catch she had found that rainy Saturday in New Haven.  In fact, it was only because she was new in town that she didn’t throw me back into the dating pool.  Not that I wasn’t dashing in my baby blue combat boots and day-glow poncho (my college pick up outfit).  It was just that after the introductory burst of personality, I I was still a grad school dweeb.

Even if she wasn’t swept off her feet that night, something kept us together that year and connected even after I graduated and moved 3,000 miles away.  I knew I had found a keeper though I made her do the pursuing.  You can call that an early manifestation of Cootness or you can just call it stupidity.  Whatever you call it, my wife eventually graduated and joined me in LA. Then after some coaxing, we married, raised our family, fought and loved.

Looking back over all those years-

happilyeverafterSo here we are now in the idyllic Sierra foothills, enjoying our senior moments and trying to get the last kid out of the house in spite of the abysmal Obama economy.  What has it all meant?  Has it been a wonderful life?  Will Hollywood producers line up to make a movie?  Probably not.  Looking back, I see a few things that should have gone better, priorities that got skewed but all in all at this point, as Hillary Clinton says “What difference does it make?”

Well, the biggest difference that I see looking back over 40 years is the woman I met, by chance at a Halloween party that rainy New England evening.

That’s not really an answer to the question that started this post.  It doesn’t really explain how my wife got to be so lucky.  She is, of course, lucky but  luck is not so easily explained.  There is also the complication that luck can be shared.  I was lucky too; lucky that a casual conversation in the grad school coffee shop snagged me an invitation to Susan’s party; lucky that my wife got an invitation as well and finally lucky that I forced myself into an uncomfortable position of going to a party where I didn’t know anyone.

The Road Less Traveled..

Long story short, my wife didn’t have a clue that night how lucky she was because the Coot-to-be she snagged that night was disguised as an ordinary grad school nebbish.

Bottom line, I don’t know how to answer the question.  Even after all these years, life is a great mystery to me.  Most of the time, it is a messy experience with the wrong people making the wrong decisions about too many things that mess up my life.  Most of the time, I find myself railing at the stupidity that makes my life difficult.  But when the dust settles, my ranting is done and I retreat back to the safety of my home to lick my wounds and plot revenge, I realize how lucky I am.

Because of that chance encounter 40 years ago and a bit of effort from time to time since, I have a home.  My wife has made a sanctuary of peace and security where a Cantankerous Old Coot can find comfort and forget about life’s problems.

Yes, my wife is a lucky woman but it goes far beyond being married to a Cantankerous Old Coot.  It took a long time for me to see what she gave me and even longer to learn how to pay her back.  My wife is lucky because she was willing to stick with me until I was mature and responsible enough to understand that I can never do enough for her to make up for all she has given me.

So what kind of woman can marry a Cantankerous Old Coot?

If you really want an answer to the question, ladies, this is the best I can do for you.  It takes long term planning.  You need to become the kind of woman that will give herself to a man that doesn’t deserve her and hope that he will rise to the challenge.  Find some worthless dweeb and devote 40 years to making a home for him.  Then, if you are lucky, he will develop into someone of consequence- a Cantankerous Old Coot, if you will.  And you will live happily ever after.

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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