Check me if I'm wrong Charlie, but don't we only have a limited time on this here planet? And we all have to spend a pretty big chunk of that time waiting. A quick check on this inter web thingy allowed me to discover we spend an average of six months of our lives waiting. And I don't think that includes traffic.
One site said the average person throughout their lifetime waits about five years. FIVE YEARS! What are they, average age centurions???
I mean, some waits are unavoidable. Like the DMV. Or the ER. (Unless something's been traumatically amputated and you're spurting blood everywhere.) Or the bank at 9:00 AM on a Friday. Or the grocery store at 5:00 PM on a Friday. Or the local Starbuck's drive-through. Anytime.
I once walked out of a doctor's office without ever seeing the doc. I got tired of waiting.
My lovely wife and I had recently moved to Monterey, CA and had been looking for a new GP. She found a guy and just raved about him. One of his slogans was a patient never had to wait. I like slogans like that.
I showed up for my appointment on time. (I am quite punctual by the way.) The nurse got me in a room quite expeditiously and took my vitals. She said the doc would be in right away.
An hour later I had to go. Not for any real particular reason except for the fact I had been stewing for fifty minutes (I'll give anybody ten minutes) and had been listening to the doc playing ukulele in the room next door for some old coot for about thirty minutes.
Now don't get me wrong, playing ukuleles, or any other musical instrument for that matter, for anyone, even an old coot, is a wonderful endeavor. But it was on my time.
And I wasn't the old coot.
So I got up and walked out of the exam room where I immediately stumbled upon three female employees of the doc's. They all looked at me quite surprised, wondering what an unescorted patient was doing wandering the hall.
I said, "I gotta go. I don't wait well."
One of them mentioned that I looked a little flushed and flustered. And then they all three looked aghast when they figured out I had been sitting in the little room for an hour. All by myself. Without even a magazine. And before smart phones were invented.
The doc called later that evening, apologizing quite effusively and profusely and even mentioned his slogan that nobody waits. Ever.
He turned out to be a pretty good guy. I'll give anybody a second chance. But we were only in Monterey for a year so that doctor-patient relationship didn't last too long.
I have a great GP now, waits are always minimal. Same with my dentist. Life is good. In those arenas.
Ya mostly can't avoid a line at the grocery store, unless you go at 8:00 AM. Which I usually do. But if I can't go in the morning for whatever reason and there are any lines at all you can be sure I'll pick the slowest one. Almost always. It's ma thing.
Take Raley's early one Sunday afternoon. My lovely wife and I were getting a hand basket of groceries, which turned out to be quite ironic since we ended up in hell before we even had a chance to leave the store.
I have to be careful here, because I have been referred to as an "old timer" and "older gentleman" before, but this old guy has his act together in any check out line 99.99% of the time. Hell, I even bag half the time.
I guess I feel it is my responsibility to move through time as efficiently as possible so as not to inconvenience or slow anybody else down. Boils down to respect. Besides, maybe somebody in line behind me has to poop. You never know.
And probably don't want to.
At any rate, the little old lady in front of us didn't quite have a seeming form of cognizant wherewithal anywhere within her realm. I can't really recall what the issue was. Coupon confusion? Discount dystopia? Trying to count out eighty-eight cents in exact change with no quarters from a forty year old coin purse?
While my lovely wife and I were soaking up way too much of Raley's early afternoon atmosphere, the lady behind us brought up a good point. Perhaps this completely oblivious to her immediate surroundings ding bat was keeping us from being in a horrible automobile accident. Many circumstances that occur are merely seconds away from happening to anyone as we dance through this time machine.
So there's that train of thought. Which was good. I needed that perspective. Cause I was about to shoot somebody.
I had to leave a K-Mart line one time because both the customer and cashier were trying to out stupid each other. Something to do with about two dollars and a coupon. I was next in line, with my three-year-old grandson in tow. You know, a three-year-old, the epitome of patience.
I offered both of them two dollars. Didn't work.
So these two seventh grade drop outs we're trying to un-wit each other for at least five minutes, maybe more. The alcoholic lady in back of me was getting vocal.
She started with not so quiet sighs and harrumphs. Which then led to, "Are you kidding me? Jeeeeeze. Come on. You've got to be kidding me. What are you doing up there? I need a drink. Why don't you idiots call management? Hey managemennnnnnnt!"
And so on.
I finally put my stuff down and left with a rather impatient grandson in tow. Nothing on earth was worth further witness of that circus.
Don't get me wrong. I know stupid exists. I just prefer minimal exposure. To keep me sane.
If there's gonna be a stupid fest, just do it over there. I'm not in two places at once, so generally speaking, when you consider the size of the planet, there's really plenty of room to be stupid and not be anywhere near me.
Even with those odds, oddly enough, I still get caught up in all kinds of it.
I've covered quite a few unavoidable lines and waits, now I'll let you know what I do to avoid those that I can.
Let's start with the dump. I used to go first thing in the morning, just like the grocery store. But somehow, someway, everyone decided that was a good time. I got caught in a major CF about a year ago at 8:00 AM and was close to forty minutes in line. That almost gave me a coronary.
I have since revised my strategy and am once again enjoying relatively wait free dump runs. In lieu of any natural climatological event, I usually go about 1:00PM. It's always been pretty quiet with minimal waits.
But if there are natural climatological events, like rain or excessive heat, it's on. I have found that most dump runners are fair weather players. I will plan a dump run in line with rain, always. Who doesn't mind a little weather now and then? AND THERE IS NOBODY THERE!!!
I mean, like, nobody 'cept the employees.
Another potential wait I always try to avoid is the post office. The downtown Grass Valley post office is always a mess, always. I try and avoid that place like I would a colonoscopy.
There's a local independent grocery store that's close by and has a US Postal outlet. That's where I usually go. And if I'm out and about I'll also swing by the Cedar Ridge post office. It's a couple miles out of the way, but I'd rather spend a few minutes driving through gorgeous terrain than stare at the back of somebody's head.
And I usually go in the morning. Like 8:00AM. It's my magical, mystical time to run all my errands. I have found most folks, it seems, spend their mornings getting things together around the house and then venture out in the late morning/early afternoon.
Case in point: I had a priority box to mail. I was going to my son's house the next day to help fix his broke tailgate handle and the grocery store PO is on the way. Simple. 8:00 AM and off.
But Wednesday afternoon I had an emergency dental appointment, another tooth gone south. Lucky me. So I had to take what they had, a 4:00 PM appointment.
By the way, given the choice and time, I always book my appointments for the morning. Again, less idiots out and about and there's less of a chance one of those idiots didn't foul up my appointment time by being late before me.
Nothing chaps my hide more than me having to wait for my appointment because some inconsiderate asshole that was scheduled before me was late for theirs.
By the way, just thinking about it, and this is sort of scary if you really think about it, I don't think I've ever been late for an appointment. Ever. And I'm sixty-four. I'm also, apparently, somewhat anal when it comes to matters of this nature.
No wonder I hate to wait.
So I was actually running a little ahead of my game, and at 3:00 PM I thought, "Maybe I can drop this by the PO and then head over to Grocery Outlet for a few minutes before my appointment. That way I'll have a few extra minutes tomorrow."
This turned out to be an incredibly ugly thought. One of the worst I've had in a long, long time.
I hope I never have one like that again.
I knew the traffic around the grocery store PO could be heavy, especially in the afternoon. There's a strip mall and a Kmart in the same center, and a block away is another center with Penny's, Raley's, fast food, Starbucks. And a number of other obsequious little concerns. Yeah, it could be a nightmare. But I reasoned I had time to burn. Which is rare in my world. No worries.
Until I got to the glass door of the grocery store and noticed the PO line was at least five deep. That was going to cut into my Grocery Outlet time. I swiftly turned around.
"What the hell," I shrugged, "I'll just swing out to Cedar Ridge, then mosey to Grocery Outlet. It may take more time but at least I won't have to stare at the back of someone's head."
I still had forty minutes and it was sort of on the way. In a very round about sorta way.
As I pulled in to the Cedar Ridge Post Office parking lot about 3:30 PM, I immediately noticed a line of at least five deep.
Apparently everyone goes to the post office in the afternoon. I made a note.
I also left. I would fall back to my original plan and hit the grocery store post office in the morning. But I still had a few minutes to burn. Off to Grocery Outlet I went!
Grocery Outlet was a couple miles, a few pine trees and two traffic lights away. It is also located in one of the most commercial areas in the county. What was I thinking?
As I approached the center, traffic instantaneously became a nightmare. Poof! There were cars and humans and commotion was everywhere. It was as if everyone in Nevada County had descended all at once to the exact spot where I was. I wanted to be sneaky, unfettered and free. I turned out to be a magnet for frenzy.
I did not pull in to the parking lot. There were about fifty cars trying to get out. I feared if I went in I would never get out. And I'd be late for my appointment. And I've never been late for an appointment.
I fled to my dentist's office parking lot a couple blocks away and hid for fifteen minutes. I took the back route too. I left the afternoon world of chaos and confusion behind.
Moments like those only reinforce my preference of running errands in the morning. I hit the grocery store post office the next morning at 8:02 AM. No one was in line. It took about forty-five seconds. And I didn't have to stare at the back of someone's head.
Ever wrangle manzanita? It's kinda like bull riding, or playing rugby with a swarm of bees. Or maybe a rousing tug of war against the entire front line of the Oakland Raiders.
See that stuff up there? It's a whole little forest with trunks from one to four inches in diameter and up to fifteen feet in length. Some grow vertically, but many grow kinda horizontally vertical at about a thirty degree angle.
When thinning, you cut from behind and then pull backwards to remove it from the pack. If they just laid on top of their cousin, sometimes they give fairly easily. But many times the tops have intertangled themselves with their next door buddies and the tug occurs.
Great exercise for the shoulders and back, sometimes hard on the butt and knees when it finally "gives" during a ferocious tug and both you and the branch fly backwards. Sometimes landing hard on previously cut trunks.
Good times.
I'm trying to find a market for this stuff. I have hundreds of feet of it. Prime manzanita.
If you know anyone that has a couple pet Condors, or a herd of other large birds that might need a perch, please give me a holler.
We just had a hell of a time finding fire insurance. Or previous carrier, Merced, went bankrupt after the Camp Fire in Paradise last November. They were taken over by the State of California, and our insurance lapsed on January 2nd.Our previous broker as well as ourselves probably called every insurance carrier in existence. Twenty? Forty? Trust me, every one you've ever heard of and then some.
We've finally found one through the high hazard arm of AAA. $4,800 a year!
You see, apparently we are in what is called a high risk wildfire area. It doesn't matter that I have done an incredible amount of land clearing as well as adding a lot of fire protection. Water tanks, sprinklers, generators etc. Doesn't matter. Our zip code comes up as a wildfire risk and the insurance companies are running scared.
Besides the increased premium, property values could also take a hit. Of course there are a multitude of factors; like climate change, lazy property owners and PG&E for instance.
I think every property owner needs to take living in the hills a bit more seriously. Yeah, I know,
land clearing and maintaining is the hardest darn work a property owner has to do. But if everyone was a good steward and simply took care of their own ground we wouldn't see the conflagrations like the one that took the town of Paradise.
And folks could save a lot of money on gym fees. Plus get clean, renewable fuel for heat.
Win Win Win.
Is the Fire Insurance a separate policy on top of your Homeowners Insurance?
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