Swappers Day, the Collection and The Motion

Swappers Day, Johnstown Ohio. Another time and place. A short drive on Highway 62 takes you from Columbus to Johnstown. It is probably only about thirty minutes, but time is just a series of numbers that move through space and I am uncomfortable with numbers, and not a little unsteady with space. Let’s just say we could listen to my Obsession Playlist twice so my wife could decide which to choose (Don’t forget to exercise your right to vote)^1.  We still had time to talk about the knights suit of armor on the back porch of the small house right on the side of the highway, and the other things that make traveling so much fun.

We have been going to Swappers Day for about five years. My wife started her new job, and one of her coworkers, one of her friends, who has become one of my friends, told her about it. We are always game for crowds, sales and festival food. We really had no idea what we were about to see. Even now, all these years later it is still new, and always interesting.

One of our favorites is the negotiations. Intense, occasionally difficult to understand.

“Look, I’ll take sixty dollars, but that is the best I can do, it is still a hell of a deal and you’ll still make money off it.” Which seemed, to me, an odd sales pitch for a compound bow. But, the quiet, bearded Amish man, dressed in his simple clothes was comfortable with the price and the implication and bought the bow.

Or the angry exchange between vendor and woman customer.

“It’s marked as ten dollars, I’ll give you five.” The woman offered.

“I’ll take seven.” The vendor countered

“Are you f*&#ing crazy?” An agressive counter offer from the woman.

You have to enjoy the people. It is always the people, more than the booths, the food, the wild variety of products displayed, bickered over, bartered for and occasionally sworn about. It is always the people.

There is an old couple with a really nice camper, an expensive, newer model that looks comfortable, and huge. They always have a “booth” right by the road. Several tables under an awning with a few trinkets scattered tastefully and sparsely, it looks more like a museum display than a sales booth. the sit in comfortable looking folding chairs and watch the crowd mill past. I can’t help but think they are there on a little vacation, to see some old friends, to make some new friends, money isn’t everything, right? For some reason the thought makes me happy.

Some places have no camper, no tents, just tables piled high with tools, like they were dumped there from a tractor’s bucket. Old tools, newer tools, wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, chisels, tools for every job. All you had to do was pull out the one you wanted, and hope the rest didn’t fall on the ground in avalanche of clanging, clattering metal. You break it you bought it. I’m not very good with tools, so I just look, from a distance.

There are some people who are there on business. Pulling carts recklessly, homicidally through the crowded paths, looking for a bargain, they are the most aggressive negotiators, pity the poor vendor who has the item they want for their shop, sale, booth or swap meet table. They are as hostile stationary as they are moving.

One guy was pulling a cart full of guns, he stopped at a booth with a lot of guns laid out on a table, and asked “Are you interested in buying any guns?” He asked, politely, and they talked quietly about the guns. Before he moved on he bought at least one more gun from the table to add to his traveling sales cart. You have to love the people. 

It was a good day, and we are already looking forward to next year.

1.  At last check it was a three way tie between An Emotional Fish, Dr. John and Scandal. Which leads me to believe nobody watched the Midnight Oil video, Peter Garrett was a wild man.

Life Explained Explains the War on Christmas, kind of.

Today is December 20th, it is time to for my annual war on Christmas. Yes, I am once again taking up my futile battle with the most excessive of holidays. It is time to rail against the blatant consumerism, wretched scramble for anything to wrap, the insincere mask of the season of giving.

It gives me a headache. Last night when I stopped to buy a six pack of beer and a television dinner there were two Santa's ringing bells at either end of the entry to the grocery store. The one on the southern approach was doing much better. People were dropping clinking piles of change in his little red bucket, 35, 40, 50 cents at a time. Give until it hurts and they have a low threshold for pain.

Northern Santa was not happy, he had three pull tabs from empty cans and 17 cents, so he moved closer. And then a little closer, and then he was standing in the entryway. People were overcome with the spirit of the season, seeing this man in a fake white beard, and a shiny red plastic suit, sweating in the unseasonable warmth, blocking the path into the grocery store. So they turned around and went back to their cars where the guilt and shame was a little more remote and off camera.

Of course the store management was not happy, and asked the offending Santa to move out of the entryway. He did, he moved just south of the southern Santa, where he started raking in the dough, after several minutes he had accumulated almost 90 cents from the dozens of people walking into the store to spend thousands of dollars.

Charity is a zero sum game and this windfall for the new southernmost Santa, formerly the northernmost Santa, (hereafter referred to as Santa A) was an automatic loss for the former southernmost Santa, (henceforth known as Santa B). Santa B (for the sake of brevity let's call him B) moved just a few feet south of Santa A (going forward he will just be A). A was furious.

A moved past B. B began swearing and threatened A with grievous bodily harm.

"Give it your best shot, fat boy." A said, puffing out his chest with the arrogance only a fake beard and a shiny red plastic suit will provide.

They began wrestling rolling on the ground, grunting with exertion, knocking over a display marked "peace on earth" and filled with artificial evergreen wreaths. They wallowed through the fake needles, the sprayed on fragrance covering both of them in a gentle pine scent.

A crowd gathered and bets were placed. A bright young man, who was studying applied business techniques, ran inside and bought candy bars and cold soda and began selling concessions. People were buying the patio furniture that had been marked down to clearance prices early in the fall and lit fires, roasting hot-dogs and marshmallows.

The air was filled with a joy and festivity that was seen nowhere else in the city, nowhere else in the whole country. A and B eventually ran out of air and just stopped, breathing in ragged shallow breaths, laying on the ground, unable to move, they were locked in a warm, almost tender embrace, sweat dripping from the synthetic beards.

The store made a fortune selling everything from fire pits to canned cheese and boxed crackers, the crowd went away happy, the Santa's made a good haul, and the Christmas spirit that was on display was put back in the bottle. People snarled at each other and cursed their fellow man with all the venom of the season, and Christmas was back to normal.

"And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight..." Well you know the rest.

We "Hire" a New Supervisor.

Time is fluid. Maybe it doesn't exist at all. Maybe it is a fiction, produced by humanity to enslave people when a society reaches a level when slavery is frowned upon. It is certainly not a constant. Once you are stuck in a budget meeting with upper management you understand how time is an instrument of torture. Minutes hammer you, seconds drain your will to live.

"This year has been golden in terms of productivity per unit. We have produced far fewer units, but each one took less time. We are really cranking out the units, just not very many, and nobody is really buying them. However, the units we do sell are increasingly profitable." On and on Geoff  Gordon, from production bragged. "We have reduced our time and cost per unit to almost half of last years expense." Geoff carefully avoided mentioning sales, or marketing, but his glance at Jill spoke volumes. His gaze dripped contempt for the departments that weren't production. Geoff was big, and had beautiful hair, wavy, and thick and always perfect. It made him look taller than the  6' 3" he was, and brilliantly powerful, though he wasn't.

Jill was next.

"While sales have languished a little this year we have made inroads into key markets. Many large retailers looked closely at our product, and we could have closed some very big deals had the quality been a little higher." She smiled at Geoff. At least her lips were curved upward, but it had no warmth. Her white, smooth skin, under her long, dark, red hair glowed with bitter animosity, and her revulsion was obvious.

She droned on about bounce rates, retention, key accounts, and CRM, and it seems there were some charts about per customer purchases, but it is a little foggy. I may have fallen asleep.

Finally, "Plus, many of the key customers cut back on orders, saying we needed to introduce something new to the pipeline. Everybody loved the Bulbous 200 when it was introduced, it was the hottest thing, but that was 3 years ago, and that is a lifetime in this industry." She flashed a mocking grin at the Willy from R and D. It was cold, hateful and shared her complete disregard for the whole department.

I tired to figure out how to play a game of Tetris on my phone without drawing attention to myself. I had been here for 3 days this morning, I was hungry, thirsty and nature called, and things were just getting started. We had 4 more departments to go, then cross examination. We would never get out of here alive.

Willy took the stand next, he was long winded, and constantly used "ummm" as filler. This would never end. "We, ummmm, have new...." he paused, coughed, and started to flail around wildly, clutching his chest, and grunting, cursing, and moaning. I thought he was having a heart attack.

Almost at once he stood, straight, erect, and his eyes glowed, red, horrible, and ominous. In a deep voice that echoed terribly around the room he said, "I am Siritor, flail of the netherworld, monster from the deep, demon from the ancient past, this is a hostile takeover. I now own 51 percent of the stock, and have the board of directors locked in a dungeon where they will support my every decision. Are there any questions?"

"Could I take tomorrow off? I have a dental appointment, I need a filling, and I hate coming to work with face all numb." I asked.

Yes, that will be fine." Siritor, said, grabbing a bagel, dismissing the meeting, and walking towards the CEO's office. Almost as one three department heads said, "hey, we didn't get our turn." Siritor laughed and kept walking.

This might work out ok.

Christmas, Time to Celebrate the Life Explained Way.

We, here at Life Explained, Ohio Office (LE uhoh), have examined the meaning of the holiday season. It is steeped in mystery, and intrigue. Many people feel it is about finding and filling spiritual needs. Others feel it is a time to connect with family, and friends, to strengthen the ties of blood, and affection.  Others, still, feel it is a festive party season, a chance to shower people with love, and presents, and tokens of appreciation.

Turns out it isn't any of that. It was established by the printing industry, in a unique spirit of cooperation with timber harvesting companies as an excuse to generate enormous amounts of catalogs and profits printing sale flyers, toy catalogs, and shopping advertisements. It was a huge success.

Soon retailers jumped on board. It was a great opportunity. In August, at a predetermined time they quietly raised prices to an agreed upon level. Then, when Thanksgiving rolls around they have a "Black Friday Sale." Prices are reduced to, what is known in retail circles as, the "July Level."

Newspaper carriers suffer through the day with sore backs, aching feet, strained shoulders, and thinking "I have nothing to be thankful for, except non steroid anti inflammatory drugs." Kicking off the joyous season, in a realistic way.

Soon the stores are filled with people clutching sale flyers, ads, and lists. There are fights for the big screen televisions caught on security footage. "Merry Christmas, you son of a bitch. Now hand over the high tech sale item before I have to kill you, and have a nice day."

So, to combat this vicious progression, we here at Life Explained Ohio Office (LEHOHOHO) have raised the prices on all of the items on our Gift Shop Website to ridiculous levels. It is your duty to buy several over priced items, and add a nice gratuity, we are doing this for everybody.

A little Holiday Advice, from a Trusted Source.

Thanksgiving is over, thank God, now we can start getting ready for Christmas. Actually it is socially acceptable to begin preparations when Halloween is over. The trick is to blend Thanksgiving and Christmas into one long celebration. It is not a good idea to advertise that kind of thinking. Wiser to just kind of mumble it in. Try "Happy ThanksChristmas, here is my gift list."

Running the words together is your left jab, preoccupying your opponent, putting them off balance, making them doubt what they heard. Before they have time to regroup, question the statement you strike with the right cross! the Christmas List. All they can do is stutter a thank you, and ask what you have planned for the holidays.

Of course it is vital that your list is complete, with a spreadsheet comparing prices, at several stores, with directions to each. Phone numbers, and web site addresses are optional, but it is recommended.

Also, you want to have several lists, with different items, you don't want any of those morons you call friends, or family doubling up on that new Xbox Whatever They Call It.*

It is also important to remember that there are people who want to buy you something but are having a rough time, maybe experiencing a financial setback. Make sure there are plenty of less expensive items on there for those losers too. It is Christmas after all.

Of course, after careful consideration, and a thorough examination of my lists we might need to celebrate Happy Independence Christmas next year.

Anyway, enjoy shopping, buy lots of stuff, and don't forget to send your favorite Holiday Shopping Madness pictures to me.


* I don't suggest telling people exactly what they should give you. People can resent that.

Shopping Trauma.

Monday, back at work, safely hidden behind the solid red brick walls of the 100 year old building.  In here things are hectic, time is skewed by the dual reality of the products, and the need to finish everything before the artificial deadline imposed by the holiday.  But, out there, beyond the rock solid, impenetrable walls of this sanctuary, things are mad.  Christmas has taken hold of people.  It has twisted minds.  People are so intent on spreading good cheer they will kill.

We were out there yesterday.  My wife and I went to finish up some shopping.  A few small details to be finished.  Traffic was awful.  Parking was awful.  Cars were circling, bird of prey like, around the lot.  Waiting for someone to leave.  Three or four cars would follow anybody foolish enough to carry shopping bags to their car.  In some cases the people would put the bags in the car, hydrate briefly and head back inside, willing to fight on.  Anger would fog the windows and you could hear the cursing.  Some cars would bulge a little at the doors as the rage tried to escape.

In the stores the conditions were no better.  Macy's was packed.  It was a scene from "Day of the Dead."  Madness ruled the consumer.  People were grabbing bargains, regardless of usefulness.  It was better to get a good deal on something that had no value to you personally than let someone else have it.  Act quickly or leave with nothing, those were the choices.

Most of the day I hid behind my wife.  She is fearless in the fray.  But, there were a few tense moments when we became separated by the flow.  I would rush to catch up, and fall in step behind her.  One horrible time I stopped to look at something, something pointless, something that had no relevance, but the price was so good, maybe we should get a couple, maybe someone we know would like one, maybe we could give it to...  Oh no, the disease was after me now!!!

Looking frantically around I spotted my wife, a couple of aisles over, looking at shirts for our sons.  I rushed to her, she was a rock, and island in the ocean of insane, holidayness.  Unfortunately, I cut the corner a little too sharply, it was a mad dash.  After bumping a young, well dressed young man, I stopped, and turned to face him to apologize for brushing against him.  It was only a mistake in trajectory, and he should know I had no malice.  Imagine my terror when I discovered he was headless.  I panicked, looking around for the head I had knocked off this poor, very nattily dressed young man.

I was so relieved to discover it was only a mannequin!  But, then I wondered what happened to the mannequins head.  I looked around at the shoppers in their garish, gaudy, festive holiday gear.  Who had ripped the head off this mannequin.  What kind of person?  Why?  Had someone used it as a bludgeon.  In a mad dash for the last muffler mitten set anything is fair.  Looking around, I had no doubt most of these holiday shoppers would use a mannequins head to beat a person into submission over a pair of appropriately priced pajamas.

When I reached my wife I said "stay close to me, I will protect you."  She laughed a little and said "OK."

Summer Time, Magic in the Making!

Yesterday was the summer solstice.  This carries very little importance these days, but it used to be momentous, spiritual, and celebrated.  Now it passes with little notice, and no real celebration.  Summer solstice marks the new season in all of it's warmth, light, growth, and the promise of life, potential.  The joy of yard work, and the smell of fresh cut grass, gardens and the aroma of flowers, the thrill of watching the vegetables, planted by hand,

bear crop.  It is the longest day of the year, and it brings a sure sign of summer, back to school sales.

That's right, folks, time to start getting ready for fall, pencils, pens, notebooks, and expensive caculators so complicated nobody can possibly understand or use them.  All on sale at such ridiculously low prices they will never see equal.  Until the next advertisement, that is.

Also, you might want to stock up on long sleeved shirts, pants, jackets and thermal underwear.  Don't forget to schedule an appointment to winterize your car.  Oh, and stocking hats and gloves, you need to make sure you have those.

While we are at it, don't forget to start buying some candy for Halloween, and now is the time to get a deal on Thanksgiving items (we recommend putting off buying the turkey until the Fourth of July Christmas Sale Extravaganza!).  

Summer, the season of outdoor life, grills, picnics, baseball, and preparation.  

This message was bought to you by the International Association of Stores.  Please buy a bunch,

Bargains, Deals, Sales, Galore.

The government has been enduring the budget cuts forced by sequestration for quite a while.  It has become a  boon for bargain hunters.  The government has been laying off people, left, right, up, down, in the middle, the ax is falling everywhere.  And all of those people had desks, desk chairs, staplers, pen holders, lever handled three hole punch machines, and computers.  Of course, the government stores some of this, but much of it goes on sale, ridiculously cheap.

If you know someone you can find some good deals.  Fortunately, we here at Life Explained know lots of somebodies.  We had several large defense department contracts during the late 90s and the early part of the last decade.  Mostly dealing with the construction of parking structures in hostile environments, nobody wants their M1A2 Abrams, 68 ton, Main Battle Tank to sit out in the elements, and get all spotted and potentially rusty.

Or that is what we thought, and so did several members of key congressional committees, who received generous election donations from an unnamed donor.  Turns out those things are remarkably sturdy, and a lot bigger, and heavier than cars, even the big SUVs.  Man, was that general guy mad when that tank fell through the floor, and landed on his limousine.  It would have been funny the way he was hopping around, screaming and swearing, and throwing his sunglasses and hat on the ground, if it weren't for all of those guys with all of those guns, knives, hand grenades, rocket launchers, and all sorts of explosive, violent stuff. It seemed like everybody there was holding a weapon.  So, we left, we can take a hint.

Anyhoo, a guy we had worked with called us and said they were "decommissioning" a large number of large, dangerous, expensive nuclear weapons, all of which were controlled by computers, which were no longer needed.  He said we could pick up some serious computational power for pennies on the dollar.  We are always in the market for a deal, so we jumped on the opportunity.

They are not your standard PC, and there is a steep learning curve to the program architecture, and the hardware associations, but it came with a video, and a manual, so we should be OK.  Here is a picture of the cover.

It was nice while it lasted.

Recently we found a new portal to a different dimension.  It was opened, completely by accident, when the receptionist, here at Life Explained, pressed the button to open the front door, (after he spoke with the person through the intercom, it was just an employee who forgot her security card) which is a button on his computer keyboard, and posted a status update on Facebook, which was a copy of tweet he read, while answering his smart phone, which was plugged in to his computer, charging and updating, all at the same time.  It seems so much duplex communication created a rift in the delicate fabric of reality.

It was pretty cool, but no one was sure what to do, a huge swirling opening in the reception area.  We all stood around, looking at this thing, trying to make a decision.  Should somebody walk through, stick their hand through, maybe a trash can, or that annoying person from the legal department, I think his name is Bob.  

Bob, from sales, threw his business card into the "opening" and in seconds his phone rang, and someone from other dimension ordered two hundred thousand units of the most expensive books in stock, and added a huge gratuity, just to be nice.  There was a problem with an inter dimensional line of credit, but, for that kind of order, our accounting people can be pretty creative.

As Bob, from accounting,  was setting up the inter-dimensional wire of funds, he got an email offering him a job, doubling his salary, setting up a network for the "people" on "the Other Side" of the portal.  It seems they had a lot of trouble finding decent consumer convenience items, and what they could find were overpriced, and shoddily constructed.

A scream of delight signaled, sent people rushing to the R&D department where the intern was dancing around, a smile of joy on her face, talking excitedly about the text message from "the Other Side," offering to buy her latest painting.  The offer was so generous she could actually quit, and go to an art and design college of some renown. 

Soon, people were scrambling to get close enough to toss a card, a post it note, cocktail napkin,

Doberman Setter

anything that would hold a hastily concocted, quickly scribbled business proposal, an offer of service,  or a fantastically embellished resume.

Before long people were pushing, shoving, kicking, biting, anything to get close enough to toss their hopes into the spiraling, unusual wishing well.  It got so bad we had to post a security guard.

Sadly, when Bob, from building started the microwave (to warm his hollandaise sauce) and the toaster oven (to Benedict his eggs, if that is proper verb), he threw the breaker, and when he went to reset it, he accidentally shut off the power to the whole building.

The vortex shut down, without a sound.  All of the notes were gone, though, and occasionally someone will get a phone call, or email, from "the Other Side," just saying hello.