August 23 '03
Volume 377
A Lesser Evil Swapping Company Cars
In the morning
of June 25, 2003, I traded one problem for another one, but it
was a case of the lesser of two evils. In the world of SUPERVALU, those of
us who are privileged to drive a company car in our work are truly thankful.
We don’t have to worry about insurance or monthly car payments, and
expenses for routine services or repairs are reimbursable. Gas for personal
use is also reimbursed. Basically, with but a few exceptions, we're allowed
to use the car as if it were our own.
A company car is a great benefit that someone stated, as many as twenty-five
years ago, was worth $10,000 per year of income. I have no way of knowing
the validity of the claim, but if it was true then, the value of a company
car to an employee is considerably larger today.
For the past three years, I've driven a 2000 Ford Taurus. Of the company
cars that I've driven, the Taurus has not been my favorite, but it always
looked great when it was clean, and I tried to keep it clean. SUPERVALU is
not unlike most major corporations in that expense control is a high priority.
Thus, when the folks who budget for capital expenditures a couple of years
ago considered the company would be downsizing, it was assumed that cars
assigned to persons being "downsized" would make suitable replacements for
those of us whose automobiles were due for replacement during the next fiscal
year.
As a driver of a company car, I am required to report when the mileage of
my assigned auto reaches 115,000 miles. I informed the appropriate persons
of the mileage in 2002 but never got a response or notification to choose
my color options for a new car. Midway through the fiscal year, I learned
that no funds had been allocated for new cars in the Southeast Region, but
I was not informed that used units were available. Though to be honest, I
wasn't interested in a used car, especially if I did not know it's former
driver.
When our new fiscal year began in February of this year, I passed along my
need for a replacement unit to the appropriate persons, again. After sending
several more notices, I received a response that new cars were out of the
question, but that I could select from the pool of house cars kept in Indianola.
With more than 150,000 miles on the Taurus, I was concerned about potential
breakdowns, and the prospects of me experiencing car trouble hundreds of
miles away from home didn't bode well with my wife. The Taurus needed new
tires, a front-end alignment, and a few other minor adjustments which I figured
would cost less than $1,000.00 but I was told the company wasn't interested
in repairing my unit when there were other units available to me.
My main problem with selecting another unit revolved around the fact my
selections were limited to models older than the 2000 Taurus. Other concerns
included there were no black cars available, and all of the selections had
been driven by persons who smoked. So, I continued to drive the Taurus during
the months of March, April, and May.
In June, with the onset of summer approaching, the idea of a breakdown in
hot weather finally convinced me to swallow my pride and choose another car
from those available in Indianola. The morning I was scheduled to swap
automobiles, the Taurus sat in my garage over a puddle of bright red transmission
fluid that had leaked out overnight. After having my local mechanic check
the fluid levels and pronounce it safe to drive, I set a course toward Indianola
and arrived there without incident.
At the time of the swap, the odometer of the Taurus registered just under
172,000 miles. The 1999 Chevrolet Lumina I selected had approximately 104,000
miles on it, but the overall mechanical condition of the Lumina was superior
to that of the Taurus. I don't know the official color of the Lumina, but
it's something between tan and gold.
A number of folks have asked me how I like the Lumina as opposed to the Taurus.
I probably haven't given any two persons the same answer, but generally speaking,
I like it, though it seems to lag behind the Taurus when passing other
automobiles at speeds of sixty miles per hour or more. It took me a full
two weeks of experimentation to hit upon the proper seat and seat cushion
adjustments to find one that didn't cause my back to hurt. My biggest gripe
is that it doesn't look as good in my driveway as the Taurus did, and the
magnetic American Flag decal doesn't stand out nearly as nicely as it did
on the Taurus. Otherwise, the Lumina suits me okay.
I am hopeful that as SUPERVALU soon begins budgeting capital expenditures
for the next fiscal year, there will be a line item for new automobiles to
replace the aging ones in the field today.
Blonde
Moments Family Matters
Persons who have a modest familiarity with this newsletter have read numerous
jokes concerning blondes in Bodock Beau's space. The phrase, "blonde moment"
acknowledges that someone has found himself or herself inadvertently role-playing
the stereotypical dumb blonde. Most persons, including this writer, have
experienced such moments. That which follows in this article are blonde moments
of members of my family.
Among the wedding gifts Kathy and Brett Brown received was a practical and
sentimental one given by my daughter, Rayanne Adams. Rayanne prepared a gift
basket that included a cookbook consisting of several of the recipes of Brett's
grandmother, Frances Carter. Rayanne also tossed in a container of pre-measured
dry ingredients for Grandma Carter's teacake cookies, but included no specific
instructions other than the teacake recipe.
Brett is my nephew, the son of Jerry Brown and my sister Sara Sue. Brett
is a graduate of the Math and Science School of Mississippi and holds a
bachelor's degree in English and Computer Science from the University of
Mississippi. He's bright and learned but presently struggling to find employment
in the Jackson, MS area. Kathy is employed; otherwise, the newlyweds would
be eligible for food stamps.
It takes time and money for most new couples to establish a full pantry and
complement of assorted spices needed by the average household. One day when
the cupboard was bear, Brett spied the cookie mix and set about to quiet
his internally produced growls of hunger. After locating the recipe for the
teacakes, he concluded most of the dry ingredients must surely be inside
the package Rayanne had prepared, and as he studied the recipe, he noted
that a teaspoon of soda was required.
Having mixed all the other ingredients with the dry mixture he reasoned it
was time to add the soda. Now, most of us know that "soda" is short for "baking
soda." However, Brett, who's never called a soft drink a soda in his life
but knows that in certain parts of the country folks use soda to refer to
carbonated beverages, carefully measured out a teaspoon of Coca Cola and
dashed it in the mixture.
He claims the color may have been slightly affected by his "blonde moment,"
but the cookies tasted fine.
Blond Moment Moral: In the South, Coke is king.
My family has enjoyed recounting Brett's "blonde moment," but Brett's sister,
Felicia, may have truly outdone him with her own "blonde moment."
Felicia and a few friends were in the process of hosting a baby shower for
a girlfriend. Felicia has learned to cook a number of different foods over
the past year while attending Ole Miss but living off-campus with two other
roommates. However, party food is not her specialty, so Felicia was asked
to mix up the lemonade.
"I was expecting something like Country Time Lemonade Mix, " Felicia explained
recently, "but she (another host) handed me a can of frozen concentrate.
I'd never used any kind of frozen concentrate, but I figured I could follow
the instructions printed on the can."
About the only thing harder than mixing a beverage from a frozen concentrate
is boiling water, but the devil is in the details, as Felicia would soon
discover.
"Mix 4 1/3 cans of water with concentrate and stir," she
read.
"That's an odd way to say it," she thought, pausing long enough to calculate
that 4 thirds is the same as 1 and 1/3.
Thus she measured 1 and 1/3 cans of water and added it to the
concentrate.
"This sure doesn't look like its going to be enough," Felicia shared with
her friend.
"Mix up the second can," was her friend's response.
Felicia repeated the mixing process, carefully measuring 1 and 1/3 cans of
water and adding it to the concentrate.
"Time for a taste test," Felicia thought.
"Whoa, that's stout," she exclaimed.
"Maybe it needs more sugar" suggested her friend.
It took a bit of experimenting over the next several minutes to arrive at
a palatable, drinkable solution, and it was several minutes after guests
were arriving that Felicia determined that the 4 1/3 cans listed on the
instructions were actually four and one-third cans and not one and one-third
cans.
Blonde Moment Moral: If the instructions sound stupid, it's probably
not the fault of the instructions.
Joe's Summer
One To Remember
While I was packing (read: frantically throwing clothes into a duffel bag)
on my last night in Pontotoc, Wayne knocked on my door and said to me, "Now
Joe, I EXPECT a little write-up reflection of your time here in Pontotoc
for an upcoming Ridge
Rider. Not long, but about five to six hundred words. And soon."
I smiled and nodded, realizing that was the nicest "request" for a publishable
article I have ever received in five years of limited journalism. But 500
words is nothing. Really nothing. And it is really nothing given the topic
of reflecting on one of the best summers I can
remember.
All I can say is that I truly loved my time in Pontotoc. From schlepping
groceries at the Pig [Piggly Wiggly supermarket] to setting Wayne’s
catfish on fire, I had a blast. The Carters welcomed me into their home,
and took my eccentricities – like reading Harry Potter every waking
minute for a week and going to revivals and rodeos – in stride. I really
felt like a part of the family from the first day, and I am continually indebted
to them for their hospitality. And those first couple days’ experience
really sums up my entire stay in Pontotoc and my new feelings toward the
South.
After driving for 12 hours from Wichita, my hometown in Kansas, I arrived
at the Chevron on the bypass and called Barbara to get directions to her
house. Instead, she says "I’ll just pop down and you can follow me,
that’ll be easier."
"Oh-oh-oh-kay, I’ll be the guy standing around looking lost," I stammered,
more in shock because it sounded like a war zone in the background on her
end, than the sweet, serene, Scarlet O’Hara-esque Southern house I had
imagined.
Barbara led me to her house, and I was not far off in my war-zone analogy.
Her daughter Rayanne and granddaughters Merilese and Katherine were creating
a whirlwind that caused me to snap out of the introverted, reflective reverie
of the drive.
We sat down to the first of many burger-based meals, as I tried to focus
on one spot, follow the string of conversation, and try to figure out who
it was I was sitting next to, much less who was across from me. Pretty soon
I determined her name was Sarah Sue, or Sadie, or Sarah, but I could not
for the life of me follow her conversation (this was definitive of my stay
at the Carters, mostly because I had no idea who she was talking about).
But I just kept quiet and went along. The one across from me was either Merilese
or Katherine. Definitely not Jason, Barbara, or Wayne. I knew that
much.
The next day we went to [First Baptist] church, where I was once again welcomed
and greeted like a long-lost cousin by everyone, a new feeling for a
Presbyterian. Afterward, I went to Sunday dinner in Water Valley [MS] at
Ken and Glenda Corley’s with Bro. Joe Steen, once again a new experience
for a Presbyterian – driving for half an hour with a Catholic mendicant
brother to eat dinner at the Methodist preacher’s house.
And boy did we eat. I think I ate more in Pontotoc in those six weeks than
I have in a semester in the cafeteria at school. But the food was better,
so that might swing it.
But that first weekend really defines my time in Pontotoc, as everyone I
met was hospitable, and no matter where I went I felt welcome. Strangers,
friends, it didn’t matter. Southerners are nice, no matter what everyone
else might say.
People waved while driving – in town. People held the door open,
smiled, said thank you for little stuff. Working at the Pig was the most
fun I’ve ever had as a member of a payroll—even if none of my friends
believe that I worked there. I will always treasure my time in Pontotoc,
and I want to thank Wayne and Barbara for putting up with
me.
And I confess it was me who inadvertently set those catfish on fire
at the fish fry. Now that I’m 800 miles away, I can come clean and sleep
easy.
Note: Joe Millham authored this article, and his presence in our home for
six weeks this summer was a delight that we will cherish.
Bodock Beau
Brain Cramps
Persons in the entertainment industry, sports, politics, the military, as
well business are subject to brain cramps the same as the rest of us. The
following came our way courtesy of Ken Gaillard of Albuquerque,
NM:
Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?
Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever,
because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever,
but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever." Miss
Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.
"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world,
I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with
all those flies and death and stuff." Mariah Carey
"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your
life." Brooke Shields, during an interview to become spokesperson for a Federal
anti-smoking campaign.
"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body." Winston
Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.
"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in
the country" Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC.
"I'm not going to have some reporters pawing through our papers. We are the
president." Hillary Clinton commenting on the release of subpoenaed documents.
"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and
I'm just the one to do it," A congressional candidate in Texas.
"Half this game is ninety percent mental." Philadelphia Phillies manager,
Danny Ozark
"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in
our air and water that are doing it." Al Gore, Vice President
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix." Dan Quayle
" It's no exaggeration to say that the undecideds could go one way or another."
George Bush, US President
"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?" Lee
Iacocca
"I was provided with additional input that was radically different from the
truth. I assisted in furthering that version." Colonel Oliver North, from
his Iran-Contra testimony.
"The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman
Einstein." Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback & sports analyst.
"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain types of people."
Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instructor.
We are ready for an unforeseen event that may or may not occur." --Al Gore,
VP
"Traditionally, most of Australia's imports come from overseas." --Keppel
Enderbery
"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure." Bill Clinton, President
"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received
notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there
is a change in your circumstances." Department of Social Services, Greenville,
South Carolina
"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they
go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next
morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record." Mark S. Fowler, FCC
Chairman
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