Cell Phone Life

I have had a cell phone since ... oh, gosh ... my son was probably 5, and he's now 25, so I'd say 20 years or so.  My daughter has had a phone since she was in 6th grade, and she's now 22, so she's been a cell phone user for 10 years at least.  In our combined three decades of cell phone ownership, I have ruined one phone (cell phones do NOT like being dropped in toilets ... you're welcome for that bit of info LOL) and she has ruined one phone (they also don't like being dropped in parking lots).

Last month, Michelle and I both dropped and SHATTERED our phones, within one day of each other.  Yeah, we're cool like that.  :)

Our phones worked, but the screens were shattered -- and as they were both old cell phones, we decided to splurge and upgrade to the iPhones that everyone else has had for a year or more.

If I had a list of Things I Hate, dealing with the cell phone people would be top of that list.  And going to the Verizon Store is ... torture.  I tried to go online and see what our options were, but trying to understand our cell phone plan is nigh unto impossible.  We have upgrades, but we don't have upgrades, we don't have upgrades YET, we have an early upgrade ... on and on and on.

Last night, Michelle and I bit the bullet and went into the store (**shudder**) to see about replacing our shattered old iPhones with new, shiny iPhones.

**Shudder**

The 12 year old who was waiting on us told us we didn't have any available upgrades.  He said we could buy two phones straight out but that was our only option.  I said, "Oh, I don't like that choice, what else can you do for me?"  Mr. 12 Year Old said, "Umm, I can get a manager?"  I said, "That's great, thank you so very much!" and the manager came over.  He saw that we had been Verizon Customers for 20 years (dang, I'm old LOL) and I'll be honest, I have no idea what he did ... he called it a Manager's Override Option ... but somehow, we each got new iPhones as well as a HUMONGO bunch of accessories.  We paid the upgrade fee (even tho we had no upgrades??) and then they threw in a bonus package of accessories.  We each had an allotment of accessory funds we could spend (we had to spend it, or lose it, there was no crediting of our account) and all I had to pay was the upgrade fee.  Anyway, I'll be honest, I have no idea what he did or anything else, but he told me what my bottom line payment was, I said, "Sounds good" and they went off and did their Cell Phone Magic.

Michelle and I wandered around the Verizon Store, looking for Destruction Proof cases, looking at all the other accessories they had, wondering if we needed yet another BlueTooth speaker ... we settled on two cases (water proof, SUV-driving-over-it proof, scratch proof, dust proof and, oh so useful in Houston, snow proof).  We also got some cords, some other blingy-things and something that purports to be an external phone charger so that if you're not at home or near your car you can still charge your phone.

My husband, cutie that he is, when we got home and showed him our loot, saw the charger and said, "Oh, that'll be PERFECT to put in our hurricane box."  Isn't that cute, that he thinks we have a Hurricane Box?  Our "Hurricane Box" consists of two cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew of a questionable age, one flashlight, 8,000 batteries and several candles that have not survived the Houston summers.  But we also have a cell phone charger, so that's cool.  ;)

Just when Mr. 12 Year Old (who, as it turns out, is the same age as my daughter) was trying to complete the transaction, the whole system crashed.  **sigh**  He said, "Oh, it ought to come back in just a minute, do you mind to wait?" and of course we said, "Oh, no, that's OK, we'll wait."  That did give Mr. 12 Year Old a chance to hit on my daughter (Hey, if you like dancing, you ought to check out Such-And-Such Club.  My friends and I go there all the time ...) and then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.

They thought the system was coming back, but it wasn't.

So we waited.  And waited.  And waited.

We got there at 6:30 p.m.  It was now almost 8:30 and we STILL didn't have working phones.

Finally, the system came back on, and Mr. 12 Year Old said, "Oh, I think I can get you out of here by 9:00."  He did (hallelujah) and, THREE HOURS after we left home, we pulled back into our driveway.

But we have two new iPhones, a big bag of accessories and a three-hour bonding opportunity with my daughter.  I'll give her credit, she can make me laugh and keep me entertained even when we are bored out of our brains, waiting on the system to reboot.

So this weekend, I'm going to be playing with my new phone, seeing what's different between it and the old one, and doing my best to make my NEW phone as similar to my OLD phone as possible (because I'm old and I don't do change well).  And maybe I'll download some Pooh bling for the new phone.  You know, to make it *mine*.  :)

How I'm dealing with social media

When GameBoys first came out, my son was about 5.  He wanted a GameBoy worst than just about anything.  We didn't buy him one and he was heart-broken.  All he wanted was a GameBoy.  One day, we went to visit a friend of the family ... the mom was a friend of mine and they had a boy about the same age as my son.  When we got there, the son was eager to show my son his new GameBoy he had just gotten from his daddy.  The boys ran off to play, and the mom started talking to me ... her husband had always been emotionally, verbally and sexually abusive, but this time, it went further than it ever had, and he pushed her down the stairs and then, as she lay at the bottom of the stairs, he threw a lamp at her head.  Their son saw it all.  Dad then told the boy, "If you tell everyone that Mommy fell all by herself, I'll buy you a GameBoy."  The boy agreed and now mom had a sprained shoulder, a mild concussion and the son had a GameBoy.

The whole car ride home, my son kept saying, "I wish I had a GameBoy"  "So-and-So is so lucky that HE has a GameBoy"  "I wish I had a GameBoy"  "I wish I could be like So-and-So" and all I could think was, "Oh, no, son, if you KNEW the back-story behind that GameBoy, you'd not want one.  You ought to be grateful you don't have the GameBoy" ... but since my son didn't see the big picture, didn't know the whole story, he was basing his response on what he perceived to be the truth.

That story has become code in our family ... when we see someone *seemingly* getting something wonderful, and jealous and envy starts to rear its ugly head, one of us will say, "You don't know; maybe that's their GameBoy" ... and it helps us to remember that what we see on the surface isn't necessarily the whole story.

Social media has often been that way; people posting all about their wonderful new cars, their beautiful new houses, their amazing shopping trips, their breathtaking vacations, their overachieving children ... the list goes on and on.  I've been able to remind myself that this may be their GameBoy and that unless I know the whole picture, I have no right to judge or feel envy or anything else.  I need to celebrate their (shared) happiness and be grateful that they have these moments they can enjoy.

For the most part, that has worked well for me.  I love my house, I love my family, I have a car to drive, food to eat, clothes to wear, I have a job to go to and I have a little money in the bank.  We are able to get away every so often and we have friends and family who make us feel loved and included.  All in all, it's a good life and I'm content.  I will admit there are times I see things on Facebook that make me want to whine and say, "But that's not FAIR, I want a (fill in the blank), too!" but those moments are, blessedly, rare and short-lived.

Lately, tho, I've seen such an ugly side of social media.  Where it used to be a chance for old friends to reconnect, for geographically-distant relatives to share pictures of children, for old classmates to touch base, it's now become a place for people to spew ugliness and hatred and anger.  It's become a place of discordance and strife and small-mindedness.  I see no compassion, no love, no tenderness, no attempt at understanding ... just anonymous people sitting behind the relative safety of their computer screens, spewing vile and venom.

When a horrific event happens, rather than people saying, "I'm so sorry, my prayers (or good thoughts) are with the grief-stricken parents", people tend to get all judgmental and sanctimonious ... "My child would NEVER ..." or "I, as a parent, would NEVER ..."

It's not just judgmental parenting comments.  Politics and social issues have always been contentious, but like my beloved Husband says, "There is no civil discourse any more".  Rather than discuss IDEAS, people just post angry memes making fun of those who disagree with them.  How does name-calling or belittling someone lead to a true discussion of ideas?  If I believe A, and you believe B, and I want you to come to my way of thinking, I need to be able to explain A to you in a lucid and coherent way as well as I need to be able to understand why you believe B.  We need to find common ground and then I need to, lovingly and kindly, explain my beliefs as to why A is correct.  Ah, but that's too hard.  I think I'll just post an angry meme making fun of B-Thinkers.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I had enough.  I needed to detox.  I didn't do a big "I'm leaving Facebook ... " post because those (in my humble opinion) are nothing more than people trolling for attention ... "Oh Sandra, you're so wonderful, we love you so much, please don't leave Facebook" ... yeah, no, I'm not about that.  And I didn't leave Facebook, I just backed off.  Considerably.  I still posted ... I posted about how my Beloved Husband got flocked for Father's Day (which is a post for another time!) but instead of, every time I logged on, going to Facebook and getting upset, I deliberately and intentionally stayed away.

And you know what?  I felt better.  I felt more content, I felt less agitated and angry.  I still watched the news, I still read the paper, I still got my "breaking news updates"; I went to other websites and message boards where I have friends (good friends, sisters-of-my-heart friends) and I texted and emailed my heart out LOL, but I stayed off the cesspool of anger and vitriol that has become my Facebook feed.

And it was good.

I wish Facebook was what it was years ago, when I started, but it's not.  And I can't change it, but I can limit my exposure to it.  I have learned that I need to surround myself with good, positive thoughts and people and things (Phillipians 4:8)  and I need to be aware of the negativity that creeps into my day and I need to root that out where I can.

And when I see people being hateful and bitter and judgmental and lacking compassion and empathy -- I just need to remember that this may be their GameBoy and unless I know the whole story, I need to show THEM grace and mercy and try to understand why they are approaching the world from a place of judgment and condemnation and anger.

And post more pictures of Pooh Bear to offset their hostility.  :)

I'm back ...

So, I've not written anything on my blog for a long time.  Like well over a year.  I started this a while ago, just to have somewhere to jot down my ramblings and my musings ... and I liked it ... it was a good creative outlet for me.  I even got some good feedback ... then I met a "real" blogger, who had a "real" blog (and she had *followers* and she has an *audience* and sponsors ... people PAY her to blog!!) and I thought, "Well, how dare I even think that I, too, am a blogger".

Then someone else I know had a book published ... a real, actual book ... with a title and pages and words and a publisher and everything; you can go on Amazon and actually BUY her book. And I thought, "Well, how dare I think that I, too, am a writer".

Then another friend who has a blog was asked to write a recurring column in her local newspaper; the editor had seen her blog and liked what she had to say, and I thought, "Well, how dare I even think that I, too, have anything to say" ... and I just stopped.  I would write blog posts in my mind, but didn't actually publish them because -- well, because.

Anyway, it's been way over a year and I miss it.  I miss having somewhere to record my musings and my thoughts.  So, I'm writing again.

This morning, I was feeling overwhelmed.  You know that point where you think you just can't handle ONE MORE THING?  I'm there.  I'm at the point where I don't want to walk to the mailbox, or answer the phone or check my email because I can't take ONE MORE THING.

Both of our children have faced serious health issues these past few months; they both seem to be doing OK, praise God, but it's been worrisome (to say the least) waiting for test results and for medicines to work.

Hubby and I have made some financial decisions which, in the long term, eventually, will be a HUGE benefit and will have lasting positive outcomes, but in the short-term, these financial decisions have had a major and significant impact in our budgeting.

We have faced some lifestyle changes ... grown children moving back home, moving in, moving out; job changes, my going from part-time to full-time employment ...

I'm just ... overwhelmed.  I just don't think I can take one single more thing.  And what doesn't help is when people say, "Oh, it could be worse ..." and then they regale me with tales of their cousin / their neighbor / their sister's best friend and what they're dealing with.  Yeah, well just because someone ELSE may be going thru something worse doesn't mean what I'm going through isn't bad.  Now I just feel overwhelmed *and* guilty.  Thanks.  <eye roll>

I pray every morning.  Every morning, as I drink my coffee, I chat with God.  To be honest, more often than not, my prayer time is me telling God everything that's wrong in my life and then wrapping up with, "And thank you for the blessings you've given me ..." but deep down, I'm still thinking about the problems I've (not) laid at His feet.  I'm still carrying them, worrying about them, trying to 'fix' them.  This morning, tho, I really felt the urge to actually get on my knees before Him.  Literally on my knees.  Now, at my age, with my joint problems, at my weight, literally getting on my knees is a big deal.  Still --

So I did.  I turned off the TV, put my iPad and iPhone on silent, got down on my knees (ouch) and laid my head on the couch.  (I'm grateful He didn't ask me to fully prostrate myself ... that wouldn't have been pretty LOL).  And then I was silent.  I didn't complain; I didn't list my problems; I didn't ask Him to solve this or that; I didn't ask Him to take away a burden; I didn't tell Him what I needed Him to do ... I just was silent.

It want to say I was flooded with a spirit of peace and a sense of serenity, but I wasn't.  I want to say I heard the voice of God telling me words of comfort and love, but I didn't.  I want to say when it was over, I checked my phone and both of my children had texted me telling me that everything was fine, and that my husband texted me telling me that all our financial woes had been solved, but that didn't happen.

But my focus had changed.  Rather than spending 10 minutes listing every single burden and problem and grief and worry in my life, I spent 10 minutes just being still.  Being silent.  Being quiet.  Being calm.

That was nice.

And when it was all over, when the 10 minutes had passed and I got up from my knees (ouch), I still had no definite answers on my worries, and the problems I face are still there.

So, what was the point?  The point was, I felt like God was asking me to start blogging again; to start journalling my thoughts and my ideas.  My petty, insignificant musings.  I think this is an outlet that's good for me, for my soul, for my well-being -- and it has NOTHING to do with how successful other people are in their blogging / writing adventures, nor does it have ANYTHING to do with who reads it, or responds or anything else.  It's therapeutic for ME and therefore, it has worth and merit.

So, I'm back ...

Is it just me?

Yesterday, we were driving and we saw a car pull out of the gas station.  The gas cap was off their tank, and the cap was dangling loose.  It was raining, and Hubby and I knew that if water got into his tank, he'd have major issues so at the red light, he honked the horn and I motioned for the driver to roll down his window.  The driver looked at me like I was nuts.  I kept motioning for him to roll down his window and finally, with great hesitation, he did.  I said, "Your gas cap is off!" and you could see the relief wash over him.  "Oh, thank you!" he said.  I rolled up the window and we laughed ... he obviously thought I was a psycho and he truly debated if he should roll down his window or not.  We smugly made fun of him for being so cynical and paranoid, because of course, we would never behave the same way.

Except ...

The week before, we were in Kansas visiting our son and his wife.  We had pulled into a gas station and Hubby was pumping gas.  A car pulled up next to him and the driver rolled his window down and said something to Hubby.  I immediately grabbed my phone (to call 911, I suppose) and I rolled my window down to hear what was being said.  The driver pointed to the front of my car (which was sporting a red, Rudolph nose) and laughingly said, "Did you hit Rudolph?" My husband said, "Yeah, I guess I did" and the two exchanged a laugh and the other guy drove away.  When he got back in the car, I said, "What was THAT all about?" and he gave me a quizzical look ... "Just some guy being friendly."

"But what did he WANT?"

"Nothing.  He was just being friendly."

Really?  Just making idle chit-chat at a gas station about a Rudolph nose?  And that's not strange to anyone?

My cynicism has long roots, tho.  Several years ago, we were in Kentucky looking for the small cemetery in which his maternal grandparents were buried.  It's a fairly small cemetery up in the hills of rural Kentucky.  GPS was of no use and Siri couldn't even find our location, much less the location of a cemetery whose name we weren't sure of.  We drove around the area he thought it was, but we had no luck finding the church or the cemetery.  We finally came across a small country store, so he went in and asked the owner if they knew where Such-and-Such Cemetery was.  The owner said he hadn't heard of it, but a customer in the store, a kid who looked like he was still in high school, said "Oh, I know where that is.  You'll never find it on your own; follow me, tho, and I'll take you there."  Hubby said, "Great, thanks" and off we went.  I kept saying, "Wait.  Wait.  We're following a COMPLETE AND TOTAL STRANGER off into the hills of Kentucky, no one knows where we are, we can't even get a cell signal, we don't know this kid from Adam, yet we are going to follow him down some sketchy, iffy country roads to an unknown destination?  Wait, wait ... this is OK with you?"

Apparently that's how folks are back in SmallTown Kentucky, because yes, Hubby was fine with the idea of following a COMPLETE AND TOTAL STRANGER off into the hills of rural Kentucky.

And guess what?  The kid took us right to the cemetery (which we would, indeed, have NEVER found on our own).  He stopped, said his grandma was buried here, that's why he knew the location, he paid his respects to his grandma, asked us if we needed him to lead us back to the main road (we said "no, but thank you") and he went on his way.

Yeah, a nice young kid doing a nice deed for some strangers.  He even stopped and paid his respects to his grandma.

I felt so jaded, so cynical ... so ugly.

Yet, a few years later, when a stranger at a gas station in Kansas made idle chit-chat, I assumed the worst and grabbed for my cell phone.

And when I tried to do a good deed by telling a stranger his gas cap was off, he assumed the worst about me.

I hate to think we, as a society, are so jaded and cynical and bitter that we automatically assume the worst about our fellow man, and I still think that following a complete and total stranger into the hills of rural Kentucky was a questionable decision, but I can't see where being asked to roll down your car window should have been that fear-inducing.  I'm not that terrifying, I promise.  

I wonder if Gas-Cap Guy would have followed Random Stranger to that cemetery.  Probably not.  Then again, I can't believe we did!  

New Year's Day

(no title)

Ah, January 1st ... so shiny, so new, so full of promise and hope!  How many people woke up today and thought, "This is it!  This is the year I'm going to (fill in the blank ...)"  For me, that blank seems to remain stubbornly the same year after year after year.  I'm still going to lose weight, exercise more, be more loving and kind to my familly, be more generous and giving to my friends, take care of my health, get my finances in order, clean that closet, organize my kitchen, pray every day, take every Bible Study my church offers, journal daily ... etc.

And by February (and that's being generous!) I've broken every single one of those "resolutions".  

Tough way to face a new year, by being a failure and a quitter when you're only 1/12th of the way into the year.

Many, many years ago, I quit making New Year's Resolutions.  I felt pretty self-righteous about that; now I can't fail because I've set no goals.  But my mind still wanders to "But it's a new year and ..." 

This past week, I've been giving a lot of thought to two big burdens on my heart; one is personal and one is for loved ones.  Both are situations that I, in my mere mortalness, cannot "fix".  The personal one, my husband and I have spent at least 5 years trying to "fix" and, to be honest, we are no closer to the solution than we were 5 years ago.  The other situation is between members of my extended family; there is NOTHING I can say or do to "fix" it, they need to -- on their own -- come to see the need for change.  

Both of these situations are weighing heavily on my heart and on my soul and both are situations that I cannot do anything about.  It's not a case of willpower or motivation or desire on my part.  I want ... NEED ... these two situations to be resolved.  

So my "resolution" for 2015 is to be deliberate and intentional and specific in my prayer life for these two requests.  

I'll be honest; I've not really prayed about either situation.  The personal one, I feel like we got ourselves INTO this situation and we need to get ourselves OUT of this situation (I know, I know ... feel free to roll your eyes, I've rolled my own at myself enough times) and the family situation, I've not really prayed about because I sort of have picked sides myself and I find myself getting angry with the party I see as "in the wrong".  

I'm not really sure how to even pray about these two situations; but I also know I can't "fix" either on my own.  

So that's my goal for 2015:  to be deliberate and intentional and specific in my prayer life this year concerning these two situations.  I don't know how God will answer, but I trust He will.  I also hope I have my heart open enough that I can hear Him when He answers.  

August ... not my best month

I'm a slow learner.  I'm also rather stubborn and tend to think I can do things all by myself.  That's a bad combination.  Several months ago, an opportunity came up that I thought was perfect for me (it wasn't).  I thought it would be the answer to prayer (it wasn't).  I thought it was clearly what God intended for me (it wasn't).  I prayed about it, in that know-it-all way that I have:  God, this is what I want, this is how I want to You make it happen, and if You could do that in the next two weeks or so, that would be great.

I was 100% confident that it was going to happen, and in the time frame I decreed, and in the way I determined.  I told my husband, with 100% assurance, that it was a done-deal.

It wasn't.

I was genuinely shocked when things didn't work out as I had anticipated.  I mean, I *planned* on it. I told my husband.  I mentally had congratulated myself on handling things so very well.  I said (to my husband) all the right things:  "Well, God knows this wasn't what His plans for me are, and we have to trust that He has something better around the corner", but deep down, I don't think I fully believed that.  I really didn't.  I was ticked.  I wanted this and I was miffed that it didn't happen.

I sulked.  I do that well.  My prayer life dissolved into rote and routine, with not much sincerity behind what I was saying.  Even as I watched my "ideal" solution spiral out of control and I came to realize that I truly dodged a bullet, I still sulked.  (Mature of me, right?)  I sulked, because if God really had something better for me, where WAS it?  I was tapping my foot, impatiently, waiting for Him to show me what He had in mind.

Then August came.  August has historically been a bad month for us, financially.  Not only are there back to school expenses -- college tuition these days! -- but we have a couple of family birthdays; and for the past too numerous to count years, August has meant that a major appliance will die, or the car will require expensive repairs.  By the time my birthday rolled around in the waning days of August, we were usually emotionally and financially spent.  My birthday gift for years has been a new transmission, or a new air conditioner, or a new stove.  This year was going to be different!!  It is my 50th birthday, and we were going to spend a long weekend celebrating.  I've been planning it for months.

Then August happened.  It's less than a week into August, and we've already had two significant financial hits.  I'm looking at our "Sandra's Birthday Bash" budget and thinking it would be fiscally irresponsible of us to NOT use that money for the more urgent needs.

So I sulked.  I do that well.  It's not productive, and it's not mature but it's what I know to do, and I do it well.

This morning, in my prayer time (which is more "Sandra sulks and whines and tells God what's wrong with her life, and He stays silent and lets her rant and rave") I was fussing at God -- where's my "something better just around the corner?"  Where is my "when we get to this phase in our life, things will be easier" break?  Where is my "but I deserve / want / desire (fill in the blank)" that I somehow feel entitled to?

I opened my Bible, and it opened to Isaiah.  My eye fell to Isaiah 55:8

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD.

Really, God?  You couldn't have thrown out a few of those prosperity doctrines that are so popular these days among "feel good" preachers, who tell their flocks just what they want to hear?  

Then I opened a daily devotional in my email.

It was on Isaiah 55:8.

I was not amused.  

I did NOT want God to tell me to chill out, relax and trust in Him, that He had this all in control.  I wanted to know exactly HOW (and when) He was going to work it out, and if He was going to be silent on the details, then I wanted Him to reassure me that the piddly plans I had in my mind were, indeed, the right plans.

No.

He just kept reminding me that His ways aren't my ways, and His plans aren't my plans.

"Trust and obey; trust and obey ..."

OK, God, I'm listening.  I hear you.

(UPDATE IN THE INTEREST OF FULL DISCLOSURE)

I wrote this on Monday.  I thought, "I'll wait a few days to publish, then I'll have an *awesome* ending, of  "And then BOOM, God did this-and-that and voila!"

(Yeah, me again, telling God how to work and what to do, and when to do it).

Not only did that NOT happen, we had another financial hit last night which leaves Sandra's Birthday Bash Budget down to, if we're lucky and find a BOGO coupon, dinner at Olive Garden.

I'm waiting for Him to act, I'm expecting Him to move, I'm anticipating Him working everything out, but I'm also horrible about trusting and being secure and calm.  I want Him to answer me, TODAY RIGHT NOW and let me know what next month is going to bring.  What is next year going to look like?  What / when / how are events going to unfold?

Silence.

Nothing.

Except for  Isaiah 55:8.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD.

Fairness, Equity ... and eBay

My husband gets a lot of sympathy (from others LOL) for putting up with my Pooh addiction. What all of his fan club supporters don't realize is he, too, has ... interests.  He is a self-professed Constitutional scholar and he has a fascination with all things Presidential and Constitutional.

Yes, I have a Pooh mug (or two), but guess what HE has?

 

And I may have Pooh shirts (and slippers, and bags, and wallets ...) but he isn't innocent. He has a shirt, a tie. 

Yes, I have a Pooh curio cabinet, but guess what's on one of the shelves

And my Pooh artwork is offset by his Presidential artwork.

Further, his Presidential Pez Dispenser collection 

actually surpasses my Pooh Pez collection.

(Can we pause for a moment and just reflect upon the fact that there is, indeed, a Presidential Pez collection, and that we actually own all the ones released to date?)

And I have a Pooh book or two, but ...

(And this is but a small representation of the Presidential / Founding Fathers books he has). 

He also has a framed copy of the Constitution on the wall of his study, 

as well as a Pocket Constitution he carries with him. I'd take a picture of it, but he's got it with him, in his briefcase, because you never know when you'll need to whip out the Constitution.  

Of course, he has the Pocket Constitution app on his phone ... and his homepage on his iPad? SCOTUS Blog. And the background on his phone? The Constitution.

And the Beanie Babies ...

So, for everyone who thinks, "Oh, poor Larry ...", it's not as inequitable as you might think.

Anyway, as part of his Bucket List, we are going to tour all the Presidential Libraries / Museums. We have a Presidential Passport which we dutifully get stamped at each location, but that's not enough of a souvenir.

We also get a Presidential Bobblehead from each location we visit.

(And again, can we pause for a moment and just reflect upon the fact that there are, indeed, Presidential Bobbleheads?)

So far, we have Bush 41

Bush 43

Eisenhower

and Truman

He has also visited Carter's library, but that was a) without me and b) before he knew about Presidential Bobbleheads, so we will have to go back, together, and get Mr Carter's Bobblehead.

Last weekend, we went to LBJ's library / museum. We stopped in the gift shop but (horrors!) they didn't have any LBJ Bobbleheads. They told us the manufacturer didn't produce an LBJ Bobblehead. I got home and emailed the manufacturer, only to be told:

At this time, regrettably, we do not have an LBJ bobblehead.  He is probably going to be next on the list for production.  However, that will not happen in 2014.  Possibly next year.  I will keep your message on file in my LBJ folder, and will follow back up with you once we have a prototype available for this item.  

(She has an LBJ folder??)

Anyway, I wasn't going to let that stop my Bobblehead quest -- my husband wants an LBJ Bobblehead, and an LBJ Bobblehead he'll have.

I went on eBay. I have never in my life gone on eBay. I signed up, searched for LBJ Bobblehead and, surprisingly, found one!  It's vintage (from 1964 -- same year I was born -- so now I'm vintage??) and was intended to be mounted on a dashboard. 

I placed a bid.

Seller rejected my bid and blocked me. 

Seriously??  My first time EVER on eBay and I've committed such a faux-pas that my bid was rejected and I was blocked??

I emailed the seller who told me he didn't accept bids from new eBay bidders as they "never" follow through with payment. 

My initial instinct was to tell him where to go and how to get there, but -- surprisingly LOL -- there weren't a lot of other LBJ Bobbleheads on which I could bid.

I swallowed my pride, assured Paranoid Seller that, yes I am new to eBay but I am a legitimate bidder and I'd welcome the opportunity to bid.

He unblocked me, I re-bid ... and I won!  I immediately paid, and he sent me a nice note of apology.

He shipped the 1964 Vintage Car-Mounted LBJ Bobblehead and it arrived today.

My Beloved is thrilled, the collection is intact, plans are being made for our next Presidential trip, and I'm no longer an eBay virgin.

And guess what?  eBay has a TON of Pooh stuff. 

I'd call this a win-win.