Economics 101

I own stock.  I own shares in several companies actually.  I have 7 shares in Wendy's, 7 shares in Tim Horton, and a lot more than that in Caterpillar.  However, I don't play the stock market and I didn't even buy those stocks for myself.  They were all gifts.  That's how my family rolls.

A couple of years ago I thought it would be a good idea to combine my assets by selling my Wendy's and Tim Horton stock and putting the money towards more Caterpillar stock.  This unfortunately is very difficult.  I would have to transfer the stock to another broker who could then make the exchange.  Way too much of a hassle for a common layperson like myself.

The point of this story is to look at the stock dividend situation.  As far as I can understand, stock dividends are a percentage of your stock that makes profit.  With Caterpillar and Tim Horton, I have it set up so that my dividends are automatically reinvested into more stock.  With Wendy's however, I get quarterly checks in the mail.

Sounds great right?  No.  With only 7 shares each, these dividends are approximately $0.14-$0.16 each.   I called Wendy's the other day and they do not have dividend reinvestment options.  That means I can't sell the stock and I can't reinvest the dividends.  I am stuck with quarterly checks so small that I have to go to the bank to cash them because the ATM won't accept them.

Realizing all this, I decided to do a quick study on cash-in/cash-out for amusement purposes.  Here goes:
Approximate dividend check - assume $0.15 every three months = $0.60 per year
Current cost of a tall vanilla mocha = $4.00
Cost of vanilla mocha 2-3 years ago = $3.82
Assume future cost of vanilla mocha at $4.20
$4.20 / $0.60 = 7
That means that with my dividend checks I can get one tall vanilla mocha in 7 years.

Now, let's look at the cost associated with these dividend checks:
Distance from my office to nearest BECU branch = 2.0 miles
At 30 miles per gallon, that equals 0.07 gallons of gas
Assuming $4.00 per gallon of gas, that comes out to $0.26 or approximately $0.50 round trip per dividend check.

The checks are good for six months so let's say I combine trips and only go twice a year.  That means a $1.00 per year cost for a $0.60 return.  Are you following me?

Therefore, it doesn't actually matter that I can get a coffee every seven years because it's costing me more money to cash the checks then they're even worth.

One might ask at this point, why bother?  Because if I didn't cash the checks, they would win.  I'm not entirely sure who "they" are, but I'm not giving them a tall vanilla mocha every seven years.

It's okay to be a chicken...

Norse mythology describes Thor as being the god of thunder and lightning.  Thor's tool/weapon was a hammer and when he used it, it caused the thunder and lightning.  Now I don't believe in Thor, but I do believe in God, and sometimes I wonder if He doesn't have a hammer of His own...

The other night I was enjoying a large bonfire at a friend's house after a long week of work.  It had been raining off and on all day despite the weather forecast calling for clear skies.  One person at the bonfire thought it was the same storm that was continuously circling the area.  This would not surprise me with the geography we have here.

Sure enough, after 20 minutes of enjoying the bonfire, a distant rumble of thunder was heard.  A friend exclaimed, "here it comes again...".  Nobody moved however, since a distant rumble is nothing to be fussed about.

The rumblings became more frequent however as time progressed.  Nobody even suggested the idea of retreating indoors though.  We're tough.  It's not that big of a deal.  Then we see the first flash.  That makes the thunder a lot more real.  At this point I'm remembering all of the things we had to do as kids when there was a thunderstorm.  My mother was a bit uptight about lightning safety and if we came home during a thunderstorm and parked in the garage, we were not allowed to get out of the vehicle because we'd have to step on the reinforced concrete garage floor that might conduct electricity should the garage be struck.

Needless to say, as the thunder draws nearer and no one is moving, I'm beginning to wonder if we're all just "tough" or really foolish.  My Dad used to say there's a fine line between tough and numb...

There's another flash of lightning and we all look around to see if anyone else is going to begin the migration indoors.  But nobody wants to be the first apparently.  Our fearless leader, Gertrude, looks around at the girls and proclaims that we're fine since no one's hair is standing on end.  This, strangely, does not comfort me.

Not two minutes later, God found His hammer.  A bright flash of light (at which point I start counting in my head until the thunder comes to see how far away the storm is), but I did not make it past 1.  CRRRAAACK! I thought the sky was split in two.  I realized then that we had all crossed the line from tough to numb.  I grabbed my stuff, said I didn't care if they all thought I was a chicken, but I was going inside and I scuttled towards the house as quick as I could with a couple other smart chickens right behind me.  No sooner had we set our stuff down in the living room that God found the water spigot and turned it on full.  I looked out at my "tough" friends as they stared hopelessly at the sky, becoming quickly drenched to the skin and realized that sometimes it's okay to be a chicken.

Early Risers

The coffee maker is trickling thanks to the early morning ministrations from Emily at an hour unspeakable to most people.  She’s already left for work, but Lorraine and the third housemate are just rising, shortly before 6am.  After letting the dog out Lorraine starts to pour herself some coffee when she hears the doorknob turning behind her.  She pauses mid pour and looks up into the window that reflects the unfolding scene.  She’s seen this occurrence innumerable times, but either out of fear or amusement, she cannot look away.

It’s dark outside so the window reflects the bedroom door slowly opening outwards.  It’s an old house and the door was put in backwards many decades ago.  The lock is on the outside which makes you wonder if it was intentional.  There’s a silhouette in the doorframe, darkness surrounding her.  One can almost imagine a bolt of lightening in the background.

The silhouette emerges into the harsh light coming from the kitchen and begins the slow shuffle to the bathroom door.  It is only six feet away but it might as well be a mile.  She stoops at the shoulders and her eyes are almost entirely shut.  Coordination is minimal so care must be taken in the long journey from bedroom to shower.

At this point Lorraine realizes that the shuffle has stopped short of the bathroom door and the stooping, squinting creature is staring at her.  Oh dear, she must have a question.  Lorraine turns around, coffee in hand, waiting for the pending discussion.

2 seconds, 5 seconds, 10 seconds pass.  Finally, the creature manages to croak out a question about the day’s schedule as it concerns Lorraine.  The question is not fully formed since mental coordination seems to be keeping pace with physical coordination.  Fortunately however, Lorraine can fill in the gaps and mercifully gives a one word answer.  At first it seems the creature is not satisfied with the answer as she continues to stand and stare through puffy eyelids.  Eventually it sinks in however and she gives an almost imperceptible nod and turns to finish the shuffle into the bathroom.

Irritated or amused, depending on the morning, Lorraine finishes pouring her coffee.  She knows that in less than 15 minutes her housemate will emerge from the bathroom a human being: alert, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed.  Reveling in this amazing transformation, she continues with her morning routine.

Early birds may get the worm, but early grasshoppers need a shower first.

Office Politics

Nobody likes office politics.  It usually involves whispering, dishonesty, and gossip.  There can be a humorous side though - even if you have to search for it.

Our office has a coffee machine and being the resourceful people that we are, a large stash of coffee mugs to go with it.  Similar to general seating at church, no coffee mugs are reserved to any one person, yet everyone has "their" coffee mug.  An unspoken system has developed therefore for coffee mug distribution.

Now I am not a coffee drinker and therefore fall very low on the coffee mug selection list.  When I want the occasional hot chocolate I have to choose from the leftover mugs - the rejects.  These are usually white and pink mugs with kittens on them.  I was fortunate however to discover a reject mug that I fell in love with - it's brown and squarish, but of a good size and simple.  It says Klein Tools on it.  As a former electrician, this was perfect.

Luckily for me, this mug had never been claimed by a coffee drinker and was always available for my occasional hot chocolate.  Until the newbie arrived...

There is nothing wrong with a newbie.  In fact, we could use some more of them with the workload we've got.  The newbie isn't even a coffee drinker so I was not concerned about any mug situation.  That is, until I saw his new pencil holder that he had chosen for his desk- none other than my brown Klein Tools reject coffee mug.

Needless to say, I was devastated.  How am I to explain to this nice newbie that he has taken my reject mug?  That unbeknownst to him, he has left me to sip from valentines day kitten porcelain?  Should I just take the mug and replace it with another one and hope he doesn't notice?  No, that would be awkward when he notices me drinking hot chocolate from it later in the day.  Should I approach him and try to explain myself?  No, then it might turn into real office politics and not just the humorous kind.  The only solution then is to find another reject mug and accept that my Klein Tools mug has left the mug distribution system.  It probably has a better life now that it is being loved and used every day and not just on the days of my hot chocolate whims.

Click n Clack

It all started several weeks ago with an ominous noise coming from the direction of my engine.  It started suddenly, but quietly.  I struggled for days to identify the noise in a way I could recreate it.  Imagine me humming, whirring, clapping, and clunking, but nothing seemed right.  Finally it came to me.  RRRRRRR.  Did you ever learn to roll your r’s in Spanish class?  Well that’s the noise.

Once I had successfully defined the noise I followed a friend’s advice to call the NPR Click ‘n Clack show to see if I could stump them.  I had to use my trusty assistant Emily however to make the car noise since I never learned the art of flapping my tongue in a dignified manner.  Despite what I’m sure was an entertaining voicemail audition, I unfortunately, although not surprisingly, did not get called back to be on the show.

Alas, I was left with taking it to a transmission shop.  After extensive, official, Google research, I settled on a little known shop in Monroe run by a man who has been building transmissions since before I was born.  After a free consult with the specialist, I was dutifully impressed and was willing to follow whatever advice he might lay before me.  I had spent weeks preparing myself for the worst – a potential blown transmission and upwards of $3000 in repairs.  What I was not prepared for however was the comment by the receptionist that she had priced a Mini Cooper automatic transmission a few weeks ago at over $6000.

At this point I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cry or drink.  Since I’m not an alcoholic and I didn’t have a ready supply of tissues, I realized I needed another option.  Red Robin cheeseburger with a chocolate shake would have to do.

The next morning, after thinking about the potential cost of a new transmission and if I needed to get in touch with an insurance agent about having my car totaled, I finally received a call from the receptionist at the transmission shop with the final numbers.  

Here’s how she broke it down:

$850 – Labor

$2,034 – New transmission

$84 – Transmission fluid

$284 – Clutch

Total: $3,252 + tax = $3,531.

All I have to say is that I have never been so happy to see a bill for $3500.

Jump Grasshopper Jump!

Like a grasshopper rubbing it's hands together (or is that a praying mantis?) I have been contemplating starting a blog for some time.  I have finally decided to jump in.

Grasshopper clippings are meant to be humorous.  Most will be relatively short stories, and like a grasshopper, will jump from one topic to another without a smidgen of transition.

They are meant to be clippings from my life with a humorous spin. This is for two reasons.  First, I need to practice writing.  If you couldn't tell already, I'm not very good at it.  Second, I think finding the humor in situations can lead to a much less stressful life, and doesn't everyone want a little less stress?

I cannot guarantee that these clippings will be funny to anyone besides myself.  I also cannot guarantee that they will be entirely truthful although I can assure you that they will all have a basis in truth since that's where the best stories come from. They will also be much better if you read them with an accent.  A Maine accent if you can.