Pasco Tree and Crane Service - A Thumbs Down Review

They Fooled Me Once. Don't Let Them Fool You

Having just moved into a house, we've had to seek the service of various local companies - a plumber, a sprinkler service, a lawn and landscaping service, a concrete contractor, and, unfortunately, a tree service, the latter to remove some large trees from the property.

Let's get this straight, they can remove trees. Of course, during that part of the operation the boss/owner was there. Though he didn't identify himself as such, he was operating the crane. Unfortunately, when his work was done he left, leaving the stump grinding to his son and his crew. They don't have the same sense of honor nor the impulse to do good work as the owner. Not realizing this, I was operating under the premise that they wanted to do a good job for me. That's why when their foreman Sean approached me and suggested that instead of hauling away the chips from the biggest tree, a camphor tree, it might be a good idea for him to spread them around so the lawn, once sod was placed on top of the chips, would slope away from the house. It sounded like a good idea to me, so I said okay. That was a mistake. One, I didn't realize the mass of chips that stump and its roots would produce; and two, I didn't realize, as my landscaper later told me, that sod would not grow on top of the camphor chips and that it would take 5 or 6 years for the chips to compost.

My landscaper figured that PTCS had just been trying to save the cost of disposing of the chips. I think they were just lazy. BTW, did I mention that they covered a few of my sprinkler heads?

Anyway, I called the company and explained that my landscaper had told me the chips would have to be hauled away before sod was laid down and wondered if they would come back and pick up the chips. I was told they would get back to me, but they didn't. They weren't inclined to come back. Why should they? They had been paid their $2,000+.

I wanted to make sure I was operating under the proper premise regarding wood chips and sod so I googled for answers. It's pretty clear that it is not a good idea to place sod over wood chips. Check out this video:



And this article: How to Plant Sod Grass Over Tree Stump Grindings which suggests you "Remove any large wood chunks or sticks from the area. Remove as much of the wood chips and sawdust as possible and work the remainder into the soil."

So, I asked my landscaper to remove the chips. He and his two helpers did so for $275. In the process of removing the chips they uncovered parts of the tree, roots and stumps, that hadn't been ground down below ground level. He suggested I call PTCS and tell them to come back and finish the job. I called and was told by the girl who answered the phone that she would get back to me after she conferred with the men. She didn't get back to me. Before I called again, I emailed them some pictures.

That produced the desired effect. The boss came out to examine the unfinished job and told me they would be out the next day to finish the job the way it should have been finished the first time. They did. I was so pleased with the outcome that I was tempted to give this review a slight boost but, in his haste to leave the property, the foreman ran over a lawn sprinkler that he had been told he had to avoid. As a consequence, I continue to rate them "Avoid". If you do decide to use them, do so with caution.

They’re Back, They’re Back – The Snowbirds Are Back

Roger and I, the management of the Hudson Highlands Mobile Home Park (A 55+ Community), would like to take this opportunity to welcome back all our friends from Canada, Michigan, New York State, Maine, Vermont, etc. It's great to have you all back, but we sincerely hope you didn't bring any of that cold weather with you, brrrr. LOL :)

We are looking forward to the coming winter and Roger thought, to get things off to a good start, we should go over some of our rules pertaining to pets.

First of all, dog owners, remember that when out doors your pet must be on a leash. There are no exceptions. If you are one of the 90% of residents who think that you and your darling pet are exceptions, then the rule applies especially to you because you are apparently so dumb you actually thing that that mutt of yours is somehow special.

Secondly, under no circumstances are you to allow your pet to do its business (pee or poo; whiz or crap; number one or number two; piss or shit) on another resident's lot. These people may not share your perverted obsession for dumb animals and therefore do not deserve to be gifted with your animal's waste products. Besides, your lot would make a perfectly good toilet. When you're away up north, Roger uses it all the time.

Rule number 3: Wherever or whenever your puppy drops his or her little nuggets, you are expected to pick the frigging things up. And this goes for you, too, nameless asshole who ties his dog to his tricycle and then rides around the park without stopping to give his animal the opportunity to assume a proper hunch-backed squat thereby forcing his beloved pet to drop turds here and there along his route where everybody else has to deal with them. Leaving them in the road is extremely inconsiderate to your fellow residents. STOP IT!

Rule number 4: KEEP YOUR FUCKING DOGS QUIET!

Pardon my French.

Rule number 5: This is a new rule made necessary by the fact that some of you dog owners are either too full of yourselves or, as I believe, don't have the sense you were born with. If you walk your dog down the street, you must yield to all traffic, whether it be gas powered, electric or propelled by pedals. Don't make it necessary for these vehicles to go around you thereby putting their drivers in jeopardy by placing them on the wrong side of the street where they could be subject to head-on collisions with those of your brethren who go whipping through stop signs and around corners because, once again, they don't think those signs apply to them.

Rule 6: If the little bastards chase cars or bicycles, don't dare complain when they get run over. You've been warned.

So, once again, welcome back and enjoy your stay.

Pasco County's Veterans Park Site of Rollerblade Showdown

More problems at Veterans Memorial Park in Hudson. This time it's rollerbladers. After a confrontation with a blader this morning, I returned home and sent an email as directed by the Pasco County website. Here it is:

I was at the park this morning around 9 AM when a young hispanic gentleman who was roller blading informed me that if I don't get out of his way he'll knock me down. He was with 2 young women. Now, if he's correct in his presumption that pedestrians must yield to roller bladers, I will accomodate him by getting off the path when he and his friends fly by. But, if I'm correct in assuming that roller bladers are in the same category as bicyclists and should yield to those walking through the park, I would like to know that as well so I might inform the young lad.

Thank you so much,

Michael Toscano
Hudson, FL

I didn't send copies to anyone important, so, of course, my email was ignored. I should have remembered this from my last contact with the park's administrators, but it's been a couple years and I forgot.

Anyway, you can't expect much from these people - they have no backbone. I honestly believe that the only reason they started allowing people to walk their dogs in the park was that no one had the nerve to tell people not to. I'm serious. Last year, there was a homeless man sleeping on one of the picnic tables for three weeks before I saw anyone approach him. I couldn't hear the conversation but I'm pretty sure the homeless guy was complaining about the service and the park representative was promising to provide fresh linens.

And that pervert who harassed a young woman until she had to stop coming to the park, he still comes to jog a couple times a week.

Anyway, these three rollerbladers have been coming out to the park for a few weeks. No one cares. Except me, that is. Today, as I was completing the mile circuit, I saw two women a short distance ahead of me jump off the asphalt path because a blader was coming from behind me. I normally walk on the right hand side of the path, leaving ample room for runners to go around me or for those walking toward me to pass by freely. I don't get off the path for cyclists or for rollerbladers. There's a sign directing cyclists to yield to pedestrians and most of them do. There's no sign for bladers, but common sense would seem to dictate that the same rules should apply to them.

Still, I wanted official confirmation. I emailed the Park's district manager, Brian W. Taylor, and he got back to me explaining the other guy was on leave. According to Mr. Taylor, bladers who are approaching you from behind should announce themselves and reference their intended path, like "ON YOUR LEFT." That makes sense. Unfortunately, the blader I'm talking about does not adhere to this courtesy. The only time I've heard him shout anything was when he came up on two women who were walking side-by-side, thereby taking up the entire path, and all he said was "COMING THROUGH!" Of course, the ladies scattered.  But, he scared the crap out of them which must have made him feel good since that's the only reason he comes to the park. I must admit here that the guy is an accomplished rollerblader - he can weave in and out of pedestrians with ease without slowing down at all. I guess that, too, is part of his fun. The two girl that come with him? They're not so good, though one is better than the other. The second woman, the one who is always flailing and appears close to falling down is not accomplished enough to skate by someone who is on the path and therefore expects everyone to step off the path so she can get by. I say "No" to that. I am not jumping off the path for anyone.

Certainly, the best  course would be to ban rollerbladers completely from the narrow paths at Veterans Park. The Suncoast Parkway is a mere ten minutes away. The paths there are as wide as a country road and far less congested. But, what would be the fun of going there where there are so few people to annoy?

And regarding the narrow paths, I found the following guidelines at the Federal Highway Administration Safety site:


Width and Clearance
The paved width and the operating width required for a shared use path are primary design considerations. Figure 17 depicts a shared use path on a separated right of way. Under most conditions, a recommended paved width for a two-directional shared use path is 3.0 m (10 feet). In rare instances, a reduced width of 2.4 m(8 feet) can be adequate. This reduced width should be used only where the following conditions prevail:


1. bicycle traffic is expected to be low, even on peak days or during peak hours,
2. pedestrian use of the facility is not expected to be more than occasional,
3. there will be good horizontal and vertical alignment providing safe and frequent passing opportunities
4. during normal maintenance activities the path will not be subjected to maintenance vehicle loading conditions that would cause pavement edge damage. 


Under certain conditions it may be necessary or desirable to increase the width of a shared use path to 3.6 m (12 feet), or even 4.2 m (14 feet), due to substantial use by bicycles, joggers, skaters and pedestrians, use by large maintenance vehicles, and/or steep grades.


The minimum width of a one-directional shared use path is 1.8 m (6 feet). It should be recognized, however, that one-way paths often will be used as two-way facilities unless effective measures are taken to assure one-way operation. Without such enforcement, it should be assumed that shared use paths will be used as two-way facilities by both pedestrians and bicyclists and designed accordingly.


Surprise! The paths at Veteran's Memorial Park are too narrow for shared-use by pedestrians and either cyclists or roller bladers. I measured the path at different points. It varies but averages about 74 inches. Remember, six feet is the bare minimum for one-directional shared use paths. The path at Veteran's Park is not one-directional - just as many people travel clockwise around the circuit as those who go counter-clockwise. Therefore, the path should be ten feet wide. The 8 foot exception doesn't apply because the path's use by pedestrians is constant rather than occasional. And, please, don't suggest that the one-directional flow be made mandatory. I've already explained how unwilling the crew over there is to enforce anything. A couple weeks ago, a woman walked her unleashed dog, who was drifting 40 to 50 yards off the path in every direction, around the circuit two times without anyone attempting to straighten her out. So, let's be honest - chances of the county widening the path are less than nil.

In lieu of any official action regarding these violators, who, by rights, should be banned from using the park because the path is too narrow, I propose that those of us who use the park take matters into our own hands. I declare March to be Knock A Blader On His Ass Month. Whenever one comes flying toward you, daring you not to get out of his or her way, hit them with your shoulder or elbow, kick them, wack them with your cane - incapacitate them. If no one out there is willing to protect us, we'll have to protect ourselves.


Happy hunting!

One Tank Lunch Excursions: Jackson's American Grill, Venice, FL

I told my wife that since we usually head on home shortly after lunch we should from now on refer to our day trips as One Tank Lunch Excursions. She agreed.

Our latest foray took us to Venice, Florida, a beachside community on the Gulf Coast just south of St. Pete. We arrived early and took in some of the downtown sights, including the Farmer's Market, several touristy shops and, after what seemed like a mile and a half walk westward, Venice Beach. It's a lovely town.

That's me dwarfed by some well-rooted members of the community.

By the time we returned to town center from the beach, having stopped briefly at a garage sale where I picked up a Porche cap which I needed to cover my bald head having left my Yankee cap at home along with my sunscreen, it was lunch time. Lunch time for me, that is, since controlling my diabetes requires me to eat at regular intervals.

Researching the local eateries, my girl had discovered that Jackson's American Grill had been highly rated by various sources. "Five Star," she told me. So, knowing I craved the occasional burgher, fries and milkshake combo, she had pre-ordained Jackson's as our lunchtime stop.

Jackson's American Grill

We arrived there at about ten after eleven when, it was evident, they were still in the midst of a brisk breakfast trade. And, to be totally honest, the breakfast plates that were flying by were filled with the most mouthwatering specimens of breakfast fare I have seen in some time. Unfortunately, we had eaten our breakfasts at home at around 6:30 AM, before we had headed out. So, a second breakfast seemed to go against our private code.

We inquired if it might be too early for lunch but were assured it wasn't. Service was very good - our server was a young lad named Will - as was our lunch. Among the shortcomings was the fact that shakes came in only one size. Ever carb-conscious, I usually prefer a small shake. Also, I chose not to go for the 8 oz burgher, opting instead for the 5 ouncer, but, though nicely presented with lettuce, tomato, bacon and a pickle, it was absolutely dwarfed by the bun which seemed more suitable for an 8 oz burger or larger. Too much unneccesary bread!

Another thing I'm forced to mention is the attendance of dogs. Among the people eating at tables out front on the street were several dog owners whose mutts were on their laps, in their arms, tied to their chairs, sniffing here and there, or otherwise preoccupied. In fairness, the entire town of Venice should be tagged as Dog Friendly. During our earlier trek to the beach, we had been passed by a girl runner, a look of "screw you" plastered on her smug face, who had been followed closely by her faithful, unleashed pit bull. Just down the road, we were confronted by a little old white-haired lady out walking her unleashed poodle. All through town, dogs were angrily confronting other dogs, as I detoured out into the street to avoid their little yelping matches. I understand the love people have for their pets - I still miss my two cats dearly - but, I would never subject friends or strangers to them against their will. Not so with the people of Venice. There's even a downtown dog wash. And, of course, people collecting for a new dog shelter were set up in the farmer's market. So, if you are not a dog person, I'd say Venice isn't a place for you.

Anyway, getting back to Jackson's American Grill, because of the mismatch between burgher and bun, I'm going to give it four stars. But, if I'm ever in the neighborhood, I'd love to try them for breakfast.

Ron's Pizzeria & Cafe, Naples, FL: A Zero-Star Rating

With spring break giving us a few days off, my wife decided, after a winter of my complaining that it was just too cold in central Florida, that it might be nice to go on a little excursion to Naples, Florida, to see how life was in the tropics.

We took off bright and early, following Mapquest's simple directions, and drove into Naples by eleven. After locating our hotel, we headed out to one of the trendy touristy districts my sweety had found via Google. It was lunchtime for me, and luckily, there were more restaurants on 5th Avenue South than parking places.

As a diabetic, when I'm traveling, I usually load up a syringe ahead of time for lunch in order to simplify things. This strategy, deciding on an insulin dosage ahead of time, means I have to order an amount of food to fit the dosage. On this day, it seemed to me two slices of pizza could fit the bill nicely.

We were perusing the menu outside of McCabe's Irish Pub when I noticed Ron's Pizzeria & Cafe across the street. “How 'bout some pizza?” I asked my wife. “Good answer,” she replied. Ron's had pizza on the menu displayed outside, but I couldn't find it listed by the slice. “Let's go inside and ask,” suggested my tour director. So, we entered.

We were immediately accosted by shiny headed waiter hellbent on leading us to a table. We weren't ready for that, yet – we just wanted to know if they sold pizza by the slice. No, said the waiter, his shaved head glistening with perspiration, they did not. He obviously surmised it was a financial decision on our part. I didn't think it was any of his business that I was only carrying a two-slice dose of insulin or that my cholesterol-conscious wife would never eat more than one slice of pizza whatever the occasion.

Then, he told us they offered a ten inch pie. As I tried to conger up an image of a ten inch pie, he added, somewhat snidely, that we might want to get it “to go,” as though he preferred we didn't stay on the premises. “Why? You mean we're not good enough to eat in this place?” I snapped. I mean, seriously, where in hell were we going to go? “How much is a ten inch pie?” I asked, hoping for a ballpark figure of the price. “Well," he sneered, "that depends on what you want on it.” That's when he made his fatal mistake. He opened a menu, extended it toward my wife, pointing at its contents, and began “If you can read...” With that, I shoved the menu back toward him and suggested he shove it up his f#$*ing ass, not, mind you, to cast aspersions regarding his sexual proclivities, but just to let him know I'd had enough of his shit. As we left, he offered up a wimpish retort in his native tongue which, he should be thankful, I couldn't understand. Please note: This dirt bag, along with the last nine generations of his inbred heritage, and all his progeny as well, are not, on their best day, worth one one-thousandth of my wife's last sneeze. Were this the old west or even Sicily, and not Florida - last stop before the hereafter, I would've shot the bastard.

My wife later suggested that our rude treatment may have been due to assumptions the grease ball had made about our socioeconomic status. I guess that could be true. We were both rather casually dressed. But, what kind of people get all dolled up to take a stroll around town? I mean, besides hookers, octogenarians whose cosmetic surgery lets them pass for 75, and other phonies.

I briefly considered buying the restaurant just so I could fire the slimeball, but my wife, ever the pragmatist, pointed out that with all the restaurants in the area he could easily lie his way into another job.

Anyway, the zero-star rating can be attributed to the fact that due to a discourteous staff I didn't have an opportunity to sample the offerings of Ron's Pizzeria & Cafe. People who have had that opportunity have spoken out here. Not even a few favorable reviews apparently submitted by Ron's employees can improve the ugly portrait painted by past customers.

Luckily, just down the street we found Cafe Luna which offered pizza by the slice, though I opted instead for a meatball sub which was out of this world, and courtesy in the ten plus range. If you're ever in the neighborhood...

All in all, Naples is a nice place to visit. The Gulf down that way is beautiful. These 3 pics were taken from Naples Pier.

And we enjoyed looking at homes with their well-kept yards in the old historic neighborhoods. But, as for a place to settle, there are far too many people for us, too many cars, and way too many tourists. I think we'll stay put for the time being and tough out those occasional dips below 50 degrees.

Note: It appears that we may have received a response from someone representing Ron's Pizzeria, though they identified themselves simply as "otch." Telling is the fact that the details of my experience as I reported them are not disputed. Their argument apparently being that my wife and I deserved the treatment we received because of our audacity to think that pizza might be available there by the slice. Though I would like to post the comment, the language and sentiment expressed in it are too vile for public viewing. Besides, there's always the possibility that whoever sent me this comment, replete with its misspellings and greenhorn grammar, are not representatives of Ron's Pizzeria at all, but, rather, a party or parties who wish to make the crew at Ron's look like a bunch of idiots. Meanwhile, I'm trying to see if blogspot can trace the comment back to an IP address.

Veterans Park: Going To The Dogs

I enjoy walking and jogging around Veterans Park off Hicks Road in Hudson, Florida. It’s part of the Pasco County park system:

I’m not alone – others enjoy it, too.

By 7:45 AM, many people have already hit the trail:

 During my walks, I’ve seen Bald Eagles, Pileated Woodpeckers and, of course, Sandhill Cranes:

Of course, there are rules:

But, as they say, rules were made to be broken or, in this case, changed:

To: Frederick J. Buckman, Parks and Recreation Director,
Martha S. Campbell, Administrative Services Manager,
Brian W. Taylor, Parks & Recreation Mgr (Area I & II)

Subject: Dogs at Veterans Park
When my wife and I arrived at the park this morning, at about 7:45 AM, for our walk, we immediately observed people walking around the park with their dog. Since, as they often are, a sheriff car was sitting in the parking lot, I approached the officer and asked if it was within his power to do something about the dog. He advised me to find a county park employee and inform him of the dog's presence. There was a man in the main building cleaning up so I informed him. He advised me that the policy had changed and that people were now allowed to walk their dogs as long as they stayed on the asphalt. If that's true, it's a sad day for park regulars who already have to deal with discourteous bike riders and roller bladers. Now, we have to dodge dog droppings, too. Anyway, the dog in question was being allowed to run all over the place. The park employee didn't seem to care about the dog. As for me, I've always taken comfort from the signs that inform visitors that the policy is "no alcohol and no animals." If this is no longer the case, I'm sorry to hear that.

The Reply:

Dog in park at Veterans Memorial Park
Mr. Toscano:
 I am Terry Hamby, Park Operator at V.M.P. and have been asked to address this with you. At the present time, dogs are allowed at V.M.P. only on the trail, and signage is in the process of being created to define areas where they are permitted, while the current signs will be modified to reflect the change in policy. Dog owners have approached the county and requested that they be allowed to walk their animals at this facility, the results of which you have witnessed. However, dogs must remain leashed, and the owners are expected to clean up any mess their pet may leave laying around. In the near future we may be able to provide pet bags for this purpose, but until then pet owners are responsible for their own clean up supplies.
 In the case this morning I also saw the dog, and did nothing about it due to the change in policy and the fact that the dog was leashed, although it was a very thin retractable style leash that from a distance looked near invisible.
 When I am asked by pet owners where they can take their dogs, I recommend  to them Crews Lake or Jay B. Starkey Parks, both of which are better suited for this activity and have pet stations. When they ask if they can come to V.M.P. I tell them they must stay on the train and clean up after the pet.
 I am sorry you had this experience, but rest assured we are trying to maintain a clean facility for use by our citizens, and will endevor to keep this park clean and dog dropping free.

Regards,
Terry G. Hamby
Park Operator II
Veterans Memorial Park
Pasco County Parks and Recreation department

The thing with those retractable leashes is that owners can let their dogs roam off the path when they think no one is around, then reel their dogs back in when someone approaches. I’ve seen it already, on three occasions.

Doggy does its business.

The woman, seen above allowing her beloved bow-wow to run, restrains her dog everytime I pass by. Afterwards she praises her mutt by chanting “Good girl, good girl,” as though the act of not attacking me was praiseworthy. This, btw, is the same "leashed" dog Terry G. Hamby referred to in his email.

Of course, I have questions. Like, what was the decision-making process? Was there a decision-making process? Or, is asking all it takes? If so, I'd like to have my car washed and waxed on Wednesdays. And, how many inquiring dog owners does it take to get the policy changed? Who, exactly, are these dog owners? And, who do they know? Did anyone consider polling those of us who are already using the park before they changed the policy? And, how many bike owners will it take before the signs are changed to read “Pedestrians Must Yield To Bicycle Traffic?” Two? Three?

No Dogs. No Bull.

I’m not happy about this change, mainly because I know dog owners. Back when I was a telephone man, time and again when customers let me in their house they’d tell me not to mind their dog because it didn’t bite. Guess what – they didn’t bite their owners, but they sure as hell didn’t mind sinking their teeth into me. Up to now, I’ve seen three people at Veterans park walking their dogs. Two of them have violated the rule about allowing the dogs off the path. It’s only a matter of time before the dogs start lunging at people and barking at the cows and the cranes and all the other wildlife. After all, that’s what dogs do.

UPDATE: March 10, 2013 - The dog situation continues to deteriorate. People don't pick up after their dogs. People don't think their dogs need to be confined to the path or, for that matter, need to be leashed. And, worst of all for us bird lovers, dog owners think it's great fun to let their dogs loose in the area of the pond on the west end of the park, a pond that had been a haven to all kinds of wading birds, so that their little lovable pooches can cause the birds to scatter and fly away which they have, permanently, to somewhere outside the park. Contact the park authorities, you say? You have to be kidding. They usually confine their activities to the smoke free sections of the park, where, by the way, they can be found with cigarettes dangling from their lips.

My Lowe’s Nightmare

Let me start off by saying the salesman was nice. Of course, salesmen are always nice. They want to be your friend. That must be one of the rules of successful salesmanship. Not too long ago, my wife and I were shopping for a car at the now defunct Gulf Motors when a salesman asked, after learning we were from New Jersey, what part of Jersey I was from. When I told him Dover, he swore that Dover was his home town. No kidding, I said. “Where abouts did you live?” “By the school,” he answered. “Which school?” “You know, the big one.” By then, I realized the guy was full of shit and probably couldn’t find Jersey on a map. Still, he was probably employing tried and true selling techniques.

Anyway, the guy selling appliances at Lowe’s was a nice enough guy. He helped us roll the Samsung refrigerator we were looking at over to the Whirlpool range so that my wife could compare the shades of stainless. Then, he gladly accepted our debit card and we were good to go.

The problems came with the delivery men. They brought in the refrigerator, attached the freezer compartment handle, plugged it in, then, set the temperatures. So far so good. Then came the range. The lead man, in charge of the connections, did a little finagling, then, voila, tried the burners. They worked. Then, he tested the oven. Zap, it threw a breaker. He tried it again. Same result. He told me there was something wrong with the breaker and that I needed a new, updated, version. Then, he and his partner left. Appreciatively, fool that I am, I tipped each of them a fin.

After removing the breaker from the box – it was a duel 30/40 amp breaker common to houses on wheels – I drove up to Lowe’s and talked to a guy in the electrical department. He said they didn’t have the breaker I needed, a 30/50 amp breaker, and directed me to try across the street at Home Depot. The guy at Home Depot, an ex-electrician, informed me that the 30/50 amp breaker recommended by the guy at Lowe’s required heavier wire than what I had in the trailer and that installing one could spark a fire. He advised me to contact an electrician.

Well, it was Sunday afternoon. But, luckily, I live in an old fogies trailer park where the residents are retired from all kinds of occupations. With a few calls, I found myself a retired electrician who was glad to come over. He ran a few tests and determined that the line was okay to the range outlet and through the cord up to the stove. Something’s wrong with the stove, he said.

So, I called Lowe’s, spoke to the same salesman, and was promised I’d receive a new stove, in fact, a better stove, the next day. And I did. They plugged it in, turned on the oven, and everything worked perfectly. No one has gotten back to me from Lowe’s. Guess they think it’s okay that their delivery man had me running all over when he should have known that there was something wrong with the stove. My guess is he was just too lazy to cart it back out to the truck.

Speaking of lazy, I noticed the refrigerator door, when allowed to swing shut, was closing with enough force to jolt the entire hacienda. I got down onto the floor and discovered that neither of the levelers were touching the floor. They just plopped it down and left it there.

I never liked Lowe’s, but my wife did. Let’s face it, as opposed to HD it’s more girly. You know, finished floors instead of concrete, etc. etc. But, I doubt they’ll ever see another nickel of my money.

Florida’s US Senate Seat: Vote for Ace

I, Michael J. “Ace” Toscano, am now throwing my hat into the ring for the U.S. Senate seat vacated by the Republican Mel Martinez. I know Governor Charlie Crist is already on record as a candidate for this seat, but, let’s face it, he’s a “politician” and guilty of all the offenses to humanity and common decency that that word implies.

Me? I’m free of all party affiliations, though I must confess that in the last Presidential campaign I contributed to McCain, Hillary Clinton and Ralph Nader. I was trying to hedge my bets and wound up losing anyway. Go figure.

Anyway, I won’t bore you with a whole list of things I stand for, mainly, because I don’t stand for much. I will take care of my friends. You can count on that. This includes facebook friends, myspace friends, high school friends, poolroom friends, people I met in line at the 7-11, and folks like that.

My main focus is going to be on eliminating health-care benefits for all members of the House and Senate. Why should the taxpayers foot the bill for a bunch of ass-wipes who couldn’t care less about the health-care of their constituents? It makes no sense. Let them scramble for health insurance just like everyone else.

Wars? I believe we should send our kids to war only when they are given the opportunity to fight alongside Sasha and Malia Obama, as well as Joseph, Ashley and Robert Biden. Add to that list all the children of all our dear legislators. Otherwise, it’s a no go. I mean, if their snobby children are too precious to go to war, SO ARE YOURS!

My platform is ever-evolving, but my principles are steadfast. I’m going to look out for you. You can bet your ass nobody else will.

BTW, I won’t be on the ballot – that’s too much friggin’ trouble – so you’ll have to write me in. Bring a pen.

Drive-Thru or Walk-In?

This is one of our modern day conundrums, like yesteryear’s “paper or plastic.” Everywhere, whether you’re going out for burgers, donuts, or perhaps just to make a bank deposit, you have to make the choice.

My wife and I discovered a couple years ago that, even if we were in the mood to enjoy our Checkerburgers outside at one of the tables, we would get our victuals a lot quicker via the drive-thru than if we parked and lined up at the front window.

The bank? We haven’t quite figured that one out, yet. Like this morning I drove down to Bank America on 52 in Hudson. Because I was making what I believed was a “simple” transaction, and since I know the lines inside were tied up by old-timers who went to the bank just to converse with the tellers, I figured I’d try the drive-thru.

It seemed like the right choice, because the third slot from the window was empty allowing me to pull right in. Hastily, I placed my three checks plus the deposit slip in a canister and sent it off. I wanted to get some cash back, $50, so to facilitate matters, I had remembered to sign the slip in the appropriate spot. Quick in and out, I’m thinking.

I had a good view of the two women who were working the drive-thru. One of them pulled my canister out of the shoot and set it down while she completed the transaction she was working on. My turn. I watched as she ran the checks thru the little machine the tellers have. I guess it’s some kind of scanner. Something wasn’t going right - she seemed perplexed. She went thru the procedure again, with no more success. Several minutes went by, then she gave up and carried my checks, etc. to the other girl.

I was familiar with this girl. She has hair down past her ass. The last time she had served me inside, she had greeted me with a “Congratulations, Mr. Toscano, you’ve been selected to…” She was trying to make it sound like I had won something when, in truth, she was trying to sell me something. “No, thanks,” I replied.

Meanwhile, a lady in an SUV who had been sitting behind me, saw an open slot. So, she backed up and slid into it. Needless to say, a couple minutes later, she was finished and on her way. I pressed the “Call” button. “Yes? Can I help you?” girl number one responded. “Yeah,” I said. “How come she’s gone and I’m still sitting here?” “Well, sir, she may have had a simpler transaction that was easy to complete.” “I’m depositing three checks and getting $50 back. I thought that was pretty simple.” “Well, there was a problem with your checks. They have to be scanned individually…” Crapola. I’ve been going to that bank for years. It takes about 2 seconds to scan on check.

Other customers are coming and going. I’m still waiting. Finally, Ms. Long Hair ships the canister back and says, “Thank you, sir, have a great day.” “Yeah, sure,” I bark back. “It’s gonna be wonderful.” “When you want cash back, sir, we have to scan the checks individually…” I got the message: the delay was my fault because I brought them three checks and asked for $50 back. No chance that the fault was theirs. Next time, I’ll see if I can deposit the checks at Checkers.

Internet Adventures #1

Say you’re a travel agent, or, maybe, a snowbird who wants something that will remind him of his winter stomping ground. You go to google and run a search on Florida Posters. What site will be first among the million and a half that google pulls up? Could it be my Florida Posters & Prints page? No, not likely. How about my page dedicated to Miami Posters & Prints? Again, no. Well, maybe, you’ll be directed to my page featuring Vintage Florida Posters, sister page to one presenting Greetings From Florida Posters. Answer: nope and nope.

What you will find atop the list is a site entitled Vintage Florida Posters – Travel, Beach, Seascapes, Travel Tips and Apartments to Avoid. I started this page back in 2001, when I was merely a toddler, using my free ISP provided web space in order to air a grievance against an unscrupulous landlord who had robbed me of a $500 security deposit. I had hoped to add other apartment complexes to the list as visitors emailed me their horror stories, but those stories never came, so, I decided to take advantage of the significant traffic the page was attracting by offering posters. Obviously, it turned out to be a good idea – I have one of those every once in a while.

Anyway, it gives me a good feeling when folks choose to buy their posters through me rather than by going directly to one of those poster super-sites. It’s sort of like them going down to their local mom & pops store instead of the supermarket when they run out of bread.