For the next Michael Myers movie: I'm already working on the screenplay.

Good afternoon!

So I've been spending some quality time watching some of these slasher movie series that AMC has been running end to end the last couple weeks.  I was never really big into horror films in general and slasher films specifically, but I figure, hey, I'm closer now to death, maybe I should check out what I missed when I was a teen.

I started by recording all the Halloween Movies and watching them in order.  I have a feeling that's NOT how the filmmakers meant for me to be watching their work: during the afternoon, with the sun shining, and fast forwarding through commercials.  But it is what it is.  I had no interest in actually spending MONEY on these movies.  (Except I did have an interest in seeing the newest Halloween flick, everyone else in the world seems to be seeing it.)

I didn't find the movies scary as much as they were...odd.  After watching Leo Roth's "History of Horror," I get the cutting edge idea that fostered Michael Myers in the first Halloween film.  But, since that movie made money, and Hollywood is what it is, they kept making these things until there are so many of them now, the punch of the first film is lost.  It's like watching "The Exorcist" for the first time now.  It's been a punchline for a couple decades, the fear factor is gone.  It's a parody of itself.  

However, after watching what I think was a couple dozen Halloween Movies (I've lost count)  I've decided a couple things.

1) Any Halloween movie that does not involve Jamie Lee Curtis is complete crap.  The ones she's in are at least worth a look.

2) If Hollywood wants another Michael Myers movie, I'm already working on the screenplay. And I have a title: Halloween 46 (or whatever number they're on) The Season of the Sofa!

First of all, there's precedence for this title. The third movie in the series is called "The Season of the Witch" so...parallelism. And you know we writers love that.

Second, I'm fairly certain I'm witnessing this sofa horror in my own neighborhood.  It's October here in Wisconsin, as it is pretty much everywhere else.  (Depending on when you're reading this is it might already be November.)  The weather here is less than sunny. It's cold, it's rainy, it's windy.  Generally, October is the money when we in the Upper Midwest batten down our hatches and crawl into our caves for the next six months, emerging only for the four high holiday:  Thanksgiving, Black Friday, Christmas, and New Year's Bowl Game Day.

But, here's something I've noticed quite a bit when I've ventured outside my house:  The streets in my neighborhood are LITTERED with abandoned sofas.

Maybe I'm hyper aware of this because we recently got a "new to us" sofa and our old one is currently sitting in our garage waiting for Hubby to decide whether or not I can give it to someone to make room for the snow blower he just bought.  But I don't think so. House after house is guarded by a damaged sofa, put on the curb for garbage pick up or  for the random college kid who needs something to sit on other than leaky bean bag chairs.

I think this is the work of a deranged guy who either keeps escaping mental institutions or has been living in the woods for the past 40 years.  (Yep, I started the Friday the 13th movies, too.)  I think Michael, or Jason, or whatever Waukesha wants to call the creeper, is wandering around, dragging people's couches out of their houses.  And those couches are going to rise up on Halloween and attack us all.

Nothing to see here. Just two dudes in search of a sofa.

Implausible, you say? Okay, let's review.  Michael Myers escaped mental institutions something like nine times. He also escaped an explosion and a fire in a hospital AND he escaped a hail of gunfire and another explosion.  Also, his doctor shot him something like six dozen times.

And  Jason?  Well, as near as I can tell Jason drowned as a little kid, but lived until the water of the lake until he attempted to kill a girl in a boat. Then in five years he moved to dry land and grew up to be a big, burly adult, who still needed to kill people.  Where the hockey mask comes in to play, I don't know. I only watched the first two movies of that series. (I do have a day job, you know.)  BUT I think, he got the hockey mask from an abandoned sofa that Michael set out for him to find.

Boom, the screenplay is halfway written!

The rising cost of healthcare is not the problem...this guy is.

Good afternoon all!

So I know it's been some time since I've blogged, but I have a good excuse...nothing remotely amusing has happened to me in a month.  The minute Hubby came home from his Rocky Mountain Vacay, the kids stopped causing trouble, the cars all worked, the cats stopped breaking stuff and puking on everything, and I found a leather sofa to replace the crappy sofa we bought at Ashely four years ago.

Side rant before I get to the real rant:  DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT buy any kind of furniture that calls itself "Durablend."  Four years ago this month we bought a fairly expensive sectional sofa.  We wanted leather because we have 5 cats and let's face it, a cloth covering is just an allergen trap forever. BUT, leather furniture, real leather is 1) Super expensive and 2) hard to find.  ("Leather Match" is a fun way of telling people there's leather where your butt hits and no where else. "Bonded Leather" just means a slurry of leather bits mixed in with floor sweepings to look like leather.)  And of our choices, Durablend seemed like a decent option.  And we trusted the sales person at Ashley furniture.  But we also got their 5 year warranty.

Yes, this is completely normal.  There's not

a thing wrong with this sofa.

Flash forward 3 years. A tiny crack in this "it's going to last you 20 years or more" sofa turns into a railway map of cracks and peeling cover. It was like paint pealing off a wall.  Within a year after the first crack started, three of the cushions and the one arm rest were toast.  

We called the Ashely place where we bought it. Unfortunately, that store no longer exists, so we went to the next nearest store. They found our records and gave us the contact info for their warranty company.

4 years of regular wear and tear.  If monkeys live in your house.

The warranty company said what we were experiencing was normal wear and tear and therefore was not covered by the warranty.  (It should also be noted that the warranty company would ONLY  contact us through snail mail. Because it's 1982.)

I found my bliss at the Restore!

After several phone calls, all of which went nowhere (Ashley Furniture finally admitted they no longer use that warranty company because they're terrible.  But no one seems to be willing to help us feel less pain.) I took matters into my own hands. I went to the Habitat For Humanity Restore near my house.  There we found a BEAUTIFUL leather sofa, chair, and footstool for less than what even a discount store was asking for a "leather match" sofa.  

The money from Habitat Restore sales goes to finance homes built in my community. So, not only did I get a stellar furniture set, I'm helping others.

The moral of the story here is:  Durablend and Ashley Furniture BAD.  Top Grain leather and Habitat Restore GOOD!

But that's NOT why I'm blogging today. No, once again, the line at the Sam's Club Pharmacy has made it into the blog.Once again I was standing in line, this time behind one guy. I was optimistic.  Men tend to take less time doing pretty much everything because they don't ask questions, they don't chit chat, they just get their stuff and move on.

Except this one guy.

Who was in front of me at the pharmacy.

It was about 3:30 in the afternoon. That's sort of a magic hour for the pharmacy. The perfect storm of early in the day old people still straggling in to get their meds mixed with end of the day less old people running in after work. The line at this time of the day doesn't take long to grow into something pretty awful.  Looking behind me on this day, I was really happy to be next up.

Except, this guy was taking forever!

From what I gathered (because that little bit of distance between you and the counter really isn't far enough to keep every conversation private, which makes me wonder why they even bother telling us to stand four feet away from the counter. It just messes with the flow of that aisle and we all get hear to everyone's business anyway) this guy was worked up (seriously hot under the collar) because his insurance company wasn't covering as much of the cost of his medication as it had previously and he wanted to know why.

Now, a normal person would have said, "wow, that med didn't cost me that much last time.  I guess I need to call my insurance company and find out why."

But not this guy. Nope, he jumped into one of those circular conversations that make me insane. This is how it went." 

Guy:  My med didn't cost this much last time.

Counter guy:  We only charge what isn't covered by insurance.

Guy:  But this is more expensive. Did you raise your prices?

Counter guy:  No. We only charge what isn't covered by insurance.

Guy:  I want to talk to a manager.

Counter guy:  Okay  (Gets someone else.)

Second counter guy:  What's the issue?

Guy:  My med is more expensive than it used to be. Did you raise your prices?

Second Counter guy:  No. We only charge what isn't covered by insurance.

This goes on, I am not kidding you, for another three minutes. Meanwhile, the line behind me is now up to fifteen people.  I'm still next. But I'm starting to lose hope that I'm ever going to see the front of the line.

Second counter guy leaves.

Guy:  So what am I supposed to do about this?

Counter guy: You can pay for it now and contact your insurance company or you can leave it, call your insurance company and then pick it up later.

Guy:  STARTS DIALING HIS INSURANCE COMPANY!

(And this is why I think you need to take some sort of test before you get a cell phone. If you don't know that a phone call to your insurance company is NOT something you do while more than a dozen people are waiting in line behind you, then you do not deserve a cell phone.)

Counter guy:  Maybe you could call your insurance company later?

Guy: No, I need to get to the bottom of this right now. Your prices keep going up.

Counter Guy: We only charge what insurance won't cover. You can sort this out with your company later?

Guy: I need to know why this price has gone up.

Now I'm not heartless. I know the panic that sets in when a medication price goes up.  Been there, done that, it's why I have a huge balance on my credit card.  So yes, I understand why he feels the need to get to the bottom of this. But we are now in a line of 20 people, I've been standing there for fifteen minutes, and I can hear the automated answering system of the guy's insurance company (because he's got his volume set to "SCREAM") from four feet away.

Guy:  (Hanging up the phone because he can't get a live person.)  Well I'll have to call them later I guess.

Counter guy: Do you want to pay for this now or come back later?

Guy: I'll pay for it now. I mean, this isn't about the money. It's sixteen cents.

Every ear in that line perked up at this.  SIXTEEN CENTS?  THIS GUY IS MAKING US STAND IN THE LINE OF BROKEN DREAMS FOR SIXTEEN CENTS?

I look down the line and we all have the same expression. If we all kick in a penny, he'll have the sixteen cents plus enough left over to cover the cost of his next prescription upcharge.

Now I'm not making this up.  Not one bit of it.  The guy then starts dialing his phone AGAIN to try and reach his insurance company AGAIN.  He listens to the automated answering service AGAIN (which I can hear clearly) and hangs up.  He says, and I'm not making this up, "I guess no one is going to pick up.  I'll just have to pay for this and get my sixteen cents back later or something."

HE REALLY THOUGHT IF HE CALLED BACK HE'D GET A LIVE PERSON?

Oh, and of course OF COURSE he pays in cash...with pennies, nickels, and dimes, right down to the last of the sixteen cents.

By the time it's my turn, I've been in line twenty-three minutes, my blood pressure is beyond the red line, and there are more than thirty people in line behind me.

I gotta start going to one of those twenty-four hour pharmacies. I mean, stuff like this can't possibly happen at three in the morning, right?

Meanwhile, is there a medication I can take for line rage?  Can I get that covered?