I read an article from the Motley Fool written by Maurie Backman. She wrote about the three mistakes you might make during your working years that will haunt you in retirement. She listed: thinking you'll fall back on Social Security, not saving from an early age and playing it safe with investments. 

Now I’m no financial wiz, but I think she missed the mark by a long shot. Here some regrets she didn’t mention:
​
Loaning money to your brother-in-law.
Not paying off your debt to a loan shark.
Sending money to some guy in Nigeria.
Not having a prenup with your first wife.
Not paying your taxes.
Betting your nest egg on a hot tip at the racetrack.
Taking all your money out of Apple and investing in Eastern Airlines stock.
Throwing away the winning lottery ticket before checking the numbers.
Starting as an Uber driver with a rickshaw.
Stealing the identity of a person on the FBI ten most wanted list.
​
I’m sure there are many more regrets, but time and space doesn’t permit me to list them all.

A Memorial Day Salute

I received got this message from the President of the Military Officers Association of America. I thought I’d share part of it.

We stand in awe of those who made the ultimate sacrifice. We pay tribute to those who knew the risks, who knew the odds, and who marched onward. And we see the courage in our men and women at home and overseas who continue the fight.

The national marking of Memorial Day began just after the Civil War, but this year’s commemoration comes as we prepare to honor a different generation of service. With the 75th anniversary of D-Day approaching, we recall the stories of young soldiers waiting in the front of their Higgins boats, soon to charge up the shores of Normandy into chaos, uncertainty … and, ultimately, victory in Europe. The losses were heavy, but bravery and dedication to the mission won the day.

We take this moment to look back on those who served and sacrificed in these battles and others across the decades. Caissons continue to roll at Arlington National Cemetery too often due to a service-related loss. We must never forget to take the time to honor the service and sacrifice of our nation's military – and that of their families.

From the past to the present, we all find our own ways to remember our fallen servicemembers. Learning more about the history of service is an important way to honor their sacrifice.
​
On Memorial Day, we remember.

3Recently President Trump proposed changing our immigration policy to move it toward a merit-based system rather than the current family-based approach. It did not include giving refugees a written exam (in English). Under the current system, the vetting process is a long and laborious process. First the UN screens them and refers the most vulnerable cases the US for resettlement. If someone has committed a crime, that person doesn't qualify for resettlement. Then the US does its own vetting involving eight federal agencies, six different databases, five separate background checks, four fingerprint and biometric checks, three in-person interviews, two inter-agency checks and a partridge in a pear tree. That takes a lot of time and personnel. A quicker vetting process is needed.

I have developed a quick test to separate those refugees that truly love America from the terrorists bent of our destruction. The test is in the American (not British) language. No Spanish, English, French, Arabic or other versions exist. The refugee must score 100% or is forever banned from entering the USA. This test could be given to large groups at one time to speed up the vetting process. No collusion allowed. I think such an exam might be useful and save time. Below are my suggestions for questions to use to screen out terrorists:

1.Do you love The United States of America? Yes or No? [The only acceptable answer is Yes. The test giver must not say, “Do you love America?” because that might include Central America, and South America.]
2. Have you ever been a suicide bomber? Yes or No? [The only acceptable answer is no.]

3.The first words to the National Anthem are… Pick one.

1. Jose, can you see?
2. Okay, you can pee.
3. Oh, say can you see.
4. Beautiful for spacious skies

[The only acceptable answer is 3.]

4.The best foods to order in a fast food restaurant are… Pick one.

1. Tacos and burritos.
2. Rice and General Tso’s chicken.
3. Gyros and lamb kebabs 
4. Hot dogs and apple pie.

[The only acceptable answer is 4.]

5. If you wanted to buy a car for a car bomb, which would you choose? Pick one.

1. Ford Mustang
2. Volkswagen
3. BMW
4. Rolls Royce

[This is a trick question. There’s no right answer. If the subject selects any answer, he is a terrorist. However, a is the second-best answer. Always buy American.]

6.What is your favorite weapon? Pick only one.

1. AK47
2. Colt Defender
3. RGP
4. Improvised explosive device (IED)
5. Pipe bomb

[The only acceptable answer is 2. Always buy American]

7.What is your favorite sport? Pick one.

1. Football
2. Throwing Molotov Cocktails
3. Throwing stones at police
4. Running away from police.

[The only acceptable answer is 1. Nobody really watches baseball.]

8.Who is considered the Father of the United States? Pick one.

1. Donald Trump
2. Ronald Regan
3. Elvis Presley
4. George Washington

[The only acceptable answer is 4.]

9.Which of the following is not a real freedom under the Bill of Rights? Pick one.

1. Freedom of Religion
2. Freedom of Speech
3. Freedom to live in Massachusetts and vote in Rhode Island
4. Freedom to Bear Arms

 [The only acceptable answer is 3.]

​10.What is the motto of the USA? Pick one.

1. E pluribus unum. Latin for "Out of many, one"
2. Sock it to me. American for “sock it to me.”
3. Carpe Diem. Latin for “Seize the day”
4. BOGO. American for “Buy one, Get one.”

[The only acceptable answer is 1.]

11.If you are mentally ill, what can’t you do in the USA?
  1. Run for President.
  2. Figure out how to put together Ikea furniture.
  3. Buy a gun.
  4. Drive a car.
  5. Get Married.  

​[The only acceptable answer is 2.]
​
Failing this test means the refugee doesn’t love the USA and most likely is a terrorist that should be banned from entering the country.

A while back, I read on my news feed the 7 Signs You’re Drinking Too Much Coffee. The article listed these symptoms: you feel anxious, your stomach hurts, your heart is racing, you have diarrhea, you can’t sleep, you've got the jitters and you get headaches.

As usual, these types of lists always omit some symptoms. Here’s what the list omitted:

You buy coffee colors shirts, so the stains don’t show.
You plant coffee beans in your garden.
Your Starbuck’s bill is more than your electric bill.
You sprinkle ground coffee on your omelets.
You start carrying instant coffee and spoon for a quick pick-me-up instead of a snack.
You start looking for coffee flavoring in all your food.
You can smell a coffee shop one mile away.
Your teeth turn brown.
Use start using a needle to inject the coffee directly into your blood stream.
You think hospital coffee tastes good.
You buy coffee by the bushel
​
If you have any of these symptoms, you may need an intervention.
​

I like to watch TV. However, lately my favorite shows seem to have added so many sub-plots that it’s hard to keep them straight. There’s a sub-plot for each relationship.  Here’s an example of a detective show with too many sub-plots. Enjoy.

Too Many Sub-plots – A Short Story
 
Dick sat at his non-descript desk in the bull pen typing out his report on his latest bust. His partner, Tracy, sat in the desk next to his doing the same.

A tall blond walked over to Dick’s desk and sat on the edge of his desk. It was Joanna from Vice. She was a very successful undercover detective in vice because she looked and acted like a hooker. “Are you coming over tonight, handsome?” Joanna asked slyly.

“Yeah,” Dick answered. “As soon as I finish my report, I’ll be right over – thirty-minutes, tops.”

Joanna stood up. “Okay but don’t be too late or I’ll start without you. Oh, and bring your handcuffs.”

“Where are yours?” Dick asked.

Joanna smiled. “We’ll need two pair tonight, Sugar.” She exited the room with a little more sway than her usual strut. Dick and Tracy watched her until she turned into the hall with a pad of sticky notes stuck to her butt.

Dick glanced over to Tracy in time to see him advert his eyes back to his monitor. Dick returned to writing his report. Finally, he broke the sound of clicking key boards, “This isn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Tracy asked, looking up.

“The whole justice system. Today we busted a meth lab and took in… what, half a mill in drugs and easily $100,000 in cash, and what do we get out of it? A pat on the back. It isn’t fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You know, in some companies, we’d get to keep ten percent.” They both returned to their keyboards.

After a few minutes, Tracy said, “Did you know there’s 3.5 million dollars in the evidence room? A couple of smart guys like us could figure a way to get it out.”

Dick sat back in his chair and looked at Tracy. “You’re right. We could figure out how to remove it without anyone noticing.”

“After work, let’s go get a drink and talk about it,” Tracy suggested.

“I can’t. I’ve got a date tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

Tracy laughed. “Going over to Joanna the Slut’s place?”

Dick stared at his partner. “Don’t call her that.”

“Everyone calls her that.”

“I don’t care. Don’t call her a ‘slut’ in my presence.”

Tracy threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, partner.”

Detective Columbo, another detective in Dick’s department, walked over and leaned on Dick’s desk. He looked Dick straight in the eyes. “This isn’t over, dick-head. We need to settle it. Let’s you and I go to the gym tonight and get in the ring – no holds barred.”

Dick smiled. “Can’t tonight, maybe tomorrow night.”

Columbo straighten up. “Oh yeah, you’re going out with Joanna the Slut tonight.”

Dick jump to his feet. He would’ve hit Columbo in the face if Tracy hadn’t jumped in between them. Tracy placed his hands on Columbo’s chest and gave him a slight shove. “Not now, guys and not here; tomorrow night at the gym. Now beat it, Columbo.”

Columbo pointed a finger at Dick. “I’m going to kill you.” He turned and stormed out.

Dick’s boss, Lois Lane, stood in the doorway to her office. “Dick.” Both Tracy and Dick looked up and made eye contact. “Not you, dick-head, the other Dick,” Lois said. She signaled for Dick to come into her office. When Dick came into his office, Lois said, “Close the door and sit down.” She shuffled through some pages and finally looked up at Dick. “Where’s the report on today’s bust?”

“I’m working on it, Chief. I’ll e-mail it to you in twenty minutes.”

Lois nodded. “Do you need over-time?”

“No, No. I got it. Besides, I have a date tonight.”

Lois chuckled. “Going out with Joanna the Slut again?”

Dick didn’t answer; he just glared.

Lois shook her head. “Look, I understand. You work hard, you play hard. It’s been a long day and you need your pipes cleaned. Go for it. Go ahead and just file the report. Print out a hard copy for me.”

Dick cocked his head. “Is that why you called me in here? What’s on your mind?”

Lois shook her head. “You always were the perceptive one. Internal Affairs is reopening the case from last year about the teenager you shot.”

“Who’s heading up the investigation?” Dick asked.

“Sherlock Holmes.”

Dick shook his head. “He’s been after me very since I accidently ran over that kid my rookie year. That shooting is a closed case. It was a clean shot.”

“You fired nineteen rounds into the perp. You stopped to reload a second clip.”

Dick stood up and shouted, “He was jaywalking!” He took a deep breath and composed himself, flopping down in the chair. “He could have been hit by a truck. I probably saved his life when I shot him.”

Lois shook her head. “It would have been better if you had killed him. He sued the department and the city settled out of court for five million dollars. I think Sherlock wants to recoup some of the money from your pension. That’s brings up a good point; You shot him nineteen times and he still crawled away.”

“I could have killed him if I wanted to.”

Tracy stuck his head in the door. “Dick, you better come out and see this. Your daughter is here asking for you.”

“Damn it!” Lois shouted. “I closed that door for a reason.”

Tracy stepped inside the office. “Sorry, Chief. It’s an emergency.” Dick stood up and marched out of Clark’s office followed by Tracy.

Dick’s daughter, Mystique, stood by Dick’s desk; young, pretty, wearing a too short and tight mini-skirt and sporting a black eye.

Dick stopped in his tracks. “WTF? Who hit you?” Mystique wasn’t crying, but Dick could tell by the way she clinched her jaw she was pissed.

Mystique chuckled.  “My so-called boyfriend did this.”

Dick clinched his fists. “I’ll kill him. Where is he?”

Mystique held up her hands to stop her father. “You have to chill, dad. I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself. I’ll handle this. I just came by to borrow a gun.”

Tracy reached down to his ankle and pulled out a small pistol. “Here. Use mine. It’s unregistered and the serial number’s filed off.” He stepped forward and handed it to Mystique.

“Thanks,” she said, “I’ll return it tomorrow.” She kissed Tracy on the mouth. Her left hand stayed on his buttocks a little too long. She turned and kissed her father on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you tonight.”

Dick shook his head. “Sorry, hon. I’ve a date. I might not be home tonight.”

Mystique laughed. “Oh, Joanna the Slut again? Oh well, I shouldn’t talk. Have fun. See you at the fight.”

Dick was puzzled. “What fight?”

Mystique stopped in the doorway. “I heard you and Columbo are scheduled to fight tomorrow after work. It’s about time you two kissed and made up.”

Dick could feel his face redden. “Is nothing a secret around here?” He watched his daughter walk out; her mini skirt revealing a little too much cheek. He turned around and saw Tracy watching her. When he glared at him, Tracy looked down and slithered over to his desk. In ten minutes, Dick was finished and headed for the door.

“Give my love to Joanna,” Tracy shouted.

It was now dark. As Dick walked toward his car, he heard a voice out of the darkness. “Dick, wait up.” It was one of his confidential informants, Moriarty. Moriarty closed the distance between them. “Hey, we need to talk.”

“WTF, Moriarty? I said never to talk to me here or in public.”

“I know, dude, don’t get flamed. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important.” Dick paused to listen. “Word on the street is you and Tracy going to drain the evidence room.”

Dick was stunned. “Where did you hear that?”

“I’ve my sources. That’s why I’m a good CI. Is it true?”

“It’s in the planning stage.”

Moriarty placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Well, if you need help, I’m here for you, dude. I also heard you and Columba are going to rubble tomorrow night.”

Dick raised his voice. “Damn it! Are there no secrets anymore? So… what are the odds?”
“Three to one in Columbo’s favor.”

“WTF? I’ll murder that guy.” Dick took out his wallet and fished out a twenty. “Put $20 on me to win.”

“Come on, dude. Only a twenty? Your daughter put up $30 on Columbo.”

“I guess there is no loyalty. I always thought blood was thicker.”

Moriarty laughed. “Well, I guess we’ll see tomorrow. By the way, Chief Lane bet $50 on Columbo.”

Dick looked up at Lois’ window and saw the light was out. He pulled out another $10 and gave it to Moriarty. “Now get out of my sight before I arrest you for gambling.”

Moriarty disappeared into the shadows. From the shadows he yelled, “Give my love to Joanna the Slut.”

THE END

​This snippet has so many sub-plots I have forgotten the original plot. Too any cooks spoil the broth. The same goes for sub-plots.

Here’s another of my favorite short stories. Enjoy!

If Thoughts Could Kill

Angelina allowed herself a small snicker as the focus of her ire came down for breakfast. God, I hate him, she thought. Look at that idiot. Little does he know that I am going to kill him next week. I can’t stand the sight of him.  
  
“Good morning, dear,” Ravi said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep last night?” I wish she died in her sleep. That would make everything easier, he thought. I must kill her next week. He sat down at the table opposite her.    

Angelina handed Ravi the half-and-half. “Fine. And you?”

Ravi blew on the surface of his coffee, a habit that Angelina found extremely annoying, and took one sip. Blood began to drip from his nostrils. As he reached up to touch his face, foam began to pour out of his mouth. He looked at Angelina with those narrow beady eyes as his head hit the table with a thud. Then his head rolled off the table, across the kitchen floor and into the dog’s dish where Peppy, the greyhound, began to lick his face.    

“Like a baby.” Ravi grabbed the bagel knife, reached across the table and stabbed Angelina’s hand, pinning it to the table. Pulling a pistol from the back of his waistband, he shot Angelina between the eyes. He smiled as the back of her head blew out like a smashed watermelon. Blood spouted out the top of her head and down onto the flannel nightgown that he hated. “Do you have plans this weekend?”    

“No, not really.” Angelina poured another cup of coffee. Yes, you bastard, Angelina thought. While you’re banging your slutty mistress across town, I be buying some antifreeze for your coffee. Then I’ll  stop off at the gun shop and pick up the pistol that has been on hold during my background. I also want to find your old hunting knife.    

“Me neither.” Ravi sipped his coffee again. I wish I had a slutty mistress across town so I could spend the day banging her while you waste money on another facial. He finished his coffee and stood up. “Well, I am going to get dressed and do some yard work.”    

“You do that, dear. I think I’ll go into town and get a facial.” What an idiot. He is worth millions but wears the same pair of underwear for years. I can’t wait to kill him.   
 
“Have fun. Pick up something for dinner.” As Ravi walked out of the kitchen, the kitchen exploded in a ball of fire. Apparently, someone left the gas on in the oven.    

“Ciao,” Angelina answered. As Ravi reached the top of the stairs, the top step gave way. He grabbed the railing which also gave way. He fell over the side and landed on his head in the living room. His eyes were open and glued to the TV. The thought of it made Angelina smile.   
 
“Angie, I can’t find my lucky underwear.” What a bitch. I bet she threw them out.    

“I threw them out, dear. I’ll buy you some new ones while I’m in town.” I gotta kill him next week.
​    
Ravi shook his head. I have gotta kill her next week.

THE END

​I read with interest an article from The Motley Fool by Maurie Backman, “10 Reasons You're Not Getting Promoted.” The ten reasons included: a negative attitude, showing up late or leaving early, using vulgar or inappropriate language, too many sick days, gossiping, wasting time on social media, being messy, wasting time chatting with coworkers and taking too many personal calls. Sometimes you can guess the reason as when the boss’ son gets promoted over you. The article missed the real reasons you aren’t getting that big promotion. Here they are:

1. Your fraternity or sorority just made the news for some stupid stunt.
2. Your boss just discovered that funny video of you drunk and falling into a wedding cake.
3. HR discovered that you didn’t actually graduate form Trump University.
4. The boss’ secretary showed HR the sext message you sent her.
5. You asked the boss for a date.
6. You brought your AK47 to work.
7. You won’t use the same drug dealer that the rest of the office uses.
8. You used the copy machine for pornography without permission.
9. HR discovered that hilarious video of the office party you posted on Youtube.
10. You showed too much interest in the boss’ son/daughter
11. You said the boss’ idea was stupid.

 
Of course, you may never know the truth. All you can do is to give your very best effort and kiss up to the boss.