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WILL YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE FLY?

Am I one of the few people who just heard about gold star 🌟 drivers’ licenses? Apparently, most everyone knows that in October of 2020, you will need one if you want to get on an airplane. 
A lot of folks are starting to panic about what you must have to get a Real ID, indicated by a star in the upper right hand corner of your driver’s license.  Indiana BMV printed a list of about 30 things you might use to get this ID: a W2 form, social security card, voter’s registration, passport, birth certificate, utility bills etc. Since my license was about to expire,   I spent about a week compiling a bunch of stuff. With a folder full of paperwork, I arrived at the license bureau wondering if I’d brought enough documentation.  Apparently, I had a lot of company, because I saw other people with manila envelopes and file folders full of papers.   

The agent who waited on me seemed about as friendly as a hungry bulldog.  I suppose he’s sick to death of dealing with all this confusion and extra paperwork.  It turned out, I needed only three things to get the new license: passport, voter’s registration, and social security card. Since I haven’t worked for years, I was able to use my social security W2 form as proof of my number.  Those three documents , and my old license got me through the process as fast as dealing a deck of cards.  What I did not like was the new ruling about the pictures.  You can’t show your teeth when you smile, and have to lift your bangs to reveal your eyebrows.  The resulting mug shot makes me look so grim that I’m hoping no one ever sees it.

The irony of it is, I’m  so fed up with flying that I may never need this special ID.  But at least I know that if there’s some emergency forcing me  to stuff myself  into a crowded airplane,  my 🌟 license will fly.

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HACKERS, IDENTITY THEFT & THE IRS

Saturday started out to be a beautiful day. The sun was shining as I walked to the mailbox at the end of our driveway that morning. Sifting through the junk mail as I walked toward the house, my heart skipped a beat when I saw a letter  from the IRS.  No, we didn’t have a refund coming, so it wasn’t a welcome sight.  Who wants to receive a letter from those guys? I ripped open the envelope before I even got inside the house and slowly lowered myself into a chair.

Dear Taxpayer, it began.  Then went on to say they needed to verify our identity before processing our tax return.  This did not sound good.  Was it a sneaky way to tell us we were being audited?  We were given 30 days to reply to this letter “4883C”  by phone or mail. First, I would need to gather various documents, including the previous 2 years tax returns. (Thank you, God, we don’t do our own taxes).  We’ve used the same accountant for 30 years, but the letter said we couldn’t ask him to handle this for us; we had to do it ourselves..  

I put the letter down and dialed the toll free number, but of course, they said they were closed on weekends. This would give me two days to stew about it, even though my husband wasn’t concerned.  I did what I always do at times like this; got on the net and keyed in 4883C IRS letter. There were lots of links, and most of them said the same thing. This letter does not mean you are in trouble.  Good, that calmed me down a bit.


Finally, this morning, I called a very pleasant women in Texas.  After I gave her all the information she needed, she sweetly informed me that someone had stolen our identity, filed a tax return before we did, and received a tax refund.  That sounded like something to worry about, like it or not, but she assured me we weren’t responsible for the fraudulent payment.

Now comes the curiosity phase. How do identity thieves scam the  IRS?  Apparently,there is a window of opportunity for hackers in January, because employers don’t have to file W2 forms until the end of Jan.  So, the identity thieves create fake W2 forms before that time (in our case, Jan. 23) and file returns, and scurry  away with their refunds before anyone is the wiser.  Our accountant says it happens all the time and costs the IRS  billions.   But now we have this creepy feeling that someone has way Too Much Information about us. Yikes!

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LOVING GRANDPARENTS ARE A RARE TREASURE

 

This post will not be a tribute to my own loving grandparents, because I didn’t have any.  My maternal grandmother died  in rural Indiana when my  mother was thirteen.   Mother went away to school, and at age 21,  married my father in Chicago while she was attending musical college–much to the chagrin of my paternal grandparents.  They didn’t like her,  and so naturally, she didn’t like them. As a result, we seldom saw my father’s parents except for brief visits every few years.  My father’s brother lived across the street from them, and his children were the ones they cared about.  My widowed, paternal  grandfather lived on a farm with my uncle’s family of four children, so those were his “real” grandchildren.  I don’t remember any of my grandparents sitting down and talking to me or showing the slightest interest in me or my life.
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So, I do have grandparent envy when my husband talks about the wonderful relationship he had with his grandparents in Nebraska.  If you read his book, A Preacher Called Sinn, you will understand what a profound effect their love had on his childhood.  During the depression, his parents were under stress, afraid of losing their farm, and consequently home life was fraught with tension. But my husband had a safety net—he could go across the road and enjoy the unconditional love of “Grandma Alice and Grandpa Will.”


Grandparents living nearby can serve as back up parents, compensating for the occasional lapse in parenting skills  on the part of their own children.   And even if they don’t live nearby, faraway grandparents can still offer loving support in the way of phone calls, special family trips together, visits, birthday and Christmas cards, and even social media.

In Hillbilly Elegy, the author J. D. Vance writes of a tumultuous childhood with a drug addicted mother, and divorced parents.  The only thing that saved him was the knowledge that his grandparents would always be there for him.   Who knows what your grandchildren will accomplish in life because of the love you’ve given them.

 

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ACTIVISTS PROTEST WHILE FARMERS PRAY FOR RAIN

Although my husband and I live in the city, we have an acre of land, and are surrounded by farmland.  As we drove past thirsty cornfields on the way to the cemetery on  Memorial Day, we thought about the anxious farmers who planted those fields. You see, my husband grew up on a farm in Nebraska, and my grandfather owned a farm in Indiana. And even though I lived in big cities like Chicago and Miami for a couple of decades, I never forgot the importance of rain.
Over the weekend, I read a fascinating book written by activist Cecile Richards, and it occurred to me that perhaps it offered an explanation of the great divide between big city liberals and heartland conservatives.   In general, people in flyover country don’t really have the time to devote their lives to activism.  They’re too busy producing the food that appears miraculously in New York and LA supermarkets for the people who live in high rise apartment buildings, and never have to  worry about mowing their lawns.
I thought about this last night while I was cleaning up my garden.  It finally rained,  so I could stop watering the flowerbeds and grass, and get to work.  I broke a pretty good sweat while down on my knees, tugging on weeds in the good, moist soil while my activist sisters in big cities were busy planning protests and hoping it wouldn’t rain.  Here in the heartland,   people don’t have their heads in the clouds, they’re literally more down to earth.

I am not saying that’s good or bad; and I’m not defending either side of the political spectrum,  but it may explain the difference in the mindset of  middle America vs the east and west coasts.  Of course, we have our share of liberals and activists, especially on college campuses everywhere in the United States.  But generally speaking, people in small cities and towns in the Midwest  are more focused on just making a living and getting by, and yes, praying for rain.

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CAN TRUMP & ROSEANNE COPE WITH TWITTER?

After Trump’s “covfefe tweet ” and Roseanne’s “ape” gaffe in reference to a black woman, I’m beginning to wonder if celebrity seniors should stay off Twitter.

I’m a decade older than both of them, and I’ve had a Twitter account for several years.  Here’s the thing:  it’s really easy to eliminate a dumb tweet.  Just go over to that arrow at the top of your tweet, click on “delete,” and  voila! The stupid tweet is gone forever!  Do these people not edit their own posts? Do they have failing eyesight?  The average person reading these weird and offensive  tweets  shakes their head and wonders if the bizarre tweeter is on something.  Medication? Substance abuse? or maybe it’s due to just plain senility. 
Perhaps it’s a problem that Trump and Roseanne didn’t grow up with social media, or understand the power of it for celebrities like themselves.  Now, if I had made such an inane tweet as the two of them,  probably nothing would have happened.  My followers would simply have shrugged it off as the ranting of an old lady.  Possibly, someone on Twitter would have spotted it and gotten me suspended or kicked off Twitter for awhile.  But I do actually read my tweets after they are posted, so I’ve avoided that problem.

Trump seems to have gotten away with some of his wackier tweets, at least for the time being. But the cancellation of the Roseanne show probably put numerous of people out of work.
I hate to say it, because no one monitors my tweets and I don’t want them to, but maybe, after a certain age and you’re a public figure, perhaps you should give a responsible person access to your account so it can be edited.  Like maybe, your little grand children?

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ERNEST HEMINGWAY LOVED CUBAN PICADILLO

Tired of serving the same old comfort foods like fried chicken and pot roast?  How about a change of pace with a Caribbean dish that’s super easy to fix, and adds a little variety to your life. The olives and raisins give it a special kick.

There are a ton of recipes on the net for picadillo.  I’ve fooled around with all of them, and have arrived at my own favorite. 

Ingredients:

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 pound super lean ground beef

½ chopped onion

Small red or green pepper, chopped

2 minced garlic cloves

1/3 cup of raisins soaked an hour in ½ cup red wine

1/2 cup pimento stuffed olive slices & 2 Tablespoons of the brine

1 10 oz. can diced tomatoes with green chilies (get in the ethnic foods section)

2 teaspoons cumin, 2 teaspoons oregano
or
 2  teaspoons of plain old taco seasoning is easy and just as tasty.
You can experiment with different spices to get the flavor you like best.
First, sauté the onion, garlic and red or green pepper in  olive oil until the onion looks soft. Then crumble up the ground beef and cook until brown. Throw in the rest of the ingredients, cover,  and simmer for about 45 minutes.  If it starts looking dry, add a little water or red wine.  Serves six.

That’s it.  You’re done.  Serve over cooked rice.  

Best of all, only 2 pans to wash.

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PRETTY GIRLS AND ANGRY SCHOOL SHOOTERS

Misogyny takes many forms.   Common wisdom says that everyone loves a pretty girl.  But, in fact, males who feel intense frustration that a lovely girl doesn’t return his feelings of affection may take a gun to school and shoot her.  The tragic events at high schools in Indiana and Texas prove this point.
Beautiful women have always sensed that their appearance may  arouse intense feelings of envy and jealousy. A pretty girl may be the kindest, most gentle soul imaginable, but her looks may evoke hostility  from other girls, who will label her shallow, vain, and any other adjectives they can summon up to diminish the fact that she’s just way too good looking.   Although not every man will decide to shoot her, some  men will hate her because they realize they don’t stand a chance to win her affections. They will probably call her dumb, crazy, bitchy,  or whatever hateful term comes to mind.  Very young women often don’t realize this.  Perhaps that’s why Muslims think it best if women cover their hair and faces.  At least they won’t get shot by some  jealous maniac.
I know of a wealthy mother who was so determined to have a beautiful daughter that she submitted her to a nose job,  chin lift,  and other surgeries.  Her hair is done in an expensive salon, far out of reach for average teenagers, and her make up is a Sephora triumph.  Designer clothes on a perfect figure complete the picture. Why then, does this girl look so sullen and miserable when you see her in public with her parents?   Pulchritude is a gift, but it can also be a curse.