I was wrestling a double bed spring up the driveway toward the rolloff. He explained that he recycled metal. There was metal to be found all over: everywhere from people like me cleaning up to construction sites and general trash, even simply discarded on the side of the road. He would haul it away and sort it before taking it to the recycler. The less pre-processing that needs to be done the higher the value. Take wire or cable, for example. Strip the plastic insulation from copper wire and get paid for pure copper.

So I gave him the ancient bed spring and gave him a hand throwing it into the bed of his pickup. Predictably, Metal Man asked whether I was discarding any other metal. This is a house that’s destined for sale or demolition, so there definitely was metal to be found. We walked around the property talking about… well, metal.

It was a real eye-opener, learning how Metal Man could take something that, to me, had a value of less than zero – a heavy, worn out window air conditioner for example, and extract real value. By breaking it down to its component parts, there was several pounds of copper, more of steel, etc.

Despite this fouled economy Metal Man makes money. On a good day, he tells me, he can earn a few hundred bucks. Not too shabby. Which is also why I’m not mentioning his name or number. The nature of Metal Man’s business is such that (while he didn’t come right out and say so) I’m absolutely certain he’s flying under the radar, if you catch my drift. His source materials are free and the recyclers pay anonymous cash. He’s part of a cash economy where each of his dollars is worth about a third more than each of mine. No too shabby. And business is good, to the point that he’s got three others he employs part time as needed, mostly for muscle or sorting.

I’ve got a lot of respect for Metal Man. He’s made something from nothing, found a niche and filled it. He’s got an admirable work ethic. He does what he says he will do and shows up when he says he will show up. He doesn’t make excuses or complain. He smiles a lot. All qualities that you see less and less in our gimme-gimme, me-first world.

I’ve got the feeling that no matter what the future holds, Metal Man will be a survivor.

I’m a big fan of rebates. Yeah, I’m one of those folks that actually sends ‘em in and keeps track of whether or not they pay off. (They always do pay off, by the way.) By the end of the year they make for a pretty good return for the few minutes it takes to satisfy the requirements.

Yesterday’s mail brought the latest one. But instead of the usual check there was a thick envelope containing a Visa debit card.

Netgear rebate debit card

The card was adhered to a cover letter, printed single-sided on heavy stock. The envelope also contained a Know Before You Go! insert explaining a few situations where you might expect difficulties using the card, like restaurants (where they typically pre-authorize an amount that includes gratuities) and gas stations (where the card simply won’t authorize at the pump). Finally, a tri-fold Cardholder Agreement: “IMPORTANT – PLEASE READ CAREFULLY” it implored, followed by dense, tiny print that covering both sides of the unfolded page.

Instead of the eyestrain I turned to the log. It all started when the 8+-year-old network switch in Damian‘s room finally failed. (I wasn’t unhappy; the failed switch was the last piece of stuff less than gigabit speed on the wired LAN. I wondered how many frames that old Linksys beast had switched in its lifetime…) Anyway, the Netgear replacement was on sale for about $36, then there was this $10 rebate. The rebate process consisted of a quick visit to a Web page to complete a form and print the qualification sheet (maybe 2 minutes), copy/paste the address and print the envelope, fold the qualification sheet, razorblade the bar code from the box, stuff and stamp the envelope (another 2 minutes or so to ). Then the logging and tracking on my part (another minute, tops).

The value of the whole thing? Ten bucks. All that stuff had to have cost Netgear more than that to process, produce, mail and track. Not to mention the involvement Parago, Inc., who runs Netgear’s ProSafe Rebate Center, and Visa International.

The old checks were easy to handle; just shove it into a convenient ATM and be done with it. Now there’s this card to bulge my wallet, another value to keep track of and – oh yeah – that trifold of fine print. (Where can I use it? Where can’t I? It says ‘debit’ but they said use it like credit. Hmmm.) And I’d better remember to use it before it expires. Wait a minute, expires? It’s good through October of 2011, it’s embossed right there on the plastic, but in that Fine Print…

Account Maintenance Fee: Subject to applicable law, a fee will be applied to all accounts each month, after the six month anniversary date. The charge will be recurring each month until the balance of the account is $0.00.

So, considering that the Account Maintenance Fee is $3.00, if the card sits on my desk unused then on May 2, 2011 it’ll be worth $7. On June 2, $4. August 1, $1. And finally, on July 2, $0. Hey! For three months and 29 days – from the date the fees drain it dry until the thing expires – the card will have no value at all!

So I don’t get it. Can someone explain who makes out on these things? I mean, I understand coupons. Print a lot, the redemption rate’s pretty low (Groupon fiascos excepted – small companies have been nearly put out of business!) But these? I’m sure Visa gets paid, but beyond that it baffles the mind.

I use credit. In fact, I use it every chance I can. The card I use the most has a rebate program that I actually use and, over the past 8 years or so I’ve collected an average of about $750 per year in rebates. Not bad!

The other day I was clearing the most recent statement while the news was running a credit fee related story – and my bank was the focus. I pointed my browser to their Web site to see what the fuss was about. It took a bit of searching but I found it, buried under a link:

Late Payment Warning

Wow! That’s a hefty fee alright. And a hefty interest rate, too. This must be what the story was about.

There’s really more to the story, though, and the reporter didn’t bother to share it. See, I know the secret already. And I’m going to tell you what it is. There’s no number to call, no login, no registration, no gimmicks at all. Absolutely free. The secret to avoiding those nasty fees. My gift to you.

So, here’s the secret. Ready? Here it comes now.

Pay the bill. On time. Or don’t use the credit line. You know exactly when the next closing date, the statement arrival date and the due date will occur. Plan. Huh? You can’t resist the urge to spend? Then go and put the card in your safe deposit box until you learn some discipline. (Don’t close the account, though, that’s bad for your score.) Then pay the bill. On time.

Simple, isn’t it?

Can anyone tell me a rational reason why churches enjoyed tax-exempt status?

We absolutely need to tax all churches, as we do every other non-profit.

Check out this Web site to learn a little  more (edited 2-Sep-09) to read some more; it was the first hit Google returned when I searched.

Who’s with me on this?

There. I’ve said it. And I’ll say it again. Jon Corzine sucks.

Besides the hits those words will likely deliver, let me tell you a story about the latest affront this dope’s administration has foisted upon us poor working slobs.

The registration for one of my bikes is coming up for renewal at the end of July. I’ve had the form on my desk for a couple of months now. I’ve been meaning to ride down to the agency to take care of it – I even attempted it on one of the few days that it didn’t rain. Alas, the lines were long – must have been the beginning or end of a month – and it was just too nice a day to wait it out. So I rode instead. But I digress…

A one-year registration renewal for a motorcycle in the People’s Republik of New Jersey cost US$31.50. Yeah, I know, that’s way more than you pay, isn’t it? Well, we’re used to it.

Anyway, this afternoon’s snail mail brought an envelope from Motor Vehicle Services. As I walked in from the mailbox thought it odd – nothing was due, other than the registration renewal which was already on my desk. What could they want? Can you guess?

Of course! A fee increase! And not just any fee increase, a whopping 106% increase to US$65.00! And it takes effect when? Not the end of July, when the second wave of motorcycle registrations comes due (just twice a year here – something to do with the ‘riding season’). Oh, no, July 6th, the Monday after the holiday. Today’s Wednesday. Friday’s a holiday, and Saturday, too, for the State. Just one day to act.

I visited the agency just before they closed and paid the lower cost. Surprisingly, the lines weren’t *that* bad, considering it’s the beginning of the month. I saw two other motorcyclists in the fray. None looked happy.

I unloaded a little on the girl at the counter. It wasn’t personal, of course, but I felt it was my civic duty to express my displeasure. She said she’d been hearing it all day, and leaned closer to express her own displeasure with Corzine.

They’ve already taken removed the convenience of online renewals. My pickup already costs well in excess of US$100 to register. I wonder what that increase will be…

I believe there’s a special place in Hell waiting for that SOB. I’ll be more than happy to drive him there myself, on the end of my boot, no State Police detail needed.

If you’re considering voting Corzine in for another term I’d really like to hear your reasoning. Add your comment today.

One of their parks is nearby and I’ve visited quite a number of times since they opened when I was a kid. It used to be a lot of fun. But when they installed the metal detectors a couple of decades or more ago I swore I wouldn’t go anymore. I haven’t quite kept to that.

By all accounts the parks are crowded to capacity. Admission, parking, food – everything - is incredibly expensive, even for Jersey. The lines are painfully long for every ride, all the time. I was there a while back and we spent a good deal of wait time trying to calculate the cost per minute of ride experience. In excruciating detail. It’s okay, we had the time and it was good mental gymnastics. (At least I developed my company’s slogan from that trip, so I suppose it wasn’t a total loss.)

Anyway, can someone please explain to me how it’s possible that a business like that can be bankrupt? I just don’t get it.

A woman with a Chrysler product needing service was being turned away! Her story, following a good hour of waiting for a diagnosis, unfolded something like this. Chrysler hasn’t been paying their third-party suppliers and so some have stopped, well, supplying. Bummer, but the thing that she needed happened to be affected. There was no stock, nothing available and the prospect of an order being fulfilled was virtually nonexistent.

The service writer went on to advise her to take her plight to Corporate and appeal to them as a wronged customer on the shitty end of the stick, through no fault of her own. It was right about then that the light bulb came on over her head – this was no ordinary conversation. She needed to take notes.

The service writer was sympathetic, gave her specific people and addresses to write to, coached her on what to say, stuff like that. But that doesn’t help her ailing car very much and, after listening to her yap on her phone while she waited for that news, wasn’t what she needed in her life just then.

I’ve been following this; I’ve got a stake in it because I sell stuff online. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’m opposed to the idea. I collect – and pay the state Treasury – sales tax from customers here in New Jersey because my business presence is here. But I simply haven’t got the manpower to keep track of the nuances of 7,000-plus tax authorities in the US alone.

Well, I’m not writing here to complain. What I’d like to do it point you toward a particularly coherent article on ZDNet:

Over and over and over again. Oh, I’m so sick of hearing it. And besides, what with the economy in the toilet it’s just what the weak need to hear: a pitch for a zero-percent loan to buy something so stupid as a car. Wake up, people. Do you really think a corporation is going to let you borrow their money for free? Oh, you’ll pay, one way or another. And that’s something you can take to the bank.

As for me, I’ll need to long-forget that abysmal ad before I’ll even consider buying anything from Toyota.

So, um, I wonder if there’s a peripheral deal for the video rights?

The reality of it, though, is it ain’t gonna happen. Look out for yourself, my friends, because nobody else is gonna look out for you. Take that to the bank.

[edited after posting to add this URL for easy reference: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPch2k63uj4]

http://www.weforum.org/en/media/Latest%20Press%20Releases/GITRreport2007_2008

My stash of fuel had finally run dry. It’s been a while since I bought the stuff retail. Three years according to the database, almost to the day. In 2004 I paid $12 per gallon in 32 ounce cans at an Eastern Mountain Sports store.

I stood next to the display rack stacking a handful of cans into my right arm, mentally multiplying the shelf price of $10.95 per 32 ounce can, when it hit me! The shock was quickly followed by the realization that the increased cost makes perfect sense.

At least they were running some kind of sale. I got a few bucks off and, to my surprise, there was no sales tax either.

So what’s the metric for consumption, the equivalent of miles per gallon, for juggling torches? And in these days when everyone’s going ‘green’ has California outlawed fire juggling, labeling practitioners as horrible, vile polluters?