BEST FATHER'S DAY EVER (almost)

This is what my lovely wife and kids got me for Father's Day this year! It is exactly what I wanted and I have already waxed both cars once and will likely do it again this weekend. How insane is that? The old gripe from dads is that we always get tools or equipment designed primarily to fix or build something that the wife has always wanted or needed to be done.

The good thing about me is that I am not handy in the least. For instance, we need a retaining wall in our back yard as the current situation with loose rocks intermingled with dog poop doesn't look as good as it sounds. I cannot, however, build anything. Last time I tried to fix the gate to our yard, it wasn't two days before I was asking our neighbor to fix the mess I had created. First, the whole assembly was crooked and dragged along the concrete during opening and closing movements. Second, it was horribly constructed with flimsy bits of wood and whatever screws and nails I was able to find in the parts bin. So I'm no Bob Vila!

Ah, but this car polisher is an exceptional machine. I may wax every car in my neighborhood. And seriously, our cars shine like forty billion suns in a galaxy of mirrors. What a dumb post this is, you might say. In fact, an English professor I had at a low-brow San Joaquin Valley junior college told me that the descriptive writing assignment that I dedicated to my 1981 Malibu Classic was inane and pointless..."who cares" was his exact comment. What a jerk! It's not like I was enrolled at UC Berkeley!

When I was just out of high school in the mid-1980's, my friend Tim Hudson swore by auto wax from The Wax Shop for his 1966 Dodge Charger, though I don't know if that brand is around any more. Anyway, I am using Mothers Gold Carnauba wax on my cars now. I probably should have started with a cleaner, then a sealer and glaze, but I am a big fat pansy and I just wanted to get the shine on. Plus, I'm dealing with 2 and 4 year old cars, not beaters from the rust belt.

So there you go, Dr. Beloof from Coalinga, CA, another rant about how stupid I am and how shiny my car is because of my wonderful wife and kids. I vow to dedicate my next story to my economics professor at that same "school" who drove a 1978 Oldsmobile Delta 88 diesel. Sweet, huh?

And the only reason that this was 'almost' the best Fathers Day Ever is because my boy is not yet home, but will be on Monday!

Mike Boster - "My Journey" from Hope Community on Vimeo.

Why I Hate My Financial Advisor

To be blunt, straight away, I will simply say that my financial advisor is a boob. He's short, red-faced, and toothy. In addition, he talks far too much. Aren't these people supposed to listen rather than jabber on endlessly about the advantages of trusting them completely with every single financial decision you will ever, EVER make?

So, I hate him with an intensity and bubbling rage that, heretofore, I have not experienced. My previous advisor, with the same company, which I won't mention...OK, I will, it's VALIC, those bastards that nearly ran the world into the sun with their greed and hubris-driven insanity. Nonetheless, my first advisor was Asian, and I simply adored him. Not because of his ethnicity, but because he freaking listened to me, which, as I may have mentioned, my new advisor seems to be unable to do. In fact, Mr. Short Red cannot cease with his talking. I just met with him for 25 minutes and was barely able to get in a word. Bring back the Asian!

In closing, and to reiterate, I hate my VALIC advisor, even though the Bible implores us all to not hate our advisors. In the spirit of reconciliation, I will make all efforts to reduce my hatred to simple loathing. My weekend, however, has been ruined by his stain on my office furniture. I may require an early exit so that I can beat the crowd to Trader Joe's for a bottle of pinot noir to go with our delightful tri-tip this evening. I have spoken!