Category Archives: Days in My Life

I don’t just sit around and watch TV.

City Slickers

Posted on by
4

We become part-time city dwellers.

The situation was absurd.

Mike was driving 70 miles each way from Wickenburg to Tempe for work every weekday. He was spending more time in the car than doing the things that make life worth living.

I was trying to operate a helicopter charter business in a town where the retiree population was far more interested in making day trips to WalMart than spending money on something new and different. All my business was in Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Glendale, making me wonder why I’d even bothered getting a Wickenburg business permit.

We were both trapped in a town with an ever-aging population, few shopping and dining opportunities, and an economy based on real estate and property taxes. There were few good-paying jobs and more than half of the new businesses failed. All of our friends in our age group had already moved out of town to places like Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada, and even Michigan. Our remaining retiree friends weren’t usually interested in activities like camping, off-roading, hiking, or weekend trips by plane or helicopter.

I was miserable, starved for input simply not available in Wickenburg. At least Mike got out of town every weekday, where he could socialize with younger, more liberally minded people and enjoy lunch out with a wide variety of ethnic options.

So when the housing crisis sent house values in Phoenix down 30% in one year, Mike acted. He bought a two bedroom, two bath condo in Phoenix.

Condo Living

We moved a bunch of stuff down to the condo on Tuesday, including a futon, Alex the Bird’s old cage, our old bedroom furniture, and a brand new leather sofa we’d bought at Macy’s. My brother and his wife were still in town and they helped out. They were also the first people to sleep on the new sofabed, since we all stayed over on Tuesday night. The new bed arrives January 14. We’ll bring the futon back home when it arrives.

I spent Wednesday shopping for the things we needed to make the condo a home — mostly kitchen and bathroom stuff. Then I came back to the apartment and began cleaning the kitchen. I soon found that the insides of the cabinets needed more than just soap and water. Soon I was giving them a fresh coat of white semi-gloss paint.

The apartment is part of a large complex of two-story buildings set around grassy, tree-shaded courtyards. It was built in 1965 and the cabinets and closets and bathtubs clearly date back to that time. The cabinets have new doors and drawer fronts and the kitchen is fully modernized with a huge refrigerator, gas stove, and dishwasher. It’s a small kitchen with limited counter space, but there’s plenty of cabinet and drawer space. I don’t expect to do much cooking here, especially with so many restaurants nearby.

Our place has two bedrooms, each with two full baths. The master bedroom has a walk-through closet big enough to satisfy any clothes horse — so big, in fact, that we put my long dresser inside the closet. There’s a big living room/dining room area with a gas fireplace and a wall big enough for the flat screen television Mike keeps talking about. There are two patios, one accessible from the living room and second bedroom and the other accessible from both bedrooms. (Yes, the second bedroom sits between two patios.) Each patio is surrounded by a 5-foot block wall with a gate to the courtyard.

The apartment complex is on Highland Avenue, between 22nd and 24th Streets. That’s part of the “Biltmore” area of Phoenix, although it might officially be just south. It doesn’t matter. We are walking distance from a Trader Joe’s, a Fry’s supermarket, the Apple Store in the Biltmore Fashion Park (which also features Macy’s and Saks), two bookstores, and dozens of restaurants. If Wickenburg is a desert island, our new part-time home in Phoenix is in the port city.

Part-Time Home

Yes, I did say “part-time.” We have no intention of living here full-time — at least not yet. Like at least two other friends of ours, we’ve decided to maintain a home for work and a home for play. We’ll still be in Wickenburg part of each week. The rest of the time, we’ll be in Phoenix.

You see, despite Wickenburg’s shortcomings and the direction that the town’s former administration pushed the town in — real estate growth above all else, including business or job growth — it still has a few things you can’t get in a big city:

Dark skies.
At night, it gets very dark around our Wickenburg home. We’re on the edge of town and few of our neighbors believe in those ridiculous accent lights on their homes and trees. We see the Milky Way every clear night — which is just about every night in Arizona. At the Phoenix condo, there are parking lot lights and pathway lights and the general glow of the city all around. You can see some stars — after all, this part of Phoenix isn’t nearly as bright at night as Los Angeles or New York — but stargazing is not an option.

Peace and quiet.
Because we live on the edge of town in Wickenburg, at the very end of a road, there’s no traffic noise. Because we have 2-1/2 acres of land, we have no neighbor noise. Sure, there’s an occasional barking dog, but we’re more likely to hear coyotes howling at night. And yes, if the wind is blowing just right, we can hear the occasional loud motorcycle or truck air brake from Wickenburg Way or Vulture Mine Road. And, during the spring and fall months, when windows are open at night, we do hear the garbage collector making her 4 AM rounds. At the Phoenix condo, however, there’s a bit more noise. Outside on the patio, you can clearly hear the sound of traffic passing by on Highland, 100 yards away. Police helicopters fly by once in a while, mostly at night. There are more neighbors with more dogs and we can occasionally hear them. Don’t get me wrong — the Phoenix condo isn’t what I’d call loud. But it’s not as quiet as the peaceful quiet in Wickenburg or the absolute dead silence at our Howard Mesa property.

Privacy.
Having 2-1/2 acres of hillside land helps keep neighbors away from your windows. Indeed, in Wickenburg we rarely bother closing blinds or curtains. We have absolute privacy, which is the primary reason we purchased a home that wasn’t in a subdivision. (Who the hell really wants neighbors that close?) At our Phoenix condo, however, privacy is simply not available. Our windows — all of which are actually full-wall sliding glass doors — look out into our patios. Beyond the 5-foot walls is the courtyard. Beyond that is another two-story building looking out our way. Ever see the movie Rear Window? That’s my nickname for this place. No, it’s not quite that bad, but that’s the idea.

Is all the shopping, dining, and convenience of a Phoenix home really worth sacrificing these things for a few days each week?

You bet they are.

I’m Not as Dumb as Most Cars Think

Posted on by
2

And I don’t like cars bossing me around.

This week, I had the dubious pleasure of driving a Dodge. In all honesty, I don’t know what kind of Dodge it was. It seemed to be a kind of cross between a station wagon and an SUV. The car was a rental and I didn’t rent it so I can’t complain. I do feel bad for the company that rented it for me. They got ripped off. The 6-day rental cost them nearly $400.

I will make some comments about this vehicle:

  • It is designed for short people. I’m 5 feet 8 inches tall and my eyes looked almost directly into the top frame of the windshield. Slouching while driving was required.
  • The car was a dog. That means it didn’t want to go. I spend a lot of time with my heavy foot pressing down hard, just to enter or pass on the freeway.
  • It seemed like a perfectly workable family car. Four doors, storage in back. I could imagine kids sitting in there with dirty soccer uniforms on.

Check Tire Pressure?

Check Tire Pressure

After leaving Burbank and starting my long drive to Ventura on the 101 freeway, I noticed that one of the idiot lights was on. We used to call them idiot lights because they used to warn drivers about the obvious problems with a car: overheating, low oil pressure, out of gas. But these lights have apparently graduated to the next level of reporting. Now they report about more advanced problems — or potential problems. I thought the symbol was referring to the oil, but I didn’t pull over to check. After all, I’d just picked it up at Enterprise and they should have checked the oil. Instead, I ignored it.

On the third day, I got tired of looking at it. I pulled out the manual, which was in the glove box, and looked it up. It was a tire pressure indicator. The light on meant one of two things:

  • The tire pressure in one or more tires was low
  • The tire pressure monitoring system was broken.

I walked around the car. The tires looked fine.

I spent the rest of the week ignoring the light.

Stop Nagging Me about My Seat Belt!

I wear my seat belt — at least most of the time. I don’t wear it in parking lots, especially when backing up. I also don’t wear it on the extremely rough roads I sometimes drive in my Jeep. And no, I don’t wear it while driving around town, since my speed seldom tops 45 MPH. My 2003 Honda S2000 and 1999 Jeep Wrangler both have airbags. In the unlikely event of a collision at 30 MPH, I’ll let the airbag protect me from the steering wheel. I don’t think a collision at that speed is going to throw me out of the vehicle, either. I’m more likely to get trapped in my seat when some senior T-bones me at an intersection.

I’m fortunate. Neither of my primary vehicles (or the two secondary vehicles — a 1987 Toyota MR2 and 2994 Ford F-150 Pickup) has one of those annoying seatbelt reminders. Sure, an idiot light goes on on the panel. It might even flash — I’m so good at ignoring it that I just don’t know. But it doesn’t repeatedly beep until I fasten the damn seatbelt. It gently reminds me and then allows me to make my own decision.

The Dodge this past week was a nag. It got so annoying that I fastened the seatbelt behind my back on Tuesday and left it there until I departed Ventura today.

It could be worse. It could be one of those automatic seatbelt things. My sister had a car with one of those. What a pain in the butt.

I’ll Shift When I’m Ready to Shift!

My Jeep thinks it needs to tell me when to shift gears. An idiot light comes on when I accelerate, apparently to signal me when it’s time to upshift. As if I can’t hear the engine or feel the power of the engine. As if I’d prefer watching the instrument panel for the cue than the road in front of me.

I don’t shift when it tells me to. I like to wind things out a bit. My Honda redlines at 9000 RPM — and yes, I’ve been there.

And that’s another thing: engine cutoffs. Both my Honda and my Toyota cut power if I enter redline territory. Okay, so maybe that’s not such a bad idea. It certainly keeps me on my toes when Mike and I race home from Scottsdale or Phoenix. I have better reaction time at traffic lights, but if I don’t shift before redline, the car gives him an advantage. (The fact that he’s driving an AMG doesn’t help me much, either.)

I’m Not Quite Out of Gas Yet

My Jeep also likes to beep when the fuel level gets low. That’s a good thing, since I have become an expert at ignoring idiot lights. The audible warning is a real help. Unfortunately, the Jeep’s idea of low fuel and mine are very different. The Jeep tells me I’m low when the 19 gallon tank gets down to 5 gallons. That’s not low, even for a Jeep.

My Honda uses a series of lighted bars on the digital dash to indicate fuel level. When it gets down to two bars (out of about a dozen), the low fuel light goes on. But I’ve taken it down to zero bars and have only put 11 gallons in the 13 gallon tank. At 25 miles per gallon, I still had 50 miles left.

Of course, I have completely run out of gas in my Toyota. I was on my way to work, wearing a suit and heels, and had to walk about a half mile to the nearest gas station. Then I had to beg them to loan me a container for the fuel. Sheesh. So I’m more careful now. And I use the odometer on that car to judge remaining fuel.

I almost ran out of gas in my redneck truck. (That’s the 94 Ford.) You can read about it here, if you’re curious. That vehicle doesn’t have low fuel lights. It has two fuel tanks, though, and only one fuel gauge.

And Another Thing…

What is it with driver controls these days?

My Honda has buttons near the steering wheel to control the stereo and climate control. But the main control buttons for both devices are less than 10 inches away from the steering wheel. I don’t know about you, but I don’t find it a hardship to reach 10 inches, even when I’m driving.

The car’s cockpit — and yes, it is a cockpit, with less room for the driver than my helicopter has for the pilot — has everything clustered around the driver’s side of the dashboard. And some things are clustered there twice.

At least that car doesn’t tell me when to shift gears.

Today’s Scams

Posted on by
3

Will it ever end?

I need to start by mentioning that I have so much spam protection set up for my e-mail accounts that I get a total of less than 30 unsolicited e-mail messages a day — on 10 e-mail accounts. I think that’s pretty damn good, considering what’s going on out there.

Yet today, I got TWO scam messages before I started my day’s work. I want to take a moment to mention them because I want to help educate people about how scammers are trying to separate unsuspecting people from their money.

I’ll pay you $8000 with my credit card and you give me $4,820 in cash.

The first was a repeat of a scam that I first experienced in May 2007. I wrote about it here. This is a twist on the old scam where you’re selling something and a buyer wants to use a certified check to overpay you and get the excess cash to “an agent” for some other purpose. In my case, what I was selling was helicopter tour services. The “client” was from Germany, planning a vacation in the area, and wanted to prepay for tours around the area for his family. The first time I saw this scam, I got sucked in a bit — until the prepay part, which included money forwarded to a “logistic agent.” Alarm bells went off. You can read all the messages and my accompanying thoughts in the post I linked to above. I highly recommend this post for anyone selling any high-ticket items — goods or services — on the Web.

Today’s message sounded familiar when I read it. A search through my blog using the word “scam” brought it up to refresh my memory. A comparison between today’s e-mail message and the May 2007 message resulted in many identical words and phrases — even the 95-lb weight of the 16-year-old son.

I replied with a link to the post, using TinyURL to mask the URL:

You might want to read the following for more information about how we handle reservations like this:

http://tinyurl.com/5tcryd

Busted!

For security reasons we have sent you this message as an attachment file.

If that doesn’t send off bells and whistles, you deserve to be scammed. The e-mail message in question was supposedly from Barclay’s Bank. I don’t have an account there, so there was no chance that I was going to open the attachment.

The attachment was an innocent-looking HTML file. It could have contained any kind of malicious code or links to a site that would install malware. It could have simply prompted me to enter my Barclay’s account information, which it would then forward to the scammers so they could suck money out of my account.

This might seem simple to everyone — don’t open an attachment. But if you have a Barclay’s account, and the message says the attachment is part of a new security program, and you’re gullible, you might just open it.

Don’t. Open. Any. Attachments. In. Messages. Unless. You. Know. They’re. Safe.

An Off-the-Grid Thanksgiving

Posted on by
10

A pleasant challenge.

Yesterday, on Thanksgiving Day, Mike, Jack the Dog, Alex the Bird, and I took the truck up to our getaway place north of Williams, AZ. It’s an off-the-grid camping cabin on top of a mesa, 5 miles from pavement. If you’re not familiar with the term off-the-grid, it means that it’s not connected to any public utilities. We have solar panels with related equipment for electricity, a propane gas tank, and hauled water.

We left Wickenburg at about 9 AM for the 2-1/2 hour, 154-mile drive. We made one stop on our way out of town — to buy milk and an onion — another stop at the Chino Valley Safeway gas station (where we got a 70¢/gallon discount on diesel), and a final stop at the Jack in the Box restaurant in Williams.

More about Jack in the Box

I do need to digress a tiny bit here. This was the first time since my college days 20+ years ago that I’d been in a Jack in the Box. The last one I’d been in was in Hempstead, NY. I’d been standing at the counter, waiting to place my order, when someone robbed the place by reaching over the counter and grabbing money out of the cash register drawer when it opened. The robber fled quickly — the whole thing happened in about 5 seconds. I clearly remember the manager of the place vaulting over the counter with a sawed-off shotgun. When I say it was a rough neighborhood, I’m not kidding.

The robbery isn’t why I’ve avoided Jack in the Box restaurants all these years. Back in those days, the menu at those places seemed to center around tacos that weren’t very good. I’m not a big fast-food person — I haven’t had a McDonald’s hamburger in at least 10 years — so it wasn’t easy to avoid Jack in the Box. But yesterday surprised me. Mike and I both had hamburgers (since we planned to have turkey for dinner) and agreed that they were probably the best fast food burgers we’d ever had.

Muddy Roads…Again

Anyway, we ate the burgers on the road. There was snow on the ground — maybe about 3 inches of the stuff. It was wet and didn’t completely cover the ground. The clouds were low and thick and slow-moving. Every once in a while, we’d get a clear view of some upper level clouds or some blue sky. Everything was wet and clean looking. It was so un-Arizona. It was magnificent.

Howard Mesa RoadsWe made the turn off pavement and started the five mile trek up to our mesa-top retreat. We’d gotten about 2 miles in when the road’s surface started getting snotty. That’s really the only way to describe the reddish brown dust when it gets wet enough to make mud. Soon, it had coated the truck’s tires and we were starting to fishtail. Mike put the truck in 4WD. We continued up a gentle grade. The truck would not stay pointed in the right direction. This was not a good thing since (1) the road was only a tiny bit wider than a single lane and (2) there was a deep ditch on one side with water flowing in a shallower ditch on the other side. The photo here shows what it looked like the next day, after at least two other vehicles had passed through. By this time, the snot had solidified a bit and the road was passable again.

Back in May 2005, as I summarized in my blog post, “The Roads of Howard Mesa,” Mike’s truck had slid off the road into a deep ditch about 2-1/2 miles short of our place. The conditions had been similar. We’d been fortunate in that a neighbor had seen us go off the road and had “rescued” us with a Jeep. But it had cost $250 to get a tow truck over to pull the truck out. Neither of us wanted a replay on Thanksgiving Day. So when it seemed clear that we weren’t going to make it up the hill, we decided to back down, turn around, and try another route. We wound up sliding into the shallower of the two ditches. Mike put the truck in 4WD Low and powered us down. It was a tense 5 minutes or so, but then we were making a tricky 3-point turn in a bend in the road and going back the way we’d come.

There are 3 roads to access the lots at the top of the mesa. The access road for two of them was the snot-covered road we knew we couldn’t pass. The other road went up to the west side of the mesa. Our friends live up there year-round and the road up is kept in good condition. Between their lot and our side of the mesa is a 2-track “road” carved in by ranchers and hunters years ago. It’s not maintained at all and seldom used. In fact, I’d venture to guess that I use it more than anyone else, since it’s a “shortcut” to our friends’ place from ours. But the good thing about the road is that it’s relatively level and free of the snot-like mud on all the mesa’s other roads.

So we went that way. It was a 2-mile stretch of snow-covered ruts. Mike took it in 4WD at a pretty steady pace. We were both very glad to see the big metal water tank at the other end of the road. We got back onto the gravel surface and drove the final 3/4 mile without any problems.

“Off the Grid” Doesn’t Mean without Conveniences

At our camping shed were more challenges. We had to get the systems up and running. That meant turning on AC power (flicking a switch), turning on the gas (a lever), getting the gas refrigerator started (sometimes tricky), getting the hot water heater turned on (also tricky at times), and firing up the furnace. It’s this last thing that caused the most grief yesterday. As usual, a mouse had build a home in the furnace’s burner area and it had to be cleaned out before we started it up. Our miserable ShopVac stopped sucking, making Mike’s job more difficult. He worked on it most of the afternoon while I cooked dinner.

Cooking wasn’t tough at all. After all, we had an oven big enough for our 7-lb turkey breast (and nothing else), a 4-burner stove, and the decent quality cookware I’d had at home until we replaced it last year. There’s enough counter space, a cutting board, two good quality, sharp knives, and all the bowls and other cooking implements I needed. If you didn’t know we were off the grid, you’d never guess it. The only thing I didn’t use was our 600-watt microwave — and that was mostly because I didn’t want to waste what battery power we had left on what had become a nasty, rainy day.

I made an abbreviated version of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner: turkey breast, stuffing. gravy, and rice pilaf. Although I’d fully intended to make a fresh batch of mango chutney to go with it (instead of cranberries), I’d forgotten to bring along the mango. Going to the store definitely wasn’t an option. So I made the mango chutney recipe with apples. It didn’t come out bad at all. I was going to make some brussels sprouts, but after cooking for about 3 hours, I was too tired.

By 5:30 PM, Mike had the heat going. It wasn’t cold in the shed — the oven and stove had taken care of the chill — but it was nice to get the heat up to a more normal temperature, especially while we ate. We got Jack the Dog back in — he’d spent all afternoon trying in vain to catch one of the fat pack rats living under the shed — and wrapped his wet muddy body in a towel. Then we settled down for a good Thanksgiving dinner, complete with wine.

Reward After a Long Day

After dinner, we did the dishes and spent some time relaxing. I really love it up here — it seems that the troubles of everyday life just don’t exist. We played some “Chicken Foot” dominoes, then loaded a DVD — “Flawless” with Michael Caine and Demi Moor — in my laptop, turned out the lights, and watched the movie. Later, we climbed up into the sleeping loft, where it was nice and toasty — remember, heat rises — and went to bed.

I spent a lot of time looking out the window into the almost perfect blackness. A cloud had descended onto the mesa and there wasn’t anything to see. I’m pretty sure we were the only people around for miles. Some brief flashes of light in the clouds to the north indicated a thunderstorm over the Grand Canyon.

View with FogIn the morning, when it got light, we were in a fog bank. We could see the clouds move in, then clear. It was all quiet except the sound of coyotes off in the distance.

I took this photo, mostly to remember the fog — and the moment. It’s the view from the shed, looking northwest.

In Arizona, fog is a special treat to be savored. There’s no better place to savor it than at our getaway place in the middle of nowhere.

E-Mail I’d Rather Not Get

Posted on by
4

Today’s crop of e-mail messages illustrate how bothersome people can be.

I get about 10-20 unsolicited non-spam e-mail messages today. These are e-mail messages from people I don’t know.

One of the reasons that number is so low is because I actively discourage people from contacting me for help. While this may turn some people off, it’s the only way I can limit e-mail so I get work done.

But today’s inbox included three examples of e-mail messages I try to avoid. They’re either nasty or they’re trying to pull me into a discussion I’m not interested in being a part of.

Mass Times?

The first e-mail came from the reader of a web site I maintain with information about my town. The site’s called wickenburg-az.com and it’s full of content submitted by contributors to the site. It’s not funded by anyone, although we occasionally do get a donation to help cover hosting costs. It’s also not designed to provide every piece of information anyone could want to know about the town. The town is small, but it would take a full time staff of at least 20 people to manage that kind of information.

I’m not sure, but I think person who sent the e-mail message read a post I’d written back in 2006 about St. Anthony of Padua Catholic Church. It’s a beautiful little church in downtown Wickenburg. I’m not a religious person, but I do appreciate good architecture and the main gist of this short piece was to show a nice photo of the church.

Or he may have read another post called “Churches in Wickenburg,” also from 2006, that the Webmaster used to list the names and phone numbers of all the churches in town.

In any case, his nasty message was as follows:

I’ll bet many Wickenburg visitors are forced to phone you to find out the mass times. Why should this be so?

It is NOT difficult to put this info on your home page and it would certainly be a service to visitors.

If you want to use the internet, use it to your advantage.

First of all, no one phones me about Wickenburg, mostly because my phone number is not listed online or in the phone book. And besides, wouldn’t it be easier to call the church in question than to call me? And does he really think I’m going to put church service times on my site’s home page?

Also, many — but not all — people who use the Contact Us link to contact us can read where it clearly says:

All of the information we have about Wickenburg, its businesses, and its events are included on this Web site. We do not have any additional information that we can send out to site visitors.

The people who can read and comprehend this realize that they’d be wasting their time asking me for more information. The ones who can’t read or comprehend it really do waste their time because I simply delete their messages without a response.

But the ones who are nasty to me, get a nasty response. Here’s what this jerk got today:

What are you talking about? No one calls me for “mass times.” I don’t even know what you’re referring to.

And if YOU want to use the Internet, I suggest you stop being so rude to people providing FREE services.

He may think that for some reason I care whether he visits the site. If so, he’s wrong. I really don’t care. The site’s a labor of love and it’s not for people who don’t appreciate the effort that goes into it — people like him.

And is it me or is this just another example of the hypocrisy of these “Christian” types? If they’re so good, then why are they so nasty? What would Jesus say?

Premiere Operator?

The next guy wasn’t so bad, but there was something in the tone of his message that got under my skin. Maybe I was already revved up by the churchgoer referred to above.

This was in reference to the Robbie book I’m distributing in North America for its Australia-based author. I did a mass mailing of postcards to Robinson owners that has resulted in a few orders and general interest in the book.

I received a postcard offering for sale your book “Robbie” which I’d like to order. I reviewed your web site for companies you photographed and noticed the premier remote Robinson R44 flying company, “XXX Aviation”, wasn’t on the list. Is that the case or is it actually part of the book?

I XXXed out the name of the company here because I didn’t want to embarrass anyone. I’d never heard of the company and have no clue where it’s based. I know that the author of the book tried to visit as many Robinson operators as he could but many operators simply told him they weren’t interested in being included.

I think it was the word “premier” that hit a sore spot with me. It was almost as if he were saying, your book can’t be very good if you left out the best company out there.

I responded as follows:

First of all, the book isn’t ours. It’s a publication of Eye in the Sky Productions in Australia. Flying M Productions is the North American distributor and has no control over content.

To my knowledge, the only companies included in the book are the ones listed on our site. They’re the same ones listed on the author’s and publisher’s sites.

I know from discussions with Jon Davison that there were MANY Robinson operators that turned down his offer to be included in the book. Perhaps XXX was one of them? This is something Jon could answer for you, if you need to know. He can be contacted through his Web site, http://eyeinthesky.com.au/

Hope that didn’t come off as nasty.

Loved Your Book; Can You Help Me?

The next message followed the tried-and-true formula so many readers use to contact me for help and advice. The first sentence or paragraph tells me how much they liked one of my books. The next sentence or paragraph is their plea for help.

Here’s today’s catch:

First, I have read your great book on WordPress, and I just want to thank you for a job well done.

My question: I was thinking about creating a site similar to yours for my town in NY where I live. I would like to know your opinion about it, and whether it’s possible to make money out of it.

In defense of this person, he used the contact form on wickenburg-az.com instead of the one on this site. The one on this site basically tells people that I don’t provide support or advice via e-mail or any other method. Instead, I provide Q&A posts for each book that’s still in print and ask them to comment there. This way, their question and my response can be read by others who might have the same question.

In this case, the book in question is 2-1/2 years old and covers WordPress 2.0. I’m pretty sure it’s out of print, since we decided not to revise it for WordPress 2.5. WordPress is now up to version 2.6, with 2.7 due out shortly. Since 2.5, I’ve been doing video courses about WordPress for Lynda.com.

To be fair, his question wasn’t about WordPress. He wanted to know if I make money on wickenburg-az.com. While I realize that’s not exactly what he asked, reading between the lines results in that question.

First of all, I don’t. Second, it’s none of his business. Third, I know from experience that a response would only start a dialog that I have no desire to participate in.

But I responded anyway:

Thanks for the kind words about my book. In answer to your question, no.

I’m a Bitch and I Know It

I know I can really be a bitch sometimes. It’s one of my shortcomings. It has to do with my complete lack of patience. That’s likely because I was born and raised in the New York City area, where we learn from a young age not to tolerate bullshit.

In fact, during a job performance review, I was once complemented on my failure to tolerate bullshit — using that exact word. My boss said something like, “What I like about you is that you don’t take bullshit from anyone. That’s good.” In the real world business of finance, accounting, and auditing, it is a good trait to have.

Elsewhere, it’s kind of limiting.

I do like to help people, but it irks me to no end when you provide a service for free and people have the nerve to complain about it — especially in a nasty way. This is something that bloggers deal with all too often. It just reminds me that there are people out there who would look a gift horse in the mouth (so to speak) and still complain bitterly if the horse’s teeth had gold fillings but one tooth was missing.

People also need to realize that I simply don’t have time to enter into one-on-one e-mail advice sessions with anyone who happens to have read one of my 72 books. Let’s be real, folks. The purchase of one of my books does not entitle anyone to free, unlimited advice and support for the rest of my life. I’ve written about readers who just don’t get it here and here. And I’ll likely write about it again in the future.

Comments? Keep it civil.