I awoke at 7:00 in the AM on Sunday morning to a room filled with smoke.

I was disconcerted.

Had I left something in the oven or was my cigarette can on fire?

Nope.

It turns out that there had been a fire in the laundry room; and as it turns out my apartment is right above the laundry room!

They put it out and everything. About six fire engines showed up from four or five different municipalities within a 30 mile radius.

The first floor was one big puddle or swamp (depending upon how you looked at it or trod upon it) and no one is going to be washing clothes in that spot for awhile (and how will I exactly wash clothes in the middle of winter) and it appears that all the folks—older and disabled--are doing just fine after being thrown out into the frozen tundra for a short while and then escorted to the building next door. (One could not use the corridor to the next building which is like a first floor skyway because the firemen had cut that walkway off.)

Following this catastrophe, the selfish part of me is disconcerted however. My apartment is directly over THE GODDAMN laundry and I discovered that I have no cable TV. As the technically minded septuagenarian assistant-manager informed me: there was some problem with the wires! Well that explains everything. Which means I have no internet either; which means that I have no telephone since this $16 accoutrement I purchased from Target is attached to the PC.

As I write this during Prime Time on Monday whist my President is being re-sworn in as an HISTORICAL FIRST, it is something like 20 below with winds around 20MPH and that makes it -50F or something on the wind-chill index. It was so cold this afternoon that the thermometer outside the first floor office IS BUSTED so I am assuming the figures which I received second and third hand!

So basically I am stuck IN HERE forever (well not forever since the cable people promise to make repairs, maybe even by FRIDAY FOR CHRISSAKES). I am not going OUTTHERE and I have no way to communicate to anyone OUTTHERE and...

But I have electricity and my appliances all work and it is above zero inside (I mean it must be above 50 degrees F because I cannot see my breath or anything although I AM CURRENTLY WEARING ALL THE DAMN CLOTHES I OWN), but I digress...

I just happened to have ordered the NYT again at $16/month for six months which means I heard a swoosh at 2:00 AM and there magically was the Sunday NYT 6 hours before Armageddon.

So I have my Sunday Times and the five hundred gigabyte additional drive given to me by the late TPC. (And I must add that there is magic in this external hard drive. Magic I never TRULY understood until now, although I might get to this issue later on in another post.)

I am currently listening to a 21 song selection from the Beatles while I write this so I really have nothing to bitch about really. It is like I am living in 1965 with ACCESS to my own radio station. The only thing I am missing is some B&W with rabbit ears and access to three or four channels in order to complete the ambiance.

SAFE

What brought up this riff has to do with one of the hundred articles I read on real paper over the last 48 hours or so. (Or some memory of some other site?)

The article concerns itself with the super super rich and what they purchase to fulfill their 'needs'.

Now everyone's needs are a little different. For instance I do not need insulin or prescription drugs or a walker or oxygen tanks.

And when you think about it I do not 'need' cable or internet or a phone as long as I have five bucks in postage stamps I suppose.

The first 'purchase' that intrigued me with regard to this article involved some arsehole(s) who purchased his own live in ER.

He did not wish to expose his 'presence' to the unwashed present at all ER's around the world and he read up on all the germs and such present in ER's and the fact that many people die just walking by ER's let alone those who actually die walking INTO ER's today.

So just in case, he had his own ER built into his grand mansion, JUST IN CASE!

Now I was thinking:

HOW SAFE IS THAT REALLY?

What if this grand fellow comes down with a stroke or a heart attack or Shingles (see I watch too too much TV anyway) or a number of other ailments and one of the three nurses assigned to the GRAND ER has a nephew with the sniffles and does not think much about it and four or five viruses are now attached to the nurse's fingernails or uniform or shoes or nose or...

And now the guy with the stroke has just subjected himself to alien viruses and he coughs the wrong way and suffocates on his own mucus?

Or what if the grand fellow's butlers or gardeners or dog walkers or butt wipers or other contractor/employees (you seek if you have outside contractors you do not have to fool with the employer's share of withholding like SS, Medicare, Medicaid) happen to be carrying alien viruses?

Of course it is inevitable that the grand fellow's ancient aunt from Topeka shows up on a visit and has a stroke or something and he can get her treated in his newly created ER and he can smile with satisfaction that he saved the life of a wonderful lady and this event would never have happened if he had not been properly prepared!

Well enough of that prick (And why is he a prick? Well he is a prick because most multimillionaires contribute monies to hospitals to upgrade existing ER's and even contribute more monies in order to create new ER's for the greater good--and besides I do not have to like everybody.)

But even that prick did not present the most interesting story to me.

This other bugger had too much time on his bloody rich hands.

He did not like the fact that he needed to use the local ATM machine. I mean local various and sundry folks were always present at the public receptacle and he sometimes had to wait in line and....

So he came up with the master plan!

He had his own ATM installed in his mansion!

I mean how safe is that?

And now there are no lines and there are no lurkers with intent to loiter and now this gentleman can have all the cash he needs whenever he wants it! (Like the bank would not deliver bags of the stuff personally any time this prick needed it.)

I mean it is like this billionaire has his own safe; RIGHT THERE AT HIS OWN RESIDENCE!

Now if he had just purchased his own programmable safe and if he added some IPOD or something with no outside access SO that he could register the amount he withdrew or deposited and he could have a place to store his money and only he and his safe would know his secret code.

His code could be something like:

L-27; R-48; L-36; R-92

He would then have to put that code into some box at his bank where no one but his executor could access (or a conservator just in case he had a stroke or something and had not established his own ER at his residence!)

If he were to add some other safeguard like some security device that recognizes his thumbprint or scan of his right eye...well I do not have any idea what to do in the event of his death except for the executor to hire a master safe cracker.

The bank would then bring over some big bag of funds and he would sign for it and PUT THE DAMN BAG IN THE SAFE.

Instead, this is what I gather from this mess.

Now some bank contractors like Brinks or something must call on this supercilious prick every now and then AND FILL UP THE GODDAMN ATM MACHINE!

And all of his withdrawals will be monitored by the bank (who have his PIN number).

So now Brinks and a hundred or a thousand people at the bank know exactly how much money he withdraws from the ATM and how much money is put into the ATM.

Why does this bug me?

BECAUSE I AM BEING KEPT FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD AND I HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS!

Okay, now this Grand Vizier has his own goddamn ATM which I assume he keeps out of the reach of a hundred and more 'independent contractors' who are granted access to his grounds and now he has to worry about some home security system that was installed at his mansion following his receipt of the first ten million bucks in income from his prescription drug scam or stock manipulation or off shore tax evasion or whatever means he used to get that ten million bucks.

I am sure that this GV has viewed many movies from the recent past.

Do you think he pisses his pants as he watches MISSION IMPOSSIBLE I, II, III or a thousand other modern day cinematic wonders exposing the wonders of modern technologically educated felons and sees master criminals at work? Countless drama/thrillers demonstrate the ways of master criminals who can steal anything from anyone.

So now the GV must make sure that there is some GPS device on this ATM so that he always knows where the machine is in case it is stolen from right under his nose.

Except that qualified members of the public will also know where this ATM is at all times in order to better plan it's confiscation.

The good news is that the IRS will always know where the ATM is!

This reminds me of Bennett, the proselytizer, the glorious Christian, the defender of God, Faith, Country & Family and the one time adviser to Bush and Reagan.

Bennett has this (or had this) predilection for gambling. And of all models for the gambler, Bennett really distinguishes himself.

He loves the slots.

But if you go to Vegas you will have to sit amongst the masses and listen to the peasants scream such pleasantries as:

HEY WHAT DOES IT TAKE FOR A BODY TO GET A GODDAMN DRINK AROUND HERE?

So Bennett would reach an agreement with the more Ecumenical members of some super Vegas Gambling Hall before his sacred treks. A machine would be put in his room! Hahahahah

Of course he would have to make his own drinks!

But at least that Holy Sumbitch did not take the machine home with him. hahahahaha

I still cannot get over someone having his own ATM at his residence. The entire concept astounds me.

But getting back to the issue.

How safe is safe?

I end up spending 50 bucks a month for internet, basic cable and a telephone attached to the PC. When you compare that to the bills of most Americans with IPODS and HBO and super internet and pc security contracts; I am getting quite a deal. (Although I am not counting my 8 bucks for Netflix and now my 16 bucks for the NYT and full access thereto)

But if I get these 'discounts' by sticking with one company; when one damn thing goes wrong I am forever isolated.

How safe is safe?

I wonder if the ATM prick has two armed guards standing at his residence 24 hours a day?

I experienced that in Jamaica. A small group of us Americans rented an entire residence a mile or so from the sea shore and there were armed guards standing at all times in the back yard of this edifice with automatic rifles. I suppose nowadays the guards would wear have bullet proof vests and helmets besides carrying their AK-47's or whatever.

A nice way to welcome tourists on their fun and serene vacations!

I was thinking of all this on more of a personal note.

Most of us have one fridge.

But if it gets to be 90 degrees and the fridge breaks down; well you will lose all the stuff in the fridge within a day or two depending upon your air conditioning situation.

So I guess it might occur to someone that an extra fridge—just in case—would not be a bad idea.

I mean I always keep at least one extra roll of bathroom tissue around, just in case.

I wonder if the GV with the ATM thinks out loud at times:

What if my ATM misfires? Maybe I should get a back up—just in case!

And of course, what of the contingency of losing your residence in a fire?

Well, it might just do well to have a back-up residence—just in case.

I recall that in the 50's and the 60's the suburbanites with a little extra cash always had the 'cabin in the woods'. Of course that has evolved into grand escapes into the woods as it were.

And what if our country goes down the tube like Ron Paul and a host of right wing radio fanatics predict?

It might just be a good idea to have a 'back-up' country to escape to in the event of disaster!

The Grand Viziers and the Dukes and the Duchesses and the Earls and Earlesses (hear that?) and the Kings and the Queens will always be with us; along with their private armies.

Well that is all I got as far as this communist rant.

I must repair to another tab and get rid of the BeeGees or I might have a heart attack or seizure or something related to shingles. And did you realize that the BeeGees once had a back-up residence in Massachusetts...and evidently California too?

I cannot get that picture of Jimmy Fallon out of my head!