If you need me, why do you treat me so bad?

If the corporate community and federal and state governments are expecting me to help lift the country out of this recession/depression, they are all in for a long wait. If it's consumers like me, in similar circumstances, that will eventually signal a return to financial prosperity, then we are in for a few more years of rough sledding.

It's not that I am opposed to spending money and wouldn't be willing to do my part, but I've got nothing left to give. Every bit of my income out goes every month. I won't be further mortgaging my future with credit cards to stimulate the economy either. The banks have jacked up my interest rates so high and dropped my credit limits so far that there is not enough spare credit available to pay attention.

I am one of the fortunate ones. I still have a job, unlike an estimated 1 in 10 people in the country who are unemployed.

There is certainly stuff on my wish list of purchases to make. I could use a newer, more fuel efficient car, but that's way out of the budget. My daughter starts college in the fall, which strikes terror in my heart and my bank account.

Even more modest things are out of reach or have to be prioritized. My work and weekend wardrobes are getting threadbare. I need new shoes. Those are the type of purchases I used to put on a credit card.

To cope, I've made some lifestyle changes. I used to eat out for virtually every meal, spending about $70 to $90 a week on food. Now I try to eat at home whenever possible, eating as little as one meal a week outside the home. Of course my food budget was pretty modest before, so I'm not eating a lot of premium cuts or name-brand products and I try to not to let any food go to waste. I've also downgraded my cable service (and may still drop cable altogether. I'm also debating a change in cell phone and Internet services to reduce those bills every month and dropping my landline completely. But those will only leave a few more dollars available every month. Other unattractive, but increasingly prudent options include either seeking out a roommate or downsizing to a smaller apartment.

And those are just to get through the next few months or so.

So don't count on me to spend more, Uncle Sam. I am still looking for ways to spend less. I like to think I've learned the lesson of easy credit and getting over extended. I mean, this is what I'm supposed to do, right? Only spend the money I have?

I'm trying. But it's not going to help put my neighbors back to work so their paychecks can eventually come back to help ensure I will still have a job for the foreseeable future.

Maybe some of those banks that were too big should have failed and taken their bank records with them to oblivion. I would be willing to try living without the credit cards. I'm trying to now. But it would sure help to do without the bills too.

Sadly, to the banks, I'm not too big to fail. They seem to be betting on it. But it's a bet they win either way, because they are charging rates so high they have already made back their money, and then some.

She was my first, but I'm starting to see the light

We've been together a long time. We've covered a lot of ground together. I wasn't sure our relationship would last this long. Family and friends tell me I need to move on. But it's not that easy.

When we met, I'd only been in California a few months. She helped me get through my first long hot summer in the Mojave. We've been together ever since that July day in 1995. I was only 29 then. And, well, she was my first.

She was the first, and only, car I've ever bought new.

Well, actually she's a truck. A 1995 Dodge Dakota.

I traded in a car I loved, a 1988 Honda Prelude, for her. But the Honda didn't adapt too well to life in Southern California. Someone punched the lock and stole some stuff out of it. But that wasn't enough to jilt her. The real reason for the breakup was that she didn't come equipped with air conditioning. That hadn't been an issue when I was in college in Corvallis. It wasn't even much of a problem during summers in Eastern Oregon. It certainly was not a problem on the Oregon Coast. But in the Mojave, where, if memory serves, every day in July that summer was hotter than 110 degrees, it was a different story. No air conditioning was definitely a problem.

So I traded her in. I decided to get a pickup, because I was a long way from home, family and friends and didn't know many people in town yet. My dad always had pickups I could borrow. I had a Toyota pickup part of the time through college. I might need a truck in California.

As it turned out in the nearly 14 years since, I haven't really needed a truck all that often. But I still have her, and she's taken good care of me over the years. There have been a few bangs and scrapes with inanimate objects. And one little fender bender when I couldn't quite manage the clutch and brake fast enough at a stoplight. Not bad for nearly a decade and a half.

When I moved back to Oregon in 2005 I thought maybe that might be our last summer together. But there was really no room in the budget for a car payment, so we've stayed together. The relationship was strained when gas got up in the $4 a gallon territory. When I first bought her I could fill her up for about $15. At one point last year it cost about $75. That kept both of us close to home on weekends.

The truth is, she doesn't get all the attention she deserves because money has been tight. The new tires she got late last year weren't really in the budget either. But she and I were both glad she had them when she we needed to navigate snowy roads in December in and around Portland and Salem. The guy at Les Schwab warned me that the brakes were showing wear too, but I knew I couldn't afford that bill with Christmas coming.

But we may not be able to wait any longer. A couple of warning lights popped up on the dash yesterday. The ABS and brake lights are on, glowing steady, and I can feel the mushiness in the brakes. I am nursing them all I can, but I know there is a trip to the brake shop in my immediate future.

Tires, brakes. That's stuff that need to be replaced from time to time. But that's not the only trouble she's seen lately. Last year after watching my daughter play in the state golf tournament she refused to start. Her battery cracked and the acid damaged the cables and some parts in the engine compartment. She had to be towed to a repair shop. It was the second time she'd been in for repairs since we got to Oregon. She needs other work too. She needs shocks. The windshield has a nasty crack. She leaks oil.

And the odometer reads more than 130,000 miles. Not bad, given her age. But I'm not certain how many miles she really has left.

I never thought she'd carry me this far. Or this long. She's been a loyal and trusted companion. I'll miss her when she's gone. And I'll miss not having car payments. But I won't miss the repair bills. I guess I know where my tax refund is going this year.

Leave already, or I will

Dead Denny not only returned on Grey's Anatomy again this week, apparently dead people are amazing lovers. And even when Izzie spurned her ghostly lover, he still frickin' won't leave.

I may have to leave. The shark is in the process of being jumped. The concept was creative the first time I saw it, which Patrick Swayze's spirit used Whoopi Goldberg's body to ring Demi Moore's chimes. Now it's just tired.

We single men have enough pressure to deal with in trying to make women happy. Do we really need to compete with the screwed up notion of a love so true and powerful that a lover can come back from the dead to curl a woman's toes? What a stupid story line.

But I was recovering and feeling better when afterward I'm enjoying the show Life on Mars. I told myself that at least I have that to look forward to on Thursday nights, only to learn during the previews of the next new episode that the next new episode will not be on until Wednesday, Jan. 28. So, I get to wait two months and tune in a different night. Two months from now, I may have found something else to do with my time on Wednesday nights.

Network TV executives need to be shot. I'm more outraged by TV executives' decisions than people are about the big three from the Big Three automakers taking their private jets to Washington to beg Congress for a bailout. Those idiots make my credit card debt look like chump change.

But the morons running the networks -- canceling shows after only a few episodes, or only showing a few episodes of a show before taking an extended break --are going to wonder why their ad rates drop through the floor because no one is watching anymore.

Monday minutia

I broke down this evening and turned on the heat out in the living room for the first time this evening. I've turned on the heat a few nights back in the bedroom this season, and I've been turning on the space heater in the morning to heat up the bathroom for a while now. But I've been holding out on heating the main room But I'm tired of having to wrap up in a blanket and wear a sweatshirt just to watch TV or work on the computer.

I'm not looking forward to higher electric bills, but I HATE being cold.

***

I drove up to Portland last night in the fog. I got spoiled living in Southern California. I don't ever remember having fog there. I realized when I was driving home from Portland in the fog that If I have to drive in the fog I'd rather do it at night than during the day. You can see the taillights further up ahead at night than you can in the day. But still, driving in the ground mist is exhausting.

My eyes ached by the time I got home. By the time I went to bed I had a splitting headache. I'm not sure if driving in the fog contributed or not, but I'll blame it anyway.

***

I'm not pleased by all the Christmas displays and Christmas commercials on TV already. That stuff shouldn't start until after Thanksgiving. I swear the weeks from Thanksgiving to Christmas used to be plenty of a holiday season. My favorite radio station has even started playing the occasional Christmas song and promoting their website where you can get commercial-free Christmas music 24/7. I'm tempted to boycott the station until after the holidays.

But I know the real reason I hate the hard sell is I don't have money for many, if any, Christmas gifts this year. I don't need to be reminded of that every second of the day for the next 6 weeks. I had to by tires and still need an oil change and new brakes for the truck and new eyeglasses.

Merry Frickin' Christmas.

***

I took the plunge recently. I filled out a profile on an online dating site. I haven't used the site to contact anyone yet and the profile still needs work. But it's a first step. Right? That's progress. Right?

Your tax pennies at work

The check was in the mail. I got it this week. From the Oregon Department of Administrative Services. It was for a grand total of 80 cent.

I'm not sure if it's worth the gas to drive to the band to deposit it. The irony is the check is to cover mileage for my jury duty.

While I appreciate the gesture, I'm not sure as a taxpayer that I think the cost of issuing and 80 cent check and paying 31 cents postage was worth the effort. Who know what it cost for staff time, the cost of the check and envelope added onto the tally.

Shouldn't there be some sort of lower limit for the amount to which the state will issue a check to someone?

It's probably a good thing I don't work for the state, I might complain about such foolishness -- just like I'm doing now.

Then again, maybe a state job wouldn't be so bad after all. Our government doesn't seem to shy about pissing money away.