Caught

This year marked a new development in our Black Friday snowglobe hunt.

I got caught.

I was on my fourth time around when it happened. I'd left the store through a side exit and waited for a crowd of people before walking in again. I tried to blend in with them but it didn't work.

There was a bottleneck. I stood there two seconds too long. I was spotted.

The overly-cheerful JCPenney employee turned to me and slowly handed me a snowglobe.

"Second one?" he said, looking at me with a sly but knowing grin. I sheepishly accepted the snowglobe.

"I'm observant," he added.

Oh, I can't tell you how badly I wanted to say "Well, apparently not that observant, because this is actually my fourth one." But I kept my mouth shut.

Still, the family finished out the day with 11 snowglobes. I have no complaints.

I wasn't sure how well this year would go. The family has had a rough time lately and I was afraid the stress and need for sleep would keep my fellow snowglobe hunters in bed this year. We moved my grandmother to a nursing home this week after she spent a week in the hospital with what her doctor is calling late-stage Alzheimer's Disease. It's been a really hard time.

The family immediately balked last night when I reminded them that JCPenney opened at 4 a.m. They were tired. They wanted to sleep in. I said I'd be leaving the house at 3:45 and whoever wanted to join me was welcome.

My brother, Matt, was outside of my house when I opened the door at that ungodly hour. He and I drove to JCPenney where, to our amazement, a line was already forming outside.

I then had a call from my husband who was shocked that I left the house without him and said he'd be right there.

In all, I got four snowglobes and Matt and Rich each got two. I was happy with the eight, but later got a call from my dad who said he and Matt went back later on and they got another three.

I know it's a stupid tradition but for some reason, it means a lot to me. And I think it means even more to me this year when we're so worried about Grandma. It's nice to have some continuity in life.

Sundown

Getting thinner is usually a good thing -- but not when you're talking about my daily newspaper.

Last week the Baltimore Sun, my morning subway read, took another in its seemingly endless turns for the worst and completed an additional round of buyouts and layoffs. This cycle witnessed the loss of another 55 people.

Gone are the likes of Gregory Kane, Mike Himowitz, Roch Kubatko, Greg Garland, and John Wostendiek, as well as many behind-the-scenes players who kept the paper going every day.

Gone is a stand-alone business section.

And gone is any confidence a person could have in this once-great paper.

Yes, I'm more than just a casual news reader. I'm a media junkie, or maybe a media snob. But I also have a long history with this newspaper. I've been reading it every day since I learned to read. My very first job was selling subscriptions to The Sun.

And now, when I see an ad running on the front page of a this newspaper, I weep.

Who would have guessed that only a year after its inception, The Baltimore Examiner, the free daily tabloid, would become the big guy in town? And moreover, who would have thought it would happen due to the Sun's own self-cannibalism?

Had The Sun paid any attention to the growing popularity of the Internet, I doubt it would face such a predicament. Instead, it casts off its popular bloggers and scrambles to function with what's left. I really sympathize with the Sun staffers who must truly do more with less. I know some of them, and I know what they're facing.

At what point did it seem like a good idea for The Sun to turn its efforts to b, its youth-focused publication where an in-depth story gets no more than four inches? Every day, I face several b hawkers and I grow angrier and angrier when I think that this is how the Tribune Company views my generation.

Please believe me when I say that I really don't care about someones greatest pet peeve, as submitted by text message in less than 100 characters. I don't need the Cliff Notes version of your newspaper which amounts to little more than borrowed wire briefs and unattributed summaries.

Oh, the poor Baltimore Sun... or poor, as Sam Zell would have you believe. I'll keep reading you everyday like I have since I was in elementary school, but it'll never be the same.

Tap water, now new and improved!

Once again my dad is way ahead of his time. First it was free refills on soda and now it's Prozac in the water supply.

According to several news outlets, an AP investigation has uncovered prescription drugs in the drinking water of at least 41 million Americans. Apparently we've got everything from antibiotics to sex hormones coming out of our faucets.

Please -- my father came up with this idea years ago. He's advocated this for as long as I can remember. And, whether it's Prozac in the water supply or giving Valium to trick-or-treaters, who wouldn't benefit from a little mood enhancement?

I'm not sure I even understand what all the fuss is about in the first place. Prescription drugs have gotten ridiculously expensive. My water bill, on the other hand, remains surprisingly affordable. It sounds like the solution to the prescription drug crisis if you ask me.

But no. All of a sudden, the same Americans who waste their money on those fancy enhanced bottled waters are now worried about tainted H20.

Well gosh, thank goodness my daily liquid intake is 95 percent Diet Coke. I am a health nut, after all.

To breathe again

I couldn't be more excited for Maryland to go entirely smoke-free this Friday, February 1. I also couldn't be more conflicted.

For, you see, as much as I absolutely hate smoking, I also hate the thought of the Maryland General Assembly stepping in and mandating what legal activities its citizens can and cannot do.

I've been putting off writing about this because this is such a difficult issue for me to reconcile. My libertarian leanings tell me to be outraged at this invasion into people's personal choices and the rights of business owners to respond to what the public wants.

But, at the same time, I've always put smokers right up there with drunk drivers, child molesters, and people who end sentences in a preposition. Are these really people I want to protect?

I come by this hatred naturally. For as long as I can remember, my grandmother made me promise that I would never smoke even a single cigarette because cigarettes killed her father. Yes, she used the word killed. And because of that warning, I've never so much as touched a cigarette.

The other side of the family shouldn't be left out. One of my favorite stories from my Aunt Judy, my dad's younger sister, is when she visited my parents soon after they were married. My dad was in the kitchen washing dishes and she lit up a cigarette just to see what his reaction would be. Within a split second, he turned the faucet sprayer on her and hosed her down. So yeah, we're not exactly pro-smoking in my family.

The matter is further muddied because of my passionate support for the American Cancer Society, a group that championed the ban. I feel the need to celebrate my ability to enter bars across the state without choking and reeking of smoke for hours after I leave. But I will only do so with a feeling of ambivalence.

What will you be doing this Friday as Maryland goes smoke-free? Regardless of your carcinogenic leanings, I hope you will consider dining out at one of the restaurants below that will be donating a portion of its proceeds to the American Cancer Society to mark this important milestone.

Restaurants participating in Dine Out for Relay For Life:

Bayou Blues Cafe at the Avenue at White Marsh (15% of sales, 4-6 p.m.)
Pizzeria Unos at Harbor Place (20% of sales all day.)
Greene Turtles across the state (10% of their sales from 11a.m.-2 p.m.; The Fells Point and North Ocean City locations will be donating 10% of their sales all day.)

My find of the week

Every once in a while I come across a website that's so cool that I absolutely must share it. FillerItem.com is one of them.

Do you ever go to buy something on Amazon and find that you need to add another dollar or five to qualify for free shipping? Filleritem.com solves that problem for you.

Just enter in the amount you need to reach the $25 mark for Super Saver Shipping and select which categories you want to search. It'll pull up a whole list of options for you.

I needed another $1.15 to get free shipping and FillerItem.com found me a four-pack of AA batteries for just $1.29. Had I found this website yesterday, I would have saved myself at least an hour of searching.

BS scores 14 in rout over JCP*

With a powerful offense, the BS team managed a successful 14-snowglobe haul in its 2007 Black Friday Classic, besting last year's total by one.

The trio came late to the game this year, not starting until 4:30, despite JCPenney's unprecedented 4 a.m. start time. The calculated risk paid off, however, with the team utilizing the crowd to its advantage.

Averaging 4.6 carries each, the team started off slowly with a one-by-one approach, coming up with three on the first drive. They returned for an additional two each, with Matt and Alisa each going hard for the fourth.

JCPenney put up a good defense, again limiting distribution to just one entrance. This year they strengthened the line, using an untested three-man block pattern.

The new strategy proved tough, forcing the BS team into a huddle just before halftime and ultimately resulting in a detour to Boscov's.

Rested again after the half, BS came on strong as it shed hats and glasses in a last-ditch strike. Alisa went back for the extra point and Matt "the vacuum sleever" followed up with a two-fisted grab at a temporarily unguarded table, bringing to total score to 14.

"It was a total team effort," Matt said at the post-game wrap-up at Staples. "We didn't want to run up the score, but I'm really proud of the way our guys hung in there."


*With apologies to my husband, who will undoubtedly criticize my sports analogy. I promise to leave the sports coverage to you in the future.

Maryland's 11 best days of summer

I'm such a sucker for the state fair. I love the food, I love the baby animals, and I especially love the chance to step right up, spin a wheel, and win a free pencil. It's like trick-or-treating for adults.

But what I really love is the fact that the fair doesn't change from year to year. It's the same exact tacky end-of-summer tradition I enjoyed as a kid.

The same attractions are always in the same place. The world's smallest woman is right across from the jacuzzi sales people. The bored state employees sit in the exhibition hall, fingers crossed and hoping that an altercation will break out over at the Jews for Jesus booth.

And in a cruel yet natural circle of life kinda way, the fresh pit beef is always right across from the cow palace.

Ah, the food. I mustn't leave out all of that yummy, patently unhealthy but oh-so-aromatic fair food. First you have your choice of meat, meat, and more meat. Add to that your choice of any deep fried anything on a stick and it's a veritable choose-your-own-heart-attack. Remember: Fudge isn't truly decadent until it's been deep fried.

Now this year I managed to experience a part of the fair I've never seen before -- the 4H livestock auction. I like my meat as much as the next non-vegetarian, but the auction was a bit more in-your-face than I would have liked. I can honestly say it's the first auction I've been to where they promise to "process" your purchase before delivery. Poor little rabbits.

But hey, Of course I'd be lying if I said I didn't love seeing all of the animals, even if I do have to ponder their demise. One of my favorite parts of the fair has to be the animal birthing area. I wasn't lucky enough to witness any of the little guys being born this year but I did catch a few calves and piglets who were born within the last day.

(Fun fact: Piglets grow at a rate of two lbs. per day. This is the same rate of growth I experience in the month of December.)

The end of the fair is always bittersweet. As a huge fan of fall, I'm glad to see summer fade away. But I will miss my chocolate covered frozen strawberries on a stick. You just can't find those at the Apple Butter Festival.

No antiques at this roadshow

There's nothing like public television to tell you you're worthless. As if the pledge drives don't make you feel bad enough.

"Today's great programming has been made possible by viewers like you," they tell us. Yes, I know I'm a freeloader. I like it that way. Don't try to make me feel guilty. Now go back to the 10th anniversary of Les Miserables please.

But I digress.

Today I'm talking about Antiques Roadshow, the quirky little show-that-could that took up residence at the Baltimore Convention Center this past weekend. I was one of the few lucky enough to win tickets.

Let me rephrase that. I was one of the 3,400 given the opportunity to spend four hours standing on a hard concrete floor while lugging around items that may or may not be worth something. But even though all of our items fell into the latter category, it was kinda neat.

As soon as I found out we had the chance to go, I knew I would have to check out the treasure trove that is my grandparents' house. They have dust older than I am. So just as expected, trustworthy Grandma and Grandpa came up with a handful of interesting pieces for us to take.

The first two things we selected came from my great-grandfather's jewelry store. My grandmother's father, Anton Horvat, came to the U.S. from Hungary in the early 1900's. A professional jeweler, he set up shop on Charles Street in Baltimore. When the Great Depression hit, people brought in anything and everything made of metal to pawn for enough money to make it through the week.

A tea caddy, made by J.E. Caldwell & Co. of Philadelphia and engraved with the year 1906 on the bottom, is one of those items. According to my grandmother, the piece is a repoussé which I've since learned is a fancy way for describing an old technique of forming metal. The silver expert said the tea caddy should be worth about $100. It's a neat little thing and I wish I had an actual use for it. In the meantime, it's perfect for sitting on a shelf somewhere.

The other piece of metal work we took in is one that I've always liked -- a card case, like women used to carry back in the 1800s. The appraiser said it's in really good condition and indicative of the interest in the culture of the Far East. The piece, engraved with initials and May '88 (presumably 1888) is said to be worth in the neighborhood of $400. I'm actually tempted to use it as a business card case but chances are I'd set off too many metal detectors.

My great-grandmother's purse turned out to be the big disappointment of the day when we learned that it's actually worth less than any bag you could buy at Coach. The intricate hand-stitching is beautiful but apparently a lot of people thought so too and they made tons of them. Because of that, they're a dime a dozen. Well, technically they're not a dime a dozen. Specifically, it would go for somewhere between $60 and $80.

The last thing from my grandparents that we took along was a set of African mask bookends. Unfortunately, the story surrounding the bookends is worth much than the bookends themselves. My grandfather's parents ran a tavern in Baltimore back in the 1930s and 1940s. Apparently some sailors came into port and spent the day flirting with my great-grandmother and running up a bar tab. They used these bookends, said to be from their world travels, to pay off the bill.

According to the appraiser at the tribal art section, the bookends are nothing more than reproductions made for tourist purposes. He said that between 1920 and 1960, you could find these in most places up and down the coast of Africa. Still, they're worth about $150. Plus, they've graced my grandparents' end tables for the past 50 years so that counts for something.

Finally, the one piece I thought was worth the least -- a small pin/pendant Rich's step-dad found years ago on a parking lot -- turned out to be worth the most. What I thought had to be fake actually turned out to be diamonds worth $400. I tried my hardest to take a picture of the pin but the sparkly diamonds defeated my best efforts.

So while we didn't exactly fare well at Roadshow and never made it on camera, I definitely look forward to tuning in come January for the highlights of the Baltimore stop.

And remember PBS: Maybe if my stuff was actually worth something, I could afford to donate a few bucks and snag myself one of those cool tote bags.

I've become one of them

I took a step this week in joining the 21st century. I finally bought an Ipod.

I figured it was time. I mean hell, even the Luddite Society made mock of me in its most recent podcast.

And in addition to that (which didn't really happen), I have a five-hour plane ride to Las Vegas this weekend aboard Southwest Air, where they offer cheerful flight attendants in lieu of in-flight entertainment. You all know I don't do cheerful.

(Side note: Don't even think of robbing my house while I'm gone this week. We have a top-notch security system complete with sensors and alarms and crap. Even more threatening is that my dad will be there, in his underwear, trying to figure out how to work the Tivo.)

Anyway, Apple recently released its new generation of Ipods so I decided I'd finally cave. They claim there are all kinds of new and improved features on this generation of Ipods. I opted to keep it simple and went for the 4GB Ipod Nano. It's silver and very cute.

As much as I'd like to write more right now, I need to go load more music onto my Ipod. So far I just have a bunch of Barenaked Ladies stuff and several Broadway musical soundtracks and I will not have Billy Joel feeling left out.

I've got breaking news, people.

This morning I wrote about how glad I was to have all this Hunt Valley nonsense behind me. (See "Check and check, below.) That was until we got the letter today that accompanied our $90 refund check. You may wish to read my entry below first.

Please note that I have posted the letter exactly as written... bad grammar and all. I resisted adding my own comments, thinking it would be better to let Mr. Royston's words speak for themselves.

Here is the letter:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. S*****,

Enclosed is a refund check for $90.00 for the New York trip of June 18, 2006. I don't believe you should expect a refund or even a portion of a refund for your trip to New York on Friday June 16. There was no problem with that trip, so your 40% analogy makes no sense. I understand your frustration over the events of June 18. Contrary to what you may believe, you were not the only passengers who were put out. Fortunately the majority of our customers, both frequent and first time, were more understanding. Of course, standing in New York City, in the heat, it never came to mind what we went through to accommodate and solve this problem. From the moment we were made aware of the situation, at least two people were on the phone trying to find a local motor coach to get you home as fast as possible. We also had a bus leave Hunt Valley immediately, in case we couldn't find help. It happened to be the final round of the U.S. Open golf tournament at Winged Foot in New York, so finding a bus was not easy.

We have contacts all over in the event of a breakdown. What more emergency procedure would you recommend? We found a bus as soon as we could and got it to the location. As far as your "hero" cop is concerned, it was the police who had the bus moved to the overpass and would not allow it to be moved again until another bus arrived. For as many good trips to New York you have made on our buses, it is a shame that you complain so adamantly and judge our service on the "one" bad experience. Perhaps it is a good thing that you have started traveling to New York with someone else. We work hard to keep our buses in the best condition that we can, and to suggest that we are not concerned about you and every customer's business and enjoyable experience is ridiculous. It is only a matter of time before you have a bad experience on another motor coach. I believe that you will find by comparison, we do a great job.
Ed Royston, President
Hunt Valley Motor Coach

So, there you have it. That's how Mr. Royston treats good customers. I'm glad I learned that relatively easily. It would have been a real pain to be stuck on the side of a road in a snowstorm. Darn, there I go thinking about myself again.

Check and check

Finally the Hunt Valley Motor Coach saga comes to a close. The Consumer Protection Division in the Attorney General's Office came through for us. Thanks to our dedicated and tenacious volunteer mediator, we should be receiving a check for $90 in the mail today.

A brief recap for those of you who haven't been following our bus drama: On the way back from New York City several weeks ago, the Hunt Valley bus caught fire and left us stranded for hours on an overpass somewhere in New Jersey. The bus company was less than accommodating when we asked for compensation, offering a mere $20 per person for our trouble.

When our two letters to the company's owner went unanswered, we filed a complaint with the AG's office for mediation. A mediator began working on the case yesterday morning and within an hour, had a faxed copy of a check made out to us in his hands.

I'm glad Hunt Valley agreed to mediate with the AG's office and obviously I'm pleased they decided to refund us the $90 we requested, but I don't know how soon we'll travel aboard Hunt Valley in the future. Rich has an upcoming jaunt to Atlantic City where he will be taking Superior Tours and I think we're going to give Gunther a try as well. We took Golden Ring last time around.

So what lessons can we learn from this experience? First, if you run a business, respond to your customers' concerns, especially if they're good customers. Had Hunt Valley refunded our money up-front, we could have avoided all of this hostility and probably booked another trip without thinking. Now, who knows?

Next, the mediators in the Consumer Protection Division may just be volunteers, but they're still dedicated public servants who really give a damn.

And finally, the most important lesson of all -- Don't piss me off. (But you already knew that.)

It's up to you Hunt Valley, Hunt Valley

Let me begin by saying that we had an absolutely wonderful time in New York City last weekend. It was just the ride back that wasn't quite so nice.

As brilliantly depicted, at left, in an original Uncle Louis rendition, um, well, the Hunt Valley Motor Coach tour bus we were riding caught fire.

It happened soon after we pulled out of the Lincoln Tunnel, heading home. A bunch of drivers around us starting honking and pointing at the underside of the bus. The driver pulled over by the first off-ramp and said everybody had to get off because the bus was on fire. We could smell the smoke.

This is where the fun started. We were towards the back of the bus and a bunch of people ahead of us starting making a big deal about getting all of their shopping bags out. So we're standing there, the bus on fire, while a few women tried to get their Macy's bags together. I eventually convinced them to move their asses.

(There was one guy, by the way, who refused to get off the bus. He sat there until the police made him get off.)

So we stood on the side of the road while the fire department put out the fire. Then they loaded us back onto the bus and towed us to an overpass where we waited in the hot sun for another two hours until they could get another bus for us. One of the Secaucus police officers was kind enough to buy a case of water for the parched passengers. We eventually made it home sometime after 1 a.m.

But perhaps more upsetting than the actual incident is Hunt Valley's poor customer service in dealing with it. In short, they were nonplussed, offering a mere $20 in compensation per passenger. They acted as if it happens all the time.

Only a few days later did I learn that, apparently, it does happen all of the time. Three days after our trip, another illustrious piece of the Hunt Valley fleet, this one leaving St. Louis, caught fire.

My phone calls to Hunt Valley have gone unreturned and a letter is on its way to the bus company's owner. Being the frequent customers that we are, you'd think they'd want us to be happy.

So what will Hunt Valley do? Will the company do the right thing and offer each person a free trip? Will they pay back the kind police officer who bought us bottled water? Time will tell. And when it does, I'll tell you too.

Beware the gift cards of December

Ah, tis the season for gift-giving and for a lot of us, that means gift card giving. Let's face it... they're easy and it's hard to go wrong. They seem to be the one thing that's good both to give and receive.

But to make sure your thoughtful gift doesn't turn into a lump of coal, you need to be a savvy consumer. At present, there aren't any laws in Maryland specifically aimed at gift cards and the retailers know this. Because of that, the gift cards you buy may have hidden fees and secret expiration dates. By the time great aunt Sadie goes to use her gift card at Victoria's Secret, there might not be enough left on the card for her ultrasmooth low-rise string bikini.

The General Assembly did, thankfully, address gift cards last year and passed some basic legislation on the matter. Still, that law doesn't take effect until July 2006, if at all. Retailers are expected to do some heavy lobbying this session to see to it that they don't have to abide by any rules at all.

Basically, the new law would make it so that the gift card cannot expire or charge fees in the first three years and requires certain disclosure should such conditions exist after that time.

Even in its current form, last session's legislation doesn't go far enough. For instance, the new law only applies to individual retailers and not mall gift cards. Similarly, gift card issued by banks or credit card companies are excluded from the new law.

One final thing to consider: You don't have much recourse if you buy a gift card or a gift certificate to a business that shuts down or files bankruptcy. If you charge the purchase you may be able to dispute the charge with your credit card company but otherwise, you're probably out of luck.

This information should not discourage you from buying gift cards because hell, we all love them. Instead, you just need to make sure you know what you're giving and getting. Happy shopping.

The cure for Coach envy

I'm a simple girl. Practical. Frugal. I don't need anything fancy. In fact, I've always mocked people who insist on designer labels when another brand is just as good.

And yet I found myself with Coach envy. Perhaps it's because I spent the weekend with a group of girls who all were Coach adorned, or maybe it's that weekend my co-workers forced me to go to the Coach outlet in Rehoboth. Perhaps I've just been spending too much time on BCG listening to all this purse talk. In any case, I wanted one and I'm ashamed.

Now what do I do? Do I give into my desires and splurge on something I may later regret? Or do I hold my ground and pretend I'll be happy with my Target bag? Hardly.

Instead, I came up with a plan. I will buy a Coach bag if, and only if, I can get a really good deal. I'll check the outlets and eBay. See if I get a good deal, then it's not like I'm a hypocrite. It's just that I'm taking advantage of a bargain and nobody could blame me for that, right?

Two weekend treks later, I have my Coach bag and I'm very satisfied. It was on a big sale and cost less than half of its original price. It's even cheaper than I could have gotten it for on eBay. Heck, they practically paid me to take if off their hands... their nicely-manicured, well-adorned, hands.

Now I just need a wallet to match...