WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA

"Follow the dots, eat the dots. Follow the dots, eat the dots."

"Ooops, turn around, Clyde's on my tail. Here comes Inky...... gotta get ahead, gotta get ahead."

"C'mon dude, move it, move it....."

"Yes, a power pellet! HA HA! Time to eat me some ghosts"

How many times have I said any of the above, I wonder.

How many miles of arcade screen did I drive that little yellow dude, I wonder.

Alot. Many quarters worth. But it has always been fun, whether in it's original form, the super-sized version, or even the Ms. version.

I had Pac Man fever for many years of my youth.

When I was in college, I had an HP-48SX graphic calculator on which I installed Pac Man (along with Joust, Tetris, and a few others).

No matter what computer I have had, I have always had a version of Pac Man on it.

My wife and I were recently in Myrtle Beach for a few days - and the morning we were checking out, as I was on my way to get a luggage cart, I noticed a Pac Man machine in the game room. I just happened to have a couple quarters in my pocket.

So I used them.

The joystick felt the same - like it and my mind instantly connected and became one for the nth time.. Like some sort of arcade Jedi. Use the force Brian, let it guide your Pac Man.

I felt like I was six again. I burned through about a dollars worth of quarters and then wandered on to get the luggage cart, disappointed I was out of change.

I grew up on Pac Man. We used to line up to play it in the arcade at the YMCA where I spent many afternoons of my youth. I listened to the song. I watched the Saturday morning cartoon.

And I celebrated his 30th birthday today. Happy birthday little yellow dude!

I'm Not Happy, And I'm Drawing A Line in the Sand

Upon pulling up to the gas pump this evening to our vendor of choice I noticed the dreaded sticker.

"This product may contain up to 10% ethanol" ... or something along those lines.

If there was anybody nearby, they probably didn't hear anything rosy come out of my mouth. I didn't notice. I was too mad.

Ingles has gone Ethanol.

They are now off my list of approved gasoline retailers.

And they will be getting a nice letter in the mail from me this week explaining my disgust in their decision - outlining why I believe they have succumbed to corporate peer pressure, perpetuated by big-oil and the almighty dollar and calling them out on their lack of concern for their customer.

The question I really have to ask is "Why do companies feel the need to take advantage of consumer ignorance in order to make money?"

That's what this is about.

Ethanol-blend costs less for the refineries, the oil companies, and therefore the resellers, i.e. in this case Ingles. Therefore said retailer, i.e. in this case Ingles, is able to sell it at a lower price than regular gasoline.

Customers flock to the place with the lowest price gas. The retailers get an influx of money coming in from those customers who want to save money.

And then they will end up taking that money they saved and spending it on even more gas to fuel their vehicle because their gas mileage sucks because they're running ethanol blend fuel. Their engine and fuel system pays the price in wear and tear also.

Most consumer don't know this. They're ignorant of the fact because that's not something the oil companies or gasoline vendors want people to know, and the media tend to not report on because those same companies spend advertising dollars with that media.

But if I have to go out of my way and be inconvenienced by the distance to the three regular gas vendors in my area, I will.

Ingles, you will no longer receive my money for gasoline. You may have lower prices on food. Hey, that's good. I'll buy your food. But I will not buy your gasoline.

Not until you switch back to tried and true regular, non-ethanol, gasoline.

You had me at regular unleaded. Now you lost me at ethanol. You suck.

I've ranted about the whole ethanol-blend vs. regular unleaded issue before. Read this

It's not like it really got me anywhere. Or will get me anywhere. That's one reason I'm so mad.

I guess if I have to go out of my way to avoid giving you money for your lousy product, I will. That's another reason why I'm really ticked off.

But I will go the extra physical miles down the road and give that same money to your competitor.

So, Ingles, here's my line in the sand (or red clay, as you find in this neck of the woods) - which I refuse to cross. You're going to have to cross it on your own by mending your ways and dumping your corn-blend gas.

As you can tell, I am not a happy camper right now.

I'm Back

3 months. Almost to the day.

A tri-mester for human gestation.

A quarter of a year.

2064 hours, give or take.

Enough time for some of the worst legislation in U.S. history to be passed.

It's not that I haven't wanted to get back on here. I have a few times. I do this, or rather, I've done this a few times. Although I don't think that ever it has gone this long.

Call it a creativity funk. Call it laziness. Call it preoccupied with life and other things.

But I've had some ideas ramping up over the last few days so I finally decided to put them to the keyboard.

So here goes....