I was chatting with a client about how sedentary our culture has become and about how our grandparents didn’t have to go to gyms – they got plenty of exercise doing everyday things like working in the yard, cleaning the house and shucking corn for god’s sake. They actually USED their lower appendages for walking, whereas I sometimes eye mine suspiciously waiting for them to make the first move. So anyway, It occurred to me that people don’t need fancy gyms, they just need to get up and DO stuff! Some of you are probably asking yourselves, “How can humans do manual labor when most of us get winded just putting on our pants?! And who in the world does things for themselves anymore?”

The Amish do…that’s who.

Say what you will about their Flowbee-like hair cuts and apparent dislike of color, these folks work their asses off. My new business plan doesn’t include rent and there’s no overhead. All I need to do is find some people who need a bunch of crap done and there you go – all the fresh air, sunshine and basal cell carcinoma they can handle.

Having a direction got me pumped up and ready to get started. The perfect workout AND the joy of helping others all bound together in one cozy little package of fluffy feel good…mmm! So here’s just a few examples of my work out videos that will undoubtedly have Guthy-Renker adding me to the payroll. You know I’m right.

Melissa’s Kick-Ass Amish Workout! This is a 5 DVD set for one LOW PRICE! Here’s what you get:

Barn Raising Cardio
Cinnamon Crunches For Your Abs
Yoke The Oxen and Lose the Fat
Shunning The Pounds Away
Stoning Your Neighbors For Fun & Fitness

You get ALL this for the freakishly unheard of price of just $19.95 OR 13 easy payments of $1.53! This offer is only available in Canada and a few impoverished areas of Africa, so pick up the phone and call now! If you call within the next 9 minutes we’ll also throw in Melissa’s newest DVD – Stop Drop and Roll In The Hay.

Limited quantities so act fast!

Oh, they’re sure.

I decided rather quickly that I needed to voice my displeasure and so I didn’t bother to spend a whole lot of time choosing my words carefully or even attempting to be a grown up about it. I pretty much just vomited my disgust via an email to Brian Moynihan, CEO & President of BOA.

FUN FACT #1! Brian Moynihan’s annual income is $6,511,468.00 (2009) (That’s 128 times the average US income!) and his daily compensation is $17,839.64!

So anyway – gross display of greed aside, here’s what I had to say:

“I need some clarification about these new fees. First of all, what happened with the bail out money? And when did it become the customer’s problem because the banks made bad decisions? I understand that the percentage rate on merchant transactions is being reduced and you and the other banks would like to “recoup” that loss by passing it on to your customers – but again how is that our fault? So your profit margin won’t be as high as you would like it to be and perhaps you won’t get a raise and will have to squeak by on just a few million, but you shouldn’t have to alter your lifestyle too much – Maybe a little less sushi here and there and you sell the yacht on CraigsList.

It seems to me that if you are essentially BORROWING other people’s money to invest and make MORE money for yourselves you should be giving US something. Not the other way around. Don’t bill me for borrowing MY money and don’t bill me for using a debit card to access MY OWN MONEY.

WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU GUYS????”

And get this zinger! Someone from Brian’s office actually called me the next day to “discuss” my email. I interpreted that to mean that they wanted to sing me some banking blues and to be honest I didn’t think I was up to it. However, since I had another issue to discuss with the bank regarding my free savings account having a maintenance fee taken out, I decided I could kill two birds with one stone.

I spoke to Matthew from the OFFICE of the CEO of Bank of America – close enough. He apologized for the way in which customers had found out about the fee. I’m not sure why he was sorry for that – it wasn’t like we were chlorophormed, pulled into a dark room with a strobe light and loud Carpenters music playing while they piped in subliminal banking propaganda into our ear buds. I for one had no problem with the delivery of the news just the content. After 30 minutes of talking to Matthew I learned that “banks are in the business to make money.” You don’t say! I had no idea! Next we talked about my savings account which has been changed twice to a different type of savings account than the one I signed up for, but Matthew cleared that up as well. He explained that the bank realized they weren’t making money off of my free savings account and that they were forced to change it. Although no one called or sent a letter to this fact, Matthew said it was probably sent with my online statement.

“M’am the changing of your account without your consent was clearly stated in Summerian cuneiform on page 149 of your online statement. Failure to read your online statement could result in a fee.”

There seems to be a real issue with the bank’s ability to communicate with its customers – I guess they can’t find the right words to let us know that they don’t care if we are struggling and trying to make ends meet when they have profit margins to think about.

I’m pretty sure this new $5.00 fee won’t have me living on the streets but since I don’t make anywhere close to 6.5 million I think I would rather BOA sacrifice it’s income goals for the year and give me a break instead.

FUN FACT #2! Brian’s direct email is: brian.t.moynihan@bankofamerica.com

If you have never HEARD of Schlitterbahn then it sounds like a dream! Acres and acres of water slides, roaring rapids and lazy rivers that have you floating around rocks and through majestic trees. Parents and children sitting under 200-year-old live oaks eating a picnic lunch and giddy about all the swell fun they will be having. The smell of Turkey legs and funnel cakes hangs in the air, people are dancing to music blasting over the loud speakers and every now and then a delighted child goes bobbing past – and you have to smile.

THE REALITY:

Having actually BEEN to Schlitterbahn, or as I like to affectionately call it, Shitter-bahn – the truth lies somewhere between my Willy Wonka-like vision and a riotous angry mob of sweaty adults and urine-soaked children. First of all, the park is really three separate parks – two of which are located several blocks away from the “original” park. The best thing about the original park is that there are lots of trees and shade. The worst thing about the original park…is the smell, which reeks of mildew and trash cans. The park was built in 1966 and I feel certain that NOTHING has been power washed, painted or deodorized since then. Due to the lack of signage, we spent a great deal of time asking for directions to things. While the park is a decent size, it’s so compact and nestled into the trees that I half expected to see Bilbo Baggins sitting on a mushroom passing out maps.

The newer side of the park, while open and much less claustrophobic, had a frenzied B movie vibe. I wrestled a tube away from a little girl who looked like she had barely escaped the jaws of a prehistoric sea creature and hopped onto my float before I was quickly absorbed into the torrent river of screaming maniacal faces. What I thought was going to be a nice “lazy river” with a few waves rolling in was a bit like rats being flushed out of a sewer. Cumulatively, we all merged into an enormous vinyl mass of suffocating panic. Mothers were clawing at the water trying to grab their children before they were sucked under and lost for good – the whole scene was more like a naval rescue mission than a water park feature. Add to this the “bicycling” music from the Wizard of Oz and some strategically placed fun house mirrors -THEN the insanity effect would be complete. Two hour wait times and soggy artery clogging food between your toes – I gave this park 1 star, but only because I didn’t come home with an intestinal parasite.

In Alicia’s defense, we were new to this particular restaurant so she didn’t know to be dripping with sweet, oozy, delight as she approached our table. She also didn’t know, that despite my racoon-like obsessiveness with clean hands, that we prefer to eat with silverware. Anyway, I’m not sure what octave she was speaking in when she asked what we would like to order but I remember seeing the water in my glass vibrate slightly. Honestly, she had a freakishly high pitched voice that made it impossible to understand what she was saying most of the time so I just nodded a lot. Which explains why I ended up with all you can eat fried pickles and a carafe of limeade.

For the duration of our meal, Alicia must have checked in on us no less than 7 or 8 times. She never actually stopped AT our table but merely squeaked out an inaudible question as she darted past us on her way to another table. So I just nodded and shortly there after she came back with another basket of pickles. My request for more tea however, rendered her speechless and perplexed. So with my best impression of a porpoise I managed 2 or 3 clicks and a suitable enough squeal. With that she rushed off and grabbed a coffee pot. Oh well – at least it was caffeine.

Our meal ended and being the neat freak that I am I took it upon myself to stack my sugar packets, napkin, unused lemon wedge, straw wrapper, a couple of chickpeas that fell off my salad and piled it on top of my plate. I then leaned back in my chair and continued sipping my cold coffee when Alicia came by took a look at my plate, looked at me and said, “Are you still working on this?”

Yes – yes I am. Could I get some ketchup?

Angela is what I call a neurotic sleeper. All sounds, no matter how varied and distinct, are indications of an intruder coming into our house. The ice maker is someone breaking in through a window; the washer is someone kicking down the back door and the newest sound that signifies home invasion is the rattling noise made by the air filter when the A/C cuts off.

In Angela’s defense, the air filter does make quite a ruckus – its location in the ceiling right outside the bedroom makes it all the more alarming when your in a deep sleep. To her unconscious mind the air filter denotes danger. She immediately springs to her feet- her eyes not even open and in a voice that sounds like the moan of cat in heat, she yells “WhhAAAt isssss thaaat nOIsssse??!! “Jesus Angela! You are going to seriously give me a heart attack!” She just stands there looking apologetic while I check to make sure I haven’t soiled myself. “I’m SORRY, I just thought someone was in the house.” YES…I KNOW”, I said. “Now hand me my nitroglycerin and go back to sleep.”

The next 3 nights went something like this:

Tuesday:
“MELISSA!!!! Someone’s in the house!”
“Its the filter.”

Wednesday:
“Ahhh!!! What was THAT!!”
“It’s the filter.”

Thursday
“OH MY GOD!!! I heard a door slam!!”
“It’s the filter.”

So. I am now taking a proactive approach and I try to give Angela subliminal suggestions except they really aren’t that subliminal since I say them to her when she is wide awake and staring me in the face. “Tonight – the loud and intrusive sound – is just the AIR FILTER. Try to stay calm.” So far it seems to be working but I have a lot of work ahead of me – I just have to convince her that the ice maker means her no harm.