The Best Bargain Ever

October 5, 2025 / skidaz / Leave a comment

I spent this week fixing up my diabolical mess from last. The fallen trees were removed, the skylight was replaced, the air conditioner was serviced again, and my dog is doing better. Further, my wonderful landscaping service redid my front yard, and my cleaners made my interior immaculate. Needless, to say, it was a pricey week, but I also scored the best bargain ever.

How? My mom taught me how to shop long before the pandemonium for designer clothing and Labubu dolls. She clipped grocery coupons and dragged my sibs and me to Strouss’ basement’s sales. (If you were raised in Youngstown, Ohio, you’d know Strouss. It was an Ohio version of Nordstrom’s, particularly The Rack.)

The first Wednesday of the month at Phoenix groceries is Senior Citizen Day, where seniors get 10% off most stuff. I wandered into a high-end, signature store that not only sells food staples, but clothing, shoes, dishes, toys, and linens. Since I needed to kill some time before my next stop, I moseyed through the aisles and ended up in the shoe department which carries one of my favorite brands of cool tennis shoes. On the shelf was a sign: 90% Off. Damn! I looked at the shoe box–size 10. Too big for me, but not too big to donate. In fact, some teenage girl would probably adore these trendy, silver shoes to wear to homecoming.

I put the originally-priced $50.00 shoes in my shopping cart along with the rest of my groceries and checked out. I strode out of the store smiling, for I knew someone would delight in my best bargain ever: $1.34 including my senior discount. Move over 47. That was an “”art of the deal.” Who knows? It may be worthy of a Nobel Prize.

Thank You for Your Support

April 29, 2018 / skidaz / Leave a comment

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Yes, I stole this line from an old Bartels and Jaymes commercial. But it is apt. My brother, Bruce, and I want to thank you for your support of our first novel, Renato. It published several weeks ago on Amazon and on Kindle, and we’ve been very pleased with the response.

FRONT

Renato is a timely tale of three generations, which traces the enormous power of mob influence not only in commerce, but in politics. Dr. Andy Miller and his dog go for a walk the day after a Phoenix monsoon. The dog runs up the debris-littered wash and returns with a prize. Miller pries it from her jaws and discovers it is a human mandible. A mandible which will launch an investigation into organized crime, drug cartels, and American politics.

Set in Ohio, Massachusetts, California, and Arizona, this work of fiction has a strong element of truth. It was written after three years of research, interviews, and personal visits to verify its accuracy.

Some folk have already asked if there’s a sequel coming. Writing a novel is hard work. It sucks the authors in and takes over. Neither Bruce, nor I can promise the resurrection of Dr. Danny Sweeney again, but we’re currently working on a plot line. Time will tell, so until we meet again on Amazon, thank you.

BOOK

Absurdities: Mental Test and Open Shelving

May 14, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

What a week it’s been! As some of you know, I managed to survive a graceless fall which resulted in forehead cuts, a protruding bump, and two, black eyes. (You really didn’t expect me to show my face, but this picture depicts my current status.) I mopped up the blood, bandaged the wounds, and went to bed with a raging headache. Then it occurred to me, “Sue, are you mentally with it?” I asked my dogs aloud:

“What is your name? Sue Skidmore.”

“Where were you born? Youngstown, Ohio.”

“What year is it? 2017”

Well, this nonsense went on for a few more self-asked questions. Suddenly, it occurred to me if I suffered a head injury, how would I know? I could have said my name was Mary Jane Brown, born in Ames, Iowa, and the year was 1943. My dogs wouldn’t have objected. And if I was crazy, how would I know?

Given my astounding revelation, I practically fell off the bed with laughter. Absurd lunacy!

Then to add proverbial insult to my injuries, the next morning a guy came by to give an estimate on redoing my kitchen cabinets. Since the cabinets would have cost a fortune to replace, I hoped Andres would offer a less expensive alternative. He did. In my naïveté, I expected: “I’ll be back in three to six weeks to start this project.”

No. He retrieved from his truck his fancy battery-operated screwdriver and swiftly removed all the cabinet doors. I was busy dumping stuff from the drawers–stuff from several junk drawers I hadn’t seen in two decades! Damn, I’ve acquired a lot of scotch tape and too many bottles of the same spice.

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“Sue, it will take a couple of weeks for me to get this done.” Off he went with doors and drawers. Maybe I did have a head injury, for I spent half the day trying to close non-existant drawers and doors. A visual nightmare through half-swollen-shut eyes. Visual proof of my ineptness as a housekeeper.

Ok. I can survive this chaos. Until…I read this article today.

I don’t give a rat’s hind end about that trend at my age. Doors are made to keep out Phoenix dust and to make my kitchen look presentable at a party. Absurd lunacy!

BTW, I think my real name is Hucklebarrie Finn. I think I’ve floated down the mighty Mississippi in Hannibal on a number of occasions. I own 12 pair of scissors and 9 tins of cinnamon. I have over 20 coffee mugs, 15 random plates, three old skillets, and five aprons. (Aprons? I prefer a clothes change.) Message me if you’re in need of any of the above. Downsizing….

The Wall

April 30, 2017April 30, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

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The news runs rampant with stories of building a wall between Mexico and the United States. While the Berlin Wall and the Great Wall of China ultimately did little to prevent infiltration by the “enemy,” the proposed Trump Wall seems to many to be the answer. I find it curious, though, that Canada is not being walled out also. Guess it’s long forgotten that some of the perpetrators of 911 entered that way.

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Yesterday, I was leafing through my ancient English 101 anthology and reread Robert Frost’s Mending Wall. It begins: “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” In New England, the spring ritual for many landowners was to mend the wall that nature damaged throughout the winter. Though often a laborious task it was a necessary, annual tradition because “Good fences make good neighbors.” Hmm. I find it paradoxical. Nature battles against the wall. Tradition battles against nature to keep us and even countries apart.

When I moved to Phoenix, I was amazed that most houses had walled backyards. Unlike my Ohio upbringing, where I often roamed through three or four backyards to my friend’s house. We neighborhood kids sledded down our neighbors’ hill every winter; we weren’t walled out.

Unfortunately, I’ve met people with walls. Folk devoid of humor and zest. Folk who prefer to remain within their cramped life without friends and a sense of community spirit. Their self-imposed isolationism boggles me.

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True, I live in a walled community; it keeps my dogs off the street. Some of us with small children fence our pools to prevent child drowning. But my ‘hood has not walled out each other. We socialize, work collaboratively together, and even borrow a cup of sugar when the need arises.

Frost asks: “Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out.”

Robert Frost penned this poem 103 years ago. Hmm. Our world is no longer a simple fence on a New England acre. What are we mending? Another paradox….

You Saved My Life. No, You Saved Mine

April 24, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

While in my early 20’s, I took a graduate school course in educational philosophy and discovered I was an existentialist–make every decision as if it is your last decision. I embraced that idea, and thus, I never looked back with “would have, could have, or should have.” Further, I don’t suffer from “buyer’s remorse.” Once I make a reasoned decision, I don’t dwell on it. It’s the proverbial water over the dam, regardless of the outcome.

In 1983, I made the biggest decision of my life to date. I gave up my dream job, I forsook my rising political career, I left my family, and I followed my spouse to his fledgling company 2,500 miles across country. Now, my decision was not painless; I found myself far away from friends and my career. Admittedly, for a while, I suffered from depression. I had no job and no friends; my spouse worked 10-12 hours a day. I had no reason to get out of bed until noon. I didn’t shower for days at a time. My dog didn’t care I smelled in our tiny condo, and my spouse was too tired to care.

I slipped further into the depression abyss and wild thoughts danced through my mind. My local Ohio celebrity status was reduced to zero. No one in Scottsdale, Arizona, knew my name. Until….

I ventured to the condo complex pool. A much younger woman than I sat alone among the snowbird, winter visitors. We conversed; Julie, too, had moved from a small town in North Dakota to follow her spouse. She, too, had no friends, nor family. She, too, was a nobody like me.

Julie and I became fast friends; we shared secrets; we shared advice. She nannied for me when my eldest was born. When she and her family moved back to North Dakota 26 years ago, I missed her. I’d often wished we could at least chat about her sub zero weather as I picked lemons.

Last week, Julie and her husband came to Phoenix. When they arrived at my front door, she and I hugged and cried, “Sue, you saved my life.”

“No, Julie, you saved mine.”

Tie game.