It's Like I'm Finally Super-Preferred

So those of you who log on will have to do without today's newest pictures of Ben. I feel like just amusing myself with a few musings for the evening. 

When I sold Hondas a few years back, we had a status called "Super-Preferred." If you were classified as such, then you basically got the A-list rates on financing. When they advertise leasing and financing incentives, you usually hear them say with approved credit, or for well-qualified buyers. Well, Super-Preferred indicates that you are well qualified, indeed. 

So Friday, I was out working in my backyard, and I remembered that the dogs would need a space at the kennel next week while we visit my parents. So I pulled out my cell and called the vet. Yes, I have the vet on speed dial.  When you have a Lab with a pension for chewing indigestable objects and an adventurous Beagle, you need your neighborhood vet on speed dial. 

So I called - without identifying myself, and said I needed to board my dogs next week (next week being spring break). The receptionist hesitated and then said that they really didn't have any space. At that point, I said, "Well, it's Bailey and Annabelle, they can stay in the same run." 

She quickly replied, "Oh, we've always got room for Bailey and Annabelle. I didn't recognize your voice, Mr. Bunch."

It was as if I had arrived. As if, after twenty-two years of school, I was someone that people yielded to. Isn't that arrogant of me?

Now, I'm probably not super-preferred in the eyes of Honda American Finance. I'm probably not in a position to even be browsing the lot (relax, parents and in-laws...I'm not car shopping again...). But as far as my local Vet is concerned, I'm a safe bet. My dogs are well-behaved, well housebroken, and apparently a pleasure to be around. 

On to the next observation...

Tonight I was making a pizza for dinner. And yes, I meant making. We buy the plain pre-made crusts, then build the rest ourselves. My family has been doing this for years. And Jenny and I enjoy it. I know Ben will think it's fun one of these days. 

I like to control the amount of sauce on the pizza. I like it really thinly-spread. I hate globs of red pizza sauce making a mess all over my plates. And that got me to thinking about The Biggest Loser. 

I love seeing them go out to eat and try to be good. It is really ironic to see someone who is still 100 pounds overweight asking if the pasta is cooked in oil or water, or if they can have their veggies steamed instead of sauteed. The wait staff must think this is odd. I also think they probably go back in the kitchen and say something like, "Order In. Steam the veggies. Lard Butt at table 62 is worried about his saturated fats."