After 40 years as a computer programmer and game developer—and the passing of his wife of 47 years—Rick has retired and is now living in Ye Olde Folks Home, where he still tinkers with tech and likes to write these amusing and/or thoughtful tales about his storied life.

First Chapel Service at Ye Olde Folks Home
A Yearly Ritual at Menards
“Mr. Loftus, the Town Hero”
The FCAL Project
Pepe Le Pew Finds New Lodgings
In Memoriam: Dale Lear
Bingo Bedlam at Ye Olde Folks Home
There’s a Shortage of Perfect Movies…
One Day at the DMV
A Visitor from Microsoft
“He Who Should Not Be Named”
Downton… Abbey?
This Home is a Liver-Free Zone
My 9/11 Rememberances
My Yearly Pumpkin Spice Rant
Done In By Baker’s Square
My Eulogy for Alice
“Dear Rikki…”
A Clean, Well-lighted Place for Books
Memories of my First Computer
A Little Excitement at the Staff Meeting
The Tale of Mrs. Butler
Sun, Sand, and a Margarita
“Thou Shalt Not Steal”
Troubleshooting at Ye Olde Folks Home
Stories of my Mother
I’ve Heard Angels Sing
Elevator Mishap at the Eye Clinic
One Day at Fair, Isaac
Saturday Morning Cartoons
A Sprig of Parsley
Fun With Recruitment Ads
Leave Her to Heaven
Bring me Dave Bringle!
Beware! The Oldsters Are Coming!
Life Among the Progressives
A Family Ritual While Watching Masterpiece
The Unforgettable General Oppy
“Don’t Even THINK About Parking Here”
A Dubious Plan Gone Awry
The Singing Christmas Tree!
One Day in the Hospital Lab
The Legend of the Broken Timer
Nelson’s Fruit Stand
This One Time in Glee Club…
Star Trek References for the Win
Family Psalm, Stuck in Lodi
Vacation in Branson
Clyde and Ruth Revisited
COVID Policies During my Wife’s Fatal Illness
I Guess I’m the Shadow IT Department Now
The Tale of Clyde and Ruth
My Garden of Gethsemane Story
We Might Get a Virus!

“Thou Shalt Not Steal”

Whenever I run across a “Nigerian prince” scam, I always like to read ahead to find out at exactly which price point the perpetrators expect me to take leave of my senses. A million dollars? $500 thousand?

The fateful day I first broke the eighth commandment I was not even yet in kindergarten, and all it took was 25 cents.. or $3.00 in today’s dollars after inflation.

That was the day that, fishing around in my mother’s purse, I found a pretty quarter, and it was so shiny, and I thought of all the candy I could buy for that princely sum… and I took it.

But then I felt a pang of remorse… what if my mother noticed it was missing? Desperate for a solution, I wandered over to my father’s desk where… I found a second quarter!

And so I placed that quarter in my mother’s purse to replace the one I had taken.

Problem solved! Or… was it? What if… my father noticed his quarter was missing?

And so I took a quarter from my mother’s purse to replace the quarter that I had taken from my father, but… wait… what if…?

I have no recollection of how many iterations of this useless exercise I engaged in, or the final denouement… Did I take the quarter at last? Or did I give up and return everything to the status quo?

Happily, although I am not perfect, it is my hope that my moral fibre is made of slightly sterner stuff at present.