Shamrocketship

Preview

I bought a National Geographic magazine about two weeks ago.  It's a special issue, and the subject was China: I was hoping to educate myself about the country and its culture a little bit beyond my general distaste for some of their government's policies. 

This is the May 2008 edition, which probably came out on the newsstand about a month ago, and that makes it just so weird that this picture appeared in it.

The magazine said the shot was meant to "depict new life in a changing world - one in which children without siblings will support both parents."  Bitterly Ironic that so many parents in Sechuan lost their only child this week.   

The artist is Li Wei, of Beijing. 

Yet another reason to leave this town

My town isn't my town any longer.  I used to have a real love for this place but there's nothing here to love anymore:  it's changed, and it's sterile.  High end stores like Restoration Hardware and Tiffany's and $30-an-entree restaurants replaced my mom & pop video store, the health food store, the restaurant with the old-fashioned lunch counter and swivel stools.  I never go downtown anymore and the only place in the entire town I still shop is the grocery store.

The latest "improvement"? The Soup Man (of Seinfeld fame) has come to Broad Street.  Which I initially thought was kind of neat because it's a little quirky, and what's not to like about soup? 

I'll tell you what's not to like:  Prices like $5.95 and $6.95 for most of the soups.  The Lobster or Crab Bisque will set you back $8.95.

That's for a cup.

A bowl of the Bisque is $10.95, and a quart? 

$24.95.

Is that insane or is it just me?

 

 

What Grief Sounds Like

This is a very moving piece by NPR's Melissa Block, on location in Dujuangyan, China earlier today.  It's hard enough to read it without being moved to tears, but I happened to hear the audio version on the radio this afternoon on the way home from work.  It was much longer, and Ms. Block's emotions clearly came through in her voice as she narrated. My reaction wasn't compatible with driving 70 mph on 195; I had to pull over until I could see again. 

There are no politics or races or languages or borders that change what grief sounds like.  And there's too much of it in the world today. 

Question for you . . .

Oh, Great Wise Audience of Four . . . is anyone using Vista and what do you think of it?  I've heard there are "issues." 

I'm in dire need of a new laptop:  I'm reluctant to buy one with Vista yet it's getting very difficult to find anything still with XP.

MAC fans need not point out the error of my basic OS choice.  Or you can try, but I will stick my fingers in my ears - again - and be all "lah lah lah lah I can't hear you." 

On XM Radio

I've had XM Radio in my car for about six months now and it's kind of like cable TV.  There are a gazillion channels and within a short period of time you realize you're only frequently tuning in to a half dozen or so.  I have 30 pre-set spots available, but only 8 actually designated.  They are for classical, Fine Tuning (so eclectic that it defies description), folk/acoustic, 70's, 90's (yes, I skipped the 80's), current alternative, comedy, and a token latino station.  If they had a Bollywood one, I'd preset that, but no such luck.

Anyway, I spend about a week listening to a station before I tire of it and change to another, and I recently spent a week at the classical spot on the dial.  I was listening to some symphony or other, and after it finished the announcer quoted an 18th-century admirer of the composer. The admirer had just heard the debut performance of the piece and was apparently so blown away by it, that when he went to put his hat back on upon leaving the concert hall, he found it hard to locate his head.

Which got me to thinking that I am very glad I live in the age of recorded media.  Because back in the days of the classical composers, you had to have a certain amount of money and societal standing to attend their performances.  And if I were so lucky to have attended one and then had I likewise been blown away by it and then had I faced the distinct possibility - probability - that I would never hear that piece of music quite so ever again? 

I would probably go crazy. 

Happy Mothers Day

Friday Happy Dance

The version performed here is missing some of the complicated fingerings (guitar and piano) from the recorded version I have, but there's no way for this NOT to be a happy song.  Enjoy -

What HE said . . .

Goodby Jason.  You were cute, but how you lasted as long as you did on this season's AI was beyond me.  Your talent ran out about twelve shows ago.  Each performance you did got more and more banal and lifeless.  Then on Wednesday, you self-destructed and there was no choice but to vote you off when you forgot the words to Mr. Tambourine Man.  Most three-year-olds know that one.

So last night, Jason was shown being asked "What went wrong?"  And his answer was more or less that learning one song "all the way through" was hard. 

Watching him confess this in the interview last night, Sparky was quick to note the real problem:  They smoke really good pot wherever it is that Jason lives.   

RAM

So I'm finally done loading the digital picture frame, and the total time spent was about 9 hours.  I lost track of the total number of pictures but it's way more than the 150 they advertised.  When I remember to check (it's at work sprucing up my cube) I'll let you know.

In the process of going through all of my digital pictures (the ones I haven't lost, anyway), I found a few worth throwing up here.

First, my son getting a "This Side Up" haircut by Sparky last summer.  Only it's "This Side Down" in the picture . . .

Then there's T-Bone, from a previous lifetime, holding my teeny tiny Iris cat in his huge arms.  This would have been taken about eight months before she died, and she was probably drooling with happiness.  It's one of my favorites.

 

Another Great Time Sucker-Upper

I bought a digital photo frame Saturday.  Kohl's had a great sale (thanks, Drooly!) and I picked up a decent one.  It holds 150 pictures at 2MB each, but I'm shrinking mine a lot smaller since it makes no sense to view them on this device at that size.  So I can probably load over 500, I figure. 

So far, I have spent about six hours going through my digital picture library and loading a nice assortment into the frame.  So far. 

This is just as time-consuming as iPod management.

I hesitate to use their name in the title, but they done right by me.

The people at C0mc45t came through on their promises.  After no less than six phone calls from Karen in their Executive Office on Wednesday and a follow-up today (that's calls from, not to), I had my money back - directly deposited into my checking account, plus enough extra to completely cover next month's payment.  Plus . . . get this! . . . a home visit and apology from the technician who disconnected me in the first place.  Not that it was him I was really angry with anyway.

I do still have an issue with the fact that the company apparently CAN solve problems quickly and easily - when it wants to.  When it is being publicly bashed.  But under ordinary circumstances, satisfaction isn't what you get.  Their customer service area for "regular" people needs the same type of overhaul that the Division of Motor Vehicles got a few years back.   It'd be a very wise investment on their part to spend the time up front to properly train their employees, properly empower their employees to fix things, and properly pay their employees.  Oh, and implement a customer service database that records any and all transactions with the customer.  My employer has one; C0mc45t should too. 

I'll end on a positive note by saying I love the cable tv and internet service they provide, and this is the reason I don't want to have problems like I had this week.  So thanks to Frank who noticed I was sitting here grumbling this week, and to Karen who fixed things. If the folks in the regular customer service area were as good as you two, we wouldn't be talking about this at all. 

I'd just be blogging.   

"It's a lighthearted interpretation of the old theme, designed for good times."

Well I was putting together a substantial post about music, but somehow I got distracted.  VERY distracted.

How's this for a vacation idea? 

• 14 bedrooms
• 14 baths
• two kitchens
• a ballroom
• a party wing (PARTY WING?)
• a pub
• a croquet lawn
• a helipad
• a pool and a pond (a pond would be good for you). 
• a Buddha statute.

Anyone interested? 

I call the Italian Bedroom.   

Heating up . . .

"Flaming enthusiasm, backed up by horse sense and persistence, is the quality that most frequently makes for success."  - Dale Carnegie

"Flaming weblog writing, backed up by horse sense and persistence, is the quality that most frequently makes for success." - Me

Comcast executive office people called me six times today in pursuite of my satisfaction.  They're working hard on it; I'll let you know how and when they finally get it. 

"Frank"ly my dear, I don't believe you.

If you read the comments under last night's post, you'll see a potential sequel is on the horizon.   I was a bit snarky in my response there, but someone younger and wiser than me suggested "Frank" might actually have some cred, so I sent him the info he requested.  It should make for a good subsequent post, in either case.

And in case you haven't already discovered Fail Blog, here you go.  Funniest thing* since ICHC and I thank Erica very much for directing me to it.  I needs laughs . . . 

*Except that first picture up there right now (Knee Fail).  Not funny. 

I HATE COMCAST. In other words, BAM . . BAM . . . BAM

. . . would be the sound of my head slamming onto the desktop repeatedly. 

Did you ever try to straighten out a mess with Comcast?  It's impossible.  Save yourself the umpteen hours on the phone with their lazy imbecile employees.  They will stall and stall again and tell you there's no problem according to their records, and when you ask to speak to a supervisor, you are either put on hold for hours (literally) or transferred back to the main menu.  I gather that the reason for this is the request for "a supervisor" cannot be filled because no one has ever performed well enough at Comcast to get promoted to that level. So the question just completely baffles them.  Super-what?  We ain't got no super watchoomacallits heah.

Don't bother visiting the business office, either.  The trick they pull there is to be all nice and cooperative with you and immediately know how to resolve the problem.  BUT they "can't do it right now because the business office is closed."  They promise to do it first thing next day and call you to confirm.  They take your phone number and write it on the copies of paperwork you have brought to them as evidence that there is, indeed a problem, and they wait until you are just barely over the threshold of the door on the way out before they toss your receipts and paperwork and phone number in the nearest trash can and head outside themselves for a smoke break.

Oh . . . did I neglect to say what the problem was?  Hahaha.  It's a good one as far as Comcast messes go.  Guaranteed to eat up hours and hours and hours of my time and prolly take at least two or three days off my total lifespan if it doesn't give me a heart attack or a stroke and kill me directly right now while I'm on hold.*

Here 'tis - the story, not the heart attack:  I was home Tuesday night last week when one of their white trucks pulled up and a guy gets out and knocks on the front door.  Tells me he's got an order to disconnect because I'm two months behind on payments. 

Very curious, as I pay by automatic deduction from my checking account and they have indeed deducted my payments those same two months and this is the arrangement me and Comcast have had for many years.

Even more curious that it would be only for the upstairs address, which basically has a line split off the main downstairs one, and provides just basic service for the tv up there.  No box, no remote, nothing.  And it's been that way for a whole lot longer than two months, and my bill statement identifies only the bottom address.

Curiousest yet . . . the name the disconnecter guy tells me the account is under?  Not me.  Or the previous tenant who left upstairs about 7 years ago. I insisted there was obviously something amiss and he insisted equally insistently that he was going to disconnect unless he got the payment but I shouldn't worry because if I'm telling the truth, I "can call the office tomorrow to straighten it out."  Right.  Obviously, he has satellite internet and is not a Comcast customer. 

So I did insist on identification from the guy. But you know it was still very reluctantly that I wrote out that $120.13 check, right?  Me and Comcast f*ck-ups go way back. This was starting to smell like a bad one. (And in case you're wondering why I didn't just let him disconnect, I'll explain that later.)   

Sho'nuff, there I was an hour later on the phone with one of their stellar representatives who was insisting there's "no problem" on their end.  My account is perfectly fine and dandy, although he can't find any record of the upstairs address.   And forgive me for wondering, then, how someone else had an order to disconnect at that very address?  Can I speak to a supervisor? 

Bad question, Lynne. Bad question.  Go back to the main menu. Do not pass go, do not get supervisor.

So Saturday consisted of a trip to the local office.  And I'll be danged.  Sho'nuff again, they figured out the problem right away!  It wasn't 122 Elm Street we meant to disconnect - Whoopsie!  It was 124 Maple Street where the deadbeat lives who didn't pay!  But you, poor customer from 122 Elm Street, you can understand that, right?  I mean, they sort of look the same, Elm and Maple, they're both trees, right?  And use some of the same letters?  And the house number wasn't far off either! Only two digits!  Boy we did pretty good on that one, considering most of us had to fail a test to work here. 

So anyway, I fall for the story that the business office is closed, they'll fix it Monday, call me to confirm, yada yada yada and I must have "Idiot" written all over my forehead, right?  And I leave the office.

And here we are Monday night, no message from Comcast, no credit appearing on my account, and after 55 minutes on hold,* I am talking to a representative who tells me I "shoulda put a stop payment on dat check." 

BAM . . . BAM . . . BAM . . . BAM.  When I get done doing this BAMming, I'm filing a complaint with the NJ BPU.  With them, I may stand a teensy weensy chance of getting the problem corrected in, oh, about 5 months or so, but it's a teensy weensy chance better than dealing with Comcast directly.

BAM BAM BAM . . .

Oh, right - why didn't I consider just letting him disconnect the line and sorting out the mess later?  I could have.  But in retrospect, I'm very glad I didn't.  I would have my $120, but would that be worth the three or four months without tv or internet that it would take me to convince Comcast to restore my service because it had been disconnected?  Do you think they'd believe it was disconnected?  No way!  They would have no record of a disconnect at 122 Elm Street! And of course yhey would continue to debit my account for the monthly payment.  BAM . . . BAM . . . BAM . . . . and then I'd finally finally finally convince Comcast to restore my service and they'd set up an appointment for next month on a Tuesday between 6:00 AM and 6:00 PM and I'd take the day off work joyously anticipating the return of my internet service and by 6:05 PM when no one has come to do that I'm starting to fear the worst, and meanwhile, the deadbeat over at 124 Maple Street is having a pretty good day cuz Comcast just came by and hooked up his cable for free!

PS cuz I'm on a roll . . . why does Typepad spellcheck want to put a capital I on "internet"? That was so 1998.