Customer service is a major component of my job, has been for years. As the company is primarily mail order, most of my contact with customers, vendors and others is via the phone. I have very few face-to-face encounters but e-mail is making some inroads. Still, the phone rules and I am on the phone much during the course of a typical week.
Years ago a customer complained to my boss of the time that I didn’t have enough “sunshine” in my voice. She acknowledged that though I wasn’t rude, mean or nasty I didn’t exude “sunny” either. He didn’t offer any suggestions as to how I could get “sunnier.”
The comment did stay with me over the years. And while I wouldn’t describe my quality as “sunny” I do approach each telephone encounter with customers, vendors and others with an air of geniality laced with knowledgeable command and professionalism.
Sometimes it is a trial and this week has been one of those weeks. My emotional tilt-o-whirl aside, the job must be done. There were moments though, that threatened to crack my steely professional resolve.
An insurance company was supposed to issue a credit for 4 months of billing errors instead they back billed us above and beyond the original error.
A business checks printer who sent the wrong checks & deposit tickets not once, but twice and then, then had temerity to charge the company for RUSH delivery. We still don’t have the correct checks.
A payables clerk from Florida called to quibble about $1.25. We billed $100.75 but the purchase order was approved for only $99.50. She went on and on about budgets and hard times and really, that day she had me at hello. Seriously. This instance was small change but it does hi-light a broader issue, the guys simply must follow the terms of the purchase orders. Most school districts will not pay beyond the orders terms. The budgets are just too tight. But, that’s another story for some other time.
It is Friday. Friday means that the mail is lighter and the phones are quieter. And as this Friday is nearly over as far as work is concerned I can look ahead to being home with my feet up, resting my aching back, nursing a tall tepid one (I don’t go “cold” usually), with candles flickering and soft music playing. The ills of this week will eek out of my fingers and toes and I will begin to feel, well, probably…sunny, despite the cold dreariness of this particular Friday.
Saturday promises sun and warmth in abundance and Sunday I get to hang out with both son and daughter and this just in...maybe the girlfriend and of course, Babeball. Any and all doing their part to get me ready for another busy business week.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Distinctive Tone
Two days ago, on the phone.
Me: Hey Son
Him: The box office is closed today. I’ll look into a ticket for Sunday, tomorrow.
Me: Alright, let me know, when you know.
Him: I will. I need some help with something.
Me: Sure, what’s up?
Him: She’s buying me stuff.
Me: Yeah? Hmm, stuff. Cool.
Him: No, it’s not.
Me: No? Well, what kind of stuff?
Him: Well, she bought a shower curtain, some pillows and a belt.
Me: Did you need a new shower curtain, pillows and a belt?
Him: Yes, but that’s not the point.
Me: No, of course not. Son, she cares about you and this is her way of showing that and that she’s thinking about you. It’s not like she saw you needed a belt and she bought you a suit. She’s being thoughtful. But, if you are having a problem with it, you should talk with her. If she likes you the way you say, the way you think, she’ll understand. However, son, you do realize that you are no longer and *I* you are now a *WE* and with that comes…stuff.
Him: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
Me: Yep Yep
Yesterday on the phone:
Me: Hello, son.
Him: I sent an e-mail to the box office, I should hear back in a day or so.
Me: Alright. I hope D can get a seat.
Him: Well, we talked.
Me: Yeah, how did it go?
Him: Well, I helped her put up some shelves. She had fixed dinner and we ate. It was good, the food. I told her and it was really chill. She understood about that and me being busy and distracted because of the show. She said she understood. It was really chill.
Me: Good. I’m glad to hear it. Are you still going to take her to the Arboretum?
Him: Yeah, when the show is done. It’s a surprise. She knows we’re going somewhere, she just doesn’t know where. She’s excited. She hates not knowing, kinda like you.
Me: I’m happy your talk went well. Soooo, when are we all going to have lunch?
Him: Geeez, you and her geez. Soon, ma. Soon.
Me: Probably not until the show is over, huh?
Him: Yeah, probably.
Me: Hey Son
Him: The box office is closed today. I’ll look into a ticket for Sunday, tomorrow.
Me: Alright, let me know, when you know.
Him: I will. I need some help with something.
Me: Sure, what’s up?
Him: She’s buying me stuff.
Me: Yeah? Hmm, stuff. Cool.
Him: No, it’s not.
Me: No? Well, what kind of stuff?
Him: Well, she bought a shower curtain, some pillows and a belt.
Me: Did you need a new shower curtain, pillows and a belt?
Him: Yes, but that’s not the point.
Me: No, of course not. Son, she cares about you and this is her way of showing that and that she’s thinking about you. It’s not like she saw you needed a belt and she bought you a suit. She’s being thoughtful. But, if you are having a problem with it, you should talk with her. If she likes you the way you say, the way you think, she’ll understand. However, son, you do realize that you are no longer and *I* you are now a *WE* and with that comes…stuff.
Him: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
Me: Yep Yep
Yesterday on the phone:
Me: Hello, son.
Him: I sent an e-mail to the box office, I should hear back in a day or so.
Me: Alright. I hope D can get a seat.
Him: Well, we talked.
Me: Yeah, how did it go?
Him: Well, I helped her put up some shelves. She had fixed dinner and we ate. It was good, the food. I told her and it was really chill. She understood about that and me being busy and distracted because of the show. She said she understood. It was really chill.
Me: Good. I’m glad to hear it. Are you still going to take her to the Arboretum?
Him: Yeah, when the show is done. It’s a surprise. She knows we’re going somewhere, she just doesn’t know where. She’s excited. She hates not knowing, kinda like you.
Me: I’m happy your talk went well. Soooo, when are we all going to have lunch?
Him: Geeez, you and her geez. Soon, ma. Soon.
Me: Probably not until the show is over, huh?
Him: Yeah, probably.
Monday, March 31, 2008
In the Morning
This tale is my entry to this month's Wordsmiths exercise. 
The groans emanating from the bedroom, slicing into the serenity of Justine’s early morning ritual signaled the return of Rachel’s nightmares. Experience and the memory of a painfully bloody nose kept Justine from making her way to the bedroom. It was too soon. She must wait.
The groans emanating from the bedroom, slicing into the serenity of Justine’s early morning ritual signaled the return of Rachel’s nightmares. Experience and the memory of a painfully bloody nose kept Justine from making her way to the bedroom. It was too soon. She must wait.Justine does move to pour another cup of coffee. The steamy aroma taking her back to a similar morning eight months ago. She dropped a cup of coffee then, running full out to Rachel’s side the very first time she’d heard those groans.
Having cleaned up and settled down after being pummeled about the head and face when trying to rouse Rachel, Justine wanted to know if Rachel wanted to tell. Rachel didn’t want, but she did tell some.
“I was seven and my brothers were six and five. Mama’s friend, Papa Jack announced he was taking us to the carnival. Mama was working, so she didn’t go. We left in Papa Jack’s green truck and arrived at the carnival about 30 minutes later. It was cold. Too cold to be at the carnival, I thought. Other people must’ve thought so too, because there weren’t many people there. We jumped from the truck and half walked, half jogged about, unable to decide what to get on first. We were so excited. Papa Jack eventually suggested the Ferris wheel. Mama hadn’t let us try that ride before so we ran to go do that. Papa Jack paid the fee and the man operating the ride strapped us into baskets. I got to sit alone, since I was the biggest and oldest. It was the most exciting thing I’d ever done. I loved being up at top, being able to see the whole world. The boys weren’t even scared when it stopped and left us hanging in the air. Soon it was our turn to get off. The boys got off first and stayed together until I got down. I looked around for Papa Jack and didn’t see him anywhere. I called for him but he didn’t answer. The boys called and still nothing. The ride operator asked me if anything was wrong and I told him we couldn’t find our Papa Jack. He closed the ride and took us to an office. We sat for a long, long time with many grown-ups asking us our names and other questions. The boys started to cry. The carnival people gave us hot chocolate and peanuts. Sometime later the police came. We left with the police. “
It took a long time but Justine was finally able to get this part of the story from Rachel. The nightmares started two years after she left foster care. There is more, but Rachel won’t say. Though Justine has tried to find out what triggers the nightmares, more importantly she has had to learn how to soothe.
The coffee is nearly finished, soon it will be time to go to Rachel and hold her close
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Seven Wonders
While cleaning the building earlier today a few wonders tripped through my mind. For instance, I wondered if...
- I’ll eventually be able to look over the 3rd floor banister without feeling dizzy
- Neta’s headache will ease and whether we’ll be able to talk more today
- The sun will make an appearance and /or the winds will die down a bit
- I’ll try to get in a bike ride anyway
- My mom found endearing a former boyfriend’s oft repeated proclamation, “I’m in love with you honey like stink on shit.”
- That was an original BobbieJoe-ism or no.
- Listening to music while completing the chores would be better or worse, efficiency wise.
Just to name a few.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Speaking of Crabs
It may surprise you to learn that I had my first crab leg February 14, 2008. My daughter, cuckoo like Co-Co Puffs over crab legs decided to prepare some for the Valentine’s dinner she prepared for her boyfriend. I was invited too since I was, you know, home.
I like crab meat. I’ve always only eaten it though after it was out of the crab. Crab cakes, crab salad, Flounder with crab meat stuffing. You know, like that. I never had any inclination to tackle crab legs. None.
Tackle some I did on February 14, 2008. It came as no surprise that the meat was succulent and quite tasty. In fact the entire meal was delicious. Also not surprising was my dislike of the effort it took to get at that succulent meat. Pain. In. The. …yeah, there.
It probably would get easier as time went on if I kept at it. The boyfriend and D seemed to be having fun (they’d both had crab legs before). People in restaurants always seem to enjoy the effort. Me? Nah. I like tools but the crab crackers don't excite.
Though the meat was yummy, I've probably had my last crab leg, King or otherwise. Probably. Someone might be able to entice me to give it another whirl, someday.
I like crab meat. I’ve always only eaten it though after it was out of the crab. Crab cakes, crab salad, Flounder with crab meat stuffing. You know, like that. I never had any inclination to tackle crab legs. None.
Tackle some I did on February 14, 2008. It came as no surprise that the meat was succulent and quite tasty. In fact the entire meal was delicious. Also not surprising was my dislike of the effort it took to get at that succulent meat. Pain. In. The. …yeah, there.
It probably would get easier as time went on if I kept at it. The boyfriend and D seemed to be having fun (they’d both had crab legs before). People in restaurants always seem to enjoy the effort. Me? Nah. I like tools but the crab crackers don't excite.
Though the meat was yummy, I've probably had my last crab leg, King or otherwise. Probably. Someone might be able to entice me to give it another whirl, someday.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Just A Slice
A/P Lady: I sent you a check for $212.74 ! ! YOU are STILL billing me for $212.74
Credit Mgr. (me): Yes, ma’am. We got your check for $212.74 and we applied the $212.74 to your bill. That is not in dispute. However….
A/P Lady: I DON’T KNOW WHY you KEEP billing ME. WE PAID the invoice!!
Me: Yes ma’am, I’m not disputing that, however …
A/P Lady: I HAVE A CANCELLED CHECK!
Me: Ma’am, I am not disputing payment of the $212.74. Your total bill came to $1,704.51. The $212.74 combined with your subsequent payment of $1,279.03 brings your total payment to $1,491.77, leaving $212.74. ~~There were 2 invoices for 1 order, from the beginning someone in the A/P office misconstrued the larger of the two invoices. The $212.74 represents payment of the smaller invoice. ~~
A/P Lady: I don’t see how that is, I sent a check for $212.74.
Me: Yes ma’am you did. We got that check, however….
This went on for about 15 minutes with me explaining every which way how it is that she or rather her employer: a school district is MI still owes the company $212.74. This tussle has been going on for several months. The collection agency dropped it as too small for litigation. I’ll keep it on the books until the end of the year and if A/P lady still hasn’t gotten it it will go down as a bad debt for the company.
Let’s talk about King Crab Legs some more. Yum, except…
Credit Mgr. (me): Yes, ma’am. We got your check for $212.74 and we applied the $212.74 to your bill. That is not in dispute. However….
A/P Lady: I DON’T KNOW WHY you KEEP billing ME. WE PAID the invoice!!
Me: Yes ma’am, I’m not disputing that, however …
A/P Lady: I HAVE A CANCELLED CHECK!
Me: Ma’am, I am not disputing payment of the $212.74. Your total bill came to $1,704.51. The $212.74 combined with your subsequent payment of $1,279.03 brings your total payment to $1,491.77, leaving $212.74. ~~There were 2 invoices for 1 order, from the beginning someone in the A/P office misconstrued the larger of the two invoices. The $212.74 represents payment of the smaller invoice. ~~
A/P Lady: I don’t see how that is, I sent a check for $212.74.
Me: Yes ma’am you did. We got that check, however….
This went on for about 15 minutes with me explaining every which way how it is that she or rather her employer: a school district is MI still owes the company $212.74. This tussle has been going on for several months. The collection agency dropped it as too small for litigation. I’ll keep it on the books until the end of the year and if A/P lady still hasn’t gotten it it will go down as a bad debt for the company.
Let’s talk about King Crab Legs some more. Yum, except…
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Define Sexy
One of the topics this month over at The Lesbian Lifestyle is Define Sexy. I think sexy is...
... strong, sculpted calf muscles that jump with amusement when warm hands wrap them in a gentle embrace. It is also higher up, the biceps that throb under the ministrations of soft succulent lips. Sexy is that sound she makes deep in her throat when she realizes you are awake. Moreover it is that sparkle in her eyes when she looks the question in your direction. Sexy is your reply that starts as a whisper and ends with a sigh.
Sexy is reading her suggestive text message with mother sitting across the table.
Sexy is the laughter shared in the early morning hours, the lovingly prepared meals, cheerfully crafted cards, tenderly worded letters and thoughtfully selected tokens of affection. It is the understanding her need to rest and knowing her need to talk. Sexy is caressing her when she needs to cry. Sexy is her knowing the same about you, doing the same for you.
Sexy is 365 or 366 as the case may be. Sexy is love. Sexy is together. Sexy is all I am with you and all you are with me. Sexy is life.
... strong, sculpted calf muscles that jump with amusement when warm hands wrap them in a gentle embrace. It is also higher up, the biceps that throb under the ministrations of soft succulent lips. Sexy is that sound she makes deep in her throat when she realizes you are awake. Moreover it is that sparkle in her eyes when she looks the question in your direction. Sexy is your reply that starts as a whisper and ends with a sigh.
Sexy is reading her suggestive text message with mother sitting across the table.
Sexy is the laughter shared in the early morning hours, the lovingly prepared meals, cheerfully crafted cards, tenderly worded letters and thoughtfully selected tokens of affection. It is the understanding her need to rest and knowing her need to talk. Sexy is caressing her when she needs to cry. Sexy is her knowing the same about you, doing the same for you.
Sexy is 365 or 366 as the case may be. Sexy is love. Sexy is together. Sexy is all I am with you and all you are with me. Sexy is life.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Like Any Other Day
I don't get together with my brothers. The older is in Texas and has no interest in being in Illinois and certainly no interest in being part of this family, or any, perhaps. That may be changing as he appears to be in recovery and softening on some points. But, we don't talk so I don't know that to really be the case. The younger is still in jail. He's been offered a plea bargain deal but he won't take it. His wife is scrambling to get him legal representation. I do try to foster a relationship with his kids, but it is tough as their mother is, in a word...harried for a number of reasons not the least of which is the scrambling with my brother. They do however, have an open invitation to come by, anytime. 
They couldn't today because they live several miles away and are very active in their church. In years past that was the life my brothers and I led and in turn the lives my two led. Easter Sunday meant dressing up in your finest duds, going to church often participating in a special program and eating a huge dinner.
This Easter Sunday was different in several regards. Mom came by after her church service to share a meal with me and daughter. Son couldn't be here for he had two performances today and the break between them was not sufficient to allow the trip our home for dinner. He'll come by later in the week for the "basket" I packed for him.
They couldn't today because they live several miles away and are very active in their church. In years past that was the life my brothers and I led and in turn the lives my two led. Easter Sunday meant dressing up in your finest duds, going to church often participating in a special program and eating a huge dinner. 
This Easter Sunday was different in several regards. Mom came by after her church service to share a meal with me and daughter. Son couldn't be here for he had two performances today and the break between them was not sufficient to allow the trip our home for dinner. He'll come by later in the week for the "basket" I packed for him. As our lives continue to change so too will our "holidays" and our gatherings.
Purdue beat Utah. Fudge, there goes another bracket. Ah well, hopefully all the rest of the seeds will hold court. Either way, YaY for March and the Madness of it all.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
It's Spring ! ! ! !
Forecast from National Weather Service As of 12:03 PM CDT on March 20, 2008
Rest of Today... Partly sunny. Temperatures nearly steady around 40. Northeast winds around 10 mph. Tonight... Mostly cloudy. Snow after midnight. Snow may be heavy at times after midnight. Snow accumulation of 1 to 2 inches. Lows in the upper 20s. East winds 10 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 90 percent. Friday... Snow. Snow may be heavy at times. Snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches. Blustery. Highs in the mid 30s. East winds 15 to 25 mph. Chance of precipitation near 100 percent.
I don't care. It's spring and I got it. The fever. And it's burning a whole in my... oh never mind. Happy Spring!
Rest of Today... Partly sunny. Temperatures nearly steady around 40. Northeast winds around 10 mph. Tonight... Mostly cloudy. Snow after midnight. Snow may be heavy at times after midnight. Snow accumulation of 1 to 2 inches. Lows in the upper 20s. East winds 10 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 90 percent. Friday... Snow. Snow may be heavy at times. Snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches. Blustery. Highs in the mid 30s. East winds 15 to 25 mph. Chance of precipitation near 100 percent.
I don't care. It's spring and I got it. The fever. And it's burning a whole in my... oh never mind. Happy Spring!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
In My Head
Good Morning. Two simple words, a customary greeting even, if not especially, among strangers. Why…
I was ten or so when my mom began to relinquish her authority over my wardrobe. I was given more freedom to make my own choices and those choices…
On my way to see my son on stage on Saturday I encountered some St. Paddy celebrants all decked out in celebratory garb. Some conversation among the celebrants wound its way to astrological signs and related attributes. One celebrant asked the other “are you like, psycho sensitive?" My mind wonders what…
I checked and double checked my tax forms before my e-filing. Still, I got the rejected e-mail. Turns out I flubbed my SS No. What? I’ve been writing, typing and reciting this number for over 30 years. I know it! What!?! My head is just…
...clogged, like my ears, well actually just one ear. The right ear is disconnecting periodically and it is driving me…
The fog outside is nothing compared to the fog in my head. In my day-to-day I’m slogging through the important, funny or relevant details or scenes. I can articulate them and then I can’t. Consistent coherency is a struggle right now. My thoughts and energies are not here with me, they are there with her. I want ME to be there, right now!
But I can’t be, not right now. So I need to finish a thought, compose a tune that allows me to dance, to function well enough, long enough until there is where I can be.
I was ten or so when my mom began to relinquish her authority over my wardrobe. I was given more freedom to make my own choices and those choices…
On my way to see my son on stage on Saturday I encountered some St. Paddy celebrants all decked out in celebratory garb. Some conversation among the celebrants wound its way to astrological signs and related attributes. One celebrant asked the other “are you like, psycho sensitive?" My mind wonders what…
I checked and double checked my tax forms before my e-filing. Still, I got the rejected e-mail. Turns out I flubbed my SS No. What? I’ve been writing, typing and reciting this number for over 30 years. I know it! What!?! My head is just…
...clogged, like my ears, well actually just one ear. The right ear is disconnecting periodically and it is driving me…
The fog outside is nothing compared to the fog in my head. In my day-to-day I’m slogging through the important, funny or relevant details or scenes. I can articulate them and then I can’t. Consistent coherency is a struggle right now. My thoughts and energies are not here with me, they are there with her. I want ME to be there, right now!
But I can’t be, not right now. So I need to finish a thought, compose a tune that allows me to dance, to function well enough, long enough until there is where I can be.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
More Than A Feeling
It started at the base of the spine. A sizzling sensation radiating up and outward, leaving warmth where there was once a chill. It wasn’t long before that full body warmth delivered signals to my brain and my brain in turn sent signals…elsewhere.
Emotional hand wringing ensued.
I’d known this might happen. The head was already at the resort the body was now begging to visit. But, not now, all evidence to the contrary, mind and body, not ready. Not yet.
She was talking. What was she saying? I couldn’t concentrate. The buzzing in my head, the throbbing…elsewhere; must have been the wine. No, it wasn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes from hers, the blue vibrant, then smoky. I wanted to ignore the eyes, the buzz the throb, but I couldn’t. They would not be ignored.
Some what ifs broke through the cacophony momentarily interrupting my reverie. During the break, I heard her ask, “Do you even know if you’re really gay? I mean, you’ve never even kissed a woman.” To which I replied, “No time like the present.” And just like that, I was ready.
After several weeks of correspondence and conversation I visited Neta for the first time a year ago this week. My first night there we talked through the night. We kissed some too. We retired in the wee hours of the morning, falling into sleep, holding each other gingerly. Then daylight came and we...decided to be a couple.
Emotional hand wringing ensued.
I’d known this might happen. The head was already at the resort the body was now begging to visit. But, not now, all evidence to the contrary, mind and body, not ready. Not yet.
She was talking. What was she saying? I couldn’t concentrate. The buzzing in my head, the throbbing…elsewhere; must have been the wine. No, it wasn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes from hers, the blue vibrant, then smoky. I wanted to ignore the eyes, the buzz the throb, but I couldn’t. They would not be ignored.
Some what ifs broke through the cacophony momentarily interrupting my reverie. During the break, I heard her ask, “Do you even know if you’re really gay? I mean, you’ve never even kissed a woman.” To which I replied, “No time like the present.” And just like that, I was ready.
After several weeks of correspondence and conversation I visited Neta for the first time a year ago this week. My first night there we talked through the night. We kissed some too. We retired in the wee hours of the morning, falling into sleep, holding each other gingerly. Then daylight came and we...decided to be a couple.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Birthday Suit
He came into my life seven months ago. I wasn’t so sure I wanted what having him in our space meant. Pete the cat, was a new adventure in a time chock full of new adventures. I wasn’t quite so sure I could handle it, but I was willing to give it a go.
There were some humps along the way but we have formed a bond.
We have an understanding and he knows that I am on his side on at least one primal issue.
Suits.
I don’t think my daughter would actually try to outfit Pete the cat in anything quite so silly, but one can never to too careful. Diamond girl has acquired some interesting wardrobe in her few months in residence. Not a taco suit, but she has a cape with a matching cap, a belted sweater, polo shirt and a fur and more. Wardrobe. Diamond girl balks at some but gives in to others.
I guess she’s picking her battles. Pete the cat will have none of that. Daughter presses on, insists that a cat in, at the very least, a hat is de rigueure. Pete and I are in total agreement. No hats! Or any other suits of clothing while we're on topic.
Pete the cat is two years old today. The celebration, sans hats, is on!
There were some humps along the way but we have formed a bond.
We have an understanding and he knows that I am on his side on at least one primal issue.
Suits.
I don’t think my daughter would actually try to outfit Pete the cat in anything quite so silly, but one can never to too careful. Diamond girl has acquired some interesting wardrobe in her few months in residence. Not a taco suit, but she has a cape with a matching cap, a belted sweater, polo shirt and a fur and more. Wardrobe. Diamond girl balks at some but gives in to others. I guess she’s picking her battles. Pete the cat will have none of that. Daughter presses on, insists that a cat in, at the very least, a hat is de rigueure. Pete and I are in total agreement. No hats! Or any other suits of clothing while we're on topic.
Pete the cat is two years old today. The celebration, sans hats, is on!Sunday, March 09, 2008
Madness
Illinois...block out, oops too late. Maybe next year.
Comcast... WTF*???
*Fudge. The broadcast on the Tennessee / LSU battle hiccuped during the fist half. Aaaarrrggghhhh. I sure hope you have it togther now, it's shaping up to be quite the battle.
Comcast... WTF*???
*Fudge. The broadcast on the Tennessee / LSU battle hiccuped during the fist half. Aaaarrrggghhhh. I sure hope you have it togther now, it's shaping up to be quite the battle.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Zip It
The zipper on my warmest parka broke.
Nothing dramatic. Dog. Poop. Squat.
Fudge.
I took it to one of the my friendly, neighborhood dry cleaner / tailor.
Mr. Liu wrote the ticket, telling me to come back in a week, on Thursday.
I paid (dearly) for my parka the next week. I wore it to work the following day.
A(nother) very cold day.
Warmest parka zipped with relative ease. After walking a bit I felt a draft. I looked down. The zipper was apart.
Double Fudge.
After work I go home, change into my other parka and return to cleaner / tailor.
Mr. Liu listens to me, inspects the parka and zipper.
Words (a flurry) are exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Liu.
I have to hope they aren’t saying things like I’m too fat for my coat. I don't understand the exchange. The looks, though, I've seen those before. Buuuut.. I feel myself wanting to defend:
I’m doing all this walking. I feel the burn.
Mr. Liu says to me, “I fix, come back Thursday." Another seven days with the other parka.
Triple fudge.
I pick up the warmest parka the next week.The parka with another new zipper.
The warmest parka has been worn for a week. The newest zipper has held.
Mr. & Mrs. Liu's exchange was likely about the defective zipper, lack of confidence in their zipper supplier and / or about my warmest parka zipper replacement being one in a series of do-overs.
Or something like that. It had to be. Mr. & Mrs. Liu friendly they are but they don't care one whit about how fat I may or not be, just about the zipper on my warmest parka. Thanks to Mr. Liu my warmest parka is back in top form.
Nothing dramatic. Dog. Poop. Squat.
Fudge.
I took it to one of the my friendly, neighborhood dry cleaner / tailor.
Mr. Liu wrote the ticket, telling me to come back in a week, on Thursday.
I paid (dearly) for my parka the next week. I wore it to work the following day.
A(nother) very cold day.
Warmest parka zipped with relative ease. After walking a bit I felt a draft. I looked down. The zipper was apart.
Double Fudge.
After work I go home, change into my other parka and return to cleaner / tailor.
Mr. Liu listens to me, inspects the parka and zipper.
Words (a flurry) are exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Liu.
I have to hope they aren’t saying things like I’m too fat for my coat. I don't understand the exchange. The looks, though, I've seen those before. Buuuut.. I feel myself wanting to defend:
I’m doing all this walking. I feel the burn.
Mr. Liu says to me, “I fix, come back Thursday." Another seven days with the other parka.
Triple fudge.
I pick up the warmest parka the next week.The parka with another new zipper.
The warmest parka has been worn for a week. The newest zipper has held.
Mr. & Mrs. Liu's exchange was likely about the defective zipper, lack of confidence in their zipper supplier and / or about my warmest parka zipper replacement being one in a series of do-overs.
Or something like that. It had to be. Mr. & Mrs. Liu friendly they are but they don't care one whit about how fat I may or not be, just about the zipper on my warmest parka. Thanks to Mr. Liu my warmest parka is back in top form.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
A Moment of Sun
The sun shone today. For a minute, but it was out there blazing away like there was no tomorrow, if ever so briefly. Taking advantage, I took not only the usual mid-day walk, but another to boot. The need to soak up as much sun, all bright and shiny, is powerful these days. I hope this sun shining folly extends beyond the brief stint it shared today.
Though walking is my most routine exercise regime, especially during these cold weather months, I find the walking much productive when I have a specific destination. Walking around a couple (or several) blocks and then back again just doesn’t hold much interest for me. Obviously the lack of interest doesn’t extend when walking with the dog. When I have the dog with me there is the dog and the dog’s business on which to focus.
I’ve tried listening to music while I walk. Sometimes effective, however, more often than not the music creates a dstraction that I just can’t handle. I have flashes of klutz and those seem most active when my ears are dressed with listening devices. I’ve tumbled up and over my fair share of curbs. I’ve tried to mask the tumbles as dance maneuvers but the moves fall flat just as my body hits the pavement.
The destination for the mid-day jaunt was none other than the land of Ohhhs. Ohhhprah has a store. Not just an on-line marketplace, but an actual brick, mortar, glass and steel structure where wares are sold. The store is staffed by perky folks clad in black, business casual attire.
…and pink silk bunting draped over anything that would stand still. If you know your “Steel Magnolia” quotes you know what comes next. Trade the silk bunting with “O” all over and you have what it felt like to be in Ohhhprah land. Pass the Pepto.
Not quite the thrill ride of say…Elvis’ Graceland, the land of Ohhhs offers its own unique brand of worshipping, right down to the huge plasmas offering favorite Ohhh scenes, interviews and special events. The empire that is Ohhhprah has grown again. What’s next you might ask, a reality show?
As a matter of fact…yes.
I’ll make it back to the Ohhprah store, though not to purchse. It’s just a place to go during my mid-day walk.
Though walking is my most routine exercise regime, especially during these cold weather months, I find the walking much productive when I have a specific destination. Walking around a couple (or several) blocks and then back again just doesn’t hold much interest for me. Obviously the lack of interest doesn’t extend when walking with the dog. When I have the dog with me there is the dog and the dog’s business on which to focus.
I’ve tried listening to music while I walk. Sometimes effective, however, more often than not the music creates a dstraction that I just can’t handle. I have flashes of klutz and those seem most active when my ears are dressed with listening devices. I’ve tumbled up and over my fair share of curbs. I’ve tried to mask the tumbles as dance maneuvers but the moves fall flat just as my body hits the pavement.
The destination for the mid-day jaunt was none other than the land of Ohhhs. Ohhhprah has a store. Not just an on-line marketplace, but an actual brick, mortar, glass and steel structure where wares are sold. The store is staffed by perky folks clad in black, business casual attire.
…and pink silk bunting draped over anything that would stand still. If you know your “Steel Magnolia” quotes you know what comes next. Trade the silk bunting with “O” all over and you have what it felt like to be in Ohhhprah land. Pass the Pepto.
Not quite the thrill ride of say…Elvis’ Graceland, the land of Ohhhs offers its own unique brand of worshipping, right down to the huge plasmas offering favorite Ohhh scenes, interviews and special events. The empire that is Ohhhprah has grown again. What’s next you might ask, a reality show?
As a matter of fact…yes.
I’ll make it back to the Ohhprah store, though not to purchse. It’s just a place to go during my mid-day walk.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Skittle Brain (ed)
This ad is pretty old but I'd not seen it until very recently. Immediately I questioned how he got dressed? How did he get to work? Then I realized I'd missed some of his dialog.
Oh. But still questions remain.
Baby daughter?
Silly to question, I know. It's not meant to make sense. It's silly, like much. It's senseless, like too much.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Mama Grand
My maternal grandma, Big Mama we called her, died 19 years ago. We had many conversations, Big Mama and me. Mostly they were of the "go fetch" variety, as in, "go fetch me a swalla o water, gal" but once in a while more was covered.
Only once did I bring just a swallow. My grandma drank heaping mugs of water. When she said "swalla" she meant to fill her favorite mug to the brim with ice cold water.
I still have that mug.
As is usually the case when someone dies there are things you wished you'd told them, had a chance to tell them. It occurs to me that I'd never told Big Mama that I loved her. Of course she never said those words to me either. She wasn't that type, but I knew she did and I presume she knew I loved her as well.
In the years since her death I found myself trying to recall our last vocal exchange and I just can't bring it forth. It was likely something inconsequential. Or perhaps having to do with plants as by that time I was into house plants and she was quite the guru when it came to keeping greenery indoors.
During my recent illiness my imagination ran a bit wild. I found myselffantasizing thinking about all kinds of things. Big Mama flitted across my mind and I found myself fabricating an exchange with her. It went something like this:
Me: Big Mama, why Gunsmoke?
Big Mama: Miss Kitty. Now go fetch me a swalla o water, gal.
Only once did I bring just a swallow. My grandma drank heaping mugs of water. When she said "swalla" she meant to fill her favorite mug to the brim with ice cold water.
I still have that mug.
As is usually the case when someone dies there are things you wished you'd told them, had a chance to tell them. It occurs to me that I'd never told Big Mama that I loved her. Of course she never said those words to me either. She wasn't that type, but I knew she did and I presume she knew I loved her as well.
In the years since her death I found myself trying to recall our last vocal exchange and I just can't bring it forth. It was likely something inconsequential. Or perhaps having to do with plants as by that time I was into house plants and she was quite the guru when it came to keeping greenery indoors.
During my recent illiness my imagination ran a bit wild. I found myself
Me: Big Mama, why Gunsmoke?
Big Mama: Miss Kitty. Now go fetch me a swalla o water, gal.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Maybe? Naah, not me. However,
Dear dirty, red Chevy Impala with the temporary plates,
It is permissible to make a right turn at some intersections, within certain hours on a red light, provided
1. There aren't any signs dis-allowing or limiting the action.
2.You come to a full and complete stop prior to attempting the action.
3. You look left, right and then left again to determine that all motorized and pedestrian traffic (who have the green light, by-the-way) has cleared the intersection.
4. When and only when you see (not imagine, guess or feel) that the way is clear to proceed, then by all means, proceed.
If you hear me clapping and / or screeching (as my "Go Bulls" horn was retired many seasons ago)to get your attention because you almost hit me, then perhaps you tripped on one or more of the steps.
Me, my fellow pedestrians and other motorists would appreciate it greatly if you would 1. slow down or better yet, stop 2. pay attention 3. heed signage & other signals 4. grap a capful of consideration and / or 5. all of the above when you hit the road again.
Signed,
Concerned Road Rage Rules Survivor
Monday, February 25, 2008
Top Ten
Top Ten Reasons for looking forward to yet another Winter Storm Warning1. The expected inches will cover (& or re-cover) piles of dog poop inconsiderate neighbors didn’t have the decency to scoop.
2. Ah, on second thought, that's the only reason for looking forward to yet another winter storm.
There is a new storm brewing and if the forecasters are right by this time tomorrow I will be ankle deep (or more) in yet more snow. I know, it's winter still and as such storm warnings shouldn't come as news. Further, I know many of you have been in the grips of horrid winter weather and have your own lists of woes. I can certainly empathize.
Demeanor that's what I'm thinking about this day.
I spent most of the weekend recovering from flu-like symptoms. I'm feeling much better now, but Friday afternoon, Saturday and good doses of Sunday were not the best of times. I'd promised my mom I'd help with a project on Sunday so come sore throat and body aches, I was committed.
In her own meandering way of nit-picking things apart, mom asked if I was going through The Change. I assured her that I was indeed and had been going through it for some time now. She asked (again) about the symptoms I was suffering and I admitted that besides erractic cycles and insomnia the symptoms were few and minor considering the possibilities. Mom follows that she's noted a change in me and before I could ask what that might be, she notes, "you talk louder and you get frustrated faster."
In my head I say, "no shit, Dick Tracy!" Outloud I return with how I didn't think these were effects of The Change but rather the growing need to be heard and desire for a different kind of life most days. Not those precise words, mind you, but yes, in essence. Mom changed the subject not at all convinced of my argument.
Then again, I admitted a bit quieter, could just be the windy, snowy and freezing weather.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Poli - Tick
Judging by her excitement one would think that this was my daughter's first opportunity to vote in a presidential election. It isn't. She got her first taste in 2004, Bush vs. Kery. D understood the import of the occasion as it wasn't her very first election. That came in 2003 when she got to vote for some local officials. However, as I recall she was pretty ho-hum about the whole thing.
There isn't much as exciting as the presidential race, politically speaking that is, especially in our little town where the hottest issues of late were to light (or not) the football stadium or to open up a shopping district street to car traffic, taking away yet another pedestrian paradise of benches and greenery.
This time daughter is feeling it. D is aflutter with excitement. She cast her vote on Super Tuesday with joy and pride. She is bursting to do so again in November. D is making no bones about who she is supporting. So much so she couldn't wait to show Diamond dog her new toy.* Hillary, sporting her "I'm with Stupid" tee shirt, packing her "It Takes a Village to do my hair" manual and BILL collar (attached to a short leash), is no match for sharp little doggie teeth. I predict Hill's stuffing will be all over the dining room rug in no time flat.
D tosses Hills into the air with extreme glee exhorting Diamond girl to "get her!"
*for the record Diamond dog has Bush & Governator Ahnold too. They weren't as well received initially, but with the addition of Hills, they are being re-evaluated in a way that only she can.
There isn't much as exciting as the presidential race, politically speaking that is, especially in our little town where the hottest issues of late were to light (or not) the football stadium or to open up a shopping district street to car traffic, taking away yet another pedestrian paradise of benches and greenery.
This time daughter is feeling it. D is aflutter with excitement. She cast her vote on Super Tuesday with joy and pride. She is bursting to do so again in November. D is making no bones about who she is supporting. So much so she couldn't wait to show Diamond dog her new toy.* Hillary, sporting her "I'm with Stupid" tee shirt, packing her "It Takes a Village to do my hair" manual and BILL collar (attached to a short leash), is no match for sharp little doggie teeth. I predict Hill's stuffing will be all over the dining room rug in no time flat.
D tosses Hills into the air with extreme glee exhorting Diamond girl to "get her!"
*for the record Diamond dog has Bush & Governator Ahnold too. They weren't as well received initially, but with the addition of Hills, they are being re-evaluated in a way that only she can.
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