The Summer of Blogging Day Three
So, on Wednesdays, I typically work from really, really early in the morning to mid-afternoon, and when I come home, I immediately sit down at the computer and start writing up a rundown and show notes for The Deucecast...
The Deucecast is our podcast, and by "our" I mean my buddy Mikey and Matty, Tommy Mac and Shawn. We've also had Hurricane Rhett in studio, JustFish to promote his new book and The Good Doctor Earl... and so, today, like every Wednesday, I began typing up what would be our 9th episode, "At Podcast's End".
Two hours later, I was satisfied with what we had, having already emailed Mikey and Matty the details, gotten some feedback from them on a few changes and had a finished couple of documents. Glancing at the clock, its a little past five, so its time to finally get upstairs, change out of my coffee makin' gear and put on my not workin' gear and head out for a meeting at Valleydale Church (an sbc fellowship).
I walk up the steps, not paying much attention to anything, and about six steps in, I notice something drastically different. Its hot. Like, its really, really hot. Like a wall of heat I just stepped through, or ascended into, it was horrible.
The Cabana sports two AC units, one for upstairs and one for downstairs, and the thermostat for the top floor is at the top of the steps... it reads a nice, breezy 85 degrees. Like someone who opens the hood an jiggles a wire when their car won't start, then expecting it to just fire right up, I push a few buttons expecting the air to kick right on... aaaaaand... it doesn't. The thermostat is set on 74, the temp just rose to 86.
And I'm already sweating.
Long story short, some very dear friends of ours recommended someone they knew and used for their AC work--I wont say who the friends were nor who they recommended, not because I dont want to talk about them, but because I don't know if they's appreciate me telling the world who "their guy" is. But... our friends are rock stars and awesome, and The AC Guy is turning out to be quite a find himself.
My father in law, Big Daddy Ron, and Bro in Law Tyler stopped by first to look at the issue--Big Daddy Ron has built a few homes pretty much by hand, so I trust his judgement. However, there wasn't much he could do but try a diagnosis.
When The AC Guy arrived, who by the way was a rock star for even coming to our home at 8pm at night, he did a deeper diagnosis... turns out Big Daddy Ron wasn't too far off base, and myself and The AC Guy found the real problem...
There was water dripping from too much condensation, cause it to fill up the drip overflow pan, which shut the AC unit off for safety issues. Thankfully, the motor is still in good shape, the compressor still works and it seems to be a little cloggy drainage issue... we hope. We hope.
Apparently, some of the parts and labor is under warranty still... but it looks like our issue is not. The important part is, its cooling off right now. I went upstairs a few minutes ago, and it the temperature is around 79 or so, which is considerably better than where it had gotten.
The joys of being a homeowner. Can't wait til we need a plumber.
Showing posts with label The Cabana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Cabana. Show all posts
The Rock Rocks (and other thoughts)
What a glorious day here at The Cabana. Its my day off, so I was able to sleep until around 10ish this morning, after staying up until 1am watching almost 3 hours of American Idol and another hour of Survivor: Redemption Island, and sometimes when you sleep late, and you do that groggy, wobbly stumble to the toilet for your morning relief, then that shower that comes after is just wonderful. Got out, had me a quick lunch, then set about the task of finishing the laundry that had been piled up for five days now... well, heck, we were gone for twelve days, so everything we owned was dirty.
Now, I'm just sitting on the couch, chilling out, relaxing all cool, you know, shooting some b'ball outside of the school... okay, thats not true. Thats too much excercise. It is a beautiful day outside, and some may criticize me for not being in it... but what would I do? Run? Go stand on the corner, inhale the fresh Birmingham/Hoover air and mutter out loud, "Wow, what a pretty day!"? Nah, I just like it here in The Cabana, all the windows open, the bright sunshine pouring in, and a bad Steven Seagal movie playing on the TV, on a channel with no HD, making it fuzzy, which probably makes it more enjoyable.
I guess "Bad Steven Seagal Movie" is itself an oxymoron.
So, The Rock, who I have a total mancrush on, is back in the WWE. It was a glorious return on this past Monday Night Raw, and I watched the twenty minutes or so he was on about three times. He was in fine form, shouting out things like, "Layeth the smacketh down on your candy a#(@*" and "Know your role and shut your mouth!" and "All you jabronis..." It made me giggle. He rules. He... well, Rocks.
And of course, the big news is, he'll be "hosting" Wrestlemania XXVII, this time in Atlanta, Georgia, on April 2nd. Myself and my best mate Wookiee had been discussing going anyway, and we were tossing back and forth about a third like Danny Ocean talking to Rusty in "Ocean's Eleven"... "We need one more? You think we need one more? Okay, we'll get one more..."
So enter Big Tom Johnson, another former Deucemate. The discussion of whether we go to Wrestlemania XXVII shifted to overdrive when I found out that The Rock will be there, and a major part of it. Toss in the possibility that Kevin "Diesel"/"Big Daddy Kool" Nash may be there, as well as Booker T, and even the outside shot that WCW'er Sting might show up--highly unlikely, but then again, so was The Rock's return to regular WWE appearances... anyway, add all that in, and the discussion went from "are we going?" to "how fast can we get tickets?"
A visit to StubHub (stuuuuubhub!) today got us some tickets. Granted, we are in the upper upper deck, and granted we'll be about 10 rows from the top of the Georgia Dome, and granted everyone, Diesel, The Rock and The Big Show included, will look about an inch tall from our seats, but WE WILL BE AT WRESTLEMANIA. If you could get Super Bowl tickets, you'd take 'em, no matter where you were sitting. And at about $67 bucks a pop, you just want to say you were there. April 2nd, we will be. I rule.
Speaking of The Rock, I just, in the middle of writing this blog post, left The Cabana, drove over to the ghetto and paid a buck at the dollar theater to see The Rock's latest film, "Faster". To say that "Faster" is a bad film is understating the words "Bad Film". This movie is flat out terrible.
The Rock plays a character only known as Driver, and that's not his name, that's apparently his role in a bank heist that ended up putting him in prison for ten years. He and his brother Gary were set up, Gary was murdered, and The Rock, er, Driver, is out to avenge his brother's murder, one by one. That's really all you need to know, because the plot doesn't get much deeper than that.
Matter of fact, I think that if you know your film is going to be a piece of crap--and I assure you that somewhere in production, the producers looked at each other and said something like "Wow, The Rock or no The Rock, this movie is going blow chunks"--you as a filmmaker have a responsiblity, NAY, a duty to the moviegoing public, at least the male ticket buyers, to just put a pic of Maggie Grace in her LOST bikini in the corner and leave it there, so we'll have something to occupy our time while the horrible film goes on.
Let's be real here. I only saw this because as a guy with a mancrush on The Rock, I try and support his films. Take out The Rock and insert Jason Statham or Vin Diesel, and I save my money. However, I can say that I have no problem giving The Rock my buck. Cause, The Rock rocks.
One thing I have to keep reminding myself is... this blog is taking off. Seriously. Randomly, I look over and another person has become a "follower", or has left a comment making me say, "Who the heck is this?" Anyway, got some propz from a reader named Nutsy--no knowledge as to whether thats a cute nickname her hubby gave her or a statement on her mental awareness--who looks like she's from the Northeast. She added me to her own blogroll, so I felt compelled to do the same... her website is called "Miss Gracie: New Adventures on an Old Boat", and its worth a look. She seems to be like me... she just writes whatever strikes her fancy, and hopes that someone finds it worth a look.
Appearing in this film are young versions of Ben Affleck (playing a guy named Chesty!) and Chris O'Donnell (before Robin) and Anthony Rapp (before "Rent") and Matt Damon (before anything), and its so bad its awesome. Not sure why they decided a shower fight scene between Fraser and Damon was a good idea (its PG-13, don't worry) but it just adds to the ridiculousness of "School Ties".
Now, I'm just sitting on the couch, chilling out, relaxing all cool, you know, shooting some b'ball outside of the school... okay, thats not true. Thats too much excercise. It is a beautiful day outside, and some may criticize me for not being in it... but what would I do? Run? Go stand on the corner, inhale the fresh Birmingham/Hoover air and mutter out loud, "Wow, what a pretty day!"? Nah, I just like it here in The Cabana, all the windows open, the bright sunshine pouring in, and a bad Steven Seagal movie playing on the TV, on a channel with no HD, making it fuzzy, which probably makes it more enjoyable.
I guess "Bad Steven Seagal Movie" is itself an oxymoron.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
So, The Rock, who I have a total mancrush on, is back in the WWE. It was a glorious return on this past Monday Night Raw, and I watched the twenty minutes or so he was on about three times. He was in fine form, shouting out things like, "Layeth the smacketh down on your candy a#(@*" and "Know your role and shut your mouth!" and "All you jabronis..." It made me giggle. He rules. He... well, Rocks.
And of course, the big news is, he'll be "hosting" Wrestlemania XXVII, this time in Atlanta, Georgia, on April 2nd. Myself and my best mate Wookiee had been discussing going anyway, and we were tossing back and forth about a third like Danny Ocean talking to Rusty in "Ocean's Eleven"... "We need one more? You think we need one more? Okay, we'll get one more..."
So enter Big Tom Johnson, another former Deucemate. The discussion of whether we go to Wrestlemania XXVII shifted to overdrive when I found out that The Rock will be there, and a major part of it. Toss in the possibility that Kevin "Diesel"/"Big Daddy Kool" Nash may be there, as well as Booker T, and even the outside shot that WCW'er Sting might show up--highly unlikely, but then again, so was The Rock's return to regular WWE appearances... anyway, add all that in, and the discussion went from "are we going?" to "how fast can we get tickets?"
A visit to StubHub (stuuuuubhub!) today got us some tickets. Granted, we are in the upper upper deck, and granted we'll be about 10 rows from the top of the Georgia Dome, and granted everyone, Diesel, The Rock and The Big Show included, will look about an inch tall from our seats, but WE WILL BE AT WRESTLEMANIA. If you could get Super Bowl tickets, you'd take 'em, no matter where you were sitting. And at about $67 bucks a pop, you just want to say you were there. April 2nd, we will be. I rule.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Speaking of The Rock, I just, in the middle of writing this blog post, left The Cabana, drove over to the ghetto and paid a buck at the dollar theater to see The Rock's latest film, "Faster". To say that "Faster" is a bad film is understating the words "Bad Film". This movie is flat out terrible.
The Rock plays a character only known as Driver, and that's not his name, that's apparently his role in a bank heist that ended up putting him in prison for ten years. He and his brother Gary were set up, Gary was murdered, and The Rock, er, Driver, is out to avenge his brother's murder, one by one. That's really all you need to know, because the plot doesn't get much deeper than that.
 |
| This picture in the corner of the screen would have been better viewing the actual movie. Just sayin'. |
Oh, well there is some nonsense about a double cross, and a plot twist that I saw coming about thirty minutes into the film, there's Mr. Eko from LOST, there's Carla Gugino looking extremely Carla Guginoey, there's Billy Bob Thornton mailing it in and wearing a horrible hairpiece, and finally, I'd like to put forth a theory that any movie can be made better by inserting Maggie Grace in there somewhere. She's in this film, and thought I'm not sure why, it helped the scenery a hundred percent.
Let's be real here. I only saw this because as a guy with a mancrush on The Rock, I try and support his films. Take out The Rock and insert Jason Statham or Vin Diesel, and I save my money. However, I can say that I have no problem giving The Rock my buck. Cause, The Rock rocks.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
One thing I have to keep reminding myself is... this blog is taking off. Seriously. Randomly, I look over and another person has become a "follower", or has left a comment making me say, "Who the heck is this?" Anyway, got some propz from a reader named Nutsy--no knowledge as to whether thats a cute nickname her hubby gave her or a statement on her mental awareness--who looks like she's from the Northeast. She added me to her own blogroll, so I felt compelled to do the same... her website is called "Miss Gracie: New Adventures on an Old Boat", and its worth a look. She seems to be like me... she just writes whatever strikes her fancy, and hopes that someone finds it worth a look.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Wanted to mention another site too, started by a friend of mine, Scotty Latta and a buddy of his... its called "Joust", and its a brilliant idea, really. The tagline is "Pick Your Battles", and essentially, it lets you compete against other people in contests ranging from sports games to The Bachelor. I personally don't watch the latter, but I am already signed up for American Idol's league, which will come into play when the Top 24 is revealed. There is no money involved, there's very little gambling terminology tossed around (parlays and over/unders and such), its just picking your battles. Find it Joust at JoustNow dot com, or just click here.
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I'm flipping channels and stumbling upon a gem. "School Ties". Have you ever actually seen this movie? Its from 1992, and stars Brendan Fraser as David Greene, a teenager in 1955 Pennsylvania, who gets a scholarship to a hoity toity prep school in Massachusetts, St. Matthews. Problem is, David Greene is Jewish, and St. Matthews is Protestant, so the whole film is all about prejudice and stereotypes...
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| Here's Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and Chris O'Donnell, along with Randall Batinkoff, who went from starring in this hit to... nothing. |
So David Greene is on the football team, the star QB, the reason he was brought to the school, and everyone is cool with him, he becomes popular, gets him a chick on the swim team (Amy Locane, before the vehicular manslaughter) at a nearby chick prep school, and it seems like everything is awesome... until his secret is discovered. Then everyone turns on him, including implicating him in a big cheating scandal.
If you come across this film close to the beginning, watch it, enjoy it and dig it. Didn't even need Maggie Grace in the corner (course she was nine at the time...ew...) but toss The Rock in there and you go from ridiculously awesome to ridiculously awesomer.
Cause The Rock... well, rocks.
The Productive Kicks (and other dangers of homeownership)
Coming to you live and direct from Starbucks on Hwy 280 & Hwy 119... because? Because my modem, the one we paid for when we first got AT&T DSL service, decided, "Eh, bunk this. I'm done." And now we have nothing but a little green flashing light that is barely flashing green. Naturally, because this is how it always works, its out of warranty, so we have to pay a cost to have it replaced. Not only is it $40, which I guess for a modem isn't bad, but we also have to pay $14.95 shipping for 3-5 days ground service. This, my fellow readers, is what is known in common circles as "a racket".
If you've ever seen this kind of modem, its about the size of an index card, about as thick as two stacked iPhones, and weighs less than a roll of quarters. I actually told the lady, "Seriously, $14.95? Can you not just shove it into a padded envelope and mail it for like, $6 or something?" Of course she said she could do no such thing, and so, no modem until next Wednesday... hopefully, its next Wednesday because... next Wednesday? That's right...
THAT
IS
AMERICAN IDOL
For what its worth, I've already asked The Lovely Steph Leann if she is in for Idol, and she says she is. So I guess I am to. I think we've already discussed this in a previous post, so we'll get to Idol next week.
So, our toilet is jacked up too. Upstairs in our master bathroom. The darn thing has been leaking water down the pipes for two months, and in typical d$-N-The Lovely Steph Leann fashion, we finally got around to doing something about it... well, sort of. I bought a $10 part at Wal-Mart and figured I would just replace the whole mechanism in the tank. Easy enough, right? On the box, it says in bright, bold letters, "EASY TO INSTALL!" and when you flip the box over, it goes even further by saying "INSTALLS IN MINUTES!!"
Not many words are more false than "EASY TO INSTALL" and "INSTALLS IN MINUTES" aside from something like "OBAMA CARES FOR YOU", but hey, I am a homeowner. This is what homeowners do, right? They fix their own small problems. So I bought the part... and that was Phase I. The part sat in our master bathroom for about, I dunno, two months, collecting dust in the unopened box until I got the gumption for Phase II.
Phase II always comes in when I get my "productive kicks". This constitutes an afternoon, or an evening, sometimes even a whole day, when my whole mindset is focused on getting things done that should have been done long, long ago. Sometimes, I'll pull apart and put back together, reorganized, entire rooms of the house... I'll sort through CDs and books and shed myself of unused or unwanted items... I'll clean the entire kitchen, getting all dishes from around the house into the dishwasher, and if said kick lasts long enough, I'll get them out and put them away, all so The Lovely Steph Leann can come home to a dirty-dish-free environment.
I have to be careful, though... sometimes I'll get knee deep into a project and then fall out of my productive binge just as easily as I got into it. And thats dangerous, because if I've got a mess around me, with intentions of reorganizing, sorting or disposing, and suddenly I lose all ambition, then I've got to put everything back, and it all goes back haphazardly and usually with no sort of sense.
Last week, I got into a Productive Kick.
Okay, I know this started with the toilet, and now I'm going to talk about baseboards, but I promise you, we'll tie this into toilets, so bare with me, okay?
When we moved into The Cabana, we had plans for the upstairs. The whole house had been painted with a drab, generic taupe color (The Lovely Steph Leann will read this and correct me, I'm sure, but it was a basic greyish, brownish, whitish, blahish color) and we wanted to paint each room of the house at some point. Before we even moved in, our brother in law Randy painted our bedroom, which still looks great almost three years later.
The middle bedroom was to be a guest room, but we were going to keep some books in there, our CDs, a desk, and a futon we purchased for guests to sleep on. Eventually, when Campbell Isaiah and/or Lorelei Addison make their appearance, that room will become a nursery. And The Lovely Steph Leann had plans for that back bedroom... it was to become her Creative Memories crop room
SIDEBAR... The Lovely Steph Leann is an extremely talented photograph rescue specialist, as well as a memory sustainer operationalist. That's fancy words for saying she is a Creative Memories consultant, which means she deals in scrapbooking--wait, wait, don't go away... scrapbooking is far and beyond pasting pictures into a book with little pieces of construction paper... it, like the rest of the free world, has gone digital. So not only can she help you salvage all those pictures and precious memories you have lying in a box in a drawer by converting them to digital, she has also started a service where she takes your pictures, thusly taking the work off of your hands, and will make books for you. Imagine a yearbook, full color, except every picture has one of your memories, your family members, your friends, your kids, et al in it (instead Brandy, the head cheerleader and not so coincindentally the yearbook editor which explains why she is on 14 different pages out of a 50 page book)... anyway, her site is here, but you can also find me and ask for her info for a price quote and such. She's awesome.
So, the back room was/is going to be her crop room. She went to IKEA with her cousin, spent way too much money there--its like, when you walk up to the doors, they ask you how much you expect to spend, and when you tell them, they add 35% and tell you that is the new number you will spend... and they are right.
She came back from IKEA with a bunch of home items, including a desk that will be assembled for her crop room. Now, in the corner of that room is a large "bonus room"... when we moved in, it was nothing but rafters, studs and insulation, but we paid them an extra $50 to pipe a vent in that area, and Big Daddy Ron came over and we (and by we, I mean he) put up sheetrock, put a door and door frame to block off the heating unit, added a ceiling and covered up the rafters and had it painted.
After the room was finished, we had it carpeted and then I painted baseboards, to which we (and by we, I mean he) installed them in the bonus room.
Its important to note, however, that from the time we had the room finished to the time that the baseboards were installed should have taken about a month. Maybe two. Four if we are really lazy. It actually took about two years. Cause we just never got around to doing it. The baseboards actually sat in our living room floor, stretching into the kitchen, for about a month or so, because I just never got around to getting them into the garage and painting them... trust me, The Lovely Steph Leann was on me just about every day for it, as well she should have been.
Alright, so we got them painted, got them installed, and they needed to be touched up. When the touch up occurs, then we can put that desk together, and then that room, which is still filled with boxes and stuff--no other way to describe it than "stuff"--will be on the road to being completed.
Now, back to the toilet... well, not quite, but we're getting there. After about two months, I finally decided it was time to not only get the toilet fixed, but also get those baseboards touched up. With The Lovely Steph Leann downstairs watching HGTV (for some reason, she's been obsessed with HGTV... really, most of the shows on that channel could be called "Renovations You'll Never Do On Houses You'll Never Afford... So Come and See the New Deck, Loser") I went to the laundry room, pulled down the two cans of paint that were previously used to do the baseboards--each can looks exactly alike, so its the same paint, right?--and then disappeared into the back bedroom, and on into the bonus room. I had purchased a paint brush and some painters tape a few months back, and now that I think about it, probably at the same time I purchased the toilet unit, and so I went to work.
I laid old sheets carefully down on the carpet, the new carpet which still smelled like just that, and still had that springy step of not being used much, and then used the wide blue painters tape to tape off the wall and the carpet. About four or five inches out on the carpet, about three inches up the wall, all the way around, the ten feet of one wall, the foot or so on each side of the door, then another twelve or thirteen feet on the long wall, then the side wall for another five feet, then back around the closet door again.
I shook the can briskly, hearing the slosh of paint inside, and was so happy. This was going to be quick and painless, I'd knock this out in about twenty minutes, and since my Productive Kicks usually last a few hours, who knows what I could get done, right? Right!
(play cool working music) With a screw driver, I pulled the cap off, then used a plastic piece of a broken clothes hanger to stir the can up. And then, I dipped the small brush in and began to paint the boards. Left, right, left, right, dip. Left, left, right right, dip. Left, right, left, rig (cue screeching sound of record needle being ripped off of an LP). I stared at the baseboard. The baseboard all the way around the wall was a creamy, dark white color. The color that I had now splashed on about 14 inches of this baseboard was a lighter white. And very noticable. I looked at the can, and inside the can, then looked at the other can. Just alike. I opened up the other can, and saw that the other color was darker. Creamier. Kind of a... well, a creamy, dark white color.
Now, one could assume that this 2nd color is the right one, that I should immediately begin to use this other color to cover up the white that I've descrated the baseboard with... but, as with many things in the past, I figured it was time to ask the boss. This ruined my plan of being able to come downstairs and say, "Hey, dear, guess what, the baseboards are all done! Let's put that desk together!" Instead, I came downstairs and softly said, "Hey... uh... what color are the baseboards upstairs, in the back closet room?" She looked up and thought for a minute, "Um... I think its... Signature Creamy, I believe." Then she eyed me. "Are you... doing the baseboards?" I nodded, and she smiled, "Thanks!" and then went back to the HGTV show she was involved in. So much for surprise.
Back upstairs, I looked at both cans. One said "Signature Creamy", in tiny letters on a small sticker that I didn't see. One said something else. And, because I've used 3,000 words telling this story, you can guess which color was on the baseboards and which color should have been. So, I used the new color, and really, got the boards done in about twenty minutes. Mostly, it was just covering up the nails and screws that had been used to put the baseboards in place, and it was done.
Okay, to the toilets... Well, we don't want to let a Productive Kick go to waste, so I immediately head to our bathroom. I grab the box, which had somehow made it way into our closet and was leaning up against our laundry basket, and take it into the bathroom. I pull down some unused, old towels and spread them out on the floor around the toilet bowl, and then flush the water out of the toilet, turning the water off before it could fill up again. I take the top off of the tank and set it carefully aside, and then use old towels to sponge up the remaining few inches of water in the tank. Need it dry for my toilet transplant, which really should take, what, twenty minutes again? Maybe thirty? Thats one hour of a Productive Kick, and who knows what else I could get done? Scour the garage? Scrub down our porch? Build a deck? Yeah! I'm rolling!
I open the box and pull the piece out. And those words "EASY TO INSTALL" and "INSTALLS IN MINUTES!" are atop the instructions, and as I scan the diagram, it doesn't seem that hard, right? Right. I pull out the comparable piece in the tank, and am all set to put in the new piece... this is going to be great! I mean, painted baseboards, get the toilet to work, The Lovely Steph Leann is going to fall into the arms of her wonderful handy man and all will be right with the world, right? Right!
Wrong!
Yeah, there's a piece that won't come out of the bottom of the tank. After banging it a few times, trying my best to unscrew it with several forms of plier apparatuses, pushing and pulling with my own bare fingers, I gave up. My Productive Kick was fading, and really, I just wanted to go get some tacos.
Well, a week later, our toilet still doesn't work. We got Big Daddy Ron involved, and he had a hard time with it too. As he tried to remove the piece I couldn't get out, he asked me if I had a crescent wrench. I laughed and said, "Uh... no."
"Man, you gotta get some tools," he replied.
"Dude, if I can't fix it with a regular pair of pliers, a screw driver or duct tape, then I can't fix it and a set of a dozen crescent wrenches isn't going to help me in the least..." I replied back.
We (and by we, I mean he) concluded it was a faulty seal, one that is in the other piece that I didn't try to replace nor bought a part for, and he got it from Home Depot later. With the seal replaced, the water still leaked. And it leaks now.
Luckily, we have a bathroom down the hall which The Lovely Steph Leann and I are using. Its not as comfortable, but it will do.
I guess this falls under "The Problems of the Blessed", cause we have two more working bathrooms, the money to call a plumber (we just want to avoid it if at all possible), baseboards that are done in a room that will be a large closet that will be full of stuff we really should get rid of, and The Lovely Steph Leann still loves me no matter what color I paint wrong, nor how I mess up while repairing the toilet.
Its just inconvenient, ya know? Such is life. I'll just sit back and wait for another Productive Kick and maybe I'll just build a new house.
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| This is not the actual offending modem, but one like it, so you get the idea. |
THAT
IS
AMERICAN IDOL
For what its worth, I've already asked The Lovely Steph Leann if she is in for Idol, and she says she is. So I guess I am to. I think we've already discussed this in a previous post, so we'll get to Idol next week.
So, our toilet is jacked up too. Upstairs in our master bathroom. The darn thing has been leaking water down the pipes for two months, and in typical d$-N-The Lovely Steph Leann fashion, we finally got around to doing something about it... well, sort of. I bought a $10 part at Wal-Mart and figured I would just replace the whole mechanism in the tank. Easy enough, right? On the box, it says in bright, bold letters, "EASY TO INSTALL!" and when you flip the box over, it goes even further by saying "INSTALLS IN MINUTES!!"
Not many words are more false than "EASY TO INSTALL" and "INSTALLS IN MINUTES" aside from something like "OBAMA CARES FOR YOU", but hey, I am a homeowner. This is what homeowners do, right? They fix their own small problems. So I bought the part... and that was Phase I. The part sat in our master bathroom for about, I dunno, two months, collecting dust in the unopened box until I got the gumption for Phase II.
Phase II always comes in when I get my "productive kicks". This constitutes an afternoon, or an evening, sometimes even a whole day, when my whole mindset is focused on getting things done that should have been done long, long ago. Sometimes, I'll pull apart and put back together, reorganized, entire rooms of the house... I'll sort through CDs and books and shed myself of unused or unwanted items... I'll clean the entire kitchen, getting all dishes from around the house into the dishwasher, and if said kick lasts long enough, I'll get them out and put them away, all so The Lovely Steph Leann can come home to a dirty-dish-free environment.
I have to be careful, though... sometimes I'll get knee deep into a project and then fall out of my productive binge just as easily as I got into it. And thats dangerous, because if I've got a mess around me, with intentions of reorganizing, sorting or disposing, and suddenly I lose all ambition, then I've got to put everything back, and it all goes back haphazardly and usually with no sort of sense.
Last week, I got into a Productive Kick.
Okay, I know this started with the toilet, and now I'm going to talk about baseboards, but I promise you, we'll tie this into toilets, so bare with me, okay?
When we moved into The Cabana, we had plans for the upstairs. The whole house had been painted with a drab, generic taupe color (The Lovely Steph Leann will read this and correct me, I'm sure, but it was a basic greyish, brownish, whitish, blahish color) and we wanted to paint each room of the house at some point. Before we even moved in, our brother in law Randy painted our bedroom, which still looks great almost three years later.
The middle bedroom was to be a guest room, but we were going to keep some books in there, our CDs, a desk, and a futon we purchased for guests to sleep on. Eventually, when Campbell Isaiah and/or Lorelei Addison make their appearance, that room will become a nursery. And The Lovely Steph Leann had plans for that back bedroom... it was to become her Creative Memories crop room
SIDEBAR... The Lovely Steph Leann is an extremely talented photograph rescue specialist, as well as a memory sustainer operationalist. That's fancy words for saying she is a Creative Memories consultant, which means she deals in scrapbooking--wait, wait, don't go away... scrapbooking is far and beyond pasting pictures into a book with little pieces of construction paper... it, like the rest of the free world, has gone digital. So not only can she help you salvage all those pictures and precious memories you have lying in a box in a drawer by converting them to digital, she has also started a service where she takes your pictures, thusly taking the work off of your hands, and will make books for you. Imagine a yearbook, full color, except every picture has one of your memories, your family members, your friends, your kids, et al in it (instead Brandy, the head cheerleader and not so coincindentally the yearbook editor which explains why she is on 14 different pages out of a 50 page book)... anyway, her site is here, but you can also find me and ask for her info for a price quote and such. She's awesome.
So, the back room was/is going to be her crop room. She went to IKEA with her cousin, spent way too much money there--its like, when you walk up to the doors, they ask you how much you expect to spend, and when you tell them, they add 35% and tell you that is the new number you will spend... and they are right.
She came back from IKEA with a bunch of home items, including a desk that will be assembled for her crop room. Now, in the corner of that room is a large "bonus room"... when we moved in, it was nothing but rafters, studs and insulation, but we paid them an extra $50 to pipe a vent in that area, and Big Daddy Ron came over and we (and by we, I mean he) put up sheetrock, put a door and door frame to block off the heating unit, added a ceiling and covered up the rafters and had it painted.
After the room was finished, we had it carpeted and then I painted baseboards, to which we (and by we, I mean he) installed them in the bonus room.
Its important to note, however, that from the time we had the room finished to the time that the baseboards were installed should have taken about a month. Maybe two. Four if we are really lazy. It actually took about two years. Cause we just never got around to doing it. The baseboards actually sat in our living room floor, stretching into the kitchen, for about a month or so, because I just never got around to getting them into the garage and painting them... trust me, The Lovely Steph Leann was on me just about every day for it, as well she should have been.
Alright, so we got them painted, got them installed, and they needed to be touched up. When the touch up occurs, then we can put that desk together, and then that room, which is still filled with boxes and stuff--no other way to describe it than "stuff"--will be on the road to being completed.
I laid old sheets carefully down on the carpet, the new carpet which still smelled like just that, and still had that springy step of not being used much, and then used the wide blue painters tape to tape off the wall and the carpet. About four or five inches out on the carpet, about three inches up the wall, all the way around, the ten feet of one wall, the foot or so on each side of the door, then another twelve or thirteen feet on the long wall, then the side wall for another five feet, then back around the closet door again.
I shook the can briskly, hearing the slosh of paint inside, and was so happy. This was going to be quick and painless, I'd knock this out in about twenty minutes, and since my Productive Kicks usually last a few hours, who knows what I could get done, right? Right!
(play cool working music) With a screw driver, I pulled the cap off, then used a plastic piece of a broken clothes hanger to stir the can up. And then, I dipped the small brush in and began to paint the boards. Left, right, left, right, dip. Left, left, right right, dip. Left, right, left, rig (cue screeching sound of record needle being ripped off of an LP). I stared at the baseboard. The baseboard all the way around the wall was a creamy, dark white color. The color that I had now splashed on about 14 inches of this baseboard was a lighter white. And very noticable. I looked at the can, and inside the can, then looked at the other can. Just alike. I opened up the other can, and saw that the other color was darker. Creamier. Kind of a... well, a creamy, dark white color.
Now, one could assume that this 2nd color is the right one, that I should immediately begin to use this other color to cover up the white that I've descrated the baseboard with... but, as with many things in the past, I figured it was time to ask the boss. This ruined my plan of being able to come downstairs and say, "Hey, dear, guess what, the baseboards are all done! Let's put that desk together!" Instead, I came downstairs and softly said, "Hey... uh... what color are the baseboards upstairs, in the back closet room?" She looked up and thought for a minute, "Um... I think its... Signature Creamy, I believe." Then she eyed me. "Are you... doing the baseboards?" I nodded, and she smiled, "Thanks!" and then went back to the HGTV show she was involved in. So much for surprise.
Back upstairs, I looked at both cans. One said "Signature Creamy", in tiny letters on a small sticker that I didn't see. One said something else. And, because I've used 3,000 words telling this story, you can guess which color was on the baseboards and which color should have been. So, I used the new color, and really, got the boards done in about twenty minutes. Mostly, it was just covering up the nails and screws that had been used to put the baseboards in place, and it was done.
Okay, to the toilets... Well, we don't want to let a Productive Kick go to waste, so I immediately head to our bathroom. I grab the box, which had somehow made it way into our closet and was leaning up against our laundry basket, and take it into the bathroom. I pull down some unused, old towels and spread them out on the floor around the toilet bowl, and then flush the water out of the toilet, turning the water off before it could fill up again. I take the top off of the tank and set it carefully aside, and then use old towels to sponge up the remaining few inches of water in the tank. Need it dry for my toilet transplant, which really should take, what, twenty minutes again? Maybe thirty? Thats one hour of a Productive Kick, and who knows what else I could get done? Scour the garage? Scrub down our porch? Build a deck? Yeah! I'm rolling!
Wrong!
Yeah, there's a piece that won't come out of the bottom of the tank. After banging it a few times, trying my best to unscrew it with several forms of plier apparatuses, pushing and pulling with my own bare fingers, I gave up. My Productive Kick was fading, and really, I just wanted to go get some tacos.
Well, a week later, our toilet still doesn't work. We got Big Daddy Ron involved, and he had a hard time with it too. As he tried to remove the piece I couldn't get out, he asked me if I had a crescent wrench. I laughed and said, "Uh... no."
"Man, you gotta get some tools," he replied.
"Dude, if I can't fix it with a regular pair of pliers, a screw driver or duct tape, then I can't fix it and a set of a dozen crescent wrenches isn't going to help me in the least..." I replied back.
We (and by we, I mean he) concluded it was a faulty seal, one that is in the other piece that I didn't try to replace nor bought a part for, and he got it from Home Depot later. With the seal replaced, the water still leaked. And it leaks now.
Luckily, we have a bathroom down the hall which The Lovely Steph Leann and I are using. Its not as comfortable, but it will do.
I guess this falls under "The Problems of the Blessed", cause we have two more working bathrooms, the money to call a plumber (we just want to avoid it if at all possible), baseboards that are done in a room that will be a large closet that will be full of stuff we really should get rid of, and The Lovely Steph Leann still loves me no matter what color I paint wrong, nor how I mess up while repairing the toilet.
Its just inconvenient, ya know? Such is life. I'll just sit back and wait for another Productive Kick and maybe I'll just build a new house.
What's the Story, Morning Glory?
"UPDATE"
Mom is alive. Not well, not kicking, not healthy, but alive. Thanks for praying and thinking of her and our family.
"ITS ALL IN THE WRIST"
I was watching the end of the 13th ranked movie on The Dave100, and was about to watch "The Bounty Hunter" with Gerard Butler and Jennifer Aniston when I looked over to see The Lovely Steph Leann cuddled up in her pink Snuggie. She's got her eyes closed, earbuds in, trying to desperately finish an audiobook that she checked out online and is due to expire at midnight tonight.
She doesn't like it when I turn on movies she hasn't seen, and wants too, so I hit the DVR button on "The Bounty Hunter" to watch it later, even though I've heard its a dreadful film. I'm also DVR'ing "The Book of Eli", a great film I did see early this year, and am excited about seeing again later.
So, to pass the time while I write a little on a late Saturday night, I turned it on The Speed Channel, for a classic episode of "Pimp My Ride"... and here's my thoughts for the night...
So, I've noted the fact that I seldom, if ever, actually get sick. I wake up with a slightly sore throat or not feeling all that well, and by noon, I'm just right as rain. Maybe I have a sniffle here and there, but overall, I'm cool. Sometimes, however, I do pass it on to The Lovely Steph Leann--I can't be selfish and take all the infection, so I want to share.
Getting hurt, however, is another story. Back in May of 2009, I told the story of the infected finger and the attack that my eyes waged on my body, then earlier this year, my left eye attacked me, and who can forget the coffee inferno that erupted on my foot?
Now? I'm in a splint.
About a week or so ago, I was working on our order that had just come into the store. It had been piled up quite high, but several of us were working hard on getting it organized, dispersed and off of the cafe floor--I had only a few boxes left, and was trying to help Melanie Z from dealing with it later.
I lifted a box of coffee, a box of oatmeal and some frap roast mix, and as I turned around to my left to take a step, I didn't see the two boxes of apple juice that lay motionless on the floor. My shins hit the boxes, and I lost complete control. The coffee, the oatmeal and the frap roast mix flew through the air, landed on the tile with a skid and slid across the floor. I followed very closely behind, hitting the ground hard, landing on my left knee and my left hand/wrist.
A few customers came over and helped me up, made sure I was okay, I told them I was. I shook it off, laughed a little, thanked them for their help. I made my way to the back room, where as soon as I turned the corner out of sight, I slumped to the floor, holding my knee close to my chest, fighting a scream of pain. A single tear trickled down my cheek.
One of my co-workers, Vee, walked back and saw me, and simply said, "Wow. You're not alright." I laughed through the tear, saying, "I'm sure I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." My knee hurt so, so bad. So, for the next several days, I walked with a slight limp as my knee, bruised and and battered, began to heal itself. Stairs were horrible, but over the last week, I think its going away.
However comma
...I did notice that my left wrist was not feeling as great. In fact, it kinda had a little pain to it, depending on which way I turned it. By mid-week, my wrist and hand just hurt when I worked, and by Friday morning, turning a door knob, pushing down the white mocha pump or picking up a gallon of milk with that hand made it hurt like crazy. Off to see Dr. Vance on Friday afternoon, and he poked and prodded a little, got an X-ray and made sure it wasn't gangrenous, or riddled with AIDS or anything of that sort. Nope, just a sprain on the wrist, one that will...
...one that will...
...one... will.... that.... wi...
...
...so, as I typed those previous words, I fell asleep. Like, zonked out. It was only for a brief few seconds, but it was long enough for my hand on my mouse to slip, the mouse to crash onto the keyboard, and The Lovely Steph Leann to wake up and stare at me. I decided it was time for bed, so between the words "one that will" and right now, I've slept 8 hours, I've gone to church, I've had lunch with Hurricane Rhett, Amarylis by Morning (up from san antone), JustFish and his wife Kelly Kelly at Ruby Tuesdays, I've gone by the cigar shop to buy a gift card for my brother-in-law for Christmas, I've watched The Lovely Steph Leann pass out on the couch again, I've talked to Melanie Z on the phone about tomorrow at work, and I've listened to half of Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now" album.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, my wrist. It'll heal. In about a week or so.
The whole point of that entire story was that now I have a splint on my left wrist. I told Melanie Z a few minutes ago, "Ya know, I don't get sick. I just get hurt." And get old.
"NEED YOU NOW"
Speaking of Lady Antebellum, is there a better country song out right now than "Need You Now"? I mean, this song has everything--being drunk, being desperate, being broken hearted and hurt, and a hot chick singing half the song. I'll be honest with ya, for the first few times I heard it, the opening keys on the piano makes it sound a little like "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe, but there are few songs that are farther apart in subject than "I Can Only Imagine" and "Need You Now".
Was watching some video clip show on CMT, and this song came up, and Darius Rucker put it perfectly... "The song is beautiful... but when you listen to it, it's about nothing more than a booty call. A late, desperate, drunk booty call. But they sing it beautifully."
"MORNING GLORY"
I feel so behind when it comes to movies... I did a count today at church, while a slow song was being sung during the choir concert, and I and/or we have seen about 33 movies at the theater this year, and another three that were 2010 movies I and/or we have seen on DVR, premium cable, NetFlix or OnDemand pay-per-view.
Harrison. Smile once in a while. Seriously.
Anyway, back to "Morning Glory", this role is perfect for him. Mike Pomeroy is bitter, is angry, feels like his lot in life sucks, and even though he was very successful back in the day, he fees like this new spot for him on the morning show is beneath him. Ford trudges through the film with grunts and growls and scowls, and if you didn't know any better, he might have just as much contempt for being in this movie as his character does for being on the show in question.
"UNSTOPPABLE"
Another movie we saw recently was "Unstoppable", starring Chris Pine (Star Trek) and Denzel Washington, and its premise is simple... they work on a train line. They go out on what is supposed to be an easy, somewhat boring train transfer, moving a train and its cars from one town to the next in rural, blue collar Pittsburgh.
In another part of the state, two bumbling engineers accidentally let a train get away from them. Just so happens this train is pretty huge. Just so happens that its carrying toxic chemicals. Just so happens that there is a train full of school kids on a field trip not too far up the track. Just so happens that there is a dangerous part of the track up the road. Just so happens this runaway train is, well, unstoppable. Just so happens that... Denzel and Chris Pine are on the other train and are going to save the day.
Just so happens... I loved the heck out of this movie. You know, sometimes you just want to be entertained, you don't want to think too much, you don't want to be taught anything or preached to or leave the theater dwelling on the film's message and so on... with "Unstoppable", none of that happens. Its not a dumb movie, it just doesn't pretend to be anything that its not... its simply an action film with two likable leads on one train, trying to stop another train from going really, really fast.
This is one of those films that I liked watching now, and when it comes on Starz around May or so, it will be fun to leave on in the background while I'm doing other things around the house.
"NO TREE"
If you come to The Cabana, you won't see a Christmas tree in our living room. You won't see stockings on the mantle, you won't find lights hung around the railing out on the porch, or a giant Mickey in a Santa suit sitting in the corner.
The reason why? We didn't put a tree up this year. See, I've always poked fun at those people who had their tree up in November, before Thanksgiving... in my mind, Christmas doesn't start until Thanksgiving is over, regardless of Wal-Mart having their trimmings up in September.
But, I kinda understand why people put it up before Thanksgiving. See, our tree is huge. Its a decent tree, its 7.5 feet, and its big. Its one of those older trees where there are branches to install in the tree, first the bottom row, then the next, then the next, then a few more, until you get 2/3rds the way up the tree, then you stick on the top part. The branches are supposedly color coded, but the white and the yellow look awfully alike, and the yellow has two levels and its just a nightmare.
I've got to drag this thing out, put all the branches on, then we have to deal with gaps. Then we have to deal with lights... though I'm thinking that, starting next year, I'm going to toss every single strand of lights we have here out into the garbage... lights are now about $1 or $2 a box, so I can spend $10 a year to have fresh lights that I don't have to worry about. The Lovely Steph Leann is all about colored lights, so they are even cheaper.
Anyway, after the lights finally go up, we've got the ornaments. I came into this marriage with about a dozen or so ornaments, whileshe came in with about 779 ornaments. And she wants every. single. one of them. on the tree.
When Thanksgiving is over, we just get busy. Really, really busy. We had a weekend away that resulted in us spending a few days in Disney World, meeting up with some very dear friends while we were there. We figured when we got back, we'd get the tree up. When we got back, we were tired, we were lazy, we figured we'd get the tree up in a few days.
A few more days go by, and I finally ask The Lovely Steph Leann, "What if... what if we didn't put a tree up?" She pauses, reflects for a minute, and said, "Well, I hope that this doesn't start a tradition of not putting a tree up..." I told her that we would put it up, just maybe not this year.
Mid-December comes around, and no tree still. The Lovely Steph Leann informs me that we aren't putting up a tree until we clean the floor. My argument was simply, why clean the floor when we are putting a tree down, with a tree skirt over it covering the area. Why not clean it after the tree is put away in January? No dice, says the wife. No floor, no tree. I said I wasn't cleaning that part of the floor, and its a stalemate.
Then, a few days ago, The Lovely Steph Leann says, "Well, I'm in agreement... we don't have to put a tree up this year. Just so long as we don't make this a permanent thing." I shake my head, thinking that oh, we'll get it up at some point soon.
And here we are, the weekend before Christmas, no tree. And there won't be a tree this year at The Cabana. Next year, I'm going to become one of those people that I made fun of... our tree is going up in mid-November, BEFORE Thanksgiving. So when Thanksgiving rolls around, our tree is up, and we don't have to worry about it.
And it will be a new tree. Not the beastly monster that we have now, but something a little easier, maybe not smaller, but easier to put up. Its gotta hold 779 ornaments, after all.
Mom is alive. Not well, not kicking, not healthy, but alive. Thanks for praying and thinking of her and our family.
"ITS ALL IN THE WRIST"
I was watching the end of the 13th ranked movie on The Dave100, and was about to watch "The Bounty Hunter" with Gerard Butler and Jennifer Aniston when I looked over to see The Lovely Steph Leann cuddled up in her pink Snuggie. She's got her eyes closed, earbuds in, trying to desperately finish an audiobook that she checked out online and is due to expire at midnight tonight.
 |
| The Lovely Steph Leann, catching a few winks in the evening |
So, to pass the time while I write a little on a late Saturday night, I turned it on The Speed Channel, for a classic episode of "Pimp My Ride"... and here's my thoughts for the night...
So, I've noted the fact that I seldom, if ever, actually get sick. I wake up with a slightly sore throat or not feeling all that well, and by noon, I'm just right as rain. Maybe I have a sniffle here and there, but overall, I'm cool. Sometimes, however, I do pass it on to The Lovely Steph Leann--I can't be selfish and take all the infection, so I want to share.
Getting hurt, however, is another story. Back in May of 2009, I told the story of the infected finger and the attack that my eyes waged on my body, then earlier this year, my left eye attacked me, and who can forget the coffee inferno that erupted on my foot?
Now? I'm in a splint.
About a week or so ago, I was working on our order that had just come into the store. It had been piled up quite high, but several of us were working hard on getting it organized, dispersed and off of the cafe floor--I had only a few boxes left, and was trying to help Melanie Z from dealing with it later.
I lifted a box of coffee, a box of oatmeal and some frap roast mix, and as I turned around to my left to take a step, I didn't see the two boxes of apple juice that lay motionless on the floor. My shins hit the boxes, and I lost complete control. The coffee, the oatmeal and the frap roast mix flew through the air, landed on the tile with a skid and slid across the floor. I followed very closely behind, hitting the ground hard, landing on my left knee and my left hand/wrist.
A few customers came over and helped me up, made sure I was okay, I told them I was. I shook it off, laughed a little, thanked them for their help. I made my way to the back room, where as soon as I turned the corner out of sight, I slumped to the floor, holding my knee close to my chest, fighting a scream of pain. A single tear trickled down my cheek.
One of my co-workers, Vee, walked back and saw me, and simply said, "Wow. You're not alright." I laughed through the tear, saying, "I'm sure I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." My knee hurt so, so bad. So, for the next several days, I walked with a slight limp as my knee, bruised and and battered, began to heal itself. Stairs were horrible, but over the last week, I think its going away.
However comma
...I did notice that my left wrist was not feeling as great. In fact, it kinda had a little pain to it, depending on which way I turned it. By mid-week, my wrist and hand just hurt when I worked, and by Friday morning, turning a door knob, pushing down the white mocha pump or picking up a gallon of milk with that hand made it hurt like crazy. Off to see Dr. Vance on Friday afternoon, and he poked and prodded a little, got an X-ray and made sure it wasn't gangrenous, or riddled with AIDS or anything of that sort. Nope, just a sprain on the wrist, one that will...
...one that will...
...one... will.... that.... wi...
...
...so, as I typed those previous words, I fell asleep. Like, zonked out. It was only for a brief few seconds, but it was long enough for my hand on my mouse to slip, the mouse to crash onto the keyboard, and The Lovely Steph Leann to wake up and stare at me. I decided it was time for bed, so between the words "one that will" and right now, I've slept 8 hours, I've gone to church, I've had lunch with Hurricane Rhett, Amarylis by Morning (up from san antone), JustFish and his wife Kelly Kelly at Ruby Tuesdays, I've gone by the cigar shop to buy a gift card for my brother-in-law for Christmas, I've watched The Lovely Steph Leann pass out on the couch again, I've talked to Melanie Z on the phone about tomorrow at work, and I've listened to half of Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now" album.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, my wrist. It'll heal. In about a week or so.
The whole point of that entire story was that now I have a splint on my left wrist. I told Melanie Z a few minutes ago, "Ya know, I don't get sick. I just get hurt." And get old.
"NEED YOU NOW"
Speaking of Lady Antebellum, is there a better country song out right now than "Need You Now"? I mean, this song has everything--being drunk, being desperate, being broken hearted and hurt, and a hot chick singing half the song. I'll be honest with ya, for the first few times I heard it, the opening keys on the piano makes it sound a little like "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe, but there are few songs that are farther apart in subject than "I Can Only Imagine" and "Need You Now".
Was watching some video clip show on CMT, and this song came up, and Darius Rucker put it perfectly... "The song is beautiful... but when you listen to it, it's about nothing more than a booty call. A late, desperate, drunk booty call. But they sing it beautifully."
"MORNING GLORY"
I feel so behind when it comes to movies... I did a count today at church, while a slow song was being sung during the choir concert, and I and/or we have seen about 33 movies at the theater this year, and another three that were 2010 movies I and/or we have seen on DVR, premium cable, NetFlix or OnDemand pay-per-view.
And I'm so, so behind on movie reviews... but here's one for ya.
"Morning Glory" tells the tale of Becky Fuller, played by the getting-better-and-hotter-as-time-goes-on Rachel McAdams... she's no Amy Adams, whom I'm in love with, but she's still great. Anyway, Becky is a ambitious news producer that, due to layoffs, is forced to take a job with a very low key, struggling network, and is hired to take over their terrible morning show. Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton) is the longtime co-anchor, and is aghast when to complete the morning show team, Becky coerces/forces an old curmudgeon of a newsman, Mike Pomeroy, played by Harrison Ford--we'll get to him in a minute.
 |
| Obligatory picture of my Hollywood girlfriend |
Of course, nothing works out perfectly, so we watch Mike Pomeroy and Colleen Peck not get along, Becky have a meltdown over nothing working, and her love interest, played by Patrick Wilson, try to pursue a woman who is giving 110% to her career and nothing to her own life.
This movie works on two levels... first, Rachel McAdams wins in just about anything she is in. To me, you recast "Mean Girls" with someone besides Lindsay Lohan, and it still works. But take out Rachel McAdams' Rachel, and it loses something. She wins in "Wedding Crashers", she shines in "The Notebook" and even makes "Red Eye" bearable, so when Rachel McAdams is in something, it automatically makes me thing that this might be a pretty good movie.
Secondly, I don't know what happened to Harrison Ford, but he looks like he's been chewing on an onion for ten years now. The man IS Indiana Jones and IS Han Solo, two of the most awesome icons in movie history, not to mention he was in four non-Star Wars or Indy related films, in The Dave100, that being "Air Force One" (46th), "Witness" (34th), "The Fugitive" (25th) and "American Graffiti" (15th).
Harrison. Smile once in a while. Seriously.
Anyway, back to "Morning Glory", this role is perfect for him. Mike Pomeroy is bitter, is angry, feels like his lot in life sucks, and even though he was very successful back in the day, he fees like this new spot for him on the morning show is beneath him. Ford trudges through the film with grunts and growls and scowls, and if you didn't know any better, he might have just as much contempt for being in this movie as his character does for being on the show in question."Morning Glory" is fun and simple, it doesn't try to hard, and you genuninely like and root for Becky Fuller, and can even empathize with her when she and Mike do the inevitable sit down, where they have the "don't work so hard or you will end up like me" conversation. The movie is practically out of theaters at this point, so catch it as a rental.
"UNSTOPPABLE"
Another movie we saw recently was "Unstoppable", starring Chris Pine (Star Trek) and Denzel Washington, and its premise is simple... they work on a train line. They go out on what is supposed to be an easy, somewhat boring train transfer, moving a train and its cars from one town to the next in rural, blue collar Pittsburgh.
Just so happens... I loved the heck out of this movie. You know, sometimes you just want to be entertained, you don't want to think too much, you don't want to be taught anything or preached to or leave the theater dwelling on the film's message and so on... with "Unstoppable", none of that happens. Its not a dumb movie, it just doesn't pretend to be anything that its not... its simply an action film with two likable leads on one train, trying to stop another train from going really, really fast.
This is one of those films that I liked watching now, and when it comes on Starz around May or so, it will be fun to leave on in the background while I'm doing other things around the house.
"NO TREE"
If you come to The Cabana, you won't see a Christmas tree in our living room. You won't see stockings on the mantle, you won't find lights hung around the railing out on the porch, or a giant Mickey in a Santa suit sitting in the corner.
The reason why? We didn't put a tree up this year. See, I've always poked fun at those people who had their tree up in November, before Thanksgiving... in my mind, Christmas doesn't start until Thanksgiving is over, regardless of Wal-Mart having their trimmings up in September.
But, I kinda understand why people put it up before Thanksgiving. See, our tree is huge. Its a decent tree, its 7.5 feet, and its big. Its one of those older trees where there are branches to install in the tree, first the bottom row, then the next, then the next, then a few more, until you get 2/3rds the way up the tree, then you stick on the top part. The branches are supposedly color coded, but the white and the yellow look awfully alike, and the yellow has two levels and its just a nightmare.
I've got to drag this thing out, put all the branches on, then we have to deal with gaps. Then we have to deal with lights... though I'm thinking that, starting next year, I'm going to toss every single strand of lights we have here out into the garbage... lights are now about $1 or $2 a box, so I can spend $10 a year to have fresh lights that I don't have to worry about. The Lovely Steph Leann is all about colored lights, so they are even cheaper.
Anyway, after the lights finally go up, we've got the ornaments. I came into this marriage with about a dozen or so ornaments, whileshe came in with about 779 ornaments. And she wants every. single. one of them. on the tree.
When Thanksgiving is over, we just get busy. Really, really busy. We had a weekend away that resulted in us spending a few days in Disney World, meeting up with some very dear friends while we were there. We figured when we got back, we'd get the tree up. When we got back, we were tired, we were lazy, we figured we'd get the tree up in a few days.
A few more days go by, and I finally ask The Lovely Steph Leann, "What if... what if we didn't put a tree up?" She pauses, reflects for a minute, and said, "Well, I hope that this doesn't start a tradition of not putting a tree up..." I told her that we would put it up, just maybe not this year.
Mid-December comes around, and no tree still. The Lovely Steph Leann informs me that we aren't putting up a tree until we clean the floor. My argument was simply, why clean the floor when we are putting a tree down, with a tree skirt over it covering the area. Why not clean it after the tree is put away in January? No dice, says the wife. No floor, no tree. I said I wasn't cleaning that part of the floor, and its a stalemate.
Then, a few days ago, The Lovely Steph Leann says, "Well, I'm in agreement... we don't have to put a tree up this year. Just so long as we don't make this a permanent thing." I shake my head, thinking that oh, we'll get it up at some point soon.
And here we are, the weekend before Christmas, no tree. And there won't be a tree this year at The Cabana. Next year, I'm going to become one of those people that I made fun of... our tree is going up in mid-November, BEFORE Thanksgiving. So when Thanksgiving rolls around, our tree is up, and we don't have to worry about it.
And it will be a new tree. Not the beastly monster that we have now, but something a little easier, maybe not smaller, but easier to put up. Its gotta hold 779 ornaments, after all.
DirecTV Is Just Not That Into You
PROLOGUE
DirecTV and I have been dating for about 2 years. We met in February of 2008, and instantly had an attraction... I had a need for satellite, having been jilted, abused and mistreated by my former flame, Charter, and though I flirted with a few others, DTV and myself have been having the most wonderful time together.
Well, like any relationship, there is bound to be trouble when something majorly new is introduced into the relationship.
So, for anyone who has even slightly seen me on Facebook in the last two weeks, you'll recognize I done went and got myself a new television. Well... that's only slightly true... The Lovely Steph Leann took me to HH Gregg the Saturday before my birthday, led me to the television wall and said, "Choose." It felt a bit like Miyagi taking Danielsahn out to his driveway and waving his hand, saying, "Choose".
Well, this is a big decision to make, and I certainly can't make it myself, because this is just too important... I mean, pixels and megahertz and LED and LCD and LG and Sony and Samsung and plasma and... well, that's alot. I put in a text to Hurricane Rhett, who was immediately excited to come and help us spend a grand on something that we kinda already had, just in a smaller, boxier, non-HDier form.
And spend it we did, though we did save some by negotiating down a little. Ah, Dave Ramsey. Anyway, we got it home, and a few days later I was pumped to finally get it hooked up, install the DirecTV DVR, the Wii and the Sony Blu-Ray.
PART I: LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED THING
After I got it working and installed, I put in a call to DirecTV. They've got a special where you can get Free Hi-Def for life, and though its for new customers, typically I've been able to squeeze some sort of deal out of it. I don't feel bad about it, I mean, they want to keep me as a customer, and they are willing to work with me on prices and so there it is.
When I call, my first question is about the premium channels (Encore, Starz, HBO, Showtime, The Movie Channel, Skinemax), because early in the spring, I had worked out a promotional price for them and knew it was ending. Much to my surprise and happiness, the girl on the other end told me that the promotion didn't end until April of 2011. Seriously, I asked, are you sure, I confirmed. She confirmed. Finally, I asked, "So, if I didn't make any changes whatsoever to my service plan between now and April 2011, then my bill doesn't change?" She said no, it wouldn't.
From there, since I'm happy now, and asked to be transferred to the Hi-Def Upgrade department. Spoke to a very (NFL Sunday Ticket) pleasant lady there who seemed, though I'm sure it was insincere because why wouldn't it be?, pretty happy for me and my new television, and was (NFL Sunday Ticket) excited to get me started on my journey to HDTV!
I knew that it would be impossible for (NFL Sunday Ticket) me to get the "Free HD For Life" promotion (NFL Sunday Ticket), because that's for new subscribers. However, I was able to work out (NFL Sunday Ticket) a package where I got HD free for 24 months, typically the life of a contract, and got a few other (NFL Sunday Ticket) promos and discounts and such, and heck, with the premium channels (NFL Sunday Ticket) not going up in price until April 2011, this sounds like a pretty sweet deal.
And for the millionth time, they offer me NFL Sunday Ticket, and how I should get it to watch every NFL Game, ever, at the cost of three monthly payments of $70 or something. Finally, I convince the woman that yes, this is a good program, and yes, I'd love to have it, but no, I'm not paying that much money for it, because no, I don't watch enough games to make it worth my money. Now, this just begs (NFL Sunday Ticket) the question, when in the world can they be out here to set it up?
I rack my brain thinking of next week's schedule, trying to figure out what would be a good day to come get it all set up. Seriously, all they are doing is taking my standard DVR receiver from my downstairs and moving it upstairs (on The Lovely Steph Leann's suggestion), then installing in its place an HD Reciever. That's it. That's all. Probably take 'em, twenty minutes. Thirty, maybe. Five, maybe, who knows, but its not even close to complicated.
She tells me that there will be someone to call me in the next 48 hours to set up a time for DirecTV to come out and make our upgrade happen.
That night, I go to bed a happy camper. I have my big television, I have Hi-Def coming. I have a happy wife, I have a happy life, and all the world is wonderful (cue birds singing).
PART II: THE BUMP IN THE ROAD
A few days later, I got a call from DirecTV while I stood in front of an espresso machine pouring up a tall, no water, no foam, 5 pump chai. Obviously, I couldn't take it, so I let it go to voicemail, and on a break, I called them back. Talked to another lady about my soon-to-be awesome Hi-Def TV set up and how soon they could come out and get it done (cue happy birds singing) and after sharing in my joy, reminding me of NFL Sunday Ticket, and checking the schedule, she came up with a date.
"Looks like the next available date to have someone come out is... September 18th..."
(you know that record-screeching sound that movies make, interrupting whatever party music is going on and leading to complete silence? Yeah, cue that sound)
"September 18th?" I asked in disbelief. Remember, this is like, August 11th or something.
"Yes, I"m sorry, but we are really busy right now."
"Okay, well, that's unacceptable. September 18th? The main reason we jumped on this TV purchase is to get it ready for college football season..."
"I understand, and I'm sorry, but September 18th is as soon as we can get out there to you, and I would say you should book it, because its filling up fast."
"Okay, so since this is a busy time, shouldn't you guys have more people on staff for this? Really?"
A week or so later, I called back, trying again to find a quicker set-up date. And to no avail.
Smachcut to this past week, August 19th, when I received the latest bill from DirecTV. This is the bill that I was told would not go up in the slightest because not only did we not have our HD set up yet, but apparently our promo doesn't run out until April 2011... right? Right? And I open the bill... our bill went from $94 to $116. It went up $18. And I shook my head... yes, our premium package promo ended in July, and yes we now had to pay the difference.
This is a big deal, because yes, The Lovely Steph Leann and I go out to eat alot, and yes, we frequent the movies, and yes, we buy stuff that we don't need and stuff we do need and to the untrained eye, we seem like we are doing well, and ya know, we are... but we are, in fact, on a budget. That $18 has to come from somewhere, out of another category in the budget. And The Lovely Steph Leann, the usual keeper of the budget, doesn't want to be the one to figure it out.
So, I put in a call to DirecTV. I told the guy that our bill went up after I was told it wasn't, and quite simply, I got a "Sorry." That's it. Not a "I'm sorry, what if we..." or a "I'm sorry, however...", just a "Sorry." I sighed, and asked to be transferred to whatever department takes care of setting up service upgrades. And right before he transferred me, he said, "I would like to tell you about NFL Sun..." I cut him off. "Dude. Don't. Just transfer me."
I got a chick with an accent, so I explained to her in short form that I now have an HDTV, I wanted HD service, and I had been told the earliest available date was September 18th. I wanted to know if anything closer was open. She put me on hold, and I waited. Finally, after several minutes, she came back and said, "I'm sorry, there's nothing open until September 18th. We do have you down for the day from noon to five."
"Well, if that's the only date available, I had to miss it because you guys might not have another day open until, what, President's Day?"
(chuckling) "Yes sir, we are pretty busy."
(not chuckling) "Okay, so what do we do here? First, I'm not upset at you (whatever your name is), you are just answering my questions, so please don't think I'm angry at you. I'm just a little frustrated by the process of how we got here. You are not able to help me, you are inconveniencing the heck out of me, my bill went up after I was told it wouldn't, and I'm a little disgruntled by this whole thing." I promise you my tone is very pleasant, I've been nice enough to recognize that she's a go-between, not the decision maker
"Well, what do you want me to do?" she asks. I can appreciate the fact that she's not able to make decisions, I don't appreciate her tone of "whatever, can't help ya, so why are you bothering me?"
I told her that I understood she couldn't help me, and I said goodbye quickly and let it go.
PART III: OTHER FISH IN THE SEA
So, I sat stewing for a few minutes. This was just anger inducing... I've been a loyal customer for years, and ya know, if we have to pay full price for premiums, that's fine, perhaps I misunderstood. But September 18th? And I think even if they had said, "Sir, we know this is a long time to wait for an upgrade, so here's what we are going to do for you..." but nothing. Maybe its asking too much?
On a whim, I typed up w w w dot dish network dot com. It popped up and I started surfing around the site and found a deal on what I like to call "The EVERY FLIPPIN' THING They Have" Package. Over 250 channels, including all the premiums, and free HD For Life and it was all less, much less, than what we are paying now.
I dialed up 1-800-823-4929, pressed "1" and said "new service" at the prompts and got Steve, who said, "Hi! I'm Steve! How can I help you?" I smiled and said, "Well, Steve, I'm a disgruntled DirecTV customer, and am willing to jump ship. Now is your chance to woo me. Go."
I won't bore you with too many details, like I've already done, but bottom line is, I've got a good deal. No, I got a great deal. And even when all the promos are done, even when all the "free" stuff is no longer free, we'll still have Free HD For Life, and it will still be cheaper than what we are paying DirecTV right now, without their HD fees in place.
"Tell what else I'll do," Steve says, "For signing up with Auto Billpay, you'll be getting a coupon for two free pay-per-view movies. And I'm going to also send you another coupon that will give you three more free coupons. And we have a service package that costs $6 per month, and I'm going to give that to you for six months free, and you can cancel after that if you'd like." This might all be stuff he gives to anyone and everyone, but I'll take it.
He scoffed when I told him that DirecTV wasn't able to upgrade my home until September 18th. He said, "What about Wednesday?" I said, "Deal."
And not one single time did Steve try to upgrade me to any sort of NFL, College Football, NBA, UFC, NHL or The Oprah Network package.
PART IV: IT'S NOT YOU, ITS ME
I immediately call DirecTV back, and used the words "Cancel service". Apparently, those are panic words, because I heard "One moment, while we direct your call to the next available representative", and the representative that was next available came very, very quickly.
She asked me why I was canceling, I told her first that I was bothered by the fact I was told two different things about my bill, and secondly by the fact that a major business such as DirecTV couldn't anticipate such a busy time as the beginning of a major television viewing time such as the Fall, and why it would take (at the time of my first call) six weeks to get someone out to my home.
She apologized (again), and put me on hold. She came back after about five minutes, then told me that there wasn't anything open between now and September 18th. I said, "Okay, so you know I have something else in place with a rival company. You are so booked up right now that you cannot have someone at my house in, a week? Ten days? You are still not open until September 18th? And you are going to let me walk away?"
"I'm sorry sir, that's all we have."
"I'm not sorry. I'm taken care of. Thanks so much."
Thus, DirecTV just broke up with me.
PART V: RECONSIDERATION
In the two days that followed, DirecTV called me SEVEN times. Five times I was actually working, so I was unable to answer the phone call, but three times I managed to talk to them, once after I called them back. That didn't go well, as she told me that I was scheduled for cancellation next week, and she wanted to know why. I told her, she put me on hold, and then came back saying, "I'm sorry... September 18th is the soonest we have available."
You know what, I get it. They are busy. And truly, September 18th might actually be the earliest they are able to get out to my house. But the inconvenience itself is ridiculous. Might I remind you that September 18th is a stinkin' Saturday. Troy and UAB play that day, and its a game that I'm going to try and attend. The Lovely Steph Leann will be out of town. The lady tells me that as long as I have an adult there, I don't have to be there... and then, she says, "Because you obviously like football, you might be interested in the NFL Sunday Ticket package."
I snapped. Seriously. I said, calmly, "Okay, Aquanetta (or whatever her name was), listen... I'm not upset at you. You are just doing your job at trying to up-sell me. But NO! I DO NOT want NFL Sunday Ticket! Its too expensive, I won't watch enough football to make it worth it, and I'm cancelling my service. Thank you."
The second phone call I fielded was from a guy who seemed like he might have had some sort of decision making power. He called me and again asked me if I would answer a few questions about my service. I said, "Absolutely". At this point, I'm still willing to listen to DirecTV, and I can be swayed back to their side. I'm ready be taken back.
I ask, "Do you want the highly detailed version of why I'm cancelling, or do you want the vague overview?" He pauses, and says, "Maybe the overview?"
I tell him, "Two reasons. First, I called in July to find out when our premium promotions end, and the girl tells me April 2011. I ask her if she's sure, and she says yes. Well, lo and behold, my bill comes in and its about $20 more than I was expecting. Why? Because our premium promotions ran out in July, not April 2011. But you know what? I understand. Perhaps I misunderstood her. Perhaps I asked the question the wrong way. I swear I was right, but I admit, I could have misinterpreted it. And you know what, our bill went up because those are the prices set forth by your company, and its up to me and my wife to choose to pay them, or to drop them. Whether we think its too high or not, that's your prices, and its on us to make that decision. So, while that's frustrating, that's not my main concern.
My problem is this. Your company thrives on people paying for your services, and when you offer better services, people want to upgrade, much like us. I finally get a Hi-Def television, I'm going to be able to watch my Gators beat Alabama in HD and its going to be awesome. And so when I call you guys up, all excited about my upgrade, and your opportunity to get more money out of me, you tell me you can't be there until 6 weeks. Six weeks is highly unacceptable. When I worked in retail, we knew that Christmastime was the busiest time of the year, and we compensated for that by hiring not only permanent people, but also seasonal people to get us through. Thusly (its always a good argument when I can use the word 'thusly'), its highly irresponsible for you, knowing that your busiest time of the year is the fall due to football, to not have the proper people in place to handle such a rush of business.
I called a rival company, and they'll be here in four days. They offered to do it this weekend, but I wanted to call you back and find out how you could help me first. And your busy, I get it, but there are no concessions being made to me as a loyal customer for the inconvenience, and frankly, it's a little bothersome that each time I talk to your company, all I get is a 'Sorry. Can't help you'."
Silence for a minute. Then he pipes up, "Well, I can tell you that I apologize for all of this. Looking at your records, you have definitely been a loyal customer for almost three years, you've never missed a payment, never been late, and we'd hate to lose you to a competitor."
"Well Bob (or whatever his name is), let me stop you by saying this. I've already got my deal with Dish Network in place. They are coming out Monday (I moved my set up from Wednesday to Monday) to install everything, and I'm doing a 2 year contract. I've already got a cancellation in the books with DirecTV. So if you want to keep me, you are going to have to make it worth my while."
"Certainly, certainly," he replied. "If we could get someone out there faster, maybe in the next week or so, and could work out some promotions for you and save you some money, would you be willing to stay with us?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I've only agreed verbally with them, and haven't signed anything. I made sure to find out if everything was reversible until instillation, and it is. Make me an offer, and I'll definitely consider it."
"Alright, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to punch some numbers here, and figure some stuff out on your account. I'm going to get you taken care of in the next 7 to 10 days, and get your bill lowered. What I'll do is call you back later on today, if that's okay, and we'll see if we can keep you with us."
"Sounds like a plan. Thanks." I hung up, expecting a call later on in the evening. And a phone call came.
PART VI: WHEN IT'S OVER
The phone rang about four hours after I talked to the previous representative, and until this very phone call, I was hopeful for a reconciliation. I was thinking that things might still work out. I was wrong.
The girl was chipper when she greeted me as soon as I answered the phone. "d$, I was calling to confirm your appointment for your HD upgrade here with DirecTV!"
(cue birds chirping, some party music and the sounds of a good time)
"Wonderful!" I replied. "What do you have?"
"Well sir, to be honest, we won't be able to confirm anything until the end of September."
(cue that party music stopping screeching sound from earlier)
"Well Sheila (or whatever her name is), that won't be necessary. I no longer need an appointment for an upgrade, because I've cancelled my account."
(silence for a few seconds) "I'm sorry, sir? Your are planning on cancelling your account?"
"Yep. I've already talked to all of you guys numerous times, and you can't get to me before the end of September. I've already got an appointment with Dish Network, who will be here on Monday to do the job you wouldn't get done."
"So... (another silence)... you... you need the cancellation department?"
"Nope. Already cancelled. Its set up for next week. Thanks, though" And hung up.
EPILOGUE
They called me one more time, while I was at work, and I replied with a courtesy call. I only had a few minutes, so I just said, "You called, so I'm returning the call."
"We noticed that you were cancelling your account, and we wanted to know why..."
"Seriously? I really don't have time to go into it again. Bottom line, we found a better deal for more services, and they'll be here to take care of our upgrades on Monday, and you had to wait until September 18th. You didn't get it done, they will."
(silence). "Well... what if we could contact a local serviceman in your area and perhaps get someone out there Monday or Tuesday for you, and credit your account $100? Would that be sufficient enough for you?"
"Ya know, I gotta run. Call me back after 4pm. Can you do that?"
IN CONCLUSION
The other night, I flipped through DirecTV's channels, pulled up the "Everything Flippin' Thing We Have" package lineup on Dish Network.com and compared. DirecTV has 22 or 23 channels devoted to nothing but sales and informercials. They also have the Gospel Music Channel, which means that The Lovely Steph Leann will miss reruns of "Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman". Other than that, there was nothing that stood out that we will miss. Conversely, there isn't much on Dish Network that we will gain that I'm all excited about.
I then compared the DirecTV channels in HD to the Dish Channels in HD. I will say DirecTV has ESPNews in HD, as well as ESPNU, The Disney Channel and ABC Family, and Dish doesn't. But they claim that they have 166 channels in HD to Dish's 122, but I counted up, and 20 out of the 40 are Fox Sports and Cox Sports regional channels. Dish also has G4, Turner Classic Movies, History International, E! and several HBO Channels in HD that DirecTV doesn't.
So, the deal is just about done. Save an 11th hour save from DirecTV, we are making the leap to Dish, and really, I'm cool with it.
Let me be clear... I hate Charter. I hate hate hate Charter. The service itself was decent, but the internet was very unreliable, and the customer service was the worst I ever experienced.
DirecTV is not Charter. I enjoyed DirecTV. I think they give a quality product, and overall, their customer service has been satisfactory, and in some cases, great. When you get them at a certain time, their prices are reasonable, and they've even given us some promotional deals when we didn't deserve them. I have no bitterness, resentment or ill will to DirecTV and would recommend them to any new customer.
However, their handling of this entire "September 18th" issue has been... well, stupid. Perhaps I ask too much to be "taken care of" when what they are trying to sell me, and I am trying to buy, isn't readily available, but as someone who has done customer service type jobs for a long, long time, I know that you do what you can to take care of your customers. And they didn't take care of me, even when I came back to them and told them that I was ready to walk away. They instead said, "Walk away."
So I did.
And man is The Lovely Steph Leann excited about getting The Hallmark Movie Channel. Just sayin'.
DirecTV and I have been dating for about 2 years. We met in February of 2008, and instantly had an attraction... I had a need for satellite, having been jilted, abused and mistreated by my former flame, Charter, and though I flirted with a few others, DTV and myself have been having the most wonderful time together.
Well, like any relationship, there is bound to be trouble when something majorly new is introduced into the relationship.
 |
| We were watching "Rising Sun" with Wesley Snipes and Sean Connery, but for a TV pic, I had to find something better. I did. |
Well, this is a big decision to make, and I certainly can't make it myself, because this is just too important... I mean, pixels and megahertz and LED and LCD and LG and Sony and Samsung and plasma and... well, that's alot. I put in a text to Hurricane Rhett, who was immediately excited to come and help us spend a grand on something that we kinda already had, just in a smaller, boxier, non-HDier form.
And spend it we did, though we did save some by negotiating down a little. Ah, Dave Ramsey. Anyway, we got it home, and a few days later I was pumped to finally get it hooked up, install the DirecTV DVR, the Wii and the Sony Blu-Ray.
PART I: LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED THING
After I got it working and installed, I put in a call to DirecTV. They've got a special where you can get Free Hi-Def for life, and though its for new customers, typically I've been able to squeeze some sort of deal out of it. I don't feel bad about it, I mean, they want to keep me as a customer, and they are willing to work with me on prices and so there it is.
When I call, my first question is about the premium channels (Encore, Starz, HBO, Showtime, The Movie Channel, Skinemax), because early in the spring, I had worked out a promotional price for them and knew it was ending. Much to my surprise and happiness, the girl on the other end told me that the promotion didn't end until April of 2011. Seriously, I asked, are you sure, I confirmed. She confirmed. Finally, I asked, "So, if I didn't make any changes whatsoever to my service plan between now and April 2011, then my bill doesn't change?" She said no, it wouldn't.
I knew that it would be impossible for (NFL Sunday Ticket) me to get the "Free HD For Life" promotion (NFL Sunday Ticket), because that's for new subscribers. However, I was able to work out (NFL Sunday Ticket) a package where I got HD free for 24 months, typically the life of a contract, and got a few other (NFL Sunday Ticket) promos and discounts and such, and heck, with the premium channels (NFL Sunday Ticket) not going up in price until April 2011, this sounds like a pretty sweet deal.
And for the millionth time, they offer me NFL Sunday Ticket, and how I should get it to watch every NFL Game, ever, at the cost of three monthly payments of $70 or something. Finally, I convince the woman that yes, this is a good program, and yes, I'd love to have it, but no, I'm not paying that much money for it, because no, I don't watch enough games to make it worth my money. Now, this just begs (NFL Sunday Ticket) the question, when in the world can they be out here to set it up?
I rack my brain thinking of next week's schedule, trying to figure out what would be a good day to come get it all set up. Seriously, all they are doing is taking my standard DVR receiver from my downstairs and moving it upstairs (on The Lovely Steph Leann's suggestion), then installing in its place an HD Reciever. That's it. That's all. Probably take 'em, twenty minutes. Thirty, maybe. Five, maybe, who knows, but its not even close to complicated.
She tells me that there will be someone to call me in the next 48 hours to set up a time for DirecTV to come out and make our upgrade happen.
That night, I go to bed a happy camper. I have my big television, I have Hi-Def coming. I have a happy wife, I have a happy life, and all the world is wonderful (cue birds singing).
PART II: THE BUMP IN THE ROAD
A few days later, I got a call from DirecTV while I stood in front of an espresso machine pouring up a tall, no water, no foam, 5 pump chai. Obviously, I couldn't take it, so I let it go to voicemail, and on a break, I called them back. Talked to another lady about my soon-to-be awesome Hi-Def TV set up and how soon they could come out and get it done (cue happy birds singing) and after sharing in my joy, reminding me of NFL Sunday Ticket, and checking the schedule, she came up with a date.
"Looks like the next available date to have someone come out is... September 18th..."
(you know that record-screeching sound that movies make, interrupting whatever party music is going on and leading to complete silence? Yeah, cue that sound)
"Yes, I"m sorry, but we are really busy right now."
"Okay, well, that's unacceptable. September 18th? The main reason we jumped on this TV purchase is to get it ready for college football season..."
"I understand, and I'm sorry, but September 18th is as soon as we can get out there to you, and I would say you should book it, because its filling up fast."
"Okay, so since this is a busy time, shouldn't you guys have more people on staff for this? Really?"
A week or so later, I called back, trying again to find a quicker set-up date. And to no avail.
Smachcut to this past week, August 19th, when I received the latest bill from DirecTV. This is the bill that I was told would not go up in the slightest because not only did we not have our HD set up yet, but apparently our promo doesn't run out until April 2011... right? Right? And I open the bill... our bill went from $94 to $116. It went up $18. And I shook my head... yes, our premium package promo ended in July, and yes we now had to pay the difference.
This is a big deal, because yes, The Lovely Steph Leann and I go out to eat alot, and yes, we frequent the movies, and yes, we buy stuff that we don't need and stuff we do need and to the untrained eye, we seem like we are doing well, and ya know, we are... but we are, in fact, on a budget. That $18 has to come from somewhere, out of another category in the budget. And The Lovely Steph Leann, the usual keeper of the budget, doesn't want to be the one to figure it out.
So, I put in a call to DirecTV. I told the guy that our bill went up after I was told it wasn't, and quite simply, I got a "Sorry." That's it. Not a "I'm sorry, what if we..." or a "I'm sorry, however...", just a "Sorry." I sighed, and asked to be transferred to whatever department takes care of setting up service upgrades. And right before he transferred me, he said, "I would like to tell you about NFL Sun..." I cut him off. "Dude. Don't. Just transfer me."
I got a chick with an accent, so I explained to her in short form that I now have an HDTV, I wanted HD service, and I had been told the earliest available date was September 18th. I wanted to know if anything closer was open. She put me on hold, and I waited. Finally, after several minutes, she came back and said, "I'm sorry, there's nothing open until September 18th. We do have you down for the day from noon to five."
"Well, if that's the only date available, I had to miss it because you guys might not have another day open until, what, President's Day?"
(chuckling) "Yes sir, we are pretty busy."
(not chuckling) "Okay, so what do we do here? First, I'm not upset at you (whatever your name is), you are just answering my questions, so please don't think I'm angry at you. I'm just a little frustrated by the process of how we got here. You are not able to help me, you are inconveniencing the heck out of me, my bill went up after I was told it wouldn't, and I'm a little disgruntled by this whole thing." I promise you my tone is very pleasant, I've been nice enough to recognize that she's a go-between, not the decision maker
"Well, what do you want me to do?" she asks. I can appreciate the fact that she's not able to make decisions, I don't appreciate her tone of "whatever, can't help ya, so why are you bothering me?"
I told her that I understood she couldn't help me, and I said goodbye quickly and let it go.
PART III: OTHER FISH IN THE SEA
So, I sat stewing for a few minutes. This was just anger inducing... I've been a loyal customer for years, and ya know, if we have to pay full price for premiums, that's fine, perhaps I misunderstood. But September 18th? And I think even if they had said, "Sir, we know this is a long time to wait for an upgrade, so here's what we are going to do for you..." but nothing. Maybe its asking too much?
I dialed up 1-800-823-4929, pressed "1" and said "new service" at the prompts and got Steve, who said, "Hi! I'm Steve! How can I help you?" I smiled and said, "Well, Steve, I'm a disgruntled DirecTV customer, and am willing to jump ship. Now is your chance to woo me. Go."
I won't bore you with too many details, like I've already done, but bottom line is, I've got a good deal. No, I got a great deal. And even when all the promos are done, even when all the "free" stuff is no longer free, we'll still have Free HD For Life, and it will still be cheaper than what we are paying DirecTV right now, without their HD fees in place.
"Tell what else I'll do," Steve says, "For signing up with Auto Billpay, you'll be getting a coupon for two free pay-per-view movies. And I'm going to also send you another coupon that will give you three more free coupons. And we have a service package that costs $6 per month, and I'm going to give that to you for six months free, and you can cancel after that if you'd like." This might all be stuff he gives to anyone and everyone, but I'll take it.
He scoffed when I told him that DirecTV wasn't able to upgrade my home until September 18th. He said, "What about Wednesday?" I said, "Deal."
And not one single time did Steve try to upgrade me to any sort of NFL, College Football, NBA, UFC, NHL or The Oprah Network package.
PART IV: IT'S NOT YOU, ITS ME
I immediately call DirecTV back, and used the words "Cancel service". Apparently, those are panic words, because I heard "One moment, while we direct your call to the next available representative", and the representative that was next available came very, very quickly.
She asked me why I was canceling, I told her first that I was bothered by the fact I was told two different things about my bill, and secondly by the fact that a major business such as DirecTV couldn't anticipate such a busy time as the beginning of a major television viewing time such as the Fall, and why it would take (at the time of my first call) six weeks to get someone out to my home.
She apologized (again), and put me on hold. She came back after about five minutes, then told me that there wasn't anything open between now and September 18th. I said, "Okay, so you know I have something else in place with a rival company. You are so booked up right now that you cannot have someone at my house in, a week? Ten days? You are still not open until September 18th? And you are going to let me walk away?"
"I'm sorry sir, that's all we have."
"I'm not sorry. I'm taken care of. Thanks so much."
Thus, DirecTV just broke up with me.
PART V: RECONSIDERATION
In the two days that followed, DirecTV called me SEVEN times. Five times I was actually working, so I was unable to answer the phone call, but three times I managed to talk to them, once after I called them back. That didn't go well, as she told me that I was scheduled for cancellation next week, and she wanted to know why. I told her, she put me on hold, and then came back saying, "I'm sorry... September 18th is the soonest we have available."
You know what, I get it. They are busy. And truly, September 18th might actually be the earliest they are able to get out to my house. But the inconvenience itself is ridiculous. Might I remind you that September 18th is a stinkin' Saturday. Troy and UAB play that day, and its a game that I'm going to try and attend. The Lovely Steph Leann will be out of town. The lady tells me that as long as I have an adult there, I don't have to be there... and then, she says, "Because you obviously like football, you might be interested in the NFL Sunday Ticket package."
I snapped. Seriously. I said, calmly, "Okay, Aquanetta (or whatever her name was), listen... I'm not upset at you. You are just doing your job at trying to up-sell me. But NO! I DO NOT want NFL Sunday Ticket! Its too expensive, I won't watch enough football to make it worth it, and I'm cancelling my service. Thank you."
The second phone call I fielded was from a guy who seemed like he might have had some sort of decision making power. He called me and again asked me if I would answer a few questions about my service. I said, "Absolutely". At this point, I'm still willing to listen to DirecTV, and I can be swayed back to their side. I'm ready be taken back.
I ask, "Do you want the highly detailed version of why I'm cancelling, or do you want the vague overview?" He pauses, and says, "Maybe the overview?"
I tell him, "Two reasons. First, I called in July to find out when our premium promotions end, and the girl tells me April 2011. I ask her if she's sure, and she says yes. Well, lo and behold, my bill comes in and its about $20 more than I was expecting. Why? Because our premium promotions ran out in July, not April 2011. But you know what? I understand. Perhaps I misunderstood her. Perhaps I asked the question the wrong way. I swear I was right, but I admit, I could have misinterpreted it. And you know what, our bill went up because those are the prices set forth by your company, and its up to me and my wife to choose to pay them, or to drop them. Whether we think its too high or not, that's your prices, and its on us to make that decision. So, while that's frustrating, that's not my main concern.
My problem is this. Your company thrives on people paying for your services, and when you offer better services, people want to upgrade, much like us. I finally get a Hi-Def television, I'm going to be able to watch my Gators beat Alabama in HD and its going to be awesome. And so when I call you guys up, all excited about my upgrade, and your opportunity to get more money out of me, you tell me you can't be there until 6 weeks. Six weeks is highly unacceptable. When I worked in retail, we knew that Christmastime was the busiest time of the year, and we compensated for that by hiring not only permanent people, but also seasonal people to get us through. Thusly (its always a good argument when I can use the word 'thusly'), its highly irresponsible for you, knowing that your busiest time of the year is the fall due to football, to not have the proper people in place to handle such a rush of business.
I called a rival company, and they'll be here in four days. They offered to do it this weekend, but I wanted to call you back and find out how you could help me first. And your busy, I get it, but there are no concessions being made to me as a loyal customer for the inconvenience, and frankly, it's a little bothersome that each time I talk to your company, all I get is a 'Sorry. Can't help you'."
Silence for a minute. Then he pipes up, "Well, I can tell you that I apologize for all of this. Looking at your records, you have definitely been a loyal customer for almost three years, you've never missed a payment, never been late, and we'd hate to lose you to a competitor."
"Well Bob (or whatever his name is), let me stop you by saying this. I've already got my deal with Dish Network in place. They are coming out Monday (I moved my set up from Wednesday to Monday) to install everything, and I'm doing a 2 year contract. I've already got a cancellation in the books with DirecTV. So if you want to keep me, you are going to have to make it worth my while."
"Certainly, certainly," he replied. "If we could get someone out there faster, maybe in the next week or so, and could work out some promotions for you and save you some money, would you be willing to stay with us?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I've only agreed verbally with them, and haven't signed anything. I made sure to find out if everything was reversible until instillation, and it is. Make me an offer, and I'll definitely consider it."
"Alright, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to punch some numbers here, and figure some stuff out on your account. I'm going to get you taken care of in the next 7 to 10 days, and get your bill lowered. What I'll do is call you back later on today, if that's okay, and we'll see if we can keep you with us."
"Sounds like a plan. Thanks." I hung up, expecting a call later on in the evening. And a phone call came.
PART VI: WHEN IT'S OVER
The phone rang about four hours after I talked to the previous representative, and until this very phone call, I was hopeful for a reconciliation. I was thinking that things might still work out. I was wrong.
The girl was chipper when she greeted me as soon as I answered the phone. "d$, I was calling to confirm your appointment for your HD upgrade here with DirecTV!"
(cue birds chirping, some party music and the sounds of a good time)
"Wonderful!" I replied. "What do you have?"
"Well sir, to be honest, we won't be able to confirm anything until the end of September."
(cue that party music stopping screeching sound from earlier)
"Well Sheila (or whatever her name is), that won't be necessary. I no longer need an appointment for an upgrade, because I've cancelled my account."
(silence for a few seconds) "I'm sorry, sir? Your are planning on cancelling your account?"
"Yep. I've already talked to all of you guys numerous times, and you can't get to me before the end of September. I've already got an appointment with Dish Network, who will be here on Monday to do the job you wouldn't get done."
"So... (another silence)... you... you need the cancellation department?"
"Nope. Already cancelled. Its set up for next week. Thanks, though" And hung up.
EPILOGUE
They called me one more time, while I was at work, and I replied with a courtesy call. I only had a few minutes, so I just said, "You called, so I'm returning the call."
"We noticed that you were cancelling your account, and we wanted to know why..."
"Seriously? I really don't have time to go into it again. Bottom line, we found a better deal for more services, and they'll be here to take care of our upgrades on Monday, and you had to wait until September 18th. You didn't get it done, they will."
(silence). "Well... what if we could contact a local serviceman in your area and perhaps get someone out there Monday or Tuesday for you, and credit your account $100? Would that be sufficient enough for you?"
"Ya know, I gotta run. Call me back after 4pm. Can you do that?"
IN CONCLUSION
The other night, I flipped through DirecTV's channels, pulled up the "Everything Flippin' Thing We Have" package lineup on Dish Network.com and compared. DirecTV has 22 or 23 channels devoted to nothing but sales and informercials. They also have the Gospel Music Channel, which means that The Lovely Steph Leann will miss reruns of "Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman". Other than that, there was nothing that stood out that we will miss. Conversely, there isn't much on Dish Network that we will gain that I'm all excited about.
I then compared the DirecTV channels in HD to the Dish Channels in HD. I will say DirecTV has ESPNews in HD, as well as ESPNU, The Disney Channel and ABC Family, and Dish doesn't. But they claim that they have 166 channels in HD to Dish's 122, but I counted up, and 20 out of the 40 are Fox Sports and Cox Sports regional channels. Dish also has G4, Turner Classic Movies, History International, E! and several HBO Channels in HD that DirecTV doesn't.
So, the deal is just about done. Save an 11th hour save from DirecTV, we are making the leap to Dish, and really, I'm cool with it.
Let me be clear... I hate Charter. I hate hate hate Charter. The service itself was decent, but the internet was very unreliable, and the customer service was the worst I ever experienced.
DirecTV is not Charter. I enjoyed DirecTV. I think they give a quality product, and overall, their customer service has been satisfactory, and in some cases, great. When you get them at a certain time, their prices are reasonable, and they've even given us some promotional deals when we didn't deserve them. I have no bitterness, resentment or ill will to DirecTV and would recommend them to any new customer.
However, their handling of this entire "September 18th" issue has been... well, stupid. Perhaps I ask too much to be "taken care of" when what they are trying to sell me, and I am trying to buy, isn't readily available, but as someone who has done customer service type jobs for a long, long time, I know that you do what you can to take care of your customers. And they didn't take care of me, even when I came back to them and told them that I was ready to walk away. They instead said, "Walk away."
So I did.
And man is The Lovely Steph Leann excited about getting The Hallmark Movie Channel. Just sayin'.
Don't "Turn Around"
Tonight was going to be a few more movie reviews--we just saw the movie "Just Wright", starring Queen Latifah and Common (!), upon the request of The Lovely Steph Leann, so I'll make sure we discuss this at length....
However, in the car tonight, something happened that I want to discuss, and I want to make sure that we understand something, you and me. Tonight, The Lovely Steph Leann and I were on the way back from the movie show (we'll get to that), and I flipped a few channels on the radio until I came to 96.5, which is soft rock, and more importantly, in the evening, its the home of Delilah (deee-liii-laaaah... love someone to-niiiight...).
And the song that was playing immediately hooked The Lovely Steph Leann and I, as we both jumped right in... "Turn around, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart... turn around, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart... and I need you now tonight and I need you more than ever and if you only hold me tight We'll be holding on forever and we'll only be making it right 'cause we'll never be wrong, together we can take it to the end of the line, your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (all of the time)... I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark, we're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks... I really need you tonight, forever's gonna start tonight, forever's gonna start tonight
"Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart... there's nothing I can do... a total eclipse of the heart... once upon a time there was light in my life, but now there's only love in the dark... nothing I can say... a total eclipse of the heart..."
I wrote out half that song, partly because I like to sing it as I'm typing, partly because I know you like to sing it and are doing it now, and partly because I wanted there to be no mistake about what song this is. This song is called "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and its by a chick named Bonnie Tyler, from her 1983 album "Faster Than the Speed of Night".
The background vocals, the part that goes "turn around, bright eyes" is by a singer named Rory Dodd, who's claim to fame is this song, dozens of other songs doing background vocals, and the lead voice in an old Hungry Hungry Hippo commercial. You can't make this stuff up.
The original song is a 7 minute opus of music, a monumental song that must who's choruse must be sung loudly until you get to "once upon a time there was light in my life...", upon which your voice must drop to an almost whisper. If you hear this song on the radio, particularly on 96.5, you'd probably hear the criminally shortened 4 minute version...
...when I'm president in 2028, I'm going to expound an idea I've already discussed--that is to introduce legistlation that will criminalize and heavily fine any radio station that chooses to shorten "American Pie", "Lyin' Eyes" or even "Total Eclipse of the Heart"... Magic 96.5, I'm talking to you...
...anyway, this brings me to my point.
This song gained more popularity when a chick named Nicki French did a cover of it... The Lovely Steph Leann admitted, "I actually heard the remake before I heard the original." To which I replied, "Oh, the Nicki French version that came out a few years ago?" A few years ago was actually 1994, but recently, this song came to light when GLEE did a version of it as well.
And on Facebook, I saw a dozen people say something to the effect of "Oh, I loved it when they did 'Turn Around'!" and "Who sings that 'Turn Around' song?" and "I love that 'Turn Around Bright Eyes' song!!". And I just cringed.
This song is not called, nor has it ever been called "Turn Around". Or, "Turn Around Bright Eyes". Yes, that is an oft-used phrase in the song, but that's not the title. The title of the song is "Total Eclipse of the Heart". The original is called "Total Eclipse of the Heart", and subsequent remakes are called likewise.
After this song was over, I said to The Lovely Steph Leann, "It kills me that people get this song wrong. This song is too great, too amazing to be called 'Turn Around' by kids who don't know any better." The Lovely Steph Leann just nodded, in her own way that says, "You're really goofy for worrying about this, but I'll agree..."
I continued, "If we don't teach Campbell Isaiah and Lorelei Addison anything else, my kids will know to their core that this song is called 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' by Bonnie freakin' Tyler from Nineteen Eighty freakin' three. And I will teach them to mock incessantly anyone who calls it 'Turn Around'." The Lovely Steph Leann looks at me, smiles and nods again.
Any song that you and your beloved can immediately dive into together and sing together, no matter how off key (I speak of myself, not her) is a song to be embraced. Because after "Total Eclipse of the Heart", up came Lionel Richie's "You Are", which we sang all the way into the garage of The Cabana.
By the way, one of my favorite posts is when The Lovely Steph Leann said the line, "Lionel Richie is universal." If you never read it, go check it out... its from 2007 and some of the references are dated (like news of a new Harry Potter park being built at Universal Studios in Orlando)... but nonetheless, the part with Lionel Richie is, in fact, a hoot.
However, in the car tonight, something happened that I want to discuss, and I want to make sure that we understand something, you and me. Tonight, The Lovely Steph Leann and I were on the way back from the movie show (we'll get to that), and I flipped a few channels on the radio until I came to 96.5, which is soft rock, and more importantly, in the evening, its the home of Delilah (deee-liii-laaaah... love someone to-niiiight...).
And the song that was playing immediately hooked The Lovely Steph Leann and I, as we both jumped right in... "Turn around, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart... turn around, bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart... and I need you now tonight and I need you more than ever and if you only hold me tight We'll be holding on forever and we'll only be making it right 'cause we'll never be wrong, together we can take it to the end of the line, your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (all of the time)... I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark, we're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks... I really need you tonight, forever's gonna start tonight, forever's gonna start tonight
"Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart... there's nothing I can do... a total eclipse of the heart... once upon a time there was light in my life, but now there's only love in the dark... nothing I can say... a total eclipse of the heart..."
The background vocals, the part that goes "turn around, bright eyes" is by a singer named Rory Dodd, who's claim to fame is this song, dozens of other songs doing background vocals, and the lead voice in an old Hungry Hungry Hippo commercial. You can't make this stuff up.
The original song is a 7 minute opus of music, a monumental song that must who's choruse must be sung loudly until you get to "once upon a time there was light in my life...", upon which your voice must drop to an almost whisper. If you hear this song on the radio, particularly on 96.5, you'd probably hear the criminally shortened 4 minute version...
...when I'm president in 2028, I'm going to expound an idea I've already discussed--that is to introduce legistlation that will criminalize and heavily fine any radio station that chooses to shorten "American Pie", "Lyin' Eyes" or even "Total Eclipse of the Heart"... Magic 96.5, I'm talking to you...
...anyway, this brings me to my point.
This song gained more popularity when a chick named Nicki French did a cover of it... The Lovely Steph Leann admitted, "I actually heard the remake before I heard the original." To which I replied, "Oh, the Nicki French version that came out a few years ago?" A few years ago was actually 1994, but recently, this song came to light when GLEE did a version of it as well.
And on Facebook, I saw a dozen people say something to the effect of "Oh, I loved it when they did 'Turn Around'!" and "Who sings that 'Turn Around' song?" and "I love that 'Turn Around Bright Eyes' song!!". And I just cringed.
This song is not called, nor has it ever been called "Turn Around". Or, "Turn Around Bright Eyes". Yes, that is an oft-used phrase in the song, but that's not the title. The title of the song is "Total Eclipse of the Heart". The original is called "Total Eclipse of the Heart", and subsequent remakes are called likewise.
After this song was over, I said to The Lovely Steph Leann, "It kills me that people get this song wrong. This song is too great, too amazing to be called 'Turn Around' by kids who don't know any better." The Lovely Steph Leann just nodded, in her own way that says, "You're really goofy for worrying about this, but I'll agree..."
I continued, "If we don't teach Campbell Isaiah and Lorelei Addison anything else, my kids will know to their core that this song is called 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' by Bonnie freakin' Tyler from Nineteen Eighty freakin' three. And I will teach them to mock incessantly anyone who calls it 'Turn Around'." The Lovely Steph Leann looks at me, smiles and nods again.
Any song that you and your beloved can immediately dive into together and sing together, no matter how off key (I speak of myself, not her) is a song to be embraced. Because after "Total Eclipse of the Heart", up came Lionel Richie's "You Are", which we sang all the way into the garage of The Cabana.
By the way, one of my favorite posts is when The Lovely Steph Leann said the line, "Lionel Richie is universal." If you never read it, go check it out... its from 2007 and some of the references are dated (like news of a new Harry Potter park being built at Universal Studios in Orlando)... but nonetheless, the part with Lionel Richie is, in fact, a hoot.
Chirp
Let's be straight up honest here... The Lovely Steph Leann has sinus issues and allergies. As a result of such issues, she has a... what I mean is, sometimes when she's sleeping... that is, she... okay, she snores. I don't say that to embarass her, I don't say that to call her out, I don't say that to put her down or shame her. In fact, its really nothing more than sinus issues that she consistantly deals with, which is nothing to be ashamed of. Do I snore? Perhaps. She says I do, though I've never heard the proof, so who knows--regardless of whether I do or not, that's not important. The fact that she does is important to our little tale.
I have several decisions to make in the evening concerning bedtime... do I go to bed and go on to sleep before she does? If I have to open at Starbucks, requiring a 410a wake up time, then yeah, there's a good possibility of that, or at least go to bed when she does. Do I stay up, doing stuff I wanted to do, like watch something on DVR, or blog, or read or whatever, then go to bed later, hoping if she is wailing away, I can suffer through it? Maybe. If I have to open at The Happiest Place in the Mall the next day, then I might be up a little later, or if I have the day off, I might stay up way late, then just go to bed and pass out.
Our nights are always a little different. Sometimes I nudge her with my foot, other times I bump her a little to get her to turn over.
This past weekend, The Lovely Steph Leann was out of town. Its so weird how, when she's here, I have to deal with if and when she's going to be sawing logs, but when she's gone, the house feels a little lonely. She came back a little worse for the wear, and on Monday was just feeling terrible... so much so, she called into work. Won't get into details, but she just wasn't feeling up to par.
I had Monday off, save for a short meeting at Starbucks that I attended, so for me, it was a day of well intentioned, yet non-producing laziness that we all need every now and again. Heck, I don't think I even showered until like, 2 or 3, which is when I finally got something to eat. I had a hard enough time staying focused when I was in college... dear goodness, if there had been Facebook, Roller Coaster Tycoon, DirecTV, DVR or the expanse of the interweb then as there is now, I'm not sure I would gotten anything done--I'd have been that guy to work hard at getting straight 0's.
Tuesday, I had a full day... had to be at Starbucks for what's known as a "princess shift", that being a shift of only 3 or 4 hours. I was due in at 7, working til 11, then home to shower, grab lunch and head to The Happiest Place in the Mall by 130 to work until close. So Monday, I was relaxing, but mentally preparing for time constraints--and lack of breaktime--the next day. The Lovely Steph Leann spent time with her mom on Monday evening, feeling marginally better but oh so exhausted.
I knew she was tired. I knew the weekend away, though fun for her, had just zapped her of all energy. And I knew full well she needed as much uninterupted sleep as she could possibly get. So, even though both of our heads hit our respective pillows around 1130p Monday night, I knew there was a more than good chance of me moving to the futon later on in the evening.
Upstairs in The Cabana are three bedrooms. The master is close to the front of the home, the back bedroom is large and though right now is more of a "catch-all" room, we do have plans for it, and the middle we just call "the guest room". In this guest room is a high quality, fancy schmancy futon couch bed that, when the noise gets a little too much for me, I grab my pillow and my phone (making use of the alarm) and blanket and head there. This past Monday night, it was just like that. I sat up in bed, just grabbed my pillow and blanket and headed down the hall. Because she was tired, it was one of those nights that I just didn't feel right about nudging her, or trying to move her around to quiet her sinuses... it was better just to let her be. See, that's the kind of awesome hubby I am.
Once in the guest room, I folded down the futon to the bed, spread one of my mom's famous quilts over it, then lay down, pulling another of my mom's famous quilts over me. Planted my head down, and drifted right on off to sleep. It was about 12:15am. Had to be at work in just under 7 hours, meaning I had to get up around 6:15. Six hours sleep? Wonderful. I'll take it.
1:45am
...chirp...
...chirp...
...chirp...
I opened my eyes, dazed, but not confused. There's only one sound that could be.
...chirp...
...chirp...
There's no mistaking that sound. Its a sound I can hear coming from the next house. Its a sound I heard many times in college cause we were all too broke to fix it.
...chirp...
The fire alarm batteries are dying.
...chirp...
I rolled out of bed off of the futon bed and stood up. Sigh. The Lovely Steph Leann and I have discussed this very scenario before--one day we'd have to replace these batteries, and I said, "We have no 9 volt batteries" and she would say, "We might. You will have to check." I never checked, but I knew the answer then, just like at 1:50am. We didn't have any.
Didn't stop me from going downstairs to check. I rummaged through the drawer that everyone has--the drawer of stuff that you don't know where to put it, and (chirp) stuff you don't need until you need it, at which time it somehow has magically disappeared to parts unknown, only to be found later when you either don't need it again or have replaced it and put the replacement back into that same drawer. That's a crazy run-on sentence, but everyone knows what I'm talking about.
I found a few candles, some matched, a couple (chirp) of cookie cutters, some AA batteries, a few AAA batteries, two D batteries, a single C battery (who needs only one C battery? In fact, what even uses C batteries anymore?) and a few other fun items. But no 9 volt batteries. Well, my solution? Take out the batteries on the fire alarms, both of them upstairs, and replace them later. I'll tell The Lovely Steph Leann and she won't let me forget, so it'll get done in a few days. Then I can sleep.
But... there's a problem with this plan. I'm a little shorter than I need to be for such a task. Somewhere, in the confines of The Cabana is a five foot step-stool ladder. Its somewhere. But I don't know where. Not too long ago, probably right after the 9 volt battery conversation, we had this exchange:
The Lovely Steph Leann: Where is the stepstool ladder?
Me: I dunno, haven't seen it. We probably need to find it.
The Lovely Steph Leann: Yeah, we do.
So now, at 2am in the morning, I have a crazy need for this particular stepstool. Back downstairs, through the kitchen, I open the (chirp) garage door and flip on the light. I'm tired, my vision is all jacked up, my throat is parched, I'm stumbling around even in the light, its not good times. Bad times.
I scan the garage, and don't see it. I check all the places that I've checked a few times before--the pantry, the small side porch, even (chirp) in the guest bathroom... like then, I find nothing. I make my way up the stairs, into the guest room, look around the walls--its like, five feet tall, so its not as if its hidden between a CD case and a dresser, for pete's sake. Nothing. I stick my head into the back bedroom and even though there are many boxes of things yet (chirp) unpacked, again, there's nothing of a ladder shape. I walk through to our little "bonus attic" room. Nothing. Except for a two foot tall Christmas Mickey Mouse that KT brought us a few years back (thanks KT!).
I stand at the end of the hallway, looking up at the fire alarm. How am I going to get (chirp) there? Not to mention that there's another fire alarm at the other end of the hallway, so I am not even sure which one is beeping. Thinking, racking my addled, tired brain, I look around for something. I grab the (chirp) rolling chair from the guest room out from the computer desk, and pull it into the hallway. I stand on it and realize I'm still at least a foot or two short. I roll it back, sighing. I need another chair to stand on... or... maybe two chairs... maybe if I stack chairs... no, the folding chairs we have won't stack like that (chirp) and they would all over and I'd break my fool neck and... but what if... what if I had more than two chairs? What if I... yeah... that might work...
I go back into the back bedroom and look around again, not for the ladder but this time for the folding chairs that we have in there... the five folding chairs we have in there. You know in the movies when someone is looking for something, and the camera scans the room and it goes by several things that they person isn't looking for, scans right by the thing that is being sought, stops and then snaps back to the thing needed? That's me with the chairs. And, within three minutes, I (chirp) come up with this:
Not a groundbreaking design, that of a chair pyramid, but for 2:20 in the morning, I can live with it. I climb atop the top chair, and reach up for the alarm. It screws out of the ceiling, attached by two wires--one red, one white, immediately making me think that if I cut the wrong one, the bomb goes off... actually, if I cut either, The Lovely Steph Leann goes off, and that might be worse. No battery compartment. I look it over, move it around, and find the battery door. I open it, and pull out the 9 volt. I carefully place it back in the ceiling, climb down, move the chairs one by one (so as not to clink and wake The Lovely Steph Leann) to the other end of the hall, the one by our bedroom door, climb up again and pull out the other battery.
Silence.
Victory is mine.
I move the chairs back down the hall, leaving them opened against the wall. I'll deal with them later. Its 2:25am, I have to be at work in about 4 and a half hours, so if I get to sleep, thats 4 hours. I can live with that. I mean, I already had about 2 or so, and though interrupted sleep isn't ideal, its what I got.
Sleep.
4:05am
...chirp chirp...
...chirp chirp...
...chirp chirp...
I open my eyes and sit up. Seriously? Like, seriously? So, are modern day fire alarms set up now to keep chirping when the batteries are removed? Both fire alarms now emit a high pitched chirp, almost in unison. And what's worse is, they didn't start that "battery removed, replace it!" chirp when I pulled the battery out.. oh no, no no... they both waited until I was settled down again, with my eyes closed, then somehow coordinated an attack on my stamina.
I suddenly have visions of me, hanging off of the ceiling by only the red and white wires, fire alarm in hand, pulling until they come loose. I have visions of an Office Space printer style execution, with a bat in a field, while some gangsta sings, "Die mofo die mofo die!" in the background. Visions of just hitting both of them hard with a hammer, as they remained planted in the wall.
Exasperated, I open our bedroom door, change from PJ pants to some regular shorts, toss on a better t-shirt, and head downstairs. To the garage. To the car. And to Wal-greens. And into Wal-greens. And to the battery aisle. And to pick up a four pack of 9 volt batteries. And back to The Cabana. And back upstairs. And back up the pyramid of chairs. And out with the old, in with the new. And back down the (chirp) pyramid of chairs. And (chirp) moving the chairs back down the hall. And back up the pyramid of chairs. And out with the (chirp) old, in with the new. And back down the pyramid of the chairs. And moving the chairs back down the hall again, so when The Lovely Steph Leann comes out of the bedroom, she doesn't walk into a wall of folding chairs.
Silence.
Blessed, sacred silence.
Its 4:45am. I have to be at work in a little more than 2 hours. Which means I can hopefully get about an hour, to an hour and a half of sleep. Maybe. Maybe I can sleep... maybe...
Sleep comes.
612am
...chirp...
I just lay there, open my eyes. Not only are the fire alarms openly mocking me, but it woke me up 3 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. I get up, head to the bathroom and get ready for work. For what was supposed to be anywhere from five to seven hours of sleep before a full day turned into maybe, possibly three to four hours of sleep in 90 minute segments. And The Lovely Steph Leann slept through it all.
EPILOGUE
When I got home from The Happiest Place in the Mall, I was pretty doggone tired. But it was managable. The Lovely Steph Leann was on the couch and we discussed our days of work, and I shared with her my eventful overnight battle with the two fire alarms (chirp) upstairs. We both agreed that the ladder was in fact, somewhere in this house.
Remember when I told you that my internal camera did the movie thing where I scanned the chairs, went past them, and came right back? Well, in this same movie, as I stood in frustration with no ladder, walking out of the back bedroom, the camera would have then focused on the closet in the corner. Because (chirp) that's where the stepstool was. Then I had to figure out which alarm was chirping. I stood under one and waited for it... chirp... not that one. Went to the other, and waited for it... chirp... and not that one either? Did I buy dud batteries? Did I (chirp)... wait... is that coming from our bedroom? I stick my head in the door, look up an lo and behold, there's another fire alarm. I wait for it... chirp... not that one either, but does this mean there are more fire alarms? I go into the guest bedroom, look up and right on cue, CHIRP. Loud and clear.
I bring the ladder in, open it up, take two steps up and replace the battery. Silence. Silence. Silence.
And even though its blessedly quiet now, I check the back bedroom, and yep, there's a fire alarm in there too. Turns out there are five alarms upstairs. Five. I've only got one free battery. And a day later, its sitting on an upstairs ledge. I'm sure I'll replace the other alarms. Maybe before the chirping. Maybe.
I have several decisions to make in the evening concerning bedtime... do I go to bed and go on to sleep before she does? If I have to open at Starbucks, requiring a 410a wake up time, then yeah, there's a good possibility of that, or at least go to bed when she does. Do I stay up, doing stuff I wanted to do, like watch something on DVR, or blog, or read or whatever, then go to bed later, hoping if she is wailing away, I can suffer through it? Maybe. If I have to open at The Happiest Place in the Mall the next day, then I might be up a little later, or if I have the day off, I might stay up way late, then just go to bed and pass out.
Our nights are always a little different. Sometimes I nudge her with my foot, other times I bump her a little to get her to turn over.
This past weekend, The Lovely Steph Leann was out of town. Its so weird how, when she's here, I have to deal with if and when she's going to be sawing logs, but when she's gone, the house feels a little lonely. She came back a little worse for the wear, and on Monday was just feeling terrible... so much so, she called into work. Won't get into details, but she just wasn't feeling up to par.
I had Monday off, save for a short meeting at Starbucks that I attended, so for me, it was a day of well intentioned, yet non-producing laziness that we all need every now and again. Heck, I don't think I even showered until like, 2 or 3, which is when I finally got something to eat. I had a hard enough time staying focused when I was in college... dear goodness, if there had been Facebook, Roller Coaster Tycoon, DirecTV, DVR or the expanse of the interweb then as there is now, I'm not sure I would gotten anything done--I'd have been that guy to work hard at getting straight 0's.
Tuesday, I had a full day... had to be at Starbucks for what's known as a "princess shift", that being a shift of only 3 or 4 hours. I was due in at 7, working til 11, then home to shower, grab lunch and head to The Happiest Place in the Mall by 130 to work until close. So Monday, I was relaxing, but mentally preparing for time constraints--and lack of breaktime--the next day. The Lovely Steph Leann spent time with her mom on Monday evening, feeling marginally better but oh so exhausted.
I knew she was tired. I knew the weekend away, though fun for her, had just zapped her of all energy. And I knew full well she needed as much uninterupted sleep as she could possibly get. So, even though both of our heads hit our respective pillows around 1130p Monday night, I knew there was a more than good chance of me moving to the futon later on in the evening.
Upstairs in The Cabana are three bedrooms. The master is close to the front of the home, the back bedroom is large and though right now is more of a "catch-all" room, we do have plans for it, and the middle we just call "the guest room". In this guest room is a high quality, fancy schmancy futon couch bed that, when the noise gets a little too much for me, I grab my pillow and my phone (making use of the alarm) and blanket and head there. This past Monday night, it was just like that. I sat up in bed, just grabbed my pillow and blanket and headed down the hall. Because she was tired, it was one of those nights that I just didn't feel right about nudging her, or trying to move her around to quiet her sinuses... it was better just to let her be. See, that's the kind of awesome hubby I am.
Once in the guest room, I folded down the futon to the bed, spread one of my mom's famous quilts over it, then lay down, pulling another of my mom's famous quilts over me. Planted my head down, and drifted right on off to sleep. It was about 12:15am. Had to be at work in just under 7 hours, meaning I had to get up around 6:15. Six hours sleep? Wonderful. I'll take it.
1:45am
...chirp...
...chirp...
...chirp...
I opened my eyes, dazed, but not confused. There's only one sound that could be.
...chirp...
...chirp...
There's no mistaking that sound. Its a sound I can hear coming from the next house. Its a sound I heard many times in college cause we were all too broke to fix it.
...chirp...
The fire alarm batteries are dying.
...chirp...
I rolled out of bed off of the futon bed and stood up. Sigh. The Lovely Steph Leann and I have discussed this very scenario before--one day we'd have to replace these batteries, and I said, "We have no 9 volt batteries" and she would say, "We might. You will have to check." I never checked, but I knew the answer then, just like at 1:50am. We didn't have any.
Didn't stop me from going downstairs to check. I rummaged through the drawer that everyone has--the drawer of stuff that you don't know where to put it, and (chirp) stuff you don't need until you need it, at which time it somehow has magically disappeared to parts unknown, only to be found later when you either don't need it again or have replaced it and put the replacement back into that same drawer. That's a crazy run-on sentence, but everyone knows what I'm talking about.
I found a few candles, some matched, a couple (chirp) of cookie cutters, some AA batteries, a few AAA batteries, two D batteries, a single C battery (who needs only one C battery? In fact, what even uses C batteries anymore?) and a few other fun items. But no 9 volt batteries. Well, my solution? Take out the batteries on the fire alarms, both of them upstairs, and replace them later. I'll tell The Lovely Steph Leann and she won't let me forget, so it'll get done in a few days. Then I can sleep.
But... there's a problem with this plan. I'm a little shorter than I need to be for such a task. Somewhere, in the confines of The Cabana is a five foot step-stool ladder. Its somewhere. But I don't know where. Not too long ago, probably right after the 9 volt battery conversation, we had this exchange:
The Lovely Steph Leann: Where is the stepstool ladder?
Me: I dunno, haven't seen it. We probably need to find it.
The Lovely Steph Leann: Yeah, we do.
So now, at 2am in the morning, I have a crazy need for this particular stepstool. Back downstairs, through the kitchen, I open the (chirp) garage door and flip on the light. I'm tired, my vision is all jacked up, my throat is parched, I'm stumbling around even in the light, its not good times. Bad times.
I scan the garage, and don't see it. I check all the places that I've checked a few times before--the pantry, the small side porch, even (chirp) in the guest bathroom... like then, I find nothing. I make my way up the stairs, into the guest room, look around the walls--its like, five feet tall, so its not as if its hidden between a CD case and a dresser, for pete's sake. Nothing. I stick my head into the back bedroom and even though there are many boxes of things yet (chirp) unpacked, again, there's nothing of a ladder shape. I walk through to our little "bonus attic" room. Nothing. Except for a two foot tall Christmas Mickey Mouse that KT brought us a few years back (thanks KT!).
I stand at the end of the hallway, looking up at the fire alarm. How am I going to get (chirp) there? Not to mention that there's another fire alarm at the other end of the hallway, so I am not even sure which one is beeping. Thinking, racking my addled, tired brain, I look around for something. I grab the (chirp) rolling chair from the guest room out from the computer desk, and pull it into the hallway. I stand on it and realize I'm still at least a foot or two short. I roll it back, sighing. I need another chair to stand on... or... maybe two chairs... maybe if I stack chairs... no, the folding chairs we have won't stack like that (chirp) and they would all over and I'd break my fool neck and... but what if... what if I had more than two chairs? What if I... yeah... that might work...
I go back into the back bedroom and look around again, not for the ladder but this time for the folding chairs that we have in there... the five folding chairs we have in there. You know in the movies when someone is looking for something, and the camera scans the room and it goes by several things that they person isn't looking for, scans right by the thing that is being sought, stops and then snaps back to the thing needed? That's me with the chairs. And, within three minutes, I (chirp) come up with this:
Not a groundbreaking design, that of a chair pyramid, but for 2:20 in the morning, I can live with it. I climb atop the top chair, and reach up for the alarm. It screws out of the ceiling, attached by two wires--one red, one white, immediately making me think that if I cut the wrong one, the bomb goes off... actually, if I cut either, The Lovely Steph Leann goes off, and that might be worse. No battery compartment. I look it over, move it around, and find the battery door. I open it, and pull out the 9 volt. I carefully place it back in the ceiling, climb down, move the chairs one by one (so as not to clink and wake The Lovely Steph Leann) to the other end of the hall, the one by our bedroom door, climb up again and pull out the other battery.
Silence.
Victory is mine.
I move the chairs back down the hall, leaving them opened against the wall. I'll deal with them later. Its 2:25am, I have to be at work in about 4 and a half hours, so if I get to sleep, thats 4 hours. I can live with that. I mean, I already had about 2 or so, and though interrupted sleep isn't ideal, its what I got.
Sleep.
4:05am
...chirp chirp...
...chirp chirp...
...chirp chirp...
I open my eyes and sit up. Seriously? Like, seriously? So, are modern day fire alarms set up now to keep chirping when the batteries are removed? Both fire alarms now emit a high pitched chirp, almost in unison. And what's worse is, they didn't start that "battery removed, replace it!" chirp when I pulled the battery out.. oh no, no no... they both waited until I was settled down again, with my eyes closed, then somehow coordinated an attack on my stamina.
Exasperated, I open our bedroom door, change from PJ pants to some regular shorts, toss on a better t-shirt, and head downstairs. To the garage. To the car. And to Wal-greens. And into Wal-greens. And to the battery aisle. And to pick up a four pack of 9 volt batteries. And back to The Cabana. And back upstairs. And back up the pyramid of chairs. And out with the old, in with the new. And back down the (chirp) pyramid of chairs. And (chirp) moving the chairs back down the hall. And back up the pyramid of chairs. And out with the (chirp) old, in with the new. And back down the pyramid of the chairs. And moving the chairs back down the hall again, so when The Lovely Steph Leann comes out of the bedroom, she doesn't walk into a wall of folding chairs.
Silence.
Blessed, sacred silence.
Its 4:45am. I have to be at work in a little more than 2 hours. Which means I can hopefully get about an hour, to an hour and a half of sleep. Maybe. Maybe I can sleep... maybe...
Sleep comes.
612am
...chirp...
I just lay there, open my eyes. Not only are the fire alarms openly mocking me, but it woke me up 3 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. I get up, head to the bathroom and get ready for work. For what was supposed to be anywhere from five to seven hours of sleep before a full day turned into maybe, possibly three to four hours of sleep in 90 minute segments. And The Lovely Steph Leann slept through it all.
EPILOGUE
When I got home from The Happiest Place in the Mall, I was pretty doggone tired. But it was managable. The Lovely Steph Leann was on the couch and we discussed our days of work, and I shared with her my eventful overnight battle with the two fire alarms (chirp) upstairs. We both agreed that the ladder was in fact, somewhere in this house.
Remember when I told you that my internal camera did the movie thing where I scanned the chairs, went past them, and came right back? Well, in this same movie, as I stood in frustration with no ladder, walking out of the back bedroom, the camera would have then focused on the closet in the corner. Because (chirp) that's where the stepstool was. Then I had to figure out which alarm was chirping. I stood under one and waited for it... chirp... not that one. Went to the other, and waited for it... chirp... and not that one either? Did I buy dud batteries? Did I (chirp)... wait... is that coming from our bedroom? I stick my head in the door, look up an lo and behold, there's another fire alarm. I wait for it... chirp... not that one either, but does this mean there are more fire alarms? I go into the guest bedroom, look up and right on cue, CHIRP. Loud and clear.
I bring the ladder in, open it up, take two steps up and replace the battery. Silence. Silence. Silence.
And even though its blessedly quiet now, I check the back bedroom, and yep, there's a fire alarm in there too. Turns out there are five alarms upstairs. Five. I've only got one free battery. And a day later, its sitting on an upstairs ledge. I'm sure I'll replace the other alarms. Maybe before the chirping. Maybe.