The Next Dark Age
We're in it Now
More Starbucks Substitutes
My mother bought herself one of those new-fangled coffee machines from Keurig around Christmas. I imagine you have seen them. They use little “pods” a bit larger than an old container of creamer and brew one cup of coffee at a time.
Planning a Vacation with Alex
My nephew, Alex, is five years old. He likes football, television, video games and camping in the basement with his dad. The last time he was at my house, he actually whined that he didn’t want to go home. They had to remind him that he was going to pitch the tent in the basement with Daddy that night. He also likes hotels.
I believe I wrote about the night, just over a year ago, when I took Alex to the Marriott Lincolnshire. We spent the night at the hotel and went to (five minutes) of the children’s theatre production of Aladdin the next morning. He hated the theatre, but still talks about “going on vacation” with Aunt Anne.
So I spoke with his mother, Becky, about taking another trip with him this summer. I wondered if he could do more than one night away from home. She was convinced that he could, but suggested that he was old enough to decide for himself. So she asked him:
Becky: Alex, would you like to go on vacation with Aunt Anne and stay at a hotel?
Alex: Yes!
Becky: Would you like to go for one night or two nights? How many?
Alex: (thinking for a second) Five nights!
Alrighty then.
The next weekend, I was at their house, before the Chicago Slaughter game. I had him take out his atlas and we sat down to decide where we might go. I’d been thinking Indianapolis, but was kind of jazzed about negotiating with the boy.
We found Chicago on the map. I used his grandparents’ home, near Galena, as the benchmark. I pointed to it and said:
“That is where Grandma and Grandpa live. That is three hours in the car.”
We talked about St. Louis, Milwaukee and Indianapolis. I even asked if he wanted to take a train and spend the weekend in Chicago. He said:
“But I’ve already been to Chicago.”
We were leaning toward Indy. Then he asked about Michigan. I pointed to Ann Arbor:
Me: OK, Alex. Here is Ann Arbor. That is where the Wolverines play. Aunt Bev lives there, so we could see her, too. But Ann Arbor is five hours in the car. That’s pretty far. Indianapolis is only three hours, like going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
Alex: But it would make Aunt Bev so happy.
By the end of the conversation, we hadn’t made a decision. But I’m thinking I’d better call Aunt Bev, just in case.
Sigmund
It seems I haven’t told you about Sigmund yet. New foster bird. He came in with another grey and I brought him home because no one had really been able to handle him yet.
For the whole three weeks I have had him, he hasn’t given me a problem once. He steps up very nicely. I am thinking he just prefers the left-handed approach. I am still trying to get a handle on his vocabulary, but he is a very good eater.
Obviously, he has been a pretty bad feather plucker. But I am encouraged by some new feather growth and he does not seem to be picking at it.
So, my first Sigmund story starts with the note that last Sunday my mother fell in the garage and broke her foot. When I was awakened in the middle of the night by something crashing, I was sure it was her. I burst into her room and all was quiet. She’s looking at me like I’m a lunatic.
If it wasn’t her, it had to be the birds. I remembered that the morning of the earthquake, Kiwi had fallen on her face and gotten all bruised. I went downstairs and found blood all over Sigmund’s cage. He was sitting in the water dish, all shaken up. I had to towel him to get him to the bathroom and assess the damage.
He was all frantic and wouldn’t let me check him out, but the bleeding had stopped. I figured that he had fallen off his high perch and banged a blood feather that was growing in on his wing. There didn’t appear to be anything broken.
So, feeling all sick and light-headed, I put him back to bed, figuring I would ask our director to take a look at him the next day, just in case. He was not at all surprised. Apparently, Sigmund is a rather clumsy bird.
So here’s the funny part. My mother was saying that while a crashing noise made me first think “Mom fell” and second think “Birds fell”, her brain went to “someone is in the house”. Right at that moment I realized that our front door had been unlocked the entire night. She thought a second and said, “Well, I knew that no one was in the house because you had gone downstairs and would have screamed if someone was there.”
“Mom. I couldn’t scream. I’d lost my voice.”
She said, “I couldn’t have helped you anyway. My foot is broken.”
Compromised
Since I am home sick, sitting in bed and unable to talk, I finally have time to tell this story of the very, very stupid thing I did on vacation and how I fixed it:
The parking lot of the hotel had one of those gates that guests use their room keys to activate when they come and go. As I was heading out one morning, there was a couple in front of me, in a convertible, having trouble getting out the gate. I backed up, thinking they would back up and let me go by while they figured it out.
They did not. The wife hopped out of the car and ran back to the front entrance to get help. She came back alone, told her husband to back up and try again, like there was a sensor or something that has to be triggered. Didn’t work. Long story short, they couldn’t get the thing to work and wouldn’t get out of my way. It went on for at least 10 minutes.
Finally, the lady came back and asked if they could use my room key on the gate. In my impatience, I gave it to her.
I gave her my room key. Of all the paranoid travel safety rules, I broke that one.
Somehow, in my brain, she was going to walk up to the gate, swipe my card and walk it back to me. All where I could see her. Instead, she got back into the car and handed it to her guy. After a few seconds, he swiped the card and the gate opened. He drove threw. Only then did she get out of the car and walk the key back to me. I drove up, swiped it again and drove out myself.
I headed out to the main road behind them and saw leave. But then I start debating with myself.
- We are all on vacation. They probably just demagnetized their room key with the cell phones. Happens all the time.
- My room key was out of my sight, in the hands of a stranger. They could have swapped keys. They could have my room key.
- Please. Someone staged that whole thing to get a room key?
- Kate and Sawyer would do that.
- Seriously. The room key doesn’t have a room number on it. They would have had to stake me out to find out what room I am in.
- Kate and Sawyer would do that.
- My computer, iPod, Kindle, and wallet are in that room.
I turned around, went to the front desk, and had my keys reset. Problem solved. But still:
What should I have done in this situation?
In hindsight, I thought about taking my key to swipe it for them much earlier in the drama, but I decided it would appear impatient and presumptuous. However, when the lady came back and asked, I probably should have taken my key, gotten out of my car and walked it up at that time.
But never, never give someone else the room key.
About the Credit Cards
When I read about the new credit card rules, my first thought was, “Huh. I’d better use my safety card once or twice.”
Because the credit card companies now have the right to charge fees on cards that haven’t been used. I still have my college Mastercard from Citibank. It was good to me, but the rewards weren’t there. So I stopped using it actively and kept in in the house for emergencies. I hadn’t gotten to using it yet, and now I won’t have the chance. I received a letter from Citibank today saying they had cancelled the card due to its non-use.
Hm. I guess that’s their prerogative. But if they had asked nicely, or even just charged the fee before closing the account, they would have kept my business. Perhaps even increased it. Because I had a stupid sentimental attachment to that card. Still have the number memorized.
I understand the credit card companies need to shift the paradigm on the business model or whatever, so I don’t have a problem waiting it out while the feds and the banks arm wrestle over the questions of profit and stability and fairness and service. I realize that is a luxury. I realize that I have been milking the rewards program. And Eric Zorn at the Chicago Tribune says in this article that I have been rewarded at the expense of the poor, so I felt bad for about five minutes. Because what am I supposed to do, not work the programs?
My primary need for credit cards is convenience. The rewards are nice, but secondary. I don’t want anyone to go bankrupt over them, though.
So goodbye, Citibank. No hard feelings. Thank you for giving me my very first credit card. I hope you find what you are looking for in the next girl.
(But somehow I doubt it.)
Being Sick and Other Randomness
My voice is still gone. And I actually had to leave our department planning meeting today because I couldn’t stop coughing. So I went to the doctor, who put me on an anti-biotic and told me to stay home. And really. Rest the vocal chords.
When I woke up this morning, I knew it would be a struggle to get through the day. So I did my hair and make up for reals and put on a skirt. And you know what happened?
I was walking through the grocery store to pick up the prescription when I ran into one of the young ladies that bags groceries. I am ashamed to say that I don’t know her name, but I see her once or twice a month. She said, “You look really pretty today.” I barely managed to whisper a “thank you” so she must think I am very rude. But here is what you should know: Bare Escentuals. Foundation as concealer.
And the other randomness:
First, Costco just won a thousand points with me. I went to get gas at the Costco gas station. Because it is Members Only, we are required to swipe our member cards and then our credit cards. My membership had expired. It let me get gas anyway. It looks like they will only let you get away with it once, but when the weather is bad, that means a lot. So thank you, Costco.
Second, a colleague was selling girl scout cookies for his daughter. I bought a box of the new ones with cranberry in them so that I wouldn’t buy two boxes of Thin Mints. And they were really good. Such that I bought another box, which is what I was trying to avoid in the first place!Lost My Voice
Literally. As in I Cannot Speak Out Loud. I can only whisper. I was on vacation and barely spoke to a single person for six days and was just fine, but in my real life?
I can’t do my job.
I had an allergy attack almost two weeks ago that I never got under control. Starting coughing Saturday and had a pretty sore throat on Sunday. I was in meetings all day yesterday. When I woke up this morning unable to speak, I had to have my mommy call the doctor and get me an appointment. The diagnosis?
“I think your (self) diagnosis was spot on. Rest your vocal chords for three days, but there isn’t much else to be done.”
Rest my vocal chords?
I have a department planning meeting on Thursday. Maybe we can make an icebreaker out of Anne Charades.
Chicago Slaughter
My brother, Scott, and I had talked about going to see a Chicago Rush game before the arena league suspended its season. The Chicago Slaughter is the other arena league team in the area. Bears Great Steve McMichael is the head coach, Jim McMahon recently bought the team and signed Jarrett Payton. So we picked up tickets to take Alex to the first game of the season.
It was a 7pm start, so there was no way Alex was going to make it through the entire game. We figured on leaving at the half. The first thing we noticed was that there were a lot of people there. Not a sell out, but:
Just a Geek, by Wil Wheaton
Book 8
Wheaton takes his old blog entries and expands on them. Sometimes it is fleshing out a story, sometimes clarifying his meaning and sometimes calling Bullshit on himself. If you are looking for Star Trek gossip, there isn’t a whole lot. But if you enjoy his blog, the book is a nicely done companion piece.
Some Good News
I had a day at work. I thought it was going to be terrible, but I actually left feeling better than I had when I arrived in the morning. I love when that happens.
So I went over to the Park Center to walk on the track for a bit before a quick dinner at Noodles before heading over to the Library. I zoned out while walking and suddenly it was 5pm. I love when that happens.
I checked my e-mail while eating dinner and there was a note from my mother asking if I remembered to call our mechanic to make an appointment for an oil change. Damn. I also forgot to call Dr. Sakas for the results from Kiwi’s asper recheck. I checked the clock. It’s not too late! I love when that happens.
The receptionist answered the phone and put me on hold to check the file. In fact, they had called the house an hour before to let me know that the test came back negative.
“Negative?” I was actually surprised, after eight months of medicine twice a day. “You mean we can take her off the medicine?” She went to check with the doctor. Two more weeks, just to be sure. Then we can drop the meds.
People, I could have cried. I was so happy that I called my mother. Here’s what I got:
“So did you call Bill? (the mechanic)”
But then she offered to call him for me.
For a minute there, all was right with the world.
The Next Dark Age 