Stupid traffic updates

Alright, I knew this was going to be painful. Still, you don't realize how much traffic funnels through I-85 and GA-316 until it all gets routed off onto the surface streets. But if you're one of the many inconvenienced souls who has to travel through this way everyday, GDOT has a website dedicated specifically to the I-85/GA-316 project so you can see what they're gonna be doing and when.

Dead Even

Well, if you've checked in at Trailerboy's place, you already know that he & Rob were both down this week. (Congrats to you both!) Having reached 38.8 lbs last week, I was really hoping to make 40 lbs today.

No such luck. Hubby was own .8 lbs; I was dead even from last week.

That's actually OK. After one or two days this week of feeling like a Somalian refugee¹ and gorging myself accordingly, I fully expected to gain a pound or two. So when some chick in the back row of my meeting hit her 40-lb mark today... I smiled and said congratulations.

Yeah, it just kills me to be civil about this. ;o)

BUT I'm still on target to reach my goal weight by late spring or early summer. And I had a terrific moment yesterday when a co-worker told me that I'd lost plenty of weight and shouldn't lose any more. The thing is, she doesn't ever see me without my shirt, or she'd know exactly where my last 20 pounds are located. Onward and downward...

¹Ticket for one, express train please. Can I have a window seat?

Good God

This has to be one of the most disgusting displays of any sort to take place in the world today. Fred Phelps and other members of the Westboro Baptist Church (which consists almost solely of his spawn and other low-lifes who are just sick enough to marry into this dysfunctional clan; I refuse to link to his website) have started to demonstrate at the funerals of soldiers who are killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. His reasoning? You see, God doesn’t like the USA because we tolerate homosexuals. Therefore, God is taking out these soldiers, overseas. One and two at a time.

This man is a liar. He’s demonstrating at these funerals because he’s an attention-whore. Plain and simple. Fortunately, he’s been such a loose cannon for so long that he’s created his own brand of counter-demonstrators. A group of bikers called the Patriot Guard Riders will, at the family’s request, show up at the funeral location and place themselves between the family and the demonstrators in an effort to drown out Phelps and his hatemongers. Their motorcycles don’t exactly let the family mourn “in peace,” but they at least reduce the chances that a soldier’s mother will hear taunts like “You sent your own child to hell” on the day she’s trying to bury her son.

Truly disgusting, disturbed people. As someone told me years ago, “If that’s the word of God, it’s sure changed since I was in Sunday School.”

I wrote just a couple of days ago about freedom of speech in this country and how it’s under fire from outside sources. It seems that Minnesota (the site of the latest funeral demonstration) is considering legislation to make funeral protests like this one illegal. As much as I’d like to see the whole Phelps clan spontaneously combust, I think that’s a bad idea. Yes, his speech is incredibly tasteless and very unpopular. But the First Amendment was intended specifically for such garbage; after all, popular speech doesn’t need to be protected. I’d much rather the government either used existing laws to remove these cretins (inciting a riot, perhaps?) or remained neutral and allowed people like the Patriot Guard Riders to offer the help that they can.

Besides, if the government starts limiting what Phelps can say and where, then people like me might not be able to ask questions like what happened to Debbie Valgos?

I can't for the life of me understand why women get so worked up about this

Well, it looks like the sun may actually reappear before the end of the day, so my spirits have improved drastically in the last few days. In addition, I got to spend my lunch hour doing something that usually cheers me up: I got to go shopping. But you know, the thing I bought today is the one thing that brings me absolutely no pleasure in the shopping. I had to go buy shoes.

Back in the fall, I went with hubby as he shopped for new shoes for himself, and I stumbled across a good price on a pair of generic brown oxfords like I wear all the time. (They’re dressy enough for work and casual enough for jeans. Along with a pair of white tennies and a pair of hiking boots, I have shoes for every occasion.) Hubby snickered when I picked them up because they looked exactly like the pair I was wearing at the time. I ignored him and bought the cheap shoes. And likewise, I tend to go about every 18 months to stock up on black cotton Gold Toe Fluffies. They just go with everything, and I don’t break my neck searching for sock mates in the laundry. So when my socks started developing holes in the toe sometime back, I figured it was time to replace them. I tossed the old ones and picked up another bunch of Fluffies. And in the last week, I’ve developed four more holes in the new socks.

Ladies and Gentlemen, my new cheap shoes are rubbing holes in my new socks.

I didn’t wanna go buy new shoes. I just did it, and that was supposed to last me for two more years. But my original oxfords had finally just deploded, and the new ones were eating my socks. So I went to Discover Mills for lunch, had a bowl of Popeye’s Jambalaya for 6 points, and picked up oxfords and sneakers at Rack Room shoes. I hope that’s it for a while.

Now, while shoes bring me no pleasure at all, the same can not be for books, electronics, movies, CDs, house supplies... even groceries¹. So it irks me to go shopping for something I don’t really want, especially when there are a couple of things that I do want and can’t afford to spend the money on right now. Well, I could afford it if they were critical. But because hubby is self-employed, he’s officially one of those Evil Corporations that robs from the poor and gives to the rich. And the way his corporation is structured, he may very well end up paying more in taxes for 2005 than he made in salary last year.²

Anyway, these two things are German classes (Rob & I are planning to sign up together at the Goethe Institut) and monitor speakers for my studio. I’m getting antsy enough about my other potential purchases that I’m starting to carry around my unofficial audio equipment test CD in the truck. It’s the Symphonie Concertante by Belgian composer Joseph Jongen, performed by the San Francisco Symphony, with Michael Murray playing the Ruffatti organ at Davies Symphony Hall. If you don’t already own a copy, you should. The first 60 seconds will tell you everything you need to know about any audio equipment in the world. If you’re test-driving a pair of speakers, be sure to watch the salesman’s face when you remove his R&B thump-matic crooner CD and show him what you really expect his equipment to do. Added bonus is the folks who wander over from other departments to see where “that music” is coming from.

It’s quite possibly the most exciting orchestral composition to be written since Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. Seriously. And you don’t have a copy yet?

¹That’s obvious. Can’t you tell?
²No, I’m not kidding. Yes, it can work that way. And this year, it looks like it’s going to. Don’t freaking whine to me about your freaking social programs. Some of us just want to keep some of the money we make. Especially when we're providing jobs for other people.

OK, this cheered me up

Apparently Andrew Sullivan's beagles are just as easily entertained as my dogs.

Blech

I’m in a bit of a mood today, and I’m not sure what caused it. Hubby thinks he might be coming down with a cold, and I may be catching it. In addition, it’s just a skanky day all-around. The kind of day that looks like wet cotton. The kind that feels like you stumbled into a Dan Fogelberg¹ nightmare and can’t get out. The kind that epitomizes winter in Atlanta. For all my adoring fans who live on the Great Lakes, yes. I know it could be colder and darker out there. But still, I don’t think it’s possible for this town to be any drearier than it becomes every year at this time.

I’ve never been on a pair of skis before. Or a pair of ice skates. Or a snowmobile, for that matter. Yeah, all those things sound vaguely interesting to me, except that I’d have to travel several hundred miles to make any of them happen... and if I have to load my butt up on a plane, I’m making it somewhere warm. Here, we just get cold, and wet. And grey.

It’s better this year than last year, when I was taking a certain anti-inflammatory nasal spray used to treat the nasal symptoms of indoor and outdoor nasal allergies and year-round nonallergic nasal symptoms. I still contend that it made me very unbalanced and caused much more depression than usual. But you know, I haven’t heard anyone complain about it, and it’s not listed as a side effect on their website. Apparently I’m the only person in North America who was reduced to a blithering idiot by this drug. Therefore, I’m just going to continue not mentioning their name. I mean, all I need now is for some big pharmaceutical company to come after me for libel. And even though truth is a perfect defense in such cases, it just wouldn’t be worth the hassle.

Our stupid little groundhog did not see his shadow this year, which allegedly means winter’s over. That was about a week before the temperature plummeted into the mid-20s and stayed there for three days. My lawn is starting to green up... or was before winter’s last hurrah. And last Thursday, it was 67 degrees and sunny. And Friday, the fog and clouds and spitting rain re-appeared, and the temperature dropped back below freezing again, just in time for the weekend.

So when we retire, hubby wants to move up to the mountains. I can’t blame him so much for that; it’s where he grew up. I, on the other hand, did not grow up in any mountains and rarely saw temperatures below 40 degrees. I mean, I'm seriously starting to feel like Anakin Skywalker, and I’m thinking that somewhere like Phoenix² would be a terrific place to live whenever I decide to become a grumpy old man.³ 120-degree summers? Piece of cake. 121 days without rainfall? Meh. As long as the sun is shining, I don’t really care about much else.

So how 'bout it, Mr. Sun? How much more of this blah shiat am I gonna have to tolerate?

¹I used to think Auld Lang Syne was the most depressing song ever... I mean, it’s only ever sung by drunks who interrupt the biggest party of the year to croon their way through it. Fact is, it’s not nearly so depressing as the pop song it spawned. Can you tell me where you keep your razor blades?
²I mean, Tatooine.
³You know. Like next week.

FINALLY!

Well, after they started pushing down trees a couple of weeks ago, today they're going to have a ground-breaking ceremony for the new interchange at I-85 and GA-316. This must be a big deal. Even Ed Asner is going to be there.

By the end of the day, the left-hand lane of I-85 south will be closed between Boggs Road and Pleasant Hill. No word yet on where the GA-316 traffic will go when that happens. Me, I'm just dreading the day they demolish the Old Norcross Road bridge across I-85. Dunno how I'm gonna get home when that happens.

Censor This

So now a Muslim cleric has called for the head of the cartoonist [sic, bastard] who dared to draw the face of Mohammed. And like any good extremist, he didn’t even have the story right. There were 12 cartoonists, bubba. Not one.

Just around the corner from me, a Chinese-American was recently beaten in a home invasion. He thinks he was beaten by Chinese agents because he’s associated with Falun Gong and works for a newspaper that’s critical of the Chinese government.

You know, for all the protracted battles over freedom of speech that the USA has hosted in the last 230 years, the First Amendment is still alive and very well. It’s very rare for government at any level to encroach on this basic human right. (Though various governments try occasionally, they hardly ever prevail in the cold, hard light of a courtroom.) Which is one of the reasons I’ve always felt safe to say whatever I went, just about whenever and wherever I want without much fear in this country.

Now, that right is being threatened by outside sources, of all things. By thugs who just can’t stand the thought that we might not believe the same things they do. Maybe that means they feel threatened. If that’s the case, maybe these attacks could be considered a good thing?

I don't know. It honestly scares me.

At least at the far brighter end of the spectrum, we still occasionally get stories like this one. And as long as that happens, at least we're safe from our own government.

The Other English Andrew

Andrew Sullivan doesn't get much respect from anybody. He writes for such publications as Time magazine and The Sunday Times of London, as well as serving as senior editor of The New Republic. He's an open, unapologetic gay man living with HIV. He's a pro-life Catholic. He usually embraces conservative causes over liberal ones, but he endorsed John Kerry in 2004.

That said, he's usually able to piss off both sides in any political debate. And today, he makes a few observations about the "tolerance" he's found from folks who ought to know better:

No right-wing group has picketed a book-signing with posters depicting my face behind the cross-hairs of a gun, as the gay left did. No one on the right has gone nuclear on my private life, as the gay left did. No one on the right has threatened to find me in Ptown and split my skull open, or called me the anti-Christ, as some on the gay left have. Yes, I get homophobic hate mail from the right all the time; and many conservative blogs have blackballed or slimed or smeared me in various ways. But that's, sadly, what you get for being provocative and opinionated on the web.

Can we get back to some middle ground? Does anybody even remember what the middle ground looks like?

Another spiffy little red convertible back on the road

Congratulations are in order for Mr. Evan Person. After many months of ordering parts, waiting for parts, cancelling parts orders, starting over with other parts suppliers, and using a bigger hammer to force parts to fit, he successfully got the turbocharger installed and running in his little Miata last night. He brought it by the house last night on his way home... it sounds pretty mean.

So Evan, did you make it home without encountering Our Lady Of The Silver Broach?

We have a winner

Not that I'm going to shirk my blogging duties in favor of pointing you folks to other places, but Jon hit it right this morning. It's not about the cartoons.

General Lee-Roy

Well, somebody gets points for being ballsy.

Love, Waldo, and Cookies

Molly gets it right.

I'm still fat, but at least I'm not stressing about it.

Update: Dang. When I blogged about this commercial, I had no idea it was gonna keep garnering hits the way it has. Apparently that commercial is getting a lot of attention. But now I’m curious what people are hoping to find about it. If you’ve stumbled across my blog because you searched for “feel good pill,” would you leave me a comment (anonymous if you want) and let me know if you’re:

• Considering Relacore as a weight-loss aid
• Considering Relacore as a mood-enhancer
• Not considering Relacore but intrigued by these latest claims

I don’t work for Relacore or any other interested party, and I won’t use the information for anything but to satisfy my own curiosity. Thanks!

A few days ago at the breakfast table, I saw yet another one of those commercial for weight-loss pills. This time it was Relacore, and this time it was different. Instead of telling me how much weight I was going to lose, they told me that belly fat is caused by stress, and that even skinny people can benefit from taking Relacore. In their own words:

While millions are taking Relacore to help reduce stress-induced belly fat, millions more use Relacore as a “feel-good pill.”

Really. They even registered the domain name http://www.feelgoodpill.com. Klicken Sie herein to see the commercial.

And that’s followed by a parade of skinny, beautiful people (well, most of them are) telling me how Relacore changed their lives. That includes the requisite whiny bride who’s dealing with the stress of her wedding.

Here’s a thought. Elope. Your family and friends will love you for it.

Another quote:

My wife really does notice because I come home, I’m more calm throughout the night, I’m able to focus with her and the kids...

Of course, all that’s followed with the disclaimer that you should use Relacore in conjunction with any sensible diet and exercise program. But you know, any sensible diet and exercise program would net you a weight loss anyway. So can somebody tell me exactly what Relacore is supposed to do, besides dope you up so you don’t care that you’re fat?

Le Jour des Lapins

I've recently encountered a phrase in French that I learned years ago and promptly forgot: C'est une bonne idée. Word for word, it means, That's a good idea. Very useful, common phrase, yes?

Unfortunately, I haven't yet been able to say it without snickering -- same thing back when I was in school. It's not that there's anything wrong with the phrase. The problem is, it sounds for all the world like C'est une bunny day when you say it aloud. And how can you talk about a bunny day without smiling?

Update

I finally spoke with Andrew last night, for the first time since he called last week. He was very down: they buried his mother one year ago today. There’s not much other news, except that he’s managing about as well as you can expect. Marcus will be cremated this weekend, and there will be a memorial service on Monday. Andrew’s taking a few things to be cremated with Marcus: a teddy bear, a photo of their cat Spookie, and a photo of them taken just after Marcus proposed last year. Marcus’s parents have been staying in their (Andrew & Marcus’s) home, and Andrew was staying with his brother & sister-in-law. On Tuesday, everyone returned to their own homes. Fortunately he’s got many good local friends who are taking care of him.

In trying to make arrangements, Andrew expected to get a lot of grief from police officers and other officials because he’s technically not “family.” But he’s been pleasantly surprised in that regard: he figures people are a lot more accepting now that the law in England has changed.

He’s told me again how much it means to him to hear from each of you, and he truly appreciates it. Thanks for keeping him in your thoughts.

Looks like it works

When I imported all of my CDs into iTunes on my work PC, I set up a playlist called “Cheer Up Music.” Whenever I noticed that a song had the potential to seriously affect my mood in a positive way, I dragged its butt into this playlist. The theory here was that eventually I’d have a bad day and need something to cheer me up, so I may as well stash something away for those days. And then I mostly forgot about it.

Well, today has been my first seriously blue day in a long time (I binged on chocolate and now I'm regretting it), so I plug in my earbuds and give it a shot. For the record, it looks like this:

• Morten Lauridsen: O Magnum Mysterium (recorded by the Robert Shaw Singers)
• Babble: Tribe
• Emilie Autumn: Across the Skies
• Babble: The Stone
• Manhattan Transfer: Soul Food to Go
• Duran Duran: Hungry Like The Wolf
• Yaz: Don’t Go
• Enya: Book of Days
• Manhattan Transfer: Shaker Song
• Nine Inch Nails: Closer
• Thompson Twins: You Take Me Up
• Thompson Twins: The Gap
• The Cars: Let’s Go
• The Cars: Magic
• Concrete Blond: Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)
• DJ Bobo: Chihuahua
• Duran Duran: The Reflex
• K’s Choice: Believe
• Wendy Carlos: March from A Clockwork Orange
• Yaz: State Farm
• The Cars: Hello Again
• Culture Club: Time (Clock of the Heart)
• Pink Floyd: The Great Gig In The Sky
• Yaz: Situation
• Yaz: Walk Away From Love

It’s a veritable cheesefest, and I love every minute of it. :o)

For the record, the first song in the rotation was The Reflex. I was better before the initial fade-in finished.

Translation please?

There's a church just down from my house that has one of those lighted message boards out front. The message this week says, "Good without God is O."

I don't get it. If it's trying to be clever, it failed. If it's trying to be humorous, it failed. If it's meant to be taken literally, it still failed. Am I missing something?

Mmm, chocolate!

Weight Watchers has tips on getting through V-D for those of us who can't say no to chocolate. Good news: dark chocolate may not be so bad.

Spring cleaning

From the time that I first started blogging here, I’ve known full well that I’ve got a lot of stuff going on. I always do. Always have. I’m not sure I can help it, and I know I’m not alone in this. That’s one of the reasons that I took some time to decide if I wanted to start a blog or not. Yeah, I know. Some kids today¹ have no problem starting a blog the way I start a grocery list, the electronic equivalent of scribbling on the back of an envelope. I didn’t want to go about this in that way. On the one hand, it’s a journal for me to examine thoughts that are bothering me... pick them up, look them over, and put them into a box with other similar thoughts. It’s also a creative outlet. (If you haven’t done it lately, I’m finding that creation takes a lot of practice. And I haven’t done it much lately.)

But also, it’s a vanity project and – schmarmy as it sounds – a way to present myself to the world. And if I’m not making myself look good, I don’t wanna do it at all. I mean, if my house is a wreck, why would I invite the world in to see it? So in the beginning, I promised myself that I would post something every day. And lately I haven’t done that. Partly that’s because I’m busier at work. Partly it’s because I’m not sure I have anything worth presenting to my audience.

So today, you get to come in and see the whole mess. All the stacks of all the things that I’m trying to tend to. Maybe I’ll decide to chuck some of the stacks... but that’s going to make me feel like I’ve abandoned a project, which makes me feel like a failure², which is gonna bring up self-esteem issues. Or maybe I just need to decide what my goals are (i.e., how far I want to push each project) so that I can check each one off my list.

OK, enough blocking the door. It’s time to let the neighbors in.

Weight Loss: I’ve lost about 33 lbs since the beginning of October, and according to Weight Watchers, I’ve got about 20 more to go. If I can do that, I’ll become a lifetime member. I joined WW as a teenager and was thoroughly disgusted with the goal they assigned me then, and I gave up. (See failure.) I thought their adult goal was a little low too, but it’s been going very well, so I’m going to keep trying. I’ve had a pot belly literally all of my life, and I want to know what it’s like not to have one. This morning I realized that I don’t have near the muffin-top I used to have. I'm also taking a lot more pride in my appearance, my physical presentation to the world. I should be able to clear this stack within the next two months, and then I’ll be very, very happy. I will not to give up on this one.

Working Out: While I’d like to get to my target weight, I’d also like to achieve some semblance of a muscular body. My kid brother³, who was always skinny as a child, popped up a few years ago with a really beefy body, and I’ve been jealous ever since. I don’t necessarily want to be Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I’d like to turn an occasional head. I’ve got a Bowflex at home, and I’ve got a decent workout that doesn’t consume too much time. I’ve actually built up muscles before, but they were always covered by fat. This goal is also very attainable, so I’m not giving up on it either.

Languages: The language I've always most wanted to learn was German; however, my high school only offered French and Spanish courses. Of those, I decided I’d rather speak French. My college offered German, but I took the course of least resistance and re-covered all the French I took in high school again in college. Several years ago, I decided to study German on my own, and I worked at it off and on for years. Last year, hubby & I took a group tour of eastern Germany, and I mostly didn’t embarrass myself. That was my primary goal. Yay, me!

The same group is planning a tour to France next year, and I’d also like not to embarrass myself there. But there are a few problems:

• I forgot most of the French I learned in school.
• German makes sense to me. French really doesn’t.
• I’ve been studying pretty hard for a few months now, and French is still not quite natural for my tongue or my ears. I find it easier to comprehend a spoken German conversation that a spoken French conversation.
• Besides, my friend Rob is studying German and making great headway. He’s outpacing me pretty quickly.

I’d like to be able to hold a decent conversation with a native German and not feel the need to apologize for my accent. Honestly, I’d like to be able to list German on my resume and maybe get the chance to travel there occasionally. I’d like the same thing for French, but if I had to choose one, German wins. And I’m not even sure that French is second anymore. In fact, I can see me happily going along, collecting languages for the rest of my life. I’m tempted to revert back to studying German, but I don’t want to abandon the French again. I’ll let you know how this one plays out.

Guitar: Hubby gave me a six-string acoustic for Christmas several years ago, even though he really doesn’t like guitars.⁴ I’ve never gotten good at playing it. He says he didn’t expect me to make as much progress as I’ve made, and I really appreciate the sentiment, but it’s not enough for me. I’m not confident enough to play in front of anyone. So on Sunday, I acquired a music stand (which has been a huge obstacle to setting up any music in front of me), and I started from the beginning of Adam Kadmon’s Guitar Grimoire. I’m planning to set aside a few minutes each day to practice. Eventually I’d like to play this beast in public, but as long as I can see incremental progress for now, I’ll be happy.

Piano: We bought a baby grand Yamaha several years ago, and I haven’t played it nearly enough. I used to play for high school choirs, church choirs, weddings, receptions... and it’s all fallen by the wayside. I don’t necessarily want to accompany anyone or play for events, but I’d like to play again for my own enjoyment. This one’s a back-burner goal.

Recording: Several years ago, I assembled a small studio in my home, and I’d like to be able to make and sell my own music. It would be great to do this full-time, but I don’t have any delusions. It will probably always be a hobby that maybe makes me a little money on the side. Trouble is, I’m scared to death of failure... of producing something awful and being laughed at. I’ve got a few pieces underway and some of them will probably pan out, but I can’t bring myself to finish them. My latest excuse is that my headphones are a little too bass-heavy, and of course that skews my perception, so I need to get some good monitor speakers. Trouble is, it’s hard to create if you don’t have an audience. I recently uncovered a website that allows musicians to post songs and offer feedback to each other. I’ve even found a couple of local musicians that I’d like to approach about collaborating, but I’m not going to do it until I have something of my own to show them. I’d love a collaborator, but I need to prove myself to myself first. Back to the trenches. At least I now have a near-term goal and a reason to finish some of those songs.

On top of all that, hubby’s painting a car (which he can mostly do without help from me, thank goodness), and we’re trying to keep his office running while he hires an office manager. I spent a couple of hours there last night filing because there’s simply nobody else around to do it. And my Triumph needs brake lights, and two other cars just need to be assembled, and we haven’t done any renovation work to the house in a couple of years.

So that’s why I was wary of starting a blog, and it’s also why you haven’t heard from me in a few days. I don’t want to undertake any more projects, but I also don’t want to abandon any of these. I want to be able to say that I finished them, or at least most of them. And now that I’ve got a goal for each of them, maybe I can.

¹Get off my lawn!
²Well, that’s a strong word, but you get my drift.
³He hates it when I call him that.
⁴That’s an understatement, and there are actually business reasons why he doesn’t like them. He's really not that much of a curmudgeon. Most days.

From Andrew

I got a text message from Andrew late last night. It arrived on my phone at about 9:30, so if it didn't get held up in the transmission, it means he sent it at about 2:30 am his time. He asked me to thank everybody for your e-mails and to let you know that it's a huge comfort to hear from everyone here.

I called a few minutes ago to check on him, but he didn't answer. I'll try again later and let you know if I get hold of him. I'm sure there will be some kind of memorial service, but I don't know when. I'll keep you all posted.

Thanks.

Huh?

I'm spending my Friday afternoon importing music from CDs to my iTunes program at work. If you've done this, you know that iTunes checks some online database whenever you insert a new CD and automatically downloads the album and track names, artist, genre, and all that stuff. So you don't have to type it in.

So I'm importing an unusual CD, which was produced in a very limited run. It's a recording of the dedication concert for the new Nichols & Simpson pipe organ at the Cathedral of St. Augustine in Kalamazoo Michigan, played by Ken Cowan. When I put in disc 1, the database search finds nothing. Well, duh. This ain't Coldplay. But when I put in disc 2 - which is a single track (a 19-minute work called "Jesu, Meine Freunde," written by Sigfrid Karg-Elert) - iTunes downloads the following info:

Album name: Charge Tension Discharge
Artist: ChopShop
Album: Charge Tension Discharge
Genre: Jazz

Um... No. Don't think so.

It shouldn't be this hard

My partner has always been wary of paying bills automatically – either by credit card or with automatic deduction. I always sort of understood why that gave him the jibblies, but it wasn’t until last month that this became crystal-clear for me. Last year we signed up for Vonage service at home and at his shop. After six months of trying to fix problems with his fax line, we attempted to cancel the shop service last summer. They dicked us around for six months, swearing that they would cancel our service, “forgetting” to do so, and continuing to hit our credit card. When we called back to yell at them, they claimed that they had no record that we wanted to cancel, and that they would take care of it. And we would start all over again.

No lie: I finally called my credit card company to report my card stolen solely so that I could obtain a new card with a new number.*

Vonage = Evil. Do not EVER give them a single cent.

Now XM Radio, which up to this point has made me a very happy customer, is dancing dangerously close to the same edge. Last month we sold my car, and I called on January 13 to cancel the XM service on the radio in that car. Keep in mind that I’m not canceling my account. I’m keeping two radios and canceling a third because I sold that car. I tried to cancel the radio for the first time on January 13. That was a nightmare experience, but I finally got hold of someone who said she would cancel the service. And then she offered to send me a new radio for my new car, pre-authorized and ready to go.

“What kind do you want?”, she asks.
"I don’t know,” I say.”
Well, we can give you up to three days to decide if you’d like to call us back.”
"Cool. Thanks.”

That was three weeks ago. Yesterday I realized they hadn’t deleted my radio yet... and that’s where things really start to go downhill. Here’s a list of everything they’ve done wrong since then.

• I sent one of those “contact us” e-mails asking how to delete a radio (and gave them my radio ID) and got an automated response that they would reply in 24 hours. They didn’t.
• They do not provide any way to disconnect a radio online. Or if they do, they damn sure don’t make it easy to find.
• Their automated attendant (which has a cutesy name like Kylie or Kayla or Skank Whore or whatever) requires you to announce your needs so that all of your co-workers can hear you. I don’t know which company started that idea, but it sucks. STOP IT NOW.
• Kylie/Kayla/SW cheerfully tells you that you can interrupt her at any time, and she’s lying. If you try to interrupt, you find yourself trying to shout so that you can be heard over a computer.
• At one point, Kylie/Kayla/SW suggested that I should say “Manage Account” if I want to activate or deactivate a radio. And when I got hold of Joey $2-an-hour, he said he couldn’t deactivate radios. “Then why is that an option on your automated attendant!?”, I ask, clearly losing my patience. “Yes sir, we know, and we’re working to change it.” And he gave me another number to call.
• I call the other number and get hold of someone from a foreign country. I’m really NOT a xenophobe. I’m trying to learn two different foreign languages because I think it’s a mortal sin to visit another country without being able to speak the language, and I’m trying my damnedest to minimize my accent. And I don’t care if you want to hire little green men from Neptune to staff your phone center, but hear this: If I’m calling customer support, there’s a good chance that I’m already pissed off, and I NEED TO BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THE PERSON ON THE OTHER END OF THE PHONE WITHOUT ASKING HER TO REPEAT EVERYTHING SHE SAYS.
• After I explained that we were canceling the radio because we sold the car, and I turned down her offer to purchase a replacement radio (because I have a feeling that’s why they refused to cancel my service last month), she went through an entire script about how wonderful XM is, and do you know that you can hear sports, commercial-free music, and local traffic and weather reports? Yes, I do. Because if you were paying attention, you’ll notice that I’ve had the service for 18 months, and I’m keeping two other radios.

She did do one small thing that redeemed XM radio in my eyes. She offered to credit me for a month’s service since the last lady obviously didn’t cancel the radio. So to recap:

• Give me what I ask for the first time. To do otherwise is called stealing. (That comment is aimed more at Vonage than XM, since XM did correct their error.)
• Either let me handle it myself online, or give me to someone who is qualified and willing to give me what I ask for.
• Have a human answer your e-mails.
• Screw it: have a human answer your phone.
• If you have to make me talk to a machine, let me use the keypad to navigate.
• If you change your options, MAKE SURE YOU UPDATE THE ATTENDANT.
• If your caller calls the wrong number, you better be able to transfer them. Especially if you don't publicize the number he was supposed to call.
• If you must ask your call center to read marketing scripts to customers, make sure the scripts are appropriate. Your employee wasted a whole lot of breath telling me something I already knew.

Final summary: they did finally fix it, but I had to go through A LOT of trouble to make it happen. But if that radio still shows up on my account, you’ll hear about it here.

*Yeah, this is a nasty way to deal with it, but after six months of trying to be nice and continuing to be charged, they honestly left us with no choice.

One of Marcus's legacies

...is that he and Andrew turned me on to hot tea last summer while they were visiting. I've found it's a good way to kill my appetite for afternoon munchies with virtually no calories. And the latest offering from Bigelow is really, really good: They've also got Vanilla Hazelnut, Vanilla Chai, and Vanilla Almond. Ooh, it's good. :o)

Progress, finally

I work just off of Georgia Route 316 just NE of Atlanta. It’s the primary highway that runs from Atlanta to Athens – a serious college party town – about 38 miles one way. Remember the B-52s heading down the Atlanta Highway, looking for a love get-away? GA-316. (And the love get-away was an old bar called The Cove, but that’s another story.) This road was woefully inadequate when it was completed 15 years ago, and it’s just been getting worse. Four lanes might handle the traffic that travels this road every day, but the stoplights every 3-5 miles only serve to bunch the cars together, which means you’ll never get a chance to pass anyone. And westbound, as you approach I-85, both lanes are funneled into a single lane, which then merges with I-85 from the left. Into the fast lanes. Yeah, Sparky. Great plan there.

I know some parts of this highway date back to the 1960s, but that I-85 merge debaucle was all 1990s action.

Well, GAyDOT has finally decided to do something about it, and they’re starting with the I-85 mess. 40 miles of new lanes in that interchange alone, plus a buttload of new bridges. And it’s only going to take a mere 40 months to complete. (If they were gonna play football on it, they would have already finished it.) But they started clearing trees this week to make way for the construction. At least they’re moving in the right direction this time.

Marcus

I haven’t posted lately because I’ve been busy at work, and because I figured there wasn’t much news and I wouldn’t bore you with trivia. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the kind of news I was waiting for. This is an amalgamation of a couple of e-mails that I just sent to my friends and my boss.

I just got a call from my English friend, Andrew. Marcus, his partner of 15 years, was killed earlier today in a workplace accident. He was trying to repair a piece of machinery that was malfunctioning in the factory where he worked, and something dropped across his neck and suffocated him. It happened at the beginning of a tea break (about 2:30 England time; 9:30am here), so no one found him for about 10 minutes. He died at the hospital. The police came to tell Andrew at work.

There’s not much that I can do at this time other than talk to him on the phone (which I’ve already done). If we lived in the same area, I would take time off to attend the funeral, but it’s really not feasible to fly to England. I met Andrew in high school, when my French teacher suggested that I put my name in a pen-pal database to meet students from foreign countries. We’ve had an odd relationship in that we’ve written and called each other for more than 20 years, but we’ve only been together for three extended visits: in 1991 when Andrew visited here alone (just after he met Marcus), in 1993 when we visited them in England, and last summer when they were both here. Last year’s trip was a gift from Andrew to Marcus for his 40th birthday: a visit to Vegas and Atlanta. While they were in Vegas, Marcus surprised Andrew with an engagement ring. They were planning to be married this year in England.

Andrew’s at home now, alone at the moment. His sister & brother-in-law came to get him from work and take him home. She then took her husband home and is headed back to spend the night with Andrew. Marcus’s parents are on the way into town tomorrow. I don’t think there are really any other details yet.

Andrew is numb. He’s able to laugh, mainly I think to keep himself from crying. He’s also still talking about Marcus in the present tense, so I don’t think it’s hit him yet. He says he’s at home, waiting for Rosemary to come back, and he’s calling everyone he can think of. Me, I’m at my desk, getting ready to go home for the day, and I can’t really do anything to help him. I don’t know whether to send flowers or what. If I were there, I’d be with him at home. If he were here, I’d hurry home to put a casserole in the oven. (I don’t know if the rest of you Americans do that, but southerners sure do.) I’m sure my boss would understand if I wanted to leave work early... but for what? So I can sit alone at home until my partner gets there?

Anyway, I feel really, really helpless, and I don’t know what to do.

So there. There’s some news for you. If you know Andrew and want to write him, let me know and I’ll get you his address.