I'm currently reading Circling My Mother by Mary Gordon.
Gordon is one of the best writers I've come across in a long time. She has woven her mother's story into her own so that at once the reader discovers a path of life familiar to all human stories. Born of a mother disabled by polio, Gordon gently tells the story from her childhood eyes rocking back and forth between the business woman mother and the mother crippled as much from a disfunctional family as by her polio. The book begins with a trip to a museum to see Bonnard's work, art that becomes for Gordon a therapy and a lens; both of which help Gordon understand her mother (Anna) and the relationship of an only child with a mother widowed by a husband who never told either of them of his previous marriage. Coming full circle, the book ends with Bonnard's work and this time the reader, with Gordon, becomes the voyuer, wondering how appropriate it is to expose our mothers' most intimate parts--body and soul.
Anna has grown old into her nineties and with aging has come dementia. Her daughter, now acclaimed author, must care for her through the hands of a nursing home staff. The tension of loving and resenting a mother who loved large and lived even larger than life, for the author, does not end with death.
27 December 2009
20 December 2009
Fruitcake as Lump of Coal:
Borrowing today's post from Michael G. Howell who has given permission for me to copy his work on my blog.
Fruitcake as Lump of Coal: A Derridian Deconstruction of a Loathed Holiday Icon
by Michael G. Howell
Close your eyes for a moment and try to explain what comes to mind when I say Fruitcake. With any number of people with any other word; cat, for example, everyone will have a different mental image of a cat. But with fruitcake the results would appear to be almost universally similar. Similar and negative. It’s hard to imagine a more despised holiday pastry than the fruitcake. The dense, dark cake, heavy like a tumor, impregnated with impossibly bright and sweet chunks of candied fruit appears as appetizing as a loaf of steamed leather. Yet the fruitcake still remains firmly seated in our collective consciousness as a symbol of that most wonderful time of the year. But to be sure, receiving a fruitcake, while once upon a time thought of as a kind gesture, has transformed over several generations to the equivalent of receiving a lump of coal in the stocking. In other words; if you get a fruitcake this year you must have done something very, very wrong.
How could something seemingly so fantastic have drastically turned into the Grinch of pastries? On the one hand you have cake. Who doesn’t enjoy cake? Cake is delicious. Cake brings people together. Cake is used to celebrate just about every major and minor accomplishment a person could conceivably achieve. Cake is a cornerstone of any and all festivities in myriad social gatherings.
And fruit. Since the dawn of time (save for that one minor set back in a garden long ago involving a serpent and an apple) fruit has been one of the most important food items in every culture. And the sheer variety of shapes, sizes, colors, and tastes in the fruit world pretty much guarantees there is at least one fruit somewhere in the world growing on a tree or bush that is just right for you. It tastes great and it’s good for you. What better to offset the empty calories of cake than fruit?
Perhaps the fruitcake represents that old adage “too much of a good thing.” Cake is good, fruit is good so shouldn’t good + good = freaking awesome? But it doesn’t. At least not anymore. At one time, perhaps, fruitcake was beloved by all. Around the 16th century a popular way to transport fruits was by storing them in strong concentrations of sugar. This practice lead to the inevitable sweetening of the fruit and enhancing the color, as well. Eventually fruits not native to an area could be transported from far away lands leading to a virtual cornucopia of colors and flavors hitherto unknown in the civilized world (which at the time was western Europe). By the 19th century the fruitcake became a staple because, well, what else are you going to do with a bunch of candied dry fruit?
The result was a brick-like “food” with bits of fruit embedded inside. From the outside you might mistake it for a shoe box (though some traditional fruitcakes took on a more round, pound cake appearance). Usually the fruitcake in everyone’s mind is this impossibly heavy, possibly armored, dense, soul-sucking block that, in all probability, would withstand a nuclear holocaust. But before you go hoarding fruitcakes to build a bunker I should tell you that a fruitcake fort probably won’t withstand anything stronger than a 5 megaton detonation. And in all likelihood anything we get hit with will probably be at least 10 megatons.
It’s appearance should be your first clue that maybe something isn’t quite right with this so-called cake. I mean, really, cakes aren’t supposed to look like they’ve just been dug out of the ground. That might be why the British (and what greater culinary experts are there) started putting icing on the tops of their fruitcakes. Lipstick on a pig? A coat of paint on ancient ruins ain’t gonna make it the Taj Mahal. Icing on a fruitcake, while a noble endeavor, is merely a cosmetic change and merely attempts to hide the otherwise disturbing product. Upon closer inspection the subterfuge won’t last.
But certainly something that looks just so incredibly inedibley wrong must have some redeeming feature. What about taste? Surely it is a delicious tasty culinary phenom. I’m sorry to say, no. A slice of your average fruitcake will more than likely send you into a diabetic coma. The amount of sugar guarantees that a slice is nothing less than a tooth melting disaster. Some people have a sweet tooth and might be able to handle it. For some reason the Japanese seem to enjoy fruitcake. But if you’re like me you stopped trying to figure out the Japanese a long time ago. If you could somehow just have small bite-sized fruitcake nuggets (patent pending) then fruitcake might just be tolerable. But no. You have an entire loaf of this stuff taking up precious counter space in your kitchen. And you and it both know that it won’t move until the following year when you give it to someone who did you wrong.
Apart from icing there weren’t many more attempts to pretty up a fruitcake. It’s as if a council of cooks got together to head scratch over what to do about this food brick. They squirted some icing on it and called it a day. That was the ultimate fix, the best and only thing they could think of. So taste had to be addressed. Enter the 19th and 20th century southern United States.
The Southern half of the United States has some wonderful culinary traditions. I won’t get into them here since we’re talking about the opposite. But you’d figure that the South would find a way to rise (the fruitcake) again. Their solution to the tragically sweet taste: just add nuts. Ok, so now not only is it so dense that it has its own gravitational pull, elephant man hideous, sweeter somehow than sugar alone, but now, NOW, it has crunchy bits in it as well. Hold a piece of nutty fruitcake in your hand and you might mistake it for a broken piece of concrete. I am reminded of taking a bite of sausage only to find my teeth striking then rolling around one of those mysterious hard chunks. Imagine that . . . got it . . . ok now add two tablespoons of sugar.
At one point someone tried to offset the terribly sweet taste with alcohol. The result did help in cutting down the sweetness and made it a tad more edible. But with so much alcohol in the cake the unintended result (or for some, very intended indeed) was that people were getting loaded off of their fruitcakes. Trust me, you don’t want to have to puke up fruitcake when you’re three sheets to the wind.
So the fruitcake’s not looking so good. Literally and figuratively. It looks terrible and it tastes so sweet it’s hardly edible. But it is still here. It is still around. Year after year fruitcakes are prepared, bought, and given as gifts. How could something so incredibly bad have lasted so long (eh hm, George W. Bush).
Part of the fruitcake’s prominence in pop culture relies on the fact that it IS so bad. The horrifying disgustingness itself is what propels the mystery of this cultural phenomenon. Fruitcake is still around for the same reason we slow down to see car wrecks or watch reality TV shows. It is just so bad you can’t help but be interested in it. Johnny Carson once posited that there is only one fruitcake in existence and that it has been passed around for decades. This of course is not true as there are still many bakeries that not only make fruitcakes, they specialize in them. Others suggest the longevity of the fruitcake in popular culture to be part of a generation gap in which aging grandparents give fruitcakes to their adult grandchildren who then just throw them out or re-gift them in essence seeing the fruitcake as a symbol of a bygone era.
The fruitcake has reached post-modernity. Given as a gift it can be seen as ironic. Popular culture poking fun at itself. Or, for those with less of a sense of humor, giving a fruitcake can be interpreted as something much more sinister. Something a kin to receiving a lump of coal in your stocking if you were a bad little boy or girl that year. Giving coal is no longer environmental friendly and for the average household it isn’t easy to come by. In the early 20th century coal was used as a fuel to heat homes so it was readily available to place under the tree or in a stocking for a bad little boy or girl. That time has passed. Coal is not used in our homes anymore. Tell a child they might receive a lump of coal for being bad and the prospect may intrigue them. Something has to take its place and the next best (worst) thing is the fruitcake. As we have already determined in many ways the fruitcake is very coal-like. At least, perhaps in appearance.
If you give a fruitcake to someone as a gift it could mean any number of things:
1) You phoned it in this Christmas putting zero thought into your choice of gifts
2) You don’t really like the recipient but a gift is obligatory as is the gratitude you’ll receive back
3) You don’t like the recipient and the fruitcake is a symbolic slap in the face
If you receive a fruitcake it means that the giver doesn’t like you, wants you to suffer, or doesn’t have the audacity to slap you in the face. You must have done something to really piss off this person and I suggest that you should probably just end it now before things get out of hand.
So now you have a fruitcake (or if you have given one, be prepared for retaliation next year). What do you do with it? You could eat it but we’ve pretty much covered why that is something you should probably avoid. You could just give it away to the mailman or someone else. The question is, do you want to keep receiving your mail? You must be very careful to whom you give a fruitcake. It’s the atomic bomb of the gift world. Don’t wield it without some responsibility.
You could through it away but that might prove to be an environmental hazard. The half life of one of these things has got to be an easy 50 years. Not to mention all the weighed down garbage trucks and sanitary workers with herniated discs from hauling around all those trashed fruitcakes.
So what to do with them? In Manitou Springs, Colorado they have an annual fruitcake toss where you can even rent one if you don’t have your own. You could build some sort of structure but good luck getting the safety inspector to approve such a monstrosity. You could bury it but even the slightest threat of a fruitcake tree is a chance no one should take.
I have my own modest proposal for what to do with these unwanted pastries. I say we should make them even more than their lump of coal counterparts and use them for fuel. Burn them, in the hearth, a bonfire, in burn barrels. The density will guarantee they’ll burn for hours (the ones with alcohol might go up quicker). You could save hundreds on your heating bill and your home will smell like fruit and cake for days. If the fruitcake is the cloud, free fuel is the silver lining.
Merry Christmas
Fruitcake as Lump of Coal: A Derridian Deconstruction of a Loathed Holiday Icon
by Michael G. Howell
Close your eyes for a moment and try to explain what comes to mind when I say Fruitcake. With any number of people with any other word; cat, for example, everyone will have a different mental image of a cat. But with fruitcake the results would appear to be almost universally similar. Similar and negative. It’s hard to imagine a more despised holiday pastry than the fruitcake. The dense, dark cake, heavy like a tumor, impregnated with impossibly bright and sweet chunks of candied fruit appears as appetizing as a loaf of steamed leather. Yet the fruitcake still remains firmly seated in our collective consciousness as a symbol of that most wonderful time of the year. But to be sure, receiving a fruitcake, while once upon a time thought of as a kind gesture, has transformed over several generations to the equivalent of receiving a lump of coal in the stocking. In other words; if you get a fruitcake this year you must have done something very, very wrong.
How could something seemingly so fantastic have drastically turned into the Grinch of pastries? On the one hand you have cake. Who doesn’t enjoy cake? Cake is delicious. Cake brings people together. Cake is used to celebrate just about every major and minor accomplishment a person could conceivably achieve. Cake is a cornerstone of any and all festivities in myriad social gatherings.
And fruit. Since the dawn of time (save for that one minor set back in a garden long ago involving a serpent and an apple) fruit has been one of the most important food items in every culture. And the sheer variety of shapes, sizes, colors, and tastes in the fruit world pretty much guarantees there is at least one fruit somewhere in the world growing on a tree or bush that is just right for you. It tastes great and it’s good for you. What better to offset the empty calories of cake than fruit?
Perhaps the fruitcake represents that old adage “too much of a good thing.” Cake is good, fruit is good so shouldn’t good + good = freaking awesome? But it doesn’t. At least not anymore. At one time, perhaps, fruitcake was beloved by all. Around the 16th century a popular way to transport fruits was by storing them in strong concentrations of sugar. This practice lead to the inevitable sweetening of the fruit and enhancing the color, as well. Eventually fruits not native to an area could be transported from far away lands leading to a virtual cornucopia of colors and flavors hitherto unknown in the civilized world (which at the time was western Europe). By the 19th century the fruitcake became a staple because, well, what else are you going to do with a bunch of candied dry fruit?
The result was a brick-like “food” with bits of fruit embedded inside. From the outside you might mistake it for a shoe box (though some traditional fruitcakes took on a more round, pound cake appearance). Usually the fruitcake in everyone’s mind is this impossibly heavy, possibly armored, dense, soul-sucking block that, in all probability, would withstand a nuclear holocaust. But before you go hoarding fruitcakes to build a bunker I should tell you that a fruitcake fort probably won’t withstand anything stronger than a 5 megaton detonation. And in all likelihood anything we get hit with will probably be at least 10 megatons.
It’s appearance should be your first clue that maybe something isn’t quite right with this so-called cake. I mean, really, cakes aren’t supposed to look like they’ve just been dug out of the ground. That might be why the British (and what greater culinary experts are there) started putting icing on the tops of their fruitcakes. Lipstick on a pig? A coat of paint on ancient ruins ain’t gonna make it the Taj Mahal. Icing on a fruitcake, while a noble endeavor, is merely a cosmetic change and merely attempts to hide the otherwise disturbing product. Upon closer inspection the subterfuge won’t last.
But certainly something that looks just so incredibly inedibley wrong must have some redeeming feature. What about taste? Surely it is a delicious tasty culinary phenom. I’m sorry to say, no. A slice of your average fruitcake will more than likely send you into a diabetic coma. The amount of sugar guarantees that a slice is nothing less than a tooth melting disaster. Some people have a sweet tooth and might be able to handle it. For some reason the Japanese seem to enjoy fruitcake. But if you’re like me you stopped trying to figure out the Japanese a long time ago. If you could somehow just have small bite-sized fruitcake nuggets (patent pending) then fruitcake might just be tolerable. But no. You have an entire loaf of this stuff taking up precious counter space in your kitchen. And you and it both know that it won’t move until the following year when you give it to someone who did you wrong.
Apart from icing there weren’t many more attempts to pretty up a fruitcake. It’s as if a council of cooks got together to head scratch over what to do about this food brick. They squirted some icing on it and called it a day. That was the ultimate fix, the best and only thing they could think of. So taste had to be addressed. Enter the 19th and 20th century southern United States.
The Southern half of the United States has some wonderful culinary traditions. I won’t get into them here since we’re talking about the opposite. But you’d figure that the South would find a way to rise (the fruitcake) again. Their solution to the tragically sweet taste: just add nuts. Ok, so now not only is it so dense that it has its own gravitational pull, elephant man hideous, sweeter somehow than sugar alone, but now, NOW, it has crunchy bits in it as well. Hold a piece of nutty fruitcake in your hand and you might mistake it for a broken piece of concrete. I am reminded of taking a bite of sausage only to find my teeth striking then rolling around one of those mysterious hard chunks. Imagine that . . . got it . . . ok now add two tablespoons of sugar.
At one point someone tried to offset the terribly sweet taste with alcohol. The result did help in cutting down the sweetness and made it a tad more edible. But with so much alcohol in the cake the unintended result (or for some, very intended indeed) was that people were getting loaded off of their fruitcakes. Trust me, you don’t want to have to puke up fruitcake when you’re three sheets to the wind.
So the fruitcake’s not looking so good. Literally and figuratively. It looks terrible and it tastes so sweet it’s hardly edible. But it is still here. It is still around. Year after year fruitcakes are prepared, bought, and given as gifts. How could something so incredibly bad have lasted so long (eh hm, George W. Bush).
Part of the fruitcake’s prominence in pop culture relies on the fact that it IS so bad. The horrifying disgustingness itself is what propels the mystery of this cultural phenomenon. Fruitcake is still around for the same reason we slow down to see car wrecks or watch reality TV shows. It is just so bad you can’t help but be interested in it. Johnny Carson once posited that there is only one fruitcake in existence and that it has been passed around for decades. This of course is not true as there are still many bakeries that not only make fruitcakes, they specialize in them. Others suggest the longevity of the fruitcake in popular culture to be part of a generation gap in which aging grandparents give fruitcakes to their adult grandchildren who then just throw them out or re-gift them in essence seeing the fruitcake as a symbol of a bygone era.
The fruitcake has reached post-modernity. Given as a gift it can be seen as ironic. Popular culture poking fun at itself. Or, for those with less of a sense of humor, giving a fruitcake can be interpreted as something much more sinister. Something a kin to receiving a lump of coal in your stocking if you were a bad little boy or girl that year. Giving coal is no longer environmental friendly and for the average household it isn’t easy to come by. In the early 20th century coal was used as a fuel to heat homes so it was readily available to place under the tree or in a stocking for a bad little boy or girl. That time has passed. Coal is not used in our homes anymore. Tell a child they might receive a lump of coal for being bad and the prospect may intrigue them. Something has to take its place and the next best (worst) thing is the fruitcake. As we have already determined in many ways the fruitcake is very coal-like. At least, perhaps in appearance.
If you give a fruitcake to someone as a gift it could mean any number of things:
1) You phoned it in this Christmas putting zero thought into your choice of gifts
2) You don’t really like the recipient but a gift is obligatory as is the gratitude you’ll receive back
3) You don’t like the recipient and the fruitcake is a symbolic slap in the face
If you receive a fruitcake it means that the giver doesn’t like you, wants you to suffer, or doesn’t have the audacity to slap you in the face. You must have done something to really piss off this person and I suggest that you should probably just end it now before things get out of hand.
So now you have a fruitcake (or if you have given one, be prepared for retaliation next year). What do you do with it? You could eat it but we’ve pretty much covered why that is something you should probably avoid. You could just give it away to the mailman or someone else. The question is, do you want to keep receiving your mail? You must be very careful to whom you give a fruitcake. It’s the atomic bomb of the gift world. Don’t wield it without some responsibility.
You could through it away but that might prove to be an environmental hazard. The half life of one of these things has got to be an easy 50 years. Not to mention all the weighed down garbage trucks and sanitary workers with herniated discs from hauling around all those trashed fruitcakes.
So what to do with them? In Manitou Springs, Colorado they have an annual fruitcake toss where you can even rent one if you don’t have your own. You could build some sort of structure but good luck getting the safety inspector to approve such a monstrosity. You could bury it but even the slightest threat of a fruitcake tree is a chance no one should take.
I have my own modest proposal for what to do with these unwanted pastries. I say we should make them even more than their lump of coal counterparts and use them for fuel. Burn them, in the hearth, a bonfire, in burn barrels. The density will guarantee they’ll burn for hours (the ones with alcohol might go up quicker). You could save hundreds on your heating bill and your home will smell like fruit and cake for days. If the fruitcake is the cloud, free fuel is the silver lining.
Merry Christmas
31 October 2009
Money and Meat go together like...?
Answer: subsidies and government.
"Why does a salad cost more than a Big Mac?"
Answer: The U.S. Farm Bill mandates government subsidies for key livestock feed and neatly ties to what school lunch programs feed children.
"The Farm Bill, a massive piece of federal legislation making its way through Congress, governs what children are fed in schools and what food assistance programs can distribute to recipients. The bill provides billions of dollars in subsidies, much of which goes to huge agribusinesses producing feed crops, such as corn and soy, which are then fed to animals. By funding these crops, the government supports the production of meat and dairy products—the same products that contribute to our growing rates of obesity and chronic disease. Fruit and vegetable farmers, on the other hand, receive less than 1 percent of government subsidies."
Why is America fat?
Answer: Farm states receiving subsidies have strong representation in congress which writes the bills and provides the subsidies for fattening foods we can afford to eat.
Why is obesity a problem for America?
Answer: Obesity correlates to health costs because obesity is not a healthy way to live. The discussions about health care reform largely depend on a congress ruled by people who get subsidies for feeding children and the rest of us cheaper, chronic disease producing diets.
If salads and fruit were cheaper to grow due to governement subsidies, resulting in less expensive healthy choices in stores and restaurants would people choose less expensive ingredients and meals?
"Why does a salad cost more than a Big Mac?"
Answer: The U.S. Farm Bill mandates government subsidies for key livestock feed and neatly ties to what school lunch programs feed children.
"The Farm Bill, a massive piece of federal legislation making its way through Congress, governs what children are fed in schools and what food assistance programs can distribute to recipients. The bill provides billions of dollars in subsidies, much of which goes to huge agribusinesses producing feed crops, such as corn and soy, which are then fed to animals. By funding these crops, the government supports the production of meat and dairy products—the same products that contribute to our growing rates of obesity and chronic disease. Fruit and vegetable farmers, on the other hand, receive less than 1 percent of government subsidies."
Why is America fat?
Answer: Farm states receiving subsidies have strong representation in congress which writes the bills and provides the subsidies for fattening foods we can afford to eat.
Why is obesity a problem for America?
Answer: Obesity correlates to health costs because obesity is not a healthy way to live. The discussions about health care reform largely depend on a congress ruled by people who get subsidies for feeding children and the rest of us cheaper, chronic disease producing diets.
If salads and fruit were cheaper to grow due to governement subsidies, resulting in less expensive healthy choices in stores and restaurants would people choose less expensive ingredients and meals?
18 October 2009
Beware of Earthlink
We have been trying to cancel an email account with Earthlink for several months. Each time we call they either say we do not have the right telephone number, password, or such information as is necessary to verify the account. The charge of nearly $5 a month for an email account that gmail, yahoo, and others offer for free requires greater imagination than I have to figure why I would want to pay Earthlink $5. It's a leftover account from the dark ages of internet when we chose Earthlink for our internet service. I won't go into why we still have the account, but let's just say someone in the household needed the contacts in the Earthlink email account.
On a live chat with Andrew at Earthlink, we were given a number to call. And when we did, the auto-voice did not offer any choice for canceling email account billings. Here is the live chat with Andrew at Earthlink. I'm recording it here because it is difficult to believe anyone could be less helpful.
Welcome to Earthlink LiveChat. Your chat session will begin shortly. Feel free to begin typing your question.
'Andrew A' says: Thank you for contacting EarthLink LiveChat, how may I help you today?
me: I want to terminate my earthlink e-mail account and my automatic charging to a credit card.
Andrew A: Hi, I will certainly help you with your query.
Andrew A: Just to confirm, do you want to cancel your entire account or just the payment mode?
me: i would like to cancel both
Andrew A: In this case you may have to call 1-888-EARTHLINK (1-888-327-8454) 24 hours a day, 7 days per week for cancellation and further help.
Andrew A: Is there anything else I may help you with today?
me: well since i have been trying to do this for months, can you at least stop the charges to my credit card?
Andrew A: We can stop that right away, but we are not the department to take care off, that is reason I provided you the above number.
me: so just to confirm - you can not help me stop payment to my credit card?
Andrew A: I apologize, I do not have the access to the resources in order to accomplish this task.
me: the phone number you have given me is only for technical help
Andrew A: The above number is for our Customer support as well.
me: well i can not get through to the proper assistance,
me: how else can i get my credit card charges cancelled?
Andrew A: Please click the below link.
Andrew A: http://support.earthlink.net/contact/phone/
Andrew A: You will see the same number for billing issues too.
me: that is where I started and the number you had me dial simply tells me to dial another number HELP PLEASE!!!
Andrew A: Like Explained earlier, we are not authorized to do any changes or cancel your account. We do not have the access to cancel it.
Andrew A: I do understand your concern, but we are not the right department.
me: the phone number does not seem to offer a choice for email disconnect.
me: and we have just tried 866.408.8305 and he says that he cannot do email disconnect.
me: when we do find the right number and person, can you tell me what information they will require to stop the account?
Andrew A: They will have to verify your account in order to close the account.
me: Who would we call to change the payment from our credit card to a home bill?
me: What will they need for verification?
Andrew A: The above customers support number is the total solution for your issue.
Andrew A: I kindly request you to contact them as you have reached an in-correct department.,
me: Actually, it is not. There is no selection number offered by the operator voice for cancelling email accounts.
me: The first question is are we existing earthlink customers. We do not have cable, dsl, or internet service with earthlink anylonger. But I have dialed twice. Once I answered yes, and the next time no. Neither time did the operator offer a choice for canceling email.
Andrew A: In this case I kindly request you to call on Monday.
me: Andrew, I know you are trying to help. But do you think there is anyone there with you who knows what number to dial on Monday or anyday who can cancel our email with earthlink?
me: Andrew, I believe you are trying to help-- But do you think there is anyone there with you who knows what number to dial on Monday or any day who can cancel our email with earthlink?
Andrew A: I assure you, Once you call the above number, you will get the desired help. As it is Sunday that could be the issue you are not able to get anyone.
me: By the way, I have copies this chat dialog and will place it on my blog and send it to the Earthlink hmf because no one will believe that I am having this much trouble cancelling an email account. Or wait....maybe they will believe me, but I'm posting it online anyway. And sending it to Earthlink, Andrew. You are not being helpful.
Andrew A: I aplogize, As explained earlier you have reach to a department which do not handle these queries.
Andrew A: Thank you for using EarthLink LiveChat. Should you need further assistance, please contact us again.
meister@earthlink.net: Thank you.
meister@earthlink.net: Goodbye
AFter an hour or so and several phone calls to various Earthlink service numbers we spoke to Michelle Richardson, quiet voice with an Indian English accent, who attempted to brush off the request because we did not have the right phone number, though we assured it has been the only bloody phone number we've ever had. Eventually, she was able to give us a confirmation number to track the record of actually canceling the Earthlink email account and our credit card should not be billed again.
We'll see!
On a live chat with Andrew at Earthlink, we were given a number to call. And when we did, the auto-voice did not offer any choice for canceling email account billings. Here is the live chat with Andrew at Earthlink. I'm recording it here because it is difficult to believe anyone could be less helpful.
Welcome to Earthlink LiveChat. Your chat session will begin shortly. Feel free to begin typing your question.
'Andrew A' says: Thank you for contacting EarthLink LiveChat, how may I help you today?
me: I want to terminate my earthlink e-mail account and my automatic charging to a credit card.
Andrew A: Hi, I will certainly help you with your query.
Andrew A: Just to confirm, do you want to cancel your entire account or just the payment mode?
me: i would like to cancel both
Andrew A: In this case you may have to call 1-888-EARTHLINK (1-888-327-8454) 24 hours a day, 7 days per week for cancellation and further help.
Andrew A: Is there anything else I may help you with today?
me: well since i have been trying to do this for months, can you at least stop the charges to my credit card?
Andrew A: We can stop that right away, but we are not the department to take care off, that is reason I provided you the above number.
me: so just to confirm - you can not help me stop payment to my credit card?
Andrew A: I apologize, I do not have the access to the resources in order to accomplish this task.
me: the phone number you have given me is only for technical help
Andrew A: The above number is for our Customer support as well.
me: well i can not get through to the proper assistance,
me: how else can i get my credit card charges cancelled?
Andrew A: Please click the below link.
Andrew A: http://support.earthlink.net/contact/phone/
Andrew A: You will see the same number for billing issues too.
me: that is where I started and the number you had me dial simply tells me to dial another number HELP PLEASE!!!
Andrew A: Like Explained earlier, we are not authorized to do any changes or cancel your account. We do not have the access to cancel it.
Andrew A: I do understand your concern, but we are not the right department.
me: the phone number does not seem to offer a choice for email disconnect.
me: and we have just tried 866.408.8305 and he says that he cannot do email disconnect.
me: when we do find the right number and person, can you tell me what information they will require to stop the account?
Andrew A: They will have to verify your account in order to close the account.
me: Who would we call to change the payment from our credit card to a home bill?
me: What will they need for verification?
Andrew A: The above customers support number is the total solution for your issue.
Andrew A: I kindly request you to contact them as you have reached an in-correct department.,
me: Actually, it is not. There is no selection number offered by the operator voice for cancelling email accounts.
me: The first question is are we existing earthlink customers. We do not have cable, dsl, or internet service with earthlink anylonger. But I have dialed twice. Once I answered yes, and the next time no. Neither time did the operator offer a choice for canceling email.
Andrew A: In this case I kindly request you to call on Monday.
me: Andrew, I know you are trying to help. But do you think there is anyone there with you who knows what number to dial on Monday or anyday who can cancel our email with earthlink?
me: Andrew, I believe you are trying to help-- But do you think there is anyone there with you who knows what number to dial on Monday or any day who can cancel our email with earthlink?
Andrew A: I assure you, Once you call the above number, you will get the desired help. As it is Sunday that could be the issue you are not able to get anyone.
me: By the way, I have copies this chat dialog and will place it on my blog and send it to the Earthlink hmf because no one will believe that I am having this much trouble cancelling an email account. Or wait....maybe they will believe me, but I'm posting it online anyway. And sending it to Earthlink, Andrew. You are not being helpful.
Andrew A: I aplogize, As explained earlier you have reach to a department which do not handle these queries.
Andrew A: Thank you for using EarthLink LiveChat. Should you need further assistance, please contact us again.
meister@earthlink.net: Thank you.
meister@earthlink.net: Goodbye
AFter an hour or so and several phone calls to various Earthlink service numbers we spoke to Michelle Richardson, quiet voice with an Indian English accent, who attempted to brush off the request because we did not have the right phone number, though we assured it has been the only bloody phone number we've ever had. Eventually, she was able to give us a confirmation number to track the record of actually canceling the Earthlink email account and our credit card should not be billed again.
We'll see!
20 September 2009
Meet the Joeys
Red Wiggler Worms may be the best pets ever!
When my daughter started her "worm composting" several years ago, I have to admit that I grimaced. My familiarity with worms at that point began and ended with the garden variety, sometimes hooked onto the end of a fishing line. One day the worm farming daughter moved away and left behind the large black worm composting bin.
Eventually, overwhelmed with how much kitchen waste we throw away in the garbage each day, I thought, Why not compost this waste? I looked into the traditional compost bins and decided to look for one that rotates or tumbles in one container.
And then I remembered the worm bin sitting empty in the garage.
The biggest hurdle to the worm compost process is finding the Red Wigglers. I searched the internet for sources of Red Wigglers in our city or near by. Nothing in my neck of the woods. I continued to look at the tumblers and talk about composting with friends. Then, quite by accident I saw them. In a booth at craft fair a woman had a display of her "home-made" plywood worm bin with directions and WORMS.
How much for the Red Wigglers? I asked her with more enthusiasm than she'd ever witnessed in her booth. She told me she happened to have a bucket of 1,000 Red Wigglers, and I bought them. We brought them home and tucked them gently into the black worm bin per internet instructions. They eat all our kitchen vegetable waste, coffee grounds, egg shells, and shredded newspapers.
We call them the Joeys. Naming 1,000 worms seemed impossible, so I called them Joey. If anyone asks, and people do, I recite a litany of Joey names: Mary Jo, Billy Jo, Jonny Jo, Kelley Jo, Peppy Jo, Slowy Jo, you get the idea. They appear after three weeks or so to be pretty happy. It's relatively free of odors and the Joeys live in the kitchen or laundry room most days. This week I opened the lid to check on the Joeys and found ten of them headed for the lid. In fact, some of them crawled all the way to the lid. Probably this means they want something more than what they've found in the bin. I added more garbage and spritzed a little water on the newspaper cover. Fewer and fewer of them climb to the top now.
I have no photos of our worm composting bin, but here is a website that gives great directions with photos.
One day my daughter will come to claim the worm bin and the Joeys will go to live with her. I will miss them. I think I'll buy a tumbler next time.
When my daughter started her "worm composting" several years ago, I have to admit that I grimaced. My familiarity with worms at that point began and ended with the garden variety, sometimes hooked onto the end of a fishing line. One day the worm farming daughter moved away and left behind the large black worm composting bin.
Eventually, overwhelmed with how much kitchen waste we throw away in the garbage each day, I thought, Why not compost this waste? I looked into the traditional compost bins and decided to look for one that rotates or tumbles in one container.
And then I remembered the worm bin sitting empty in the garage.
The biggest hurdle to the worm compost process is finding the Red Wigglers. I searched the internet for sources of Red Wigglers in our city or near by. Nothing in my neck of the woods. I continued to look at the tumblers and talk about composting with friends. Then, quite by accident I saw them. In a booth at craft fair a woman had a display of her "home-made" plywood worm bin with directions and WORMS.
How much for the Red Wigglers? I asked her with more enthusiasm than she'd ever witnessed in her booth. She told me she happened to have a bucket of 1,000 Red Wigglers, and I bought them. We brought them home and tucked them gently into the black worm bin per internet instructions. They eat all our kitchen vegetable waste, coffee grounds, egg shells, and shredded newspapers.
We call them the Joeys. Naming 1,000 worms seemed impossible, so I called them Joey. If anyone asks, and people do, I recite a litany of Joey names: Mary Jo, Billy Jo, Jonny Jo, Kelley Jo, Peppy Jo, Slowy Jo, you get the idea. They appear after three weeks or so to be pretty happy. It's relatively free of odors and the Joeys live in the kitchen or laundry room most days. This week I opened the lid to check on the Joeys and found ten of them headed for the lid. In fact, some of them crawled all the way to the lid. Probably this means they want something more than what they've found in the bin. I added more garbage and spritzed a little water on the newspaper cover. Fewer and fewer of them climb to the top now.
I have no photos of our worm composting bin, but here is a website that gives great directions with photos.
One day my daughter will come to claim the worm bin and the Joeys will go to live with her. I will miss them. I think I'll buy a tumbler next time.
30 August 2009
On Being Five
On August 19, Jon stayed home from pre-school with Mommy.
They ate breakfast and played with trains. Late in the morning Jon asked Mommy, "When am I going to be five?"
"You are five today; it's your birthday," Mommy reminded him.
"Today! Today I am five?"
"Yup."
"But when did I turn five?"
"Today. It's your birthday and you are five now."
"No, but when. Right now?"
"I guess," she paused and wondered where he was going with this line of questioning. "I guess you turned five this morning. So, you are five now."
"Right now I'm five."
"Yes, now you are five-years-old."
He thought about it. And in quiet, pensive voice he wondered aloud, "So, this is how it feels to be five."
The next day, Jon woke up, got out of bed, dressed, and asked Mommy, "Am I six today?"
01 August 2009
July in Ireland
Ten days in Ireland began in New Grange. Amazing pre-pyramid tombs in Ireland. Restoration of the tombs allows visitors to enter the ancient burial mounds and experience the ingenuity of an ancient culture. Giant's Causeway on Ireland's northern coast can hardly be believed. The volcanic formation of geometrically shaped columns of basalt provide a natural staircase for exploring this wonder of Mother Nature. The last photo was taken of the "Gap" on the northern Irish penninsula of Inishowen, north of Buncrana.
04 May 2009
Tinker Toy Radio Show
What do you build with Tinker Toys?
Jon and I arrived at the table filled with TT pieces. He brought his 4-yr-old enthusiasm for random pieces in bright colors. I brought my 50-something enthusiasm for Public Radio. Spotting a wheel, Jon said, "We can make it go!"
I built a tower, inserted a flat plastic disc through a horizontal, red TT stick and said, "On today's show, ladies and gentleman, we'll be talking to Jon Cxxxxx Hxxxxx, whose just returned from an adventure with trains. Good morning JON, what can you tell us?"
"Yeah, I fell off a bench in Kirkwood watching trains."
This interview played out over the course of 45 minutes. The guest on the show waxed eloquently about his many adventures for all things pre-school promises. The story of falling off the bench, complete with the list of injuries led to his sage advise for others who might be game to try standing on a bench and jumping off after the train pulls away. "Don't do it."
My husband arrived late into the broadcast and asked, "Ooooh, what's that?"
"We'ew havin' a wadio sow."
"A radio show! I wonder who thought of that," he said a little too sarcastically, I thought. "I've been building with Tinker Toys for over 50 years and I never once thought of building a radio." And then the engineer sat down and became caller number 7 with a question about trains for the guest on the show.
Jon and I arrived at the table filled with TT pieces. He brought his 4-yr-old enthusiasm for random pieces in bright colors. I brought my 50-something enthusiasm for Public Radio. Spotting a wheel, Jon said, "We can make it go!"
I built a tower, inserted a flat plastic disc through a horizontal, red TT stick and said, "On today's show, ladies and gentleman, we'll be talking to Jon Cxxxxx Hxxxxx, whose just returned from an adventure with trains. Good morning JON, what can you tell us?"
"Yeah, I fell off a bench in Kirkwood watching trains."
This interview played out over the course of 45 minutes. The guest on the show waxed eloquently about his many adventures for all things pre-school promises. The story of falling off the bench, complete with the list of injuries led to his sage advise for others who might be game to try standing on a bench and jumping off after the train pulls away. "Don't do it."
My husband arrived late into the broadcast and asked, "Ooooh, what's that?"
"We'ew havin' a wadio sow."
"A radio show! I wonder who thought of that," he said a little too sarcastically, I thought. "I've been building with Tinker Toys for over 50 years and I never once thought of building a radio." And then the engineer sat down and became caller number 7 with a question about trains for the guest on the show.
21 April 2009
Bishop Robert Carlson, meet me in St. Louis, Louis!!
The faithful of Saginaw and Sioux City welcomed Bishop Carlson to his last appointments. As St.Louis prepares to roll out the red carpet for the new Archbishop, some may wonder what the expectations of his former dioceses were and how he lived up to them.
For a look back:
The Saginaw Blessing
Guidance in Voting
and again here
"The decisive leadership of Bishop Robert Carlson is causing a vocation surge in the Diocese of Saginaw, Michigan. Bishop Carlson led the vocation-rich Diocese of Sioux Falls from 1995 to 2004 before his transfer to the vocation-poor Diocese of Saginaw, which ranked 150th in the nation early last year. In his February 2005 installation homily, he announced: I am Bishop Robert J. Carlson, and I come to you as an apostolic missionary and a servant of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I consecrate my ministry among you to the intercession and care of the Blessed Virgin Mary . . . I promise as your bishop to teach only authentic Catholic doctrine . . . And, as of today, I am the vocation director for the Diocese of Saginaw, and I invite the men of this diocese, young and old, who have the necessary gifts and state in life, to seriously ask God if they have a vocation to the diocesan priesthood."
In Sioux Falls, the bishop also developed a reputation for being a good listener. The Detroit Free Press reported that in one year he had hosted 2,000 people for coffee, cake or dinner.
Ordains Grandfather
Lifestyle Choices and More
"it became public over the weekend that the incoming bishop of Saginaw, Bob Carlson -- an appointment I previously referred to as the "American Chur" -- had decided on a
$330,000 home before he even takes possession of the diocese. (For those in need of briefing, Carlson's predecessor, Ken Untener, spent every month or so in a different rectory in the diocese, eliminating the need for a central bishop's residence.)
How Happy is Saginaw - survey
If you have links to add, place them in your comment and I'll load them here.
For a look back:
The Saginaw Blessing
Guidance in Voting
and again here
"The decisive leadership of Bishop Robert Carlson is causing a vocation surge in the Diocese of Saginaw, Michigan. Bishop Carlson led the vocation-rich Diocese of Sioux Falls from 1995 to 2004 before his transfer to the vocation-poor Diocese of Saginaw, which ranked 150th in the nation early last year. In his February 2005 installation homily, he announced: I am Bishop Robert J. Carlson, and I come to you as an apostolic missionary and a servant of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I consecrate my ministry among you to the intercession and care of the Blessed Virgin Mary . . . I promise as your bishop to teach only authentic Catholic doctrine . . . And, as of today, I am the vocation director for the Diocese of Saginaw, and I invite the men of this diocese, young and old, who have the necessary gifts and state in life, to seriously ask God if they have a vocation to the diocesan priesthood."
In Sioux Falls, the bishop also developed a reputation for being a good listener. The Detroit Free Press reported that in one year he had hosted 2,000 people for coffee, cake or dinner.
Ordains Grandfather
Lifestyle Choices and More
"it became public over the weekend that the incoming bishop of Saginaw, Bob Carlson -- an appointment I previously referred to as the "American Chur" -- had decided on a
$330,000 home before he even takes possession of the diocese. (For those in need of briefing, Carlson's predecessor, Ken Untener, spent every month or so in a different rectory in the diocese, eliminating the need for a central bishop's residence.)
How Happy is Saginaw - survey
If you have links to add, place them in your comment and I'll load them here.
24 March 2009
Intergalactic Deb Day
Today is the first Intergalactic Deb Day ever.
I had a latte and a warm raspberry with white chocolate scone to celebrate.
One of my coworkers proclaimed today as Intergalactic Deb Day. That's all it takes. Holidays start that way, don't they?
What will tomorrow be?
I had a latte and a warm raspberry with white chocolate scone to celebrate.
One of my coworkers proclaimed today as Intergalactic Deb Day. That's all it takes. Holidays start that way, don't they?
What will tomorrow be?
Diet Experts
Someone I know explained to me today about the fine art of dieting. "It's all about calories," she said. If you want to know how to lose weight, according to her, ask a fat person. Heaven knows they've tried everything and yo yo up and down.
She explained that "studies" at one time showed that eating fiber was the way to lose weight. Everyone ate fiber. Didn't matter how much fiber. They bloated and corked themselves up with fiber, she said. If they'd asked her, she could have told them what it would happen, but the studies carried a lot of weight. Fat people carry a lot of weight, probably more than studies. We should ask fat people how to lose weight, fat people like her. And she would let us know that it is all about calories.
Doesn't matter if it's a 500 calorie lunch containing only Fritos. Those 500 calories will not make you fat, if that's all you eat. Five-hundred calories is five-hundred calories. She learned this from experience, back in her college days when she ate 500 calories of Fritos and a Three Musketeer bar everyday for lunch. She was thin. Not healthy, but thin.
Now studies tell us that it's all about calories. Next time ask a fat person, and you'll be ahead of the game.
She explained that "studies" at one time showed that eating fiber was the way to lose weight. Everyone ate fiber. Didn't matter how much fiber. They bloated and corked themselves up with fiber, she said. If they'd asked her, she could have told them what it would happen, but the studies carried a lot of weight. Fat people carry a lot of weight, probably more than studies. We should ask fat people how to lose weight, fat people like her. And she would let us know that it is all about calories.
Doesn't matter if it's a 500 calorie lunch containing only Fritos. Those 500 calories will not make you fat, if that's all you eat. Five-hundred calories is five-hundred calories. She learned this from experience, back in her college days when she ate 500 calories of Fritos and a Three Musketeer bar everyday for lunch. She was thin. Not healthy, but thin.
Now studies tell us that it's all about calories. Next time ask a fat person, and you'll be ahead of the game.
12 March 2009
Peeking into the Single Life-style
I'm married. Happily. But I have friends who are single and lookin'. The hunt for the date life is a distant memory for me, honestly. So, wasn't I intrigued with a recent evening spent with a single, attractive girlfriend who introduced me to match.com.
Most nights, I spend with a book, a magazine, making yogurt, talkin' with the princely spouse, or netflixing. And I spend an inordinate amount of time on my realtor's site hunting for houses. The listings are endless and photos help a great deal in deciding which houses to see in person.
One night this week, keep this under your hat, I looked at petmatch.com or some site with a similar name. You put in the criteria you want, like dog or cat, f or m, big or small, etc., and it gives you photos and personality traits of potential pets that could work for you.
Looking for a date is not much different. I had a blast looking at the photos of these gentlemen who, quite frankly, should not put their photos online if they want to get a date. Granted, some are decent sorts. Though not cover-dudes, some have charming descriptions, and I'd be thinking --if I was lookin'-- that someone who can take the time to write about himself with a touch of humor and dash of humility may be worth meeting at the pub one night.
My girlfriend has done exactly that. And she pointed these fellas out to me. I had to agree, they were good choices. But they didn't last long. Too quiet, too tall, too old, too young, too married...yup, that's problem.
And then there's the moment when you actually recognize one of the eligible chaps. Someone you went to school with, someone you work with, the brother of someone you know--and the someone's a priest. Add wine, olives, and cheese to this evening and it beats looking for a house. Or a puppy.
Most nights, I spend with a book, a magazine, making yogurt, talkin' with the princely spouse, or netflixing. And I spend an inordinate amount of time on my realtor's site hunting for houses. The listings are endless and photos help a great deal in deciding which houses to see in person.
One night this week, keep this under your hat, I looked at petmatch.com or some site with a similar name. You put in the criteria you want, like dog or cat, f or m, big or small, etc., and it gives you photos and personality traits of potential pets that could work for you.
Looking for a date is not much different. I had a blast looking at the photos of these gentlemen who, quite frankly, should not put their photos online if they want to get a date. Granted, some are decent sorts. Though not cover-dudes, some have charming descriptions, and I'd be thinking --if I was lookin'-- that someone who can take the time to write about himself with a touch of humor and dash of humility may be worth meeting at the pub one night.
My girlfriend has done exactly that. And she pointed these fellas out to me. I had to agree, they were good choices. But they didn't last long. Too quiet, too tall, too old, too young, too married...yup, that's problem.
And then there's the moment when you actually recognize one of the eligible chaps. Someone you went to school with, someone you work with, the brother of someone you know--and the someone's a priest. Add wine, olives, and cheese to this evening and it beats looking for a house. Or a puppy.
Doodling all over
The post on this blog that gets the most hits is the one on doodling.
NPR has a story on doodling with some interesting insight.
I like to doodle. I'm a squiggle line doodler. Nothing frame worthy. I go over the letters in my notes, darkening and outlining them. Sometimes I sketch the person speaking. If the speaker catches me staring and drawing, and staring and drawing, it's a little uncomfortable. Usually the sketch is not flattering.
Now that I know, if NPR is to be believed, that doodling helps the mind concentrate on the speaker, I will doodle more freely.
Text messaging, however, during meetings or conversations leads to precisely zero comprehesion of what is being spoken in the room.
NPR has a story on doodling with some interesting insight.
I like to doodle. I'm a squiggle line doodler. Nothing frame worthy. I go over the letters in my notes, darkening and outlining them. Sometimes I sketch the person speaking. If the speaker catches me staring and drawing, and staring and drawing, it's a little uncomfortable. Usually the sketch is not flattering.
Now that I know, if NPR is to be believed, that doodling helps the mind concentrate on the speaker, I will doodle more freely.
Text messaging, however, during meetings or conversations leads to precisely zero comprehesion of what is being spoken in the room.
11 January 2009
Those Charities Are Calling
Dinnertime, peaceful evenings, and just when I thought it safe to sit down in front of the television--the phone rings. Caller ID tells me its a charity. Sometimes they hide behind "unknown" caller. I always know who it is.
Fireman's Fund, Policeman's Fund [never mind the lack of PC, you know who I mean], Special Olympics, Democrats, Republicans, Kidney Foundation, Cancer Society, the calls keep coming. How to decide who to give to? Give them each a few dollars and they'll call in a month. One wants to be charitable, but at the same time, one hopes to offer money to the the group that will spend it well.
Frankly, I find the calls annoying. When I say, "Please send me something I can look over. And if I like what you are doing, I'll be happy to make a donation." The reply is always something to the effect that they'd like to send something but budget demands they ONLY send something if the prospective donor has agreed to make a donation. At this point, I could say, fine, $5, send it. And when it arrives, I could trash it or send $5.
One day, I realized that the Rockefeller Fnd., the Rasko Fnd., the Gates Fnd., and the A-Busch Fnd. among others have a process. Why shouldn't I have a process?
Now I tell the charity caller, "My family meets once a year to review all proposals for charitable giving. Please send me your information, I will present it to our Family Invitational Non-necessary Expense board (FINE). We invite you to submit your plan for taking care of your part of the world, and we will consider a donation from our earned income that we have budgeted for non-essentials this year." To which... they argue and complain and whine and say they want to know NOW. I keep calm and speak slowly and repeat the same invitation. Usually, they say thank you and hang up. The Policmen's Fund just hangs up. The caller NEVER says thank you.
These funds have hired folks who are gifted with, let's call it, persuasive gab. Yak yak yak, he says, crime rising, drug dealers on the street, protect your family, he says. he tries to make me very afraid. Persuasion by fear. A common tactic, often heard in church's and political rallies. I wholeheartedly agree with him and invite him to submit the proposal to FINE. He hangs up.
None of them have ever agree to send me anything to submit. They want money. They don't want to prove to me that the money will be spent on those who need help. Who's paying the persuasive gab caller, by the way? Why do people give them money when they call? That's why they keep interrupting our quiet dinners. Just like the SPAMMERS who use the same rational because some people, even just a few, buy Viagra and who knows what else in response to the email spam.
If you want to be as generous as Bill Gates, you need to give to charities who are willing to request money respecfully, as they do when they submit to the Gates Fnd, or any other group. Like my family fund. And we will meet and we will donate. We did this year, and we even had fun reviewing the mailed requests.
Fireman's Fund, Policeman's Fund [never mind the lack of PC, you know who I mean], Special Olympics, Democrats, Republicans, Kidney Foundation, Cancer Society, the calls keep coming. How to decide who to give to? Give them each a few dollars and they'll call in a month. One wants to be charitable, but at the same time, one hopes to offer money to the the group that will spend it well.
Frankly, I find the calls annoying. When I say, "Please send me something I can look over. And if I like what you are doing, I'll be happy to make a donation." The reply is always something to the effect that they'd like to send something but budget demands they ONLY send something if the prospective donor has agreed to make a donation. At this point, I could say, fine, $5, send it. And when it arrives, I could trash it or send $5.
One day, I realized that the Rockefeller Fnd., the Rasko Fnd., the Gates Fnd., and the A-Busch Fnd. among others have a process. Why shouldn't I have a process?
Now I tell the charity caller, "My family meets once a year to review all proposals for charitable giving. Please send me your information, I will present it to our Family Invitational Non-necessary Expense board (FINE). We invite you to submit your plan for taking care of your part of the world, and we will consider a donation from our earned income that we have budgeted for non-essentials this year." To which... they argue and complain and whine and say they want to know NOW. I keep calm and speak slowly and repeat the same invitation. Usually, they say thank you and hang up. The Policmen's Fund just hangs up. The caller NEVER says thank you.
These funds have hired folks who are gifted with, let's call it, persuasive gab. Yak yak yak, he says, crime rising, drug dealers on the street, protect your family, he says. he tries to make me very afraid. Persuasion by fear. A common tactic, often heard in church's and political rallies. I wholeheartedly agree with him and invite him to submit the proposal to FINE. He hangs up.
None of them have ever agree to send me anything to submit. They want money. They don't want to prove to me that the money will be spent on those who need help. Who's paying the persuasive gab caller, by the way? Why do people give them money when they call? That's why they keep interrupting our quiet dinners. Just like the SPAMMERS who use the same rational because some people, even just a few, buy Viagra and who knows what else in response to the email spam.
If you want to be as generous as Bill Gates, you need to give to charities who are willing to request money respecfully, as they do when they submit to the Gates Fnd, or any other group. Like my family fund. And we will meet and we will donate. We did this year, and we even had fun reviewing the mailed requests.
01 January 2009
Another new year
Several times today I practiced in my head saying two-thousand and nine. 2009. I imagined two-thousand years ago when they might have practiced saying the year "nine." Then, I remembered they didn't ever practice saying the year NINE. The year hadn't been "invented," yet. Instead of the year 9, they named the whole year after the magistrate with all the power. In these terms, we'd be leaving the year of W and entering the year of Obama. Not until the year 46 CE did anyone pay attention to a numerical designation of the year. And suddenly it was 46, no 45 or 44?
I would be practicing in my head saying The Year of Obama. That would be cumbersome to write on checks as the date. Rather than 09 (oh-nine), I like to write just 9. Why 09 anyway? It won't be 010 or 011. We could shorten it to "O" as in Obama. Jan. 2, Oh--for "O." Or B.O. I think I'll stick to 9.
I would be practicing in my head saying The Year of Obama. That would be cumbersome to write on checks as the date. Rather than 09 (oh-nine), I like to write just 9. Why 09 anyway? It won't be 010 or 011. We could shorten it to "O" as in Obama. Jan. 2, Oh--for "O." Or B.O. I think I'll stick to 9.
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