Monthly Archives: August 2012

Phone Trash

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 Aging & Attitude

   Remember being a nine-year old and selecting a number from the telephone book; dialing the number and addressing the party by name, Mr. or Mrs. Smith, to ask; “Is your refrigerator running?” When the reply was “Yes,” I delivered the gem of a retort, “Well, you better go catch it,” and hung up the phone doubled over in laughter with a room full of my closest friends.

That was summer fun in 1957. That and playing Gin Rummy under a weeping willow tree or collecting discarded cigarette butts from the gutter to smoke after straightening them out.

Phone trash became more sophisticated in 1962. We lived in Hensonville, N.Y. and had a party line. Our number was two digit, eight -seven; an operator much like Lillian Tomlin on Laugh-In connected you to the party to whom you spoke. A telephone hullabaloo erupted when my boyfriend, Ronnie King, wrote my brother’s girlfriend, Lillian St. Claire, a hand written letter, saying he would give her a ring when he came upstate for the summer. He stuffed the letter in an envelope and glued a three-cent stamp in the right hand corner. Ron meant he would call her on the telephone but Lillian, a drama queen, used the line out of context to set the Windham Ashland Jewett High School reeling and all party lines smoking.

Today phone trash is real a dilemma I experienced when all four phones in our home displayed the prompt, still connecting. Since the batteries had recently been replaced, I gave it time, and waited until 10:30 PM to contact the Bright House customer service line.  A recorded message said, “Most problems can be corrected by pushing the reset button on the “Box.”  Crawling under a desk equipped with a flashlight and cake tester to reset did not work, and consequently used my cell telephone to speak with a live person.

An hour conversation determined an on-site visit is needed and someone would be out between three and five pm the next day. I had inadvertently reset the router box and now did not have wireless internet service as well. It is now after midnight.

Promptly at three PM, the doorbell rang and to make a long story short, after testing all equipment the technician determined I needed new phones. It was likely the power pack was faulty and more unlikely I would be able to buy one. I had to go shopping.

A day and a half later, we had land line service. I am still working on the internet.

Here is the dilemma, what to do with the four telephones, four new batteries, one answering device, three phone docks and one power pack that might possible work.

  • Donate to  Goodwill
  • Sell on Craigslist
  • Convince my neighbor she needs them for her grandkids to play house.
  • Save the four batteries, (although they do not fit my new phones someone I know might have phones they do).
  • Throw everything in the garbage and pray Zero Waste blogger, Jen, does not haunt my dreams.
  • None of the above and have a suggestion to leave in comment box                                                                                                                                                                                   ….just saying

Am I Politically Stupid?

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 Aging & Attitude

“Hardball” with Chris Matthews is on the television as I join Mr. Wonderful on the couch to snuggle.  The urgent tone in Matthew’s voice compels me to listen. A heated discussion about Mitt Romney’s selection of Paul Ryan as a VP running mate is taking place, analyst predict Ryan’s budget cuts will intensify the political fight over Medicare.

By commercial time I feel stupid, have difficulty following the ping-pong conversation and question what I can follow, as not making sense.

What fight over Medicare? Every republican in the House and Senate, including Paul Ryan signed into law Obama’s cuts to Medicare Providers (insurance companies, hospitals, nursing homes and drug companies).

Oops, right the 2012 budget was never passed on July 31st, a continuing resolution was approved.

“Oh wait, wait, don’t tell me,” Romney says he will not sign the bill into effect if elected.

After the break I turn up the volume and lean in to concentrate.

Chris Matthews introduces Ezra Klein,a political columnist for the Washington Post, and David Leonhardt, Washington bureau chief of New York Times, to clarify the politics of scaring people especial baby boomers.

Matthew insists Leonhardt delineate Obama, Romney and Ryan on Medicare for viewers.

Delineate sounds dangerous and I am nervous but Leonhardt delivers the difference clearly, with a smile. It is simple without all the political double talk.

  • Obama keeps a single payer government system with cuts to provider management and an emphasis on quality care in the future.
  • Paul Ryan voted yes for all of Obama’s cuts (“only because Obama did first”) but in ten years wants to move to a voucher system, aka, premium support e.g. a check sent to Mr/Ms Senior Citizen to shop around for a provider.
  • Romney wants the voucher system in ten years, but not the cuts in the 2013 Budget/ resolution deal, he will veto when brought to a vote in March 2013 if elected. (Republicans are foxy.)

Ezra Klein confirms the points and reiterates that Obama makes modest changes, the voucher plan is radical; and all three politicians predict the same path of growth in Medicare but look for savings in very different ways for the entitlement program.

The term entitlement blurs my mind and triggers thoughts of stupidity.  I know I’m entitled to Social Security and Medicare benefits because for the past fifty years I and my employer have contributed to the fund. We had a deal; give Uncle Sam part of your pay weekly and the money will be returned for retirement and medical coverage.

Why do I feel caught with my hand in the cookie jar?

Wait, wait don’t tell me, I’ll get my money back but what is left will not cover the costs of Medicare so  cuts are mandatory.

Let me get my pea size brain around this with an analogy I can relate to.

I put aside $100 to buy a dress, when I go to buy the dress it costs $115. There is  only $55 in the kitty because my sister Judy borrowed money to buy designer shoes, consequently, the dress costs too much. If Judy returns the designer shoes the dress becomes affordable.

Wait, wait don’t tell me, Judy has already worn the shoes so I have to shop around for a much cheaper dress (something under $55); what retires, now fifty-five will do in ten years according to a voucher plan.

Am I stupid or are people fifty-five and younger being thrown under a bus?                                                                                                     …just asking

High Definition

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Aging & Attitude

My husband can never die. One of the many, many reasons is his ability to surf the TV channel guide. My television viewing is dependent on him. Just when I’ve remembered that Lifetime HD is 1137, it’s not. The local newspaper does not list High Definition channels but I have a dated program locator (aka guide), with several notations about changes, although not enough to entice me off the couch, into the study, and rifling through a file cabinet.

He’s still alive, sitting in his chair so I double-check, “Lifetime is 1124, right?”

“No, it’s number 1237. All HD channels have been regrouped in the 1200 range.”

“How would I know that?”

“It was in the newspaper, remember I told you.”

“I….Forgot.”

“Bright House also mailed a flyer about Channel Lineup.”

“That was a TV Guide?”

He is a sweet man. Surely, I can figure Television viewing for myself.

Sunday I study the News Journal television guide, and with a highlighter make note of the day and time of my favorite programs and copy the information in a daily calendar. It does not work.

The shows I like are on at 9PM and later, The Closer, Mad Men, Men of a Certain Age, that lawyer show with Cathy Bates, not Andy or Jackie, you know, Harry’s Law. Typically that’s about the time we switch. I swap whatever I am doing for TV and he retires to the bedroom, saying, “Don’t you want to see such and such?”

“Yes! Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Wonderful.”

In the morning I phone Bright House and after pushing several prompts hear a voice say, “I’m Murray your customer service representative, how can I exceed your expectations?”

Now we are talking.

                                                              ….just saying

Repost “Water Bagging”

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Aging & Attitude

 What is Water Bagging? Water Bagging is a newly coined phrased (by me) referring to an experience that can occur in public bathrooms. Water Bagging has a snappy ring, sounds like water boarding minus genuine torture. The similarity, other than the obvious H2O, is the incident left me feeling victimized and asking, “What can be done legally?”

My mission was to exchange an ink cartridge that went dry printing a few Sudoku grids.

The customer service person at the local super store said, “Without a receipt or the packaging, I can only give you ink.”

“That’s fine.” I said. Did she think I wanted money?

“Go get a new one; you don’t have to wait in line again when you come back.”

Great, I hike to technology, grab a new HP cartridge and a second one, just in case, and skip line.  She checks me out with a reminder to save the receipt and off I go. Life is good.

I  see a restroom, do not ‘really’ have to go, but slip inside. All the stalls are in use. The handicap stall frees-up first, no handicap people are in line, and I hurry in.

Thanks to an ABC story, “Your Purse Could be Making You Sick” about pseudopodia, Staphylococcus aureus, ecoli and salmonella invading our homes due to women putting handbags on the floor, I look to hang my bag on the back of the door. The hook is missing. My handbag is small with two handles and closes with a snap, but not snapped. I dump my bag on the edge of the sink and start to undo my slacks.  The bag slumps into the sink, no big deal, until with my pants down and a plastic grocery bag on my wrist notice that like Niagara Falls, water is pouring into my handbag. Tripping, I grab the handbag out of the sink and begin tossing the contents into the plastic bag strangling my wrist. Once the handbag is empty, I pour mega amounts of water out, puddle walk to the toilet, sit with the bags on my lap, and pee, studying my wet stuff.

The ink from the receipt is bleeding and threatens to blotch up several items.

The automated paper towel dispenser is just beyond my reach, wiggling closer (my pants are still down) I manage to activate the release of brown paper by flapping my arms. I wipe things dry while standing.  A couple of deep knee bends later my pants are secured and nothing has touched the floor.

Leaving, I stop to use a noisy hand dryer hoping to preserve the needed HP ink cartridge receipt, conflicted about searching my handbag for ear plugs to prevent loss of hearing from these mother of devices.

Does Water Bagging happen to anyone else? What are the numbers?

Legislation is needed, a grass-roots movement, Women United Against Automatic Flush Toilets, Soap and Paper Towel on Demand Dispensers, and Hot & Cold Water Request Valves That Only Work When You Do Not Want Them To.

We could start a protest similar to Occupy Wall Street, but still pay taxes, babysit grandchildren and sleep in beds.                                                                                                   ….Just Saying.