It’s another hot and humid summer night in beautiful Upstate N.Y. I can’t seem to remember the last time it was so hot for so long around here. Of course, we’re waiting until fall to buy the central air conditioning for the house (Caution! Saving Money currently in progress!), so next summer it’ll be damp and cool I’m sure.
I think Tom has the right idea – lie on your back, paws in the air, fur fluffed and everything hanging out in front of the fan. I think I’ll try the same.
I’ve been occupying my thoughts for the past 18 hours or so by cooking up a clever little plan for the end of this week. I’d love to share the details, but I can’t at the moment, because the pieces haven’t fallen together, but when this all comes to fruition I’m sure all parties involved will be just giddy.
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Even though we were just on vacation a month ago, I’m already primed to hit the road again. Earl is out of town this week, he’s in fabulous Indianapolis and won’t be back until Friday night. We’ve already made plans to visit friends in Buffalo this weekend, so there will be some mileage and stretching of the legs there.
Tonight I’m having dinner with an online friend. We’ve chatted via e-mail back and forth for the past year or so and finally found time to actually meet face to face. It’s the second time I’ve actively went out and met an online friend in the past couple of months. I hope I don’t come across as the clod I fear myself to be. I was hesitant to go with Earl out of town, but he told me to stop moping around the house just because he’s gone on business and to get out and do something. So I am.
I’m sure it’ll be a good time.
I’ve been rather sedentary in my ways this summer in that I haven’t gotten out on my bike and hit the road like I have in the past. I don’t know why I’ve been hesitant to ride, but I’ve been feeling the affects of slacking off a little bit in that I just feel out of shape.
I decided to get my ass in gear this past weekend and went for two bike rides, 15 miles on Saturday and then 25 miles on Sunday. Both rides were extremely enjoyable and I’m planning on going for another ride tonight after work.
One of the reasons that I haven’t been riding as much is because we live on the side of a hill. It’s either a long climb right as I leave out of the driveway, when my legs are just warming up, or it’s a long climb to get home, a clever punctuation to a long journey. But while I complain about climbing the hill to get home, knowing two furry faces are waiting for my arrival (Earl’s and Tom’s) makes it all worthwhile.
I’m finding myself on the canalway trails more and on the road less, simply because I’ve become less tolerent of the motoring public. People are paying less and less attention to cyclists on the roads these days and you have to stand firmly on your ground if you want to avoid getting hit. Act like a car and you’ll be treated with respect. Act like a coward and you’ll be squashed like a bug.
I hope to do a day long ride before the snow flies. I’d really like to do an overnight ride before the snow flies; perhaps I’ll do a “falling leaves tour” of sorts and enjoy the scenery.
I may have jumped on the bike a little late this year, but the scenery is wonderful from my two wheels.
I finally got around to downloading and then uploading our vacation pictures from our trip in July. You can take a peek here if you wish.
Yesterday Earl and I hopped in the Jeep to spend an afternoon up in my hometown. I was a bad son in that I didn’t stop in and see my family, instead, we went to the Pulaski Field Days.
For those unfamiliar with the “field days” concept, let me explain. During the summer, volunteer fire departments in this area have a town carnival-type affair to raise money for the department. There’s a midway, games, raffles, lots of food and beer, and a parade through the Main Street area showing off area fire departments, marching bands and other civic groups. If you are a fan of the 10,000 Maniacs, you’ll note that they had a song called “Stockton Gala Days” – in Southwestern New York, they call the festivities “Gala Days”, up here in Central New York, we call them “Field Days”.
Anyways, Earl and I haven’t been to the Pulaski Field Days in a number of years. It’s always good fun in that we see quite a few people that I went to school with, a smattering of teachers, business owners and such. The last time we went to the parade was in 2000. Being the music teacher I aspired to be and the proud member of the marching band in both junior and senior high school, I was a little disappointed in the band’s performance that year. They didn’t seem as loud, choreographed or as polished that I remembered the band to be when I was in it. Of course, everyone tends to remember their formative years to be a little better than they probably were and I attributed my band memories to that.
This year, the band was very, very good. They are now led by a former classmate of mine, who is carrying on the legacy of our band director and his father (a former band director at a neighboring school) with pride and dignity. The band sounded good, they looked good and overall they performed well.
I may have lost touch with most of my friends and classmates from when I was growing up, but I’m still proud to be an alumni of Pulaski Academy and Central School.
Here’s some pictures of the band and colorguard:
And here’s a picture of Pulaski’s “Main Street”, which is actually called Jefferson Street. It’s a quaint little village, not as bustling as it was back in the day, though. Most of the business has moved out to Rome Street to the various plazas and such.
I know that it’s incredibly un-PC for me to say what I’m about to say but I don’t care, I’m going to say it anyway.
If people move to the United States, they should learn English. At least enough to get by.
I’m offended by this trend to bilingually label everything. Sears has all their department signage in both English and Spanish. Lowe’s does the same. Eckerd’s electronic signature pad devices are bilingual. Why? And why Spanish? We’re 100 miles or so from the Canadian border! If you’re going to bilingually label everything, shouldn’t it be in French? I don’t want to see a sign that says “Women’s Personal Items” in English, let allow Spanish as well.
There’s a chain grocery store here that does their announcements in English, then Spanish, then Bosnian (this area has a large Bosnian population). There’s hardly any time left for Muzak. But what about Polish? Or Italian? Or Cantonese? Or Chinese? The Chinese take-out place I go to doesn’t have a problem with me saying “Number 69 with pork fried rice instead of shrimp fried rice” in English. Sure, their menu has odd phrases like “We Delivery!” or “No Accept Check”, but at least they’re making an effort.
Yes, the United States is a great melting pot. But “back in the day”, those that migrated to our shores looking for a better life made an effort to speak our language. Sure, it’s heavily accented. Yes, they still speak their native tongue amongst one another. There’s nothing wrong with that. But when they went to the A&P or whatever, they knew enough English to understand when Mr. Whipple said “Don’t squeeze the Charmin.”
I’m not looking for conformity. I don’t expect everyone to be a happy Republican and speaking like Thurston Howell III. I don’t expect that. I just think that if you’re moving to the United States, you should make an attempt to learn the language.
Now mind you, I don’t have a problem with these phone systems that prompt foreign language speakers to select a menu entry to jump into their own language. Computer systems allow us the luxury of being able to do that, and that’s wonderful. Sure, I have to tolerate a menu fit for the United Nations simply when I want to let Verizon know how much they suck, but as long as I don’t have to hear the entire conversation bilingually, I’ll give into to that.
I think I’m getting cranky as I get older.
I was thinking earlier today that I needed to stop and pick up some stuff for the house. Cleaning supplies, cat supplies, that sort of thing. I really didn’t cherish the idea of heading into Wal*Mart (Always White Trash, Always) and I’ve become positively bored with Target so I it looks like I was stuck with K-mart.
The K-mart closest to us is crap. And that’s hard for me to say, because when I was a small kid, that’s where we always shopped, at K-mart with my maternal grandmother. We’d get popcorn by the jewelry counter, do some shopping and such. Or if the timing was right, we’d eat lunch at the K-mart Cafeteria in the back off the store. But no, this K-mart is rapidly becoming a junk store, and that kind of makes me sad. There are six registers, numbered two through nine. The store has one of those ugly “Big K” logos on the front, but it’s all faded. The lights buzz. The shelves are in disarray. It has a decidedly early 1980s feel to it.
You’d think if they wanted to remain competitive with Wal*Mart and Target, they’d keep the place hospitable.
I don’t expect a lot from my local discount department store. I’m not a big fan of Wal*Mart SuperCenters, though I have given them a fair chance. They are just too damn big and crowded. And Target seems, well, I don’t know. It’s like it wants to be Sears but have carts too.
You know, I’m going to admit it. I miss Ames.
Ames opened up in my hometown in 1977. It was store #80, before they acquired Zayre, before they acquired Hills, before they acquired Big N. It had everything we needed and it wasn’t sprawled out all over the place. I always thought it rocked because the record department was right in front next to the jewelry counter (at least before the first remodeling done in the mid 1980s). I didn’t mind when they moved the record department (and added computers) to the back corner of the store.
I worked for Ames just after college. It was a pleasant experience, quite comparable to my “Hills at Christmas” stint in 1990. I got to interact with lots of people, I wore a red vest that didn’t look too gawd awful and the pay was a little more than minimum wage. And then in the mid to late 1990s I had actually applied for an IT job with the company. They were getting ready to implement an entirely new computer system in all of their stores and I wanted in on the fun. But I wasn’t ready to move to Connecticut. (Plus, I had met this new guy named Earl and I thought I had a future building with him).
I always liked shopping at Ames. It was just the right size, they had popcorn near the front registers and I didn’t feel like I needed to hop a crosstown bus to get from Health and Beauty Aids to Pet Supplies. I know, as a gay man I was suppose to be all decked out in designer-label fancy clothes purchased at a mall boutique that featured bear-chested twinkies, but I liked the clothes at Ames. I felt stylish in them. There was a rugged air to them. I wasn’t shunned when I wore them.
But then they went and closed up shop in 2002.
I never did make it K-mart today. I’ll probably go over the weekend. I’ll deal with it, but I won’t find my Bargains By The Bagful.
I just read that tonight it’s suppose to drop to 56 degrees after a nice, refreshing cold front passes through. I am so excited about this that I am almost giddy with anticipation.
It has been so hot and sticky for the past couple of nights that I feel like I haven’t slept in a week.
To celebrate the cold front, I think I’ll run around naked in the driveway and drink it all in tonight. I hope the neighbors don’t mind.
Then I’ll take a nice nap.
A few days or weeks ago I mentioned that we were in the process of abandoning our AT&T/CallVantage service and switching back to Verizon, mainly due to difficulties we were having with the emerging VoIP technology. Well, I gave AT&T one more shot and they replaced our VoIP box and corrected the issue. The service is working *beautifully* and I couldn’t be happier.
During this slight drama, Verizon called back and told me that they couldn’t transfer my service as quickly as they had initially promised (2 days from the day I placed the order). It would take two to three weeks instead. In addition, they would need to send a technician out to the house to do some wiring. (Why, I don’t know). They told me that they could send a tech out on either August 11 or 12 between 8 and 5. I asked her which of those two dates it would be. The rather snotty woman with the strong New York accent told me that she couldn’t pinpoint the date due to scheduling so I would have to have someone home 18 years of age or older those two days to meet the tech. I informed her that as a telephone man myself, I’m sure that if they turned the dial tone on to the house, I could handle it from there. She told me that was unacceptable (and she used the term “unacceptable”) and that I would have to have someone home to meet the tech at anytime during that 16 hour window. I could not provide a cell phone number for them to contact me, I had to be home.
Martha Stewart gets an ankle bracelet, I get the threat of a Verizon tech.
I told her, very sweetly, that I would call back to reschedule after I checked my work calendar. (I hadn’t cleared the trouble I was having with AT&T at the time).
Then AT&T went ahead and fixed our service so I just spent 20 minutes trying to call Verizon to cancel our pending order.
After three attempts to call customer service and being thrown into Voice Jail twice, I finally banged on the phone buttons enough times to make the phone system have a heart attack and throw me to an agent. That’s after I had punched in my ten digit phone number three times, said “AGENT” at the voice prompt, typed in my phone number, said “FUCK YOU” to the voice prompt, announced my phone number, sexuality and had the cat meow into the phone at the third voice prompt and then typed “6” repeatedly until someone resembling a human being spoke on the other end.
Mr. David Sharpinski inquired as to why I was calling after asking me my ten-digit telephone number. (Never mind I had entered it into the keypad at three or four prompts beforehand). I told him that I wanted to cancel my pending order, and gave him the order number they had provided me when I originally called. He needed to verify my name, address and SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER. I refused to give my SSN to him, save for the last four digits. He said he needed it to look up the order. Apparently, your telephone number has nothing to do with your telephone service. Verizon would rather abuse the use of your social security number and use that. “It identifies you.” was his explanation. I responded, “Well so doesn’t my lack of hair, hot temper, height, weight, personality and loads of charm, but I don’t think that’s documented on my order, is it?” He wasn’t amused, but went ahead and cancelled the order and ended the call with “If you ever need Verizon’s services, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Moral of the story. If you can’t get your service to work properly through Verizon, don’t bother calling. Buy some string and pull some cans out of the recycle bin. It’ll be much easier.
* If you want to abandon your landline, I HIGHLY recommend AT&T/CallVantage or any other VoIP service to use over your internet broadband. You don’t get screwed with outrageous charges like the phone companies do and the customer service is much better.
I was chatting with a co-worker today, while being wildly productive at the same time I may add, about the fact that this area is really lacking in the Wi-fi/Internet café department. Yes, we have a 3/4 sized Barnes and Noble with a cute Fisher-Price coffee bar, which does offer wi-fi, but it’s not the same. There’s surly yuppies that parallel park themselves and don’t move for hours, slowly sipping on their venti whichamajoogies as if they were trying to suck water out of a stone. SLUUUUURP.
Of course, I could always go to Panera, but like many other chain establishments in this area, its gone right down the crapper in the quality department. There’s something about the chain restaurants and stores around here. It’s like the lack of culture around here takes over and all standards of quality go right down the drain. Hell, our beautiful Target now looks like an old Zayre, complete with the smell of burned popcorn. Not that I didn’t enjoy Zayre, because I did, but Target was always suppose to be more upscale than that, and here its not.
Then we have JCPenney that looks like a poor man’s Woolworth. *Loved* Woolworth back in the day, but the bargain bin approach this JCPenney is taking would make James Cash himself spin in his own grave.
I want something very trendy with free wi-fi where I can get a hot green tea frothy something and show off my Powerbook and associated smarts. I want to get hot and bothered in public on my cam, wildly teasing others with my thirst for technology and then giving them the satisfaction of heading home, leaving bystanders to wonder just what was going to happen with my Powerbook when I got there.
But no, the closest thing we have is McDonalds on a good day and that’s just not going to cut it.
Just a guy with a husband. We’ve been together 28 years and he still makes me see fireworks on a daily basis. Hiker. Storm Chaser. Private Pilot. Tech Guy. Hackerish.
Weird? Eccentric!