South Beach, 2010
NorthSideFour: You're never too old, too wacky, too wild, to pick up a book and read to a child. Dr. Suess
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The Isle of U-Verse
"U-Verse!"
Jack was beyond excited, the day had finally arrived: his television and computer would be able to communicate. But there is more, an all sports option, the ability to see every single sporting event available on television at one time. Picture in picture, what he once thought of as the single greatest invention yet known, was old news, this was revolutionary. No longer could cricket hideaway on some far off channel; it was if a voice from above could shout out to him in a moment of remote confusion, "Jack, someone is catching a trout on channel 834, get there now!".
Calendars were cleared, plans were made, the U-Verse Goddess would descend upon us on a Monday morning and in four short hours all would be right with the world. She arrived on schedule and set to work. Nine hours later, exhausted and sweaty, she appeared on the back stairs: U-Verse would not be ours, not today, maybe someday she promised. A highly specialized doubly trained super smart high tech person would be in our home within 48 hours, there was more work to be done. Defeated, she left.
No one appeared on Tuesday. Repeatedly I called the phone number she provided, the one that, next to the number, read "We are here to help!" only to get a busy signal. Confused, having previously thought that my mother was the only person left on earth without call waiting, I continued to hit redial. Why AT&T had only one line baffled me. There was also a website but for reasons unknown my computer was not working, no Internet available. Jack took over dialing when he came home. It was not a busy signal, we had no phone service, which in an instant explained why my computer was dark as well. We tried the television, nothing. The four hour minor surgery that was to connect us to the world beyond in a way we never thought possible had ended as a nine hour communication lobotomy.
Using his cell phone, Jack found Deborah at a Kentucky call center who was as surprised as we were to find we were left without any service. He was put on hold. Thirty minutes later she returned, there was little that could be done, someone would call us the next day. Saving the details of this four day odyssey through AT&T customer service madness, in fear of incurring high blood pressure related medical bills to compete with my cell phone charges, I relate this exchange: 45 minute holding time to talk to one person, detailed explanation offered of problem, transfer, 20 minute hold, further details needed, transfer, 40 minute hold, friendly voice asking for my phone number, and then, "let me just read through these notes here", 10 minute hold and then, "and how may I help you today?".
Pardon me, you just spent 10 minutes reading your colleague’s notes about this ridiculous situation, surely peppered with commentary about the mental instability of the woman on the other end of the line, and you and your friendly voice would like to know how you can help me today?
By Wednesday I was cranky. Unfinished essays sat on my computer, unable to go anywhere, longing to be completed, and read. My husband suggested I take the girls to the coffee shop and write there. I suggested he take the girls to the office.
On Thursday I had this conversation with another genius at AT&T:
Genius: We’ll have someone out tomorrow to restore your phone service, between 12 and 6.
Happy Customer: I will not be home between 12 and 6.
Genius: Will there be anyone home to let us in?
Happy Customer: No, I will not be here tomorrow.
Genius: Right, we’ll be there between 12 and 6.
Happy Customer: Wonderful. And this is to restore just the phone? What about the other issues?
Genius: Oh, what other issues are you having?
On Friday, the day before we left for a 10 day vacation, a self confident, and highly decorated, installer veteran appeared at my door. Not wanting to insult the woman who left me on a remote island Monday, but doing so anyway, he assured me that this was as simple as flipping a switch and that he would be out of my hair in no time. Six hours later he found the switch, restoring what we once knew, and bringing the hope of trout fishing into our living room.
The next morning we left for Michigan, to the idyllic and tranquil life not bounded by telephones and computers. Where, rather than watch it on television, you can saunter down to the shore any morning and watch people actually fish. Thank goodness we were able to get away.
Jack was beyond excited, the day had finally arrived: his television and computer would be able to communicate. But there is more, an all sports option, the ability to see every single sporting event available on television at one time. Picture in picture, what he once thought of as the single greatest invention yet known, was old news, this was revolutionary. No longer could cricket hideaway on some far off channel; it was if a voice from above could shout out to him in a moment of remote confusion, "Jack, someone is catching a trout on channel 834, get there now!".
Calendars were cleared, plans were made, the U-Verse Goddess would descend upon us on a Monday morning and in four short hours all would be right with the world. She arrived on schedule and set to work. Nine hours later, exhausted and sweaty, she appeared on the back stairs: U-Verse would not be ours, not today, maybe someday she promised. A highly specialized doubly trained super smart high tech person would be in our home within 48 hours, there was more work to be done. Defeated, she left.
No one appeared on Tuesday. Repeatedly I called the phone number she provided, the one that, next to the number, read "We are here to help!" only to get a busy signal. Confused, having previously thought that my mother was the only person left on earth without call waiting, I continued to hit redial. Why AT&T had only one line baffled me. There was also a website but for reasons unknown my computer was not working, no Internet available. Jack took over dialing when he came home. It was not a busy signal, we had no phone service, which in an instant explained why my computer was dark as well. We tried the television, nothing. The four hour minor surgery that was to connect us to the world beyond in a way we never thought possible had ended as a nine hour communication lobotomy.
Using his cell phone, Jack found Deborah at a Kentucky call center who was as surprised as we were to find we were left without any service. He was put on hold. Thirty minutes later she returned, there was little that could be done, someone would call us the next day. Saving the details of this four day odyssey through AT&T customer service madness, in fear of incurring high blood pressure related medical bills to compete with my cell phone charges, I relate this exchange: 45 minute holding time to talk to one person, detailed explanation offered of problem, transfer, 20 minute hold, further details needed, transfer, 40 minute hold, friendly voice asking for my phone number, and then, "let me just read through these notes here", 10 minute hold and then, "and how may I help you today?".
Pardon me, you just spent 10 minutes reading your colleague’s notes about this ridiculous situation, surely peppered with commentary about the mental instability of the woman on the other end of the line, and you and your friendly voice would like to know how you can help me today?
By Wednesday I was cranky. Unfinished essays sat on my computer, unable to go anywhere, longing to be completed, and read. My husband suggested I take the girls to the coffee shop and write there. I suggested he take the girls to the office.
On Thursday I had this conversation with another genius at AT&T:
Genius: We’ll have someone out tomorrow to restore your phone service, between 12 and 6.
Happy Customer: I will not be home between 12 and 6.
Genius: Will there be anyone home to let us in?
Happy Customer: No, I will not be here tomorrow.
Genius: Right, we’ll be there between 12 and 6.
Happy Customer: Wonderful. And this is to restore just the phone? What about the other issues?
Genius: Oh, what other issues are you having?
On Friday, the day before we left for a 10 day vacation, a self confident, and highly decorated, installer veteran appeared at my door. Not wanting to insult the woman who left me on a remote island Monday, but doing so anyway, he assured me that this was as simple as flipping a switch and that he would be out of my hair in no time. Six hours later he found the switch, restoring what we once knew, and bringing the hope of trout fishing into our living room.
The next morning we left for Michigan, to the idyllic and tranquil life not bounded by telephones and computers. Where, rather than watch it on television, you can saunter down to the shore any morning and watch people actually fish. Thank goodness we were able to get away.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Goop
The Goops they lick their fingers
And the Goops they lick their knives
They spill their broth on the tablecloth
Oh they lead untidy lives!
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop, are you?
Gillette Burgess
And the Goops they lick their knives
They spill their broth on the tablecloth
Oh they lead untidy lives!
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop, are you?
Gillette Burgess
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Growth Chart
They are now amongst the oldest children on the playground. Where once I was following behind their tottering selves, I am now free to sit and watch, or make grocery lists, write. They play together, chasing around, and I caution them to be weary of the younger children, the ones with the nervous moms close behind. They push each other on the swings, a dangerous experiment, with no concept of height or physics they push wildly, sending the other soaring and twisting into outer space
Each summer they discover things that only eight months ago were too high, too scary, too out of reach. Kate can now scale the mini rock wall and Mary, en pointe, can reach the not quite so tall hanging bar. The consistency of the park serves as a growth chart far beyond notches on our kitchen wall; bravery, comfort and confidence are all noted on the playground, far more telling than the inch or two that Kate grew this past year.Where once they hesitated they now charge off without a look behind, racing to swings and slides and perilous climbing situations. But I'm here, watching, if they might need a push or place to fall, as I need to be, for years to come.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Independence Day
Beyond fireworks, which I love, and corn on the cob, my children are learning that Independence Day is celebrated, not just because it is a wonderful mid summer holiday that keeps Dad at home and brings the Uncles to Chicago, but as the day that the Second Continental Congress approved the Declaration of Independence.
But then originally those wild souls thought that future picnics, fireworks and parades would all take place on July 2nd, the day that they voted to approve a resolution of independence. My personal favorite patriot, John Adams, wrote to his wife Abigail,
The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.
Incredibly bright, well read, and rude to the French, he was off a few days; the games and guns and bonfires now happen on the fourth of July, although we all know that it is a holiday weekend and the fun lasts more than one day. In recent years it seems that any acknowledgement of the holiday beyond Roman Candles has been a reenactment of Memorial Day. Barack Obama, in a holiday email, reminds us to "honor the men and women in our armed forces whose immeasurable bravery and sacrifice have made our country what it is today".
Yes, but let us not forget the traitors who risked certain death at the hands of King George to establish the country that we live in today. In this time of flag waving American bravado, when an entire political movement honors in name a rebellion aimed at protesting taxation without representation, and yet two thirds of Americans cannot name one Supreme Court justice, it is important to remember the vital role that history plays in our understanding of the American political system, the players and the principals on which it it based.
The dog is named Eleanor Roosevelt, noted, but read John, Paul, George and Ben
to your children. History can be fun, especially when written by Lane Smith in an engaging and silly way. And remember, it was not the British that were coming, it was the Redcoats, so said Paul Revere.
How much do you know about the American Revolution? Find out here.
And why is John Adams my favorite patriot? He had an amazing wife, whose opinion he valued, and he defended the British soldiers following the Boston Massacre. John Adams knew that everyone deserved a fair trial, following a personal code of conduct before the Sixth Amendment made it law. John Adams would not have parked his horse in a handicap spot, I am certain.
But then originally those wild souls thought that future picnics, fireworks and parades would all take place on July 2nd, the day that they voted to approve a resolution of independence. My personal favorite patriot, John Adams, wrote to his wife Abigail,
The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.
Incredibly bright, well read, and rude to the French, he was off a few days; the games and guns and bonfires now happen on the fourth of July, although we all know that it is a holiday weekend and the fun lasts more than one day. In recent years it seems that any acknowledgement of the holiday beyond Roman Candles has been a reenactment of Memorial Day. Barack Obama, in a holiday email, reminds us to "honor the men and women in our armed forces whose immeasurable bravery and sacrifice have made our country what it is today".
Yes, but let us not forget the traitors who risked certain death at the hands of King George to establish the country that we live in today. In this time of flag waving American bravado, when an entire political movement honors in name a rebellion aimed at protesting taxation without representation, and yet two thirds of Americans cannot name one Supreme Court justice, it is important to remember the vital role that history plays in our understanding of the American political system, the players and the principals on which it it based.
The dog is named Eleanor Roosevelt, noted, but read John, Paul, George and Ben
to your children. History can be fun, especially when written by Lane Smith in an engaging and silly way. And remember, it was not the British that were coming, it was the Redcoats, so said Paul Revere.
How much do you know about the American Revolution? Find out here.
And why is John Adams my favorite patriot? He had an amazing wife, whose opinion he valued, and he defended the British soldiers following the Boston Massacre. John Adams knew that everyone deserved a fair trial, following a personal code of conduct before the Sixth Amendment made it law. John Adams would not have parked his horse in a handicap spot, I am certain.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
One Day Until Tomorrow
Perhaps you have heard, the uncles are coming. In fact today is Uncle Eve, we've been counting down all week. Today alone Mary and Kate told 12 people, I counted: dry cleaner, coffee shop lady, friend on Broadway, soccer coach, Mom at soccer, taxi driver, elevator attendant at Wrigley, peanut vendor at Wrigley, fireman, deli lady at Whole Foods, cashier at Walgreens, and finally, a truly crazy woman on the bus. The very same woman who said "they ain't twins!" and I said that yes, they were, as I tried to move them past, but not before she got in, "well what's wrong with that one?", pointing to the much shorter Mary. Mary looked up, smiled, and said "our uncles are coming!". Nothing wrong here, nothing that three days with the uncles can't fix, thank you.
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