A has a story: he was driving in NYC, trying to find the ?Empire State Building?. The details escape me but this part does not: at one point he had become tangled & rerouted & lost track of the building. So he opened the door to step out & see if he could see & a bicyclist slammed into the door. & then the man said these immortal words: "Where do you think you are man, your living room?" & he was right. It is not OKay to get out of a car in the middle of traffic & start looking at the skyline.
You know what else is not your living room: the doctor's waiting area. I was at the dermatologist a couple weeks ago & a woman went in for her exam leaving her elementary-school-age children playing in the waiting room. The crowded, high traffic waiting room. One of the children decided to go look for her mother. No one had actually been paying them much attention, but we all know this because mom came out & had a near nervous breakdown when she could not find her daughter. She screamed at the receptionist & the other child alternately for not having "kept an eye on her". The daughter was escorted back around the same time having barged in on someone else's exam.
This past Saturday, I was in a large chain bookstore, the kind with the chairs sprinkled around for customers to...use the products without purchasing? I am not clear on that one actually. & while it is true they have tried to make it seem like your living room it is not; it is a public space. At this warehouse-of-a-bookstore was a group of kids having a ?Pokemon? card trade negotiation thing (a twice-a-month event posted on the store bulletin board) & they were not loud but not whispering. The old guy a few rows over trying to read his book got up every few minutes to shush them. & then argue with them. & then bring an employee over to throw them out. The employee 1) asked the kids to keep it down & 2) suggested old guy maybe move to another part of the store where it was quieter. The kids kept it down for maybe five minutes but it did not matter because old guy had already left in a huff. Empty handed. That's right, old guy was not reading a book he had bought or even was going to buy. He was treating the bookstore like his living room & got pissed at anyone else doing the exact same thing.
But the big not-your-living-room offender has got to be cell phone addicts. It is not OKay to take phone calls, no matter how important, in the movie theatre. What amazes me is that there are still enough people who do not accept this that I have not been to a movie in which at least one phone did not ring in I do not know how long. In Julie & Julia one person actually took TWO calls. Then the little old lady behind her rose up & started squawking so loud same woman had to leave the theatre...in order to hear what was being said....on the phone! We all know this because she explained it, loudly, to the person on the line as she left.
While I am on the subject of how the movie theatre is not your living room, let me point out it is also not your nursery. I am SICK & TIRED of people bringing infants to the movies: infants start screaming & so person with infant takes baby to the aisle. Really? To walk up & down, trying to calm baby while still in the theatre? I always want to ask: can we have your home address because the rest of the theatre has a lot of noisy, smelly, unpleasant sh*t we need to do somewhere & well, you volunteered.
The grocery store is also not your living room (or bedroom). I got so fed up with a woman having soft-core phone sex while in the grocery store that I started to participate. I got out about two sentences of commentary before she put down her basket & left. I find this actually works quite well in other rude-phone situations & I have taken to lying about it, as in "see that woman with the blue dress on the phone by the Cap'n Crunch/paint roller/oak leaf hydrangea, I think she must be talking to someone she really hates because she keeps rolling her eyes & giving the phone the finger". I did once have one person tell me I was interrupting a 'private conversation'. My answer : "Hey I am just talking loud to my imaginary friend, too, what makes you think it is about you?".
& then there is the last place that is not your living room. That would be MY living room. I think that is actually the root of the problem. Between the computer & the television everyone is so accustomed to traffic thru their own private space that they are having trouble telling the difference between private & public. I guess the only thing for me to do now is stop typing.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Dear Geico Representative
If you read your own e-mail (which the auto-responses to my messages rather imply that you do not), you already know that our household of Geico customers is leaving your company after 20+ years because of Geico's continued support of the Philadelphia Eagles following their decision to sign Michale Vick.
The e-mail response I did receive stated clearly that the potential new customer is worth more to your organization than the existing customer. I find it hard to believe that anyone would stay in business for as long as Geico has if that were true so you should know: if it was a bluff hoping the anti-Michael Vick sentiments would fade away, it failed. Several of your competitors were delighted to scoop up our business & all gave us reasonable quotes & better customer service.
I hope whatever Geico staffer actually opens this letter takes a good look in the mirror. After the furor over this very poor marketing decision has died down, even if people like us represent only a fraction of Geico's overall customer base, the exodus of long-term, on-time bill paying, non-claim making (we have not had so much as a moving violation for more than ten years) customers means there will be less money in the pot for payroll. The job that gets cut will not be the suit that thought this would blow over; that person will be enjoying Philadelphia Eagles skybox service while you are waiting in the unemployment line.
Happy Labor Day.
The e-mail response I did receive stated clearly that the potential new customer is worth more to your organization than the existing customer. I find it hard to believe that anyone would stay in business for as long as Geico has if that were true so you should know: if it was a bluff hoping the anti-Michael Vick sentiments would fade away, it failed. Several of your competitors were delighted to scoop up our business & all gave us reasonable quotes & better customer service.
I hope whatever Geico staffer actually opens this letter takes a good look in the mirror. After the furor over this very poor marketing decision has died down, even if people like us represent only a fraction of Geico's overall customer base, the exodus of long-term, on-time bill paying, non-claim making (we have not had so much as a moving violation for more than ten years) customers means there will be less money in the pot for payroll. The job that gets cut will not be the suit that thought this would blow over; that person will be enjoying Philadelphia Eagles skybox service while you are waiting in the unemployment line.
Happy Labor Day.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
An old story about a (then) new donkey
I suppose that before I tell even an old story about the donkey, I should tell you more about the donkey. His name is Bert. It is short for someone else's last name. That last name is shared by a favorite late-night-show host. Together they are the triple crown of Assdom: the natural-born ass, the entertainment ass & the beloved former co-worker.
People told me that horses were smarter than donkeys. This is a crock. I have met the occasional clever horse but never even heard of one that could out-shine the average donkey. People think donkeys are stoopid because donkeys do not care what people think.
I was also told that donkeys are stubborn. This is absolutely correct. If you have never had to negotiate with a donkey you do not know what stubborn is. On the other hand, more than once when faced with a particularly belligerent/spoiled/obtuse individual I have had the realization that I have dealt with a much bigger ass already that morning. It is more empowering then EST. I should probably start a self-help program. Our slogan could be "your biggest ass is behind you". Maybe not.
Back to the donkey. What I was not prepared for was not just cleverness, not just stubbornness but actual intellect-driven behavior. & to show you what I mean, I will tell you an old story:
Long ago in the mists of time....our donkey yanked so hard on the chain that winds around the fence post & the gate that he broke the clip that fastened the two ends together (believe it or not dear reader, there is actually ANOTHER story about the same donkey that begins this exact same way, but I will save it for another time). It was a fluke almost that I even caught him before he had run out the opened gate; I heard way-too-much rattling & went to investigate. I pulled the two ends of the chain back together, looped them through each other & fastened them with an inferior clasp. Bert went to work on this 'new' closure immediately & I sat down to think. It was late at night & even if I had time to get to the hardware store (I did not) it would not be open. A was out of town & there was really no one I could call who could be there in time to help, even if I knew what form that help could take; I had maybe ten minutes tops & then the donkey would be out.
One interesting thing about this gate: although the gate itself was hung to open either inward or outward, the slope of the land is such that outward from the pasture is the ideal way. You can pull it inward, up the slope, but it takes some heaving-while-lifting & really only works if the grass is closely cropped.
While the donkey worked on the chain, the horses had moved in closer to see what he was up to. They did not yet know Bert's stunts often resulted in extra food, some adventure, but for them it was still something new to watch.
As the donkey unlooped the almost-last loop, I pulled my car up so the bumper pressed against just the what-would-swing-open end of the gate. My thinking was that once the donkey got it unlooped & tried to push it open, he would meet resistance he could do nothing about & go find some other mischief. I was wrong.
Bert did not need to try to push the gate open to know the car would keep it from opening; he stopped unwinding the chain immediately. & then I saw his first full-blown temper tantrum. He he-hawed, he kicked the air, he yanked on the gate itself making a fruitless rattle. In short, he stopped working & started complaining. He paced back & forth in front of the gate (still barely held closed by the chain) snorting & stomping & shaking his head. The horses were fascinated. Then Bert just stopped & stalked off.
The next morning, A came home from his trip or I called someone to go to the hardware store or whatever & I got a new chain with a new clasp. What I do remember is that when I backed the car up so I could remove the bent & broken chain, open the gate, & refasten with the new one all the horses came to watch. Bert grazed at the back of the pasture & I never even saw him turn to look.
//for the record I have never had EST training, nor do I have a complete understanding of what it entails. What I did have (circa 1984) was a very hazy idea that the guy I had been assigned to work with on a project was trying to manipulate me into doing the yucky bits by claiming he was better qualified to do the fun stuff. My response: "All the EST training in the world will not bend my brain into thinking you are even 1/2 the genius you already know you are not. Knock it off." It turns out I had 1) made the correct assessment & 2) hit upon the exact magic words designed to deflate a seminar-puffed bully.
People told me that horses were smarter than donkeys. This is a crock. I have met the occasional clever horse but never even heard of one that could out-shine the average donkey. People think donkeys are stoopid because donkeys do not care what people think.
I was also told that donkeys are stubborn. This is absolutely correct. If you have never had to negotiate with a donkey you do not know what stubborn is. On the other hand, more than once when faced with a particularly belligerent/spoiled/obtuse individual I have had the realization that I have dealt with a much bigger ass already that morning. It is more empowering then EST. I should probably start a self-help program. Our slogan could be "your biggest ass is behind you". Maybe not.
Back to the donkey. What I was not prepared for was not just cleverness, not just stubbornness but actual intellect-driven behavior. & to show you what I mean, I will tell you an old story:
Long ago in the mists of time....our donkey yanked so hard on the chain that winds around the fence post & the gate that he broke the clip that fastened the two ends together (believe it or not dear reader, there is actually ANOTHER story about the same donkey that begins this exact same way, but I will save it for another time). It was a fluke almost that I even caught him before he had run out the opened gate; I heard way-too-much rattling & went to investigate. I pulled the two ends of the chain back together, looped them through each other & fastened them with an inferior clasp. Bert went to work on this 'new' closure immediately & I sat down to think. It was late at night & even if I had time to get to the hardware store (I did not) it would not be open. A was out of town & there was really no one I could call who could be there in time to help, even if I knew what form that help could take; I had maybe ten minutes tops & then the donkey would be out.
One interesting thing about this gate: although the gate itself was hung to open either inward or outward, the slope of the land is such that outward from the pasture is the ideal way. You can pull it inward, up the slope, but it takes some heaving-while-lifting & really only works if the grass is closely cropped.
While the donkey worked on the chain, the horses had moved in closer to see what he was up to. They did not yet know Bert's stunts often resulted in extra food, some adventure, but for them it was still something new to watch.
As the donkey unlooped the almost-last loop, I pulled my car up so the bumper pressed against just the what-would-swing-open end of the gate. My thinking was that once the donkey got it unlooped & tried to push it open, he would meet resistance he could do nothing about & go find some other mischief. I was wrong.
Bert did not need to try to push the gate open to know the car would keep it from opening; he stopped unwinding the chain immediately. & then I saw his first full-blown temper tantrum. He he-hawed, he kicked the air, he yanked on the gate itself making a fruitless rattle. In short, he stopped working & started complaining. He paced back & forth in front of the gate (still barely held closed by the chain) snorting & stomping & shaking his head. The horses were fascinated. Then Bert just stopped & stalked off.
The next morning, A came home from his trip or I called someone to go to the hardware store or whatever & I got a new chain with a new clasp. What I do remember is that when I backed the car up so I could remove the bent & broken chain, open the gate, & refasten with the new one all the horses came to watch. Bert grazed at the back of the pasture & I never even saw him turn to look.
//for the record I have never had EST training, nor do I have a complete understanding of what it entails. What I did have (circa 1984) was a very hazy idea that the guy I had been assigned to work with on a project was trying to manipulate me into doing the yucky bits by claiming he was better qualified to do the fun stuff. My response: "All the EST training in the world will not bend my brain into thinking you are even 1/2 the genius you already know you are not. Knock it off." It turns out I had 1) made the correct assessment & 2) hit upon the exact magic words designed to deflate a seminar-puffed bully.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Dear Humane Society of the United States
I was sorry when I learned that HSUS had agreed to endorse Michael Vick's return to the NFL before any measure of his rehabilitation could be made. Now that Vick has made clear that he has no plans to attempt sobriety (to refresh your memory, his addictions were the excuse he gave for his actions), I hope that you are reconsidering your support of what was clearly a quick&dirty clean-up so that someone could make some money.
As of right now, any support (financial, volunteer, etc.) that I gave to HSUS has already stopped. I know enough people in the animal rescue world to know that I am one of thousands who have made this decision. I am also business savvy enough to understand that the donation the NFL made to get the support of the HSUS in this debacle must have been substantial. It may even be enough to offset the loss of revenue from small household donors such as myself.
There is no doubt that the decision to take what was offered & prop up Michael Vick for as long as HSUS has will be the decision that defines HSUS well into the future. What is still at stake is whether HSUS is an organization that can admit a mistake was made. Was HSUS a naive but well-intentioned organization that was temporarily distracted by dollar signs & has realized this error OR is HSUS just another corporate entity designed primarily to make money to feed its coffers? Or is it even worse: is the HSUS employee that brokered this deal & received a sizable bonus for his "fund raising" the same person who makes the decision on whether or not to "stay the course"?
When Michael Vick does finally crash&burn (& there is every reason to believe it will be sooner rather than later), the press will have a field day with if HSUS is still the organization that was more interested in rescuing animal abusers than helping the animals themselves.
It seems clear that HSUS is at a crossroads. Is it better to stay in bed with the symbol of everything the HSUS claims to be against because the money is good or get out with some shreds of credibility intact & hope that action generates some goodwill? At this point, these are the only choices left.
As of right now, any support (financial, volunteer, etc.) that I gave to HSUS has already stopped. I know enough people in the animal rescue world to know that I am one of thousands who have made this decision. I am also business savvy enough to understand that the donation the NFL made to get the support of the HSUS in this debacle must have been substantial. It may even be enough to offset the loss of revenue from small household donors such as myself.
There is no doubt that the decision to take what was offered & prop up Michael Vick for as long as HSUS has will be the decision that defines HSUS well into the future. What is still at stake is whether HSUS is an organization that can admit a mistake was made. Was HSUS a naive but well-intentioned organization that was temporarily distracted by dollar signs & has realized this error OR is HSUS just another corporate entity designed primarily to make money to feed its coffers? Or is it even worse: is the HSUS employee that brokered this deal & received a sizable bonus for his "fund raising" the same person who makes the decision on whether or not to "stay the course"?
When Michael Vick does finally crash&burn (& there is every reason to believe it will be sooner rather than later), the press will have a field day with if HSUS is still the organization that was more interested in rescuing animal abusers than helping the animals themselves.
It seems clear that HSUS is at a crossroads. Is it better to stay in bed with the symbol of everything the HSUS claims to be against because the money is good or get out with some shreds of credibility intact & hope that action generates some goodwill? At this point, these are the only choices left.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Reconciling the disparate
Last weekend was swap day for the fourth FaceBook Quilt Block Swap Group; we swapped kids blocks. The directions were simple in the extreme: a 4" or larger center block (that may or may not be pieced) bordered up (with border(s) that may or may not be pieced) to 9"/9.5"unfinished. It was our largest block s far & the largest swap: the most participants & most participants sent more than one set of five.
& now what to do with the wildly disparate if roughly the same size, blocks. For me it is a no-brainer, my fall-back sashing: Reconciling the Disparate.
I begin with 2.5" strips of a more-or-less read-as-solid fabric. To calculate how much you need measure your block (9.5") times the number of blocks (9) plus the edge of the block with one side sashed (11.5") times the number of blocks. Or 85.5" plus 103.5" for a total of 189" of 2.5" strips. If you have ever calculated the amount a fabric needed to make a binding, this should already start to look familiar.
I estimate that any bolt has 40" of useful fabric so 189" dived by 40" means that it will take roughly five strips to go all the way around two sides of each block (yes, I rounded up). Then I add an extra strip for my own convenience; I really do not want to piece some of those sashes together. That means I want 6 times 2.5" of fabric Or 15" for the border. I would probably round up again to 1/2 yard.
The rest is easy: I border two dies of each block. In this case, I did not worry too much abut which two sides (if I have blocks of the same pattern I try to border the same sides). & then I put them together so that no seam needs to be matched.
The advantage of this pattern is that I can re-size the blocks if need to be AFTER the sashing has gone on without changing the dimension of the original block (without losing triangle points or having to add if the block was too small). In this case, I took the blocks down to 11" unfinished, trimming only from the sashing. & because there are no seams to match, it is almost impossible to see any difference in the sashing width from block to block.
& now what to do with the wildly disparate if roughly the same size, blocks. For me it is a no-brainer, my fall-back sashing: Reconciling the Disparate.
I begin with 2.5" strips of a more-or-less read-as-solid fabric. To calculate how much you need measure your block (9.5") times the number of blocks (9) plus the edge of the block with one side sashed (11.5") times the number of blocks. Or 85.5" plus 103.5" for a total of 189" of 2.5" strips. If you have ever calculated the amount a fabric needed to make a binding, this should already start to look familiar.
I estimate that any bolt has 40" of useful fabric so 189" dived by 40" means that it will take roughly five strips to go all the way around two sides of each block (yes, I rounded up). Then I add an extra strip for my own convenience; I really do not want to piece some of those sashes together. That means I want 6 times 2.5" of fabric Or 15" for the border. I would probably round up again to 1/2 yard.
The rest is easy: I border two dies of each block. In this case, I did not worry too much abut which two sides (if I have blocks of the same pattern I try to border the same sides). & then I put them together so that no seam needs to be matched.
The advantage of this pattern is that I can re-size the blocks if need to be AFTER the sashing has gone on without changing the dimension of the original block (without losing triangle points or having to add if the block was too small). In this case, I took the blocks down to 11" unfinished, trimming only from the sashing. & because there are no seams to match, it is almost impossible to see any difference in the sashing width from block to block.
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