?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Sirius Revisited

Posted on August 5, 2007

On July 11, I wrote harsh words about commercial free Sirius radio and determined to return my equipment and cancel my subscription for a service that never worked. I ranted and raved not only on line but also in private. But the truth is I never got around to cancelling the subscription in question. To the rescue came Earl, who had given me the equipment and the service in the first place last Christmas.

“What if I get it fixed for you?” he said. I mentally threw up my hands at capitulating after a long and unproductive spring with Sirius telephone help, but I restrained from saying so aloud. Instead, I told him if he wanted to tinker with it, that was just fine with me.

So Earl took my car to the local Best Buy, spoke with the manager there, and arranged for some guru technician to install added equipment that would make the whole thing work. It would take about an hour, and all I had to do was return at the appointed time and sit tight. Skeptical as usual, I returned for the appointment with my laptop, assuming I would be there more than sixty minutes. But I wasn’t. And, wonder of wonder, my Sirius works like a charm. I love it.

There’s an interesting reminder here of how Earl and I work together. As a rule, I’m the detail person, while he is definitely big picture. I’m the organizer and the fixer, while he is the delegator and the check writer. I’d rather figure it out myself than pay someone else.

But just when I’m about to give up, he comes to the rescue; and the Sirius radio project isn’t the first time. I drove him nuts when I bought my first condo and got in a tizzy with the mortgage company. In the end I got a great deal thanks to Earl. Then there was the time we arrived 24 hours late for our reservation at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville where we planned to stay and see the Grand Old Opry. Thanks to a screw-up on my part we missed both. I was most distraught. Earl took it in stride and found a hotel for us without batting an eye or pointing a finger. Today we laugh at the situation.

So thanks, Earl, for coming in when all my nerve goes out. I appreciate you every time I listen to the All Broadway channel without commercial interruption.

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Chase Bank Is Very Sneaky

Posted on August 3, 2007

Earl received a check from our bank today for $9.25. It looked legit, but I decided to read the literature that came with it. Here is what I learned.

It is indeed an honest-to-goodness check, no doubt about it. And cashing it makes the payee eligible for a two percent rebate on all future Chase credit card charges.

The fine print noted, however, that the rebate is only on the first $5000 one charges in a given year. Doing the math means that the most a credit card holder would receive back is $100. Given that Earl and I have no problem charging $5000 annually on our credit card, first glance suggests we’re $109.25 ahead of the game.


But wait! The finer print written on the back of the check reads: “By cashing this check I (meaning the payee) agree to a Trial Offer in ID Secure and understand that the $74.99 semi-annual fee will automatically be charged to my Chase credit card account unless I cancel my membership by calling 1-800-395-4057 before the end of the Trial Offer period.”

What, I wondered, was ID Secure? The finest of fine print revealed it is a program offered by a company named Trilegiant, which isn’t even affiliated with Chase. So I went to the Internet and learned Trilegiant is a thirty-year old company that provides “high-value loyalty and affinity programs to the world’s leading finance service and retail companies.”

Maybe I should be flattered that Chase values my loyalty, but frankly I’m disappointed in the sneaky way the company appears to be giving up $109.25 a year, so it can bill us $74.99 every six months. That’s $149.98 a year! In the grocery world the check and rebate are known as loss leaders. In banking, I’d call it something else.

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Memories

Posted on August 1, 2007

I never listen to Tracy Chapman without thinking of Rachel, my stepdaughter in another life. It was she who introduced me to Tracy when we were all young.

I hadn’t thought of Tracy in years actually, but I found an old CD of hers and transferred it to my iPod, the better to become reacquainted. Then, today I listened to her music as I did my two mile trudge at the health club.

I’ve reason to reconnect with Tracy, as this is the summer that Rachel’s father — my ex-husband — passed away. Without this incident, the odds of Rachel and my communicating were slim. She and I were never kindred spirits, even if we held Tracy Chapman in common. As I did my obligatory treadmill thing, I listened to Tracy and relived long limbo-ed memories.

Rachel was always a floor person. If you opened the door to her bedroom, chances were she was spread on the floor doing homework or some artistic project. She had a desk and chair in the corner, but they were used for warehousing wrinkled clothing and papers returned from various teachers.

She was also an animal person, so her room usually had a distinct odor of gerbil or hamster. Not unpleasant, merely different. One time Rachel and a friend of hers whose name escapes me decided to mate their respective animals; in the appropriate amount of gestation time, babies were born, and our house became a visiting hospital. The challenge was to place the babies into adoptive homes before we had a glut of four legged creatures on our hands. I believe we accomplished it.

I haven’t seen Rachel in almost fifteen years, although she has emailed me several times. But we’ve never made the effort to turn email into personal meeting. Who knows if we ever will? So I still remember her with crimson hair, a proud walk, freckles that made her beautiful instead of plain, and a defiance that probably stands her in good stead now.

Looking back, Tracy Chapman had some of the same qualities; maybe that’s why I like her still today.

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Gadgets Revisited

Posted on July 26, 2007

I’ve written about Earl’s penchant for gadgets before; how our kitchen is stocked with almost every imaginable tool to help in meal preparation. The thing is, however, that gadget companies are always coming up with new ideas. I guess they have to; otherwise, they would eventually go out of business.

So here are some items on Earl’s current gadget wish list along with my solution for solving the same problem, sans gadget.

He wants a cherry pitter, the better to pit cherries I presume. But the only time one needs to actually pit cherries is when they’re going to be part of a pie or a cobbler. Or maybe Cherries Jubilee. For eating them from the bowl, one can pretty much chew around the pit and discard it.

Then there’s the mini burger patty press, a two piece tool that shapes little three inch burgers perfectly. It’s intended for those times when you serve burgers for appetizers or snacks. Personally, I’ve never thought of a burger as either; rather, it’s part of the main course. I use my well-washed hands to shape big half pounders, and save $26 in the deal.

Earl also covets a pineapple corer and an apple peeler, but I can core and slice a pineapple and peel an apple with the same utensil — a well sharpened knife.

I must admit I enjoy looking at catalogs filled with kitchen gadgets as much as Earl does. But I am rarely enticed to buy one. Maybe it’s because I know Earl will find something our kitchen lacks and surprise me with it. And while I pooh pooh most gadgets, he gets the last laugh when I actually begin to use one. Like the garlic press or the mini-whisk. I have substitute solutions for both, but find the gadget in question really saves time.

And finally there is the Martian, so nicknamed because the apparatus looks like a round space ship on legs. In case you’re wondering, the Martian makes wonderful crispy sandwiches, and I have not been able to duplicate its usefulness yet.

Give me time.

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Jane Eyre

Posted on July 25, 2007

My friend Judi and I try to read a book a month together and then discuss it. By default, we’re currently plowing through the 500+ pages of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, first published in 1847, a mere 160 years ago.

We decided to read this classic because we were fed up with some of the best sellers we’d read recently, but not enjoyed. The Memory Keeper’s Daughter is one example of the pablum that passes for literature these days.

It’s been a difficult read, mostly because style of writing in the mid-eighteen hundreds is markedly different from today’s style. It’s more flowery and descriptive. You sometimes have to pick the dialogue out, like a rare treat caught in brambles. I can’t speak for Judi, as we haven’t had our Book of the Month Club discussion yet; however, once I got into the story I found both the plot and the characters of interest. And Jane, the heroine who tells the story, is a most likeable young woman. In a way, Bronte’s book is chick lit before the phrase was coined.

What I admire most, though, is the staying power of Jane Eyre. It’s been a staple in English classes forever, and there are a multitude of editions currently available. I chose one that provided an historical context for the period in which the story takes place. For instance, the first women’s rights convention was held in 1848, only a year after the book’s publication. In this light, Jane’s behavior often went against the conventional wisdom of the time; she was spunky when women were supposed to be docile. She was independent when dependency was the norm.

Maybe it’s because the author created such an unusual character that Jane Eyre is, figuratively, alive and well today. I wonder how many of today’s modern heroines will be around when 2147 greets us?

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John McCain

Posted on July 24, 2007

Last night Earl and I saw Senator John McCain speak at the local college. He was clearly running for president.

Weeks ago, I made up my mind that I will not become involved in the jockeying for presidential position that is currently sweeping both major parties. I’m tuning out anybody else who says he or she is running for that high office, and I don’t plan to pay attention until January 2. There will still be plenty of time to endure the final ten and a half months of negative advertising, dirty campaigns, and accusatory finger pointing that both the Democrats and Republicans seems to revel in.

I went to hear McCain, because the local Economic Club was sponsoring him, and we had purchased tickets last August . . . long before anybody was running. I had hoped he would talk about something other than what he promises to do if elected. I had hoped he would give me some solid information rather than wishy-washy generalities. I had hoped I would come away inspired.

Well, I did come away inspired . . . to continue staying tuned out.

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Talk Grammar to Me

Posted on July 21, 2007

My son Kevin left for his home in Fargo today, but not before we had our usual conversation about the decline in the use of the English language. It was great. But if you hated diagramming sentences in grade school — or if you never diagrammed in the first place — the rest of this essay will be boring. You’ve been warned.

It all started when I commented that the objective first person pronoun “me” is disappearing from the language and being replaced by the subjective first person pronoun “I” in inappropriate places. For instance, when one says, “Kevin and I received the book from Earl” all is well. But when one says, “Earl gave the book to Kevin and I” all is not well. Yet I hear this and similar phrases a lot. Kevin concurred. So I launched into my diatribe about the disappearance of “it” as the third person neuter pronoun and its being replaced with “they.” Kevin came back with an equally intense diatribe about the disappearance of the proper possessive apostrophe and when an A should be an italicized A. He got me on that one.

“And gerunds,” I said. “Nobody uses the possessive with a gerund anymore. It’s disgusting.” “Right,” he agreed. “I usually tell my students to avoid them. And dangling participles too.”

Then we got into the subtle nuances of some verbs like “lie” and “lay” or “hang” and “hang,” followed by the distinction between “between” and “among” and “peak” and “pique.” For the record, people lie down but plates lay on the table. And we hung pictures on the wall when we moved in, but we hanged Saddam Hussein.

Neither Kevin nor I think our passion for the minutiae of grammar is odd, but we know others don’t share this interest. And, truth be told, most people make themselves understood without speaking perfect English; so there is little incentive to correct those dangling participles or unpossessed gerunds.

Next time we’re together I want to discuss the tendency for nouns to become verbs. I’m waiting for someone to say, “I mapquested the route this afternoon.” I’ll roll my eyes, and Kevin will understand.

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Five Easy Pieces

Posted on July 19, 2007

Today I return to piano lessons. I’ve taken a five week hiatus, the first ever since I started with teacher Julia Oberheu going-on six years ago. It’s been strange.

I took the break because I could see that there would be no time to practice during the five weeks in question. I was either traveling or entertaining or both. So, to make it easy on myself, I went on “piano vacation.” This is not to say I didn’t play; I just didn’t practice. There’s a difference.

I spent whatever time I had for piano working on pieces I’d already learned, trying to eke more from them, applying knowledge I’d learned since I worked on them to make them better. It’s an ongoing process. I chose five pieces that still had something to teach me.

In 1970, Jack Nicholson starred in a film called “Five Easy Pieces,” about a former piano prodigy who is estranged from his family. When his father becomes ill, Nicholson decides to return home for a visit. There were five easy classical pieces played throughout the movie. Two were by Chopin; and two were by Mozart, with the remaining one a Bach fugue.

None of my pieces is classical; rather I borrowed from movies and tradition. My pieces were “Over the Rainbow” (The Wizard of Oz), “Hello, Young Lovers (The King and I), “Send in the Clowns” (A Little Night Music), “Amazing Grace,” and “Danny Boy.” I’m no prodigy either, but today I returned to my piano classroom and played for Julia. I’m happy to be back and eager to learn something new.

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Ironing with Tom

Posted on July 18, 2007

This afternoon I spent a couple hours ironing and reacquainting myself with Tom Paxton, a folk singer from the sixties. I’ve ironed a gazillion times since then, but only listened to Paxton occasionally. It should have been the reverse.

I’m motivated to iron because I prefer to wear pressed clothing and not for the love of the activity itself. At the same time, I need to be in the mood to set up the board and fill the iron with water so it can make enough steam. I usually get motivated about once a month. But today I learned a new trick; and it is: Listen to your iPod while you iron. Pretend you’re at a concert and the time flies. This afternoon, I attended a Tom Paxton concert, and it had been a long time since we’d been together.

The particular album I listened to was recorded in 1994. In some ways, it had lost its edge, particularly the topical material about Lorena Bobbitt, Tonya Harding, and the 1994 election. But in other ways it brought back memories of that time and forced me to focus on where I was and what I was doing.

1994. I was two years divorced. It was the year my stepfather died. I moved into Chicago’s central city from the northern suburbs. I fell out of love. I changed jobs. I turned fifty. I learned to rollerblade and got a tattoo.

None of these memories would have revisited me, had I not chosen to listen to Tom Paxton; and had he not mentioned what year it was. I ironed with intent, but listened to Tom even more intently. It was a wonderful trip down Memory Lane. One I can recreate now that I know the trick. Next time the need to iron overcomes me, I think I’ll track down Rod Stewart.

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Chocolate Decadence

Posted on July 17, 2007

When my sons visited two weeks ago I served Pepperidge Farm’s Chocolate Decadence for dessert. It’s a rich chocolate layer cake with equally rich chocolate frosting between the layers and gobs of shaved chocolate on top. We all enjoyed it.


But, since we had had a hearty meal that night, there was about half a cake left; and we never got around to finishing it before my sons departed. Yesterday, I found it languishing under a tent of tinfoil in our refrigerator. I didn’t really have to look to see Chocolate Decadence was way past its prime. As a courtesy, however, I asked Earl if he wanted any before I pitched it.

“No thanks,” he said. “But don’t toss it. I’ll take it to the office. Those animals will eat anything.”

“Are you kidding?” I replied. “I’m not sending stale cake to your office. What would your co-workers think of me?”

“They wouldn’t care; they eat anything,” came the retort. Back and forth we bartered about what to do with the cake. Finally Earl said, “If you won’t let me take it to the office, then at least let me put it on the lawn for the critters.”

I was about to object, but then I remembered that Earl has fed the squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, and opossums that share our land more than one treat. There was the leftover salad that disappeared in the proverbial eye’s wink. There were the dried French rolls that became some animals’ midnight snack. There was the watermelon we didn’t like; but some four legged creature did, although it left the rind. The only thing that didn’t disappear was some soup I brought home from a local restaurant.

“Fine,” I said. “Pitch it out there. But if it is still sitting on the lawn in the morning, then will you agree to put it in the garbage.” Earl nodded affirmatively as he grabbed the cake plate. “And,” I added, “I don’t want the plate left out there.”

So Earl did his thing, dumping the Chocolate Decadence on the lawn and bringing me the plate. He wore his confident smile as he handed it over. This morning, the cake was nowhere to be seen. Which just proves one thing: Those animals will eat anything.

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