I am in such a mood that the fact the post title will stop many people from reading is no deterrent to my writing this post today. Speaking of not reading…the first installment of “Threes And Sevens” was met with indifference. It had easily the fewest views of any of the first eight posts I published this month. In fact, if it hadn’t been for an unusual number of referrals from Twitter and the “obligatory” few searches by people who still don’t seem to know that Cristy Lee is no longer part of Barrett-Jackson broadcasts, Saturday would have produced the fewest views for a day with a post in well over two years.
Only Mark offered a comment on Threes And Sevens: 1927. (Note: Dirty Dingus McGee sent a comment that I didn’t see until after I published this post.) I welcome thoughtful comments and they don’t all have to be complimentary. I know some things about automobiles, but I sure as hell don’t know everything. NO ONE knows everything about anything. Albert Einstein spent the last 20 years of his life chasing a unified field theory. Basically, the only way people can learn is to acknowledge that they don’t know everything.
For nine years my wonderful wife and I used Ooma for VOIP (Voice Over Internet Protocol) service. To be honest, for the first two years Ooma didn’t work that well as it habitually dropped calls. After many discussions with their tech “help” one “high-level” technical assistant changed one setting in a parameter file and that solved the issue. We thought about dropping Ooma many times during those first two years, but didn’t want to go back to using the local cable company who had been charging us three times as much for phone service. As for why we felt we needed a VOIP connection, we lived in a house with a poor cell phone signal due to all of the tall trees and, frankly, I just didn’t want to leave my connection to the world subject to the vagaries of cellular communication.
A little more than a week ago our original Ooma box began to fail as we were unable to retrieve voice mail. I thought nothing of using Ooma’s website to order a replacement. The new box arrived Saturday. Despite being on the phone for hours on Saturday and Sunday with many “customer service” representatives and “high-level” technical assistants, the box simply would not work. The last straw was waiting for a half hour yesterday in an effort to speak with an assistant without ever reaching one.
I hung up, called back and after waiting more than 20 minutes was finally connected to a “customer service” representative. I told them I had had enough and wanted to return the new box for a full refund and to close my Ooma account. This rep offered to connect me to a supervisor. I basically said, “What good would that do at this point?” Long story short, as soon as Ooma processes the return of the box (thankfully, the closest UPS store is open on Sunday), our Ooma account should be closed.
I am just sick and tired of companies that are staffed by people who can’t do anything except read from a script, by people who don’t really want to work and who don’t care about their jobs. I am sick and tired of every day handing me another obstacle. Once again, I realize I am not living in Ukraine or starving in Africa. I am still mentally worn out from dealing with crap every single f*cking day.
Another reason this day has me in a foul mood as it was on April 11, 2011 that I began my stint working at a large financial services firm. My tenure there lasted 288 calendar days.
I hated that job. If it hadn’t been for the fact that my wonderful wife also worked there so we commuted together and ate lunch together almost every day, I wouldn’t have lasted 28 days. If that position is representative of life in corporate America, then companies are complicit in the poor morale and apathy of most workers.
This day is also another painful reminder that I was never able to establish a rewarding and fulfilling career after my 20+ years in baseball. That’s a significant reason why this blog is important to me and why it is disappointing when readership numbers fall short.
Speaking of complicity…although my self-inflicted sunburn is finally showing signs of healing, I am pissed off to no end in my complicity and stupidity in getting sunburned in the first place. This experience is making me reconsider my plan to completely shave my head in preparation for the Arizona summer.
Maybe this will make me smile:
On the other hand, this picture is another reminder of the constraints in my life. At least for now, I basically have to choose between buying something like this, which will mean a higher insurance premium, or having the second and final tune for my Z06, which will cost much more initially, but will not mean a larger insurance bill, will save me money on gas as I will be able to go back to 91 Octane fuel and should give the car about 1,000 HP at the crank. I hear you: “first-world problems…” At present, words are inadequate to describe how much I yearn for an unconstrained life, even if for just a month. Yes, I know: EVERYTHING in life involves trade-offs.
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