Nov. 30th, 2020

captainsblog: (Goat)

Clearly, 2020's determined not to go gently, at least this chapter 11 of it. Although I did get my one remaining real Chapter 11 off my docket without too much pain before November's end, today was just a cluster of mishaps that reminded me just how much fun this entire year has been.

A few weeks ago, we got a certified letter from the gas company. Most of Buffalo is unique among all the places I've lived in having separate utilities for gas and electric. They even have similar names now: current comes from the international conglomerate National Grid, while the heat is provided by the locally based National Fuel. Separate supply lines, separate billing, and, to today's point, separate meters.  The electric one's has had a wireless transmitter on it for years (as does the water meter, yet another separate entity), so it never has to be read by us or a meter reader on the premises, and it has been replaced over the years a few times, most recently when the solar panels went up. But Irrational Fool, as I like to call them, still has a clunky old manual odometer-style meter in our garage, dating to 1990 per a tag on it. Somehow, despite Eleanor being here most mornings and even more of them now that she's working fewer part-time hours, and me being home more since COVID, the gas company can go months without getting a meter reader into the garage to check the figure. They'll leave a hangtag even if the damn door's open if we don't hear the doorbell. So when our bill due this month was $100 over the usual budget amount, I figured it was the annual adjustment of the budget plan, and all the bill said was "billing adjustment."

Until the certified letter showed up. The extra Benjamin was a fine- because we had not scheduled a safety inspection of our indoor meter. No call, nothing on the bill explaining what it would be or was once charged, but now a stern reprimand from Mama Rotten Egg Smell telling us we HAD to have this inspection and would be charged ANOTHER C-note every month until we did it- but that once it was inspected, the previous charge would come off.

Fine. So they sent this out in I imagine October, in the middle of political junk mail season with the Post Office struggling to mail ballots back and forth? Smooth move.  I immediately called- on my birthday, no less- and today was the appointed day for our morning-but-it-could-be-any-time-before-noon appointment.

I actually remembered, and was up and dressed. Once Eleanor was the same, I took the dog for the demanded daily walkies. Pepper had spent an enjoyable morning Saturday snarling at a red-nosed reindeer-



- and Sunday on a trail near us-



but that counts for nuthin once she needs to go out now in the rain.  A call came in from an 800 number while we walked; no message, but as we turned a corner and our house came back in sight, there was the blue-and-orange trim of one of the gas company vans heading toward, and then past, our house.  No shame there; hardly anyone catches it on the first try, as it's the second house on the street and the number's not lit up in glaring neon.  We walked closer and I waited to see if he would double back from around the bend. Sure enough, when we were about two houses away from home, I went into a little kabuki dance of pointing at our driveway- which he sailed right by a second time.  And then a third back down the wrong way.  By now I figured who the 800 number belonged to, and after close to five minutes of annoying please-wait messages, I got a human being, explained that Wrong-Way Corrigas was somewhere down our street, and she said she'd call the dispatcher with the description of the house. 

Three hours later, still nobody. When it reached the end of the appointment window, I called again, this time getting a dude who looked it up. HIS story was that there was nobody home.  Um, (A) there was (Eleanor), and (B) I was practically levitating the guy into my garage. Nope, he replied, if you don't answer the phone we assume you're not home.  Which means the whole ordeal is now pushed back to THURSDAY morning- same Gas-time, same Gas-channel. I am taking the phone with me and laying down spikes in the middle of the road if I have to.

For a moment, I wondered if this was somehow balancing the scheduling weirdness of the previous Monday, when an afternoon client in Rochester didn't show because she thought we'd scheduled for the following day. (We hadn't.) That snafu had its own balance today, though. For once I was unleashed from the house and went into the office, I was catching up on some paperwork when someone came in and announced that Your 4:00 appointment is here. My 4:00 HUH? Well, this turned out to be the very nice client who I did indeed have a 4:00 appointment with, in my brain and on my calendar and on the conference room schedule.

Tomorrow.

Fortunately, other people didn't need the room. Less fortunately, I had been working on her stuff at home over the long weekend and didn't have the updated versions with me. We cobbled together as much as we could and set it all to be finalized tomorrow after all- after I get back from bringing the kittens in for their final vaccinations and checkouts of their poop conditions.  Both have had, um, issues over the past week, not that it's slowed the crazy boy down any, and Boz the cute orange one seems to be doing better, too.

----

Updates of some things from recent posts:

- The guy mentioned in the Times article who was running the protest against the shutdown of gyms and other businesses?



Yeah, he made Fox News while waiting for Duck Dynasty to be recast. Because of course he did. He also made our local paper twice in the past two days- once, for it coming out that he responded to a client of Indian descent with a hate and racist-bomb-filled email. (Link to it here, but very unsafe and triggery.) Then he was announced as the lead plaintiff in yet another lawsuit against "King Cuomo" for his burdensome COVID regulations. He tried explaining the email as a misunderstanding, since, you see, all spam comes from India and he thought he was giving the business to a bad guy.

(BTW, our neighbor quoted in the Times piece has also been heard complaining that gyms aren't allowed to be open when other businesses are.   Sorry, but when I go to Wegmans or wait in line for takeout, I am not sweating profusely or breathing heavily or being "spotted" by other sweaty-breathy people less than a foot from me. The gym I was going to was anal about sanitizing even before COVID; cut their capacity by half or more and shortened workouts to enable full cleanings between sessions; and is now running virtual workouts that do not jeopardize other people to the risks of asymptomatic transmission.)

- I'm almost caught up with Star Trek Discovery, and discovered my first crossover between there and Schitt's Creek:



And even though that episode ran several weeks before I noticed it, I was the first viewer to note the connection in the IMDB trivia section for the episode:

Second straight series in which Karen Robinson plays a government official, following her six years as a Town Council member on Schitt's Creek.

Alas, nobody's found it interesting yet:(

- Don't think I have mentioned it recently, but this morning resumed play in the Learned League season I'm signed up for. I've done well so far this time as we round the far turn, and tomorrow am up against a good friend for the first time who I invited to join earlier this year. Both LL, and another formerly live trivia competition I've played called Geeks Who Drink, made a much nicer Times article that ran over the weekend- about how "pub quizzes" and other online competitions have adjusted to life without actual in-person interaction (read: beer).

----

See you next month. Or, the way things are going, see you last month;)

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