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Shameless Cribbing Off Myself....
Mar. 19th, 2021 10:35 pmThat is, of assorted Facebook posts from throughout the day. You don't get original thought after 10 p.m. when I had another bugabear of a day; I just came in from the greenhouse (so Eleanor could get to bed early for a long day tomorrow) while I was trying to finish a virtual Schitt's Creek Geeks Who Drink quiz after screwing up my fourth attempt at accessing an online platform in five days; and police suspect alcohol was involved.
So, in random order:
- This old chestnut of academic hierarchy came back around. I first saw it mimeographed outside a department secretary office at UB Law. Women professors by then had passed token level- probably a quarter to third of the faculty- and their offices were equal to their male peers, including their full names- MARJORIE GIRTH, ISABEL MARCUS, BARBARA BLUMENTHAL- emblazoned outside their doors.
The secretaries on their floors shared offices, and their door plates were CHERI AND AMY, LISA AND MARY. We made jokes about “I’m Cheri- fly me!” from the sexist airline hostess ads of the day. But this was there to remind us: God doesn’t have a last name, either:
----
- Part of one of those technical fails came last night, when I discovered that the author lecture stream did not have a Youtube link to the lecture itself, just to a video on how to link to the lecture. The actual program required a Crowdcast registration, email confirmation and finally forwarding of a browser link, none of which could be managed directly through our so-called smart tv. That meant bringing out a laptop and then me crouching under the television to get the HDMI connection and Bluetooth working. I succeeded, but just as the first words from the Babel series came on- their traditional invocation in which we white people seek blessing and forgiveness from the Six Nations for stealing their land- my left hamstring went into a major leg cramp and I let out a yell heard all the way from here to Kleinhans Music Hall.
I figured it was just the spirit of Red Jacket getting back and saying, "What do you mean WE, paceface?"
----
I followed that up with a second fail when I came home this afternoon to do a Zoom conference, a followup on the first one I ever signed up to host earlier in the week. Pro tip for old dummies: When Zoom has you setup a login and password in your browser, and it offers you a 45 character unhackable password that the browser will remember? It doesn't simultaneously save it in the Zoom app itself. YOU HAVE TO WRITE IT DOWN for the next time the app loads. I didn't, which meant I couldn't start the meeting on time after fumbling around with resets.
----
Right before I left my office to come home for that, I got a very important call. They have been trying to reach me about my car's extended warranty! I accidentally pressed one and got a representative. Since their English did not seem good, I thought they should get a chance to practice, so I chanted into the phone:
I WOULD LIKE.... TO FEED YOUR FINGERTIPS....TO THE WOLVERINES.
Bummer. They hung up.
----
Then came the email that was about as inspiring- the latest in Ray and Eleanor's Adventures in Refinancing.
The underwriters (almost typed underwirers, which makes sense because they're a bunch of boobs;) inquired about our 200ish a month Homeowners Association payment.
We live in a house. Not a condo. No HOA. None ever.
Then I realized: they're probably seeing our monthly Homeowners INSURANCE payment, which is not escrowed. (It also includes auto and liability insurance, which is why it's so damn high.)
I shared this with a coworker and got a sympathetic eyeroll. "Boy, Ray, this is tough for you guys."
I replied: "OF COURSE IT IS. EVERY refi we've ever done has been like this. Our three purchases and two sales were like this. This is why I don't even represent people in real estate deals anymore. I'm cursed. I'm an Indian burial ground with feet!"
I wonder what Tonto would say in response to that.
----
By the end of the day, the annoyances had driven me to drink, and the urge just got worse in the liquor store:
From a friend who used to be in the liquor distribution business: Classe.
My reply: only if it’s from the Classe region of France. Otherwise, labeling regulations require you call it “sparkling stupid.”
----
As they say down at the liquor store, Good'e " night.
So, in random order:
- This old chestnut of academic hierarchy came back around. I first saw it mimeographed outside a department secretary office at UB Law. Women professors by then had passed token level- probably a quarter to third of the faculty- and their offices were equal to their male peers, including their full names- MARJORIE GIRTH, ISABEL MARCUS, BARBARA BLUMENTHAL- emblazoned outside their doors.
The secretaries on their floors shared offices, and their door plates were CHERI AND AMY, LISA AND MARY. We made jokes about “I’m Cheri- fly me!” from the sexist airline hostess ads of the day. But this was there to remind us: God doesn’t have a last name, either:
----
- Part of one of those technical fails came last night, when I discovered that the author lecture stream did not have a Youtube link to the lecture itself, just to a video on how to link to the lecture. The actual program required a Crowdcast registration, email confirmation and finally forwarding of a browser link, none of which could be managed directly through our so-called smart tv. That meant bringing out a laptop and then me crouching under the television to get the HDMI connection and Bluetooth working. I succeeded, but just as the first words from the Babel series came on- their traditional invocation in which we white people seek blessing and forgiveness from the Six Nations for stealing their land- my left hamstring went into a major leg cramp and I let out a yell heard all the way from here to Kleinhans Music Hall.
I figured it was just the spirit of Red Jacket getting back and saying, "What do you mean WE, paceface?"
----
I followed that up with a second fail when I came home this afternoon to do a Zoom conference, a followup on the first one I ever signed up to host earlier in the week. Pro tip for old dummies: When Zoom has you setup a login and password in your browser, and it offers you a 45 character unhackable password that the browser will remember? It doesn't simultaneously save it in the Zoom app itself. YOU HAVE TO WRITE IT DOWN for the next time the app loads. I didn't, which meant I couldn't start the meeting on time after fumbling around with resets.
----
Right before I left my office to come home for that, I got a very important call. They have been trying to reach me about my car's extended warranty! I accidentally pressed one and got a representative. Since their English did not seem good, I thought they should get a chance to practice, so I chanted into the phone:
I WOULD LIKE.... TO FEED YOUR FINGERTIPS....TO THE WOLVERINES.
Bummer. They hung up.
----
Then came the email that was about as inspiring- the latest in Ray and Eleanor's Adventures in Refinancing.
The underwriters (almost typed underwirers, which makes sense because they're a bunch of boobs;) inquired about our 200ish a month Homeowners Association payment.
We live in a house. Not a condo. No HOA. None ever.
Then I realized: they're probably seeing our monthly Homeowners INSURANCE payment, which is not escrowed. (It also includes auto and liability insurance, which is why it's so damn high.)
I shared this with a coworker and got a sympathetic eyeroll. "Boy, Ray, this is tough for you guys."
I replied: "OF COURSE IT IS. EVERY refi we've ever done has been like this. Our three purchases and two sales were like this. This is why I don't even represent people in real estate deals anymore. I'm cursed. I'm an Indian burial ground with feet!"
I wonder what Tonto would say in response to that.
----
By the end of the day, the annoyances had driven me to drink, and the urge just got worse in the liquor store:
From a friend who used to be in the liquor distribution business: Classe.
My reply: only if it’s from the Classe region of France. Otherwise, labeling regulations require you call it “sparkling stupid.”
----
As they say down at the liquor store, Good'e " night.