My friend Daniel discovered that that a person, for some unexplainable reason, had translated my March 22, 2009 post into Polish. It's rather interesting, and fun. The AmeriNZ post Truth is the real victim is translated as Prawda jest prawdziwą ofiarą. Gordon's post, partially about me, is Moja nagroda dla osiągnięcia Post # 1285. Johnny Bacardi, whose birthday was yesterday (oops) recently wrote Spójrz na moje prace, o wy, potężny i chichot. Część 37, which, of course means, Gaze upon my works, o ye mighty, and snicker. Part 37.
I told some of you that my 19-year-old niece was getting married and that I first learned about it by reading her Facebook page. Well, she isn't getting married; she's just in LOVE, and got too exuberant. Which just goes to show that you can't believe everything on the Internet, even from someone's Facebook page.
Some woman called our house looking for someone. No big deal - a wrong number. No big deal except it was 1:30 a.m. I wasn't asleep, but my wife was, and the phone is in the bedroom. So I ran in there.
WOMAN: Is this the Toyota center.
ME: No, ma'm, it's not. You've got...
WOMAN: I'm looking for Ted. You know him?
ME: No, there's no Ted here. You've...
WOMAN: He's a tall man.
ME: Lady, you've got the wrong number.
WOMAN: Ted's not there right now? OK.
And she hung up.
It occurred to me that I have her phone number and sometime at 1:30 a.m., I could call...nah, I wouldn't do that. I can THINK about it though, can't I?
Weird thing happened a couple weeks ago with our front door lock. Our contractor was putting needed insulation in our attic. He locked the door, but apparently in such a way that when my wife and daughter got home from the grocery store, they couldn't unlock the front door. The daughter was playing outside in the snow without gloves, against her mother's wishes, and the wife was afraid that the child was going to get frostbite. Her cellphone had run down, so she just drove over to my office and called me from the lobby , about a half hour before I would have taken the bus home for the day. I went home, had to both squeeze the door handle and turn the lock simultaneously to get inside.
So I'm telling this story to a guy I knew, and he bristled. He wouldn't want his wife just showing up at his place of work. But I knew that my wife is quite self-sufficient and if she thought she really needed my help, of course I'd give it to her. I thought the guy's reaction was rather peculiar, actually, or else it spoke of the nature of his relationship with his wife.
Oh, and speaking of cell phones, which I sorta was, I got an e-mail message from my provider - let's call it Virgin Mobile - with an e-mail on December 27 that I needed to "top up" my cell phones. OK, so I do, and I get confirmation on December 29. On January 2 and again on the 3rd, I get a message that I need to top up my cell phone. Apparently, they had topped up one but not the other, though the messages had indicated that I topped up neither. Don't know why this peeved me so. I think it's the happy, recorded speech on their phone lines, and a phone menu that simply did not address my particular problem. (Dial 8 for We Screwed up.)
As a business librarian, I often have the need to call the NYS Department of State, Division of Corporations. They're a fine group of citizens. However, twice during the phone menu before I can reach a person, I get details about their impending move from 41 State Street to 99 Washington Avenue...in 2008. PLEASE change the menus of your phones.
I was watching JEOPARDY! at the end of 2009, and he wondered aloud whether the champion at the end of 2009, and continuing in 2010, would have his income taxed under each year. Well, unless they change their procedures, unless he stuck arounde like Ken Jennings, it would be for the latter year. When I was on, the show was taped in September 1998, the show aired in November 1998, but the check didn't arrive until March 1999, so it was taxable for 1999. You'd think the host of the show for a quarter century would know that. Or maybe he was just making conversation.
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