Monday, August 31, 2009

I Love TSA

Travelling to Florida Friday, going to meet the Captain. I am on a plane oh, about 2x a month it seems. So the security thing? No brainer. [unlike the sweet older lady today who apparently hasn't heard you can't bring bottled water or any liquids over 3.4 ounces through security. She didn't see the 48 signs, hear the 16 announcements, or read a newspaper in the last 3 years since that rule was implemented...]

I get pulled at BWI for what seems a random detailed check. OK no problem, I have time, they're doing their job. So I stand in this funky machine while they take some kind of something - I later decide it was some kind of xray and someone is sitting remotely reviewing it.

Now remember I'm going to see the Captain. So I'm wearing leeeetle white capris, with no pockets, rather nicely fitting if you know what I mean. And a very little sweater cut rather low "my eyes blue" that gets its fair share of, um attention. Sleeveless. And beaded flip flops.

In other words, not a lot of places to hide anything.

So I point to my two bags and random junk on the xray belt and say, "Do you need me to identify my stuff so you can review it?" And Mr. TSA says, "Oh no, just hang here a minute and you'll be done." Then I hear a voice on his radio and he responds, "No - no pockets. Those are buttons." and he smiles and says, "you're free to go."

SO what, I was hiding plastic explosives in my buttons? Perhaps a file in my bra?

I giggled all the way to Florida where I shared my story with the Captain who took one look at my outfit and said, "Oh yeah, you're really hiding a LOT in there!"

Thursday, August 27, 2009

The New Pulitzer Winner....

Finally, something worth blogging about.

A colleague sent this link to me today. No kidding, someone actually used a cut-out bear on a news report. Because, yeah, that made the story more believable. Please watch this through - yes that's the reporter running across the yard behind the cutout bear. And look carefully as it "climbs the tree." Are we kindergartners? Oh wait, even they wouldn't believe this.....

The New Pulitzer

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Treatise On Warranties and Verbal Guarantees

Are you really stopping to read this? What a boring title. Either you are really bored or a devoted follower. Because I am pretty sure I have none of the latter, trust me, there are more exciting things to do with your life than read a treatise.

Oh but who am I to judge, so read on....

(Yeah I lied, I'm not smart enough to write a treatise anyway)

Back when I got suckered convinced to buy my little blue EOS toy along with the sensible Honda Pilot for the kids (what, I never told the story of buying two cars in one day?)

I also got suckered convinced to buy a "scratch and dent" warranty along with it. For a mere $800 I was "guaranteed" 4 years of door ding and annoying scratch coverage - Bent Rims? Not a problem, new rims delivered. Scrape the side backing out of the garage? No worries, it's covered. Someone park a little too close? Yeah we fix that.

Fast forward 20 months. Right rear wheel-well/fender seems to have a "garage" scrape. No I did not do it but she-who-shall-remain-nameless knows who did.... There are a couple door-dings. The rear has a Parking Scrape from someone who got a little too friendly one Saturday night. Time to invest time for a repair.

Gee, what a surprise, the used car dealer where I bought my cars is out of business in this economy. Not to worry, a call to the 800-number on the warranty and they send a repair man to my house. OH yeah, this is good.

OK maybe not so good. Seems my cute little EOS is a whole lot of plastic. Plastic bumpers that wrap from wheel to wheel. And gee, guess what the warranty doesn't cover? If you guessed bumpers give yourself 5 points.

Fortunately, the lovely young man who came to fix my car is capable, customer-service oriented and, apparently, terrified of lawyers. And he's smart. First he fixed 372 scratches and door-dings I didn't realize I had. Magic? I think so. Something about compound and buffers and perhaps some voo-doo. The car was smokin' oh all except for the large scrape on the right rear fender. Helloo can we say verbal guarantee? Promises? Detrimental reliance? Unjust Enrichment? Consumer Protection Act? FTC? Pissed-off hormonal red-head? (hell one of those has to work, right?)

Guess who is coming back Monday with some Factory/Dealer match paint and a few tricks up his sleeve to fix the little - ahem - scuff mark on the fender?

I love a smart and scared subcontractor with a sense of justice....

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

TRYING to Notice things Like A Lunar Eclipse

While not blogging this summer I have been focusing on other things. Repositioning my mind, my spirit.

Yes stopping to smell the Roses.

Cleaning out Clutter and Closets and Crap.

(Note to all and Google and etc, I Borrowed this Google Image of Clutter, my house is not yet that bad....)

And so Tonight the Captain said, "Lunar Eclipse." Because the Captain is all stars and moons and pays attention to stuff like that. He was going to take his local crew for a moonlight sail to watch the eclipse. I was happy for him but yes a little blue because I wanted to be there not here. But Oh well. So I followed Captain's Orders and googled "lunar eclipse time washington DC" and all variations thereof, but could not figure out what time I could see the eclipse.

(Ok ok I swiped this one, too, from Google)

Then I had a brain storm, Go Outside and Look for the Moon.

And I saw clouds.

OH well, I'd rather be here anyway.....

Monday, August 3, 2009

They Call This Security

After a year of walking past the kiosks every few weeks in the Airport, I finally succumbed to a Southwest Visa card - looks like I will continue to need to fly south ;-)

Tonight I made the obligatory call to activate the card. Surprisingly, a human answered the phone! In activating the card, I gave a password - let's say "SMITH." So 13 seconds later I said, "Can I change the email address on the card because I gave an incorrect address when I signed up." And the lovely young man with a clipped English/Indian accent, dutifully reading from his script said, "I will need you to verify your password in order to change that information."

Huh? You mean the password I just made up 15.5 seconds ago? OK. I'm pretty sure I remember - it's SMITH. Yep, everything's secure. I'm me - still.

And so it goes....