Sunday, January 30, 2011

Left to my Own Devices...

So here's what happened today. After sleeping an amazing 11 hours, I awakened to the shower making the noise that showers make, when it's not you using the shower. I looked at the time and it was 10 AM, precisely. I brushed my teeth and made a pot of coffee, when Julie came into the kitchen, said good morning and reminded me that I had promised to buy her a nice thank you breakfast. She really did break her neck, helping me orchestrate this move. A couple of eggs over easy was a low price to pay for her expertise.

As promised, we came home and I began the tedious task of making the pool table available for a game of pool. It currently had 35 years of my clothing laying upon it. That's kind of a funny way of describing the pile the movers created, but that's exactly what it was. 35 years of birthdays, and Christmas's and Halloweens and Valentine's Days. Plus tons of stuff I just bought for myself. Most of it hasn't been worn in years. Some were too big and most were too small. They all had to go! Without playing favorites, anything that had a pleat or never looked good or had a stain that wouldn't come out. Some things had never been worn, like the purple dress shirt and tie that some crazy woman gave me one year for my birthday or the tank top I bought once, just to talk to the cashier at a store. Out, you go!

Julie took off to go hiking and left me alone for the afternoon. It was a nice day. I enjoyed the solitude too. At about 12:15 my phone rang, something it hasn't done for a couple of days. It was a guy calling about my roll top desk. I explained that it was indeed still for sale, but I had already moved and it was tucked away in my storage locker. My storage locker turned out to be 5 minutes from where he lived and 15 from me. He was pleased to drive over. I was asking $200 for it and the money sounded good after paying the movers to help me. I arrived at the location right on time and he wasn't there. I called him and he assured me he was 5 minutes away still. Thankfully, he did show up in a 4 wheel drive pick up truck, always a good sign when you're selling furniture. I opened the sliding door and looked inside that mess and audibly announced the F word. The mother was buried deep inside in it's final resting place. Let's call my buyer Buck. Buck said it was not problem and began moving furniture to get to it. It was my 400 LB Oak wall unit that should have burned up in a fire, that gave him the most trouble, but it created desire on his part, to finally free the roll top desk. He did a bunch of hmmming and ummming and finally said, will ya take $150 cuz there's another one just like it for $125 and he actually showed me the ad that he had printed and sure as shit, there was one. Thinking fast, (something I seldom do anymore) I said, I should probably pay YOU a hundred just to take it. (threw him off balance) and I finished with a, $175 will take it though. He reached in his pocket and gave me the cash. (Don't try this at home).

We lifted the desk into his truck and he was gone. When I got back to the house, I looked for Paws to tell him of the sale, but he wanted nothing to do with me and I still had that lump on the pool table to deal with. So it was back to work, when suddenly Paws appeared from his closet where he lives in LJ's bedroom and he searched for her. When he didn't see her, and in spite of the fact that the sliding doors were both wide open, he stood there and peed where he stood, as if to say, I'll show her for leaving me with this jerk! Somehow, I felt like I was in trouble. I've got a lot of splaining to do when Lucy gets home!

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Moving Day

Moving day brought a warning of an early arrival. The movers insisted upon arriving at 8 AM against my better judgement, but were determined to get me out of bed at the ungodly hour of 7 AM. I haven't seen 7 AM since I was a member of the work force. LJ phoned me promptly at 7, at my request, but I was already in the shower. I called her back and explained that everything was under control (or so I thought). That was about when the movers called to explain they were running late. 8:45 was now the estimated time of arrival. So much for an early start. My previous move went without a hitch, so I was more than pleased to use the same movers, but this duet were not as ambitious as the 2 guys last year.

Vince was the brains of the outfit and his sidekick was a rather plump boy of about 20 years of age, Kevin. I got to know more about Kevin than I ever planned on knowing, but he was one of those kids that wore his pants too low and his butt crack and I got way too familiar. Julie even remarked about it. They were slow, clumsy and not too creative. Vince decided to be the comedian and told me jokes at $75 an hour. Not one brought a legitimate laugh.

The Lovely Jules showed up about 9 AM and went on a donut run. Moving was stressful and it didn't help that the movers left 2 truck loads of my things at the old house when they announced they were ready to go to the storage locker, our first stop. I should have checked. They unloaded and once again Vince took the lead and showed Keven how a real mover works, on my ticket! Second stop. Julie's house and by now we were heading towards 2 PM. More unloading and more confusion. It was like trying to fit 20 LB of sand in a 10 LB bag. Kevin the klutz unloaded all of my clothes onto the pool table and the picture I took gives you a general idea of what it's like around here. My job tomorrow is to attempt to put all of those clothes into 2 little closets. I guess I'll be visiting Goodwill with a rather large donation.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Moving Eve...

On this eve of the day before moving, I realize that I've married women with less forethought than I've given this move. Is it my age or position in life that concerns me, or the fact that I'm stressing over selling and giving away half or better of my possessions. When a marriage breaks up, you lose half of your things. I'm losing my stuff up front and getting a Costco wife and I'm pretty sure that's not the same! I've been living alone for about 9 years now and living with the Lovely Jules is likely to shake things up a bit. That won't be a bad thing. So we both go forward, stressing the way that people that are used to having their own way do, but everything is going to be just fine because frankly, it just feels right.

As I picked up my ironing board and put it into LJ's truck that I've had all week, I knew she'd say something about her already having one, but what was I supposed to do with mine? When I got there, LJ helped me unload and when she got to the ironing board, she did just what I expected, almost word for word. I just explained it was for the garage sale! It will be fine, you'll see!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Nigerian Project...

With all of my efforts on Craig's List, placing ads everyday and waiting for the phone to ring. Dealing with the people that text "Is your "Item" still for sale" and you reply yes and hear nothing in return, I only got one single call that amounted to anything and finally, 36 hours later they showed up. All six of them. It kind of went like this.

When I awakened Saturday morning, there was one missed call that didn't leave a message. About an hour later, I was sipping coffee and decided to call the anonymous caller and explain that I got a message that he'd called. He answered and I immediately identified him as a youthful Hispanic, about 22 years old. A demographic that I rather enjoy dealing with. To get rid of me, he said he'd call me in an hour when he's ready to come out and see the bedroom set I'd advertised. I had no expectation of ever hearing from him again. About 3 hours later, the kid called again asked for instructions on how to find me, as he and his lady friend were coming my way. I gave him instructions and he and his girl appeared about another hour later. He was a tall youthful African-American man, about 22 and very polite and she was a Caucasian girl that never pushed herself away from the table in time. Cool, my first inter-racial couple. They were both very pleasant and I enjoyed their company for a few minutes, when he announced that he was doing a little front work for his aunt that was the real buyer, but she would take his word for it, that everything was quite nice. My own experience with people, is that when they spend a lot of time explaining why they are going to come back another time, you NEVER see them again. Human nature. As much as I liked this couple, I never expected to see them again. They were supposed to call me about 7 PM when Auntie got home from work. The call never came. Today, at about 10 AM, I replaced my ads because that's what you have to do on Craig's List and was relaxing from my full week of packing. At about 1 PM, I got a call from an elderly woman explaining she was the aunt I had been waiting for, but she would call me later to tell me when she was coming. After the Bears/Green Bay game, I looked at the clock and thought of her and decided she wasn't coming. At about 5 PM, the 22 year old Nigerian lad that I mistook for Hispanic called and said they were about 30 minutes away.

He didn't say he wanted to look this time, but he expressed himself by saying he wanted to "pick up" the bedroom set, so I was busy emptying the drawers and stripping the sheets and bedspread. They arrived, sans the chubby girl, about 6 of them. All very nice, all from Nigeria and all as pleasant as could be. One lady, an MD expressed herself very well and seemed to be the family leader. She was the negotiator. I felt that to explain my background in used car sales to be counterproductive, so I picked up my transient cat and pet my way to non-negotiating. How in the world do you get tough with a humble man petting a kitten? They caved and paid the asking price, but I offered them my old 27 inch TV that I remember buying in 1987. It worked fine, but did have a hand crank.

About that time, another of the ladies announced that she just bought a house and it's completely empty. She made the mistake of asking me what else I might consider selling. I pointed out the solid Oak wall unit that I bought when Columbus discovered this great land and the Oak table with the four Oak chairs, the tan leather sofa that the dogs somehow spared. a rocking chair that I haven't sat in since Brad was a baby. Each item the lady counter offered on and after the first time, I realized it was just her game and I didn't have to come down a penny. I stood firm and she kept saying, "I'll take it"! It was fun!

Someone called a friend with a truck and I almost got them to take the cat, but they backed out at the last minute. The little lady that did all the buying is supposed to call me in the morning to make arrangements to pick up her stuff. I hope she calls, I really liked them.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Escapee Apprehended in Glendale Parking Lot...

Paws is the Dude on the right.

Today was a sort of exciting day for this man, who seems to have been moving all of his life. I arrived at LJ's house with a load of kitchen plants, the contents of my kitchen junk drawer and the flying bitch, a statue that has been on one plant shelf or another for the past 20 years. She now sits at the side of Julie's swimming pool looking anticipatory. When the Lovely Jules left my old house yesterday, she looked into my freezer and spotted 2 packages of frozen spare ribs that she swiftly carried out my door, looking back and saying we'll have ribs tomorrow! As the door slammed closed, I believe I yelled, "Okay", but she was already on her way home with one of my leftover car lot cars.

As I walked in her kitchen door, I distinctly smelled ribs cooking and found LJ sitting in our 78 degree sun chatting on the phone with Professor M. I didn't ask, but could tell by the smile on her face. Pawpaw was sunning himself in what will eventually be my room. Paws is about 20 years old and looks as old as any dog I've ever seen. He seems to have aged quite a bit in the last year or so and can just barely make it around the house. He wobbles and falls a lot, but still has the attitude of a young pup and still goes into the pool on a regular basis, even in the colder weather. I laugh as Julie tries to lift him out of the pool, the only part he can't quite do himself.

I unloaded and chatted when LJ got off the phone and listened to her events of the day. I was kind of doing my own thing when Julie came running into the garage asking if I'd seen Paws, he's gone! Gone, I said, where did he go? Dumb question. Julie was frantic looking everywhere. She leaves the service door from the garage into the backyard open a lot and I had the garage door open and when Paws saw his chance and no one was around, evidently he just sneaked out. LJ was freaking out! She hopped into her truck that I had just finished unloading and took off looking for him. Not knowing what else to do, I jumped into my car and drove off in the opposite direction to search. I got about 5 blocks and surmised that Paws probably couldn't make it any farther than that and I circled back. As I returned to the house, I saw Julie pulling into the driveway and yelled, "Did you find him"? She nodded yes and hopped out of her truck. She yelled that she found him down at the Safeway Shopping Center about a mile away, just laying on the sidewalk, watching traffic pass by. He evidently fell and couldn't get back up. That''s when I noticed that LJ was bleeding from her hand and leg. I asked what happened and how she got hurt. Looking up from lifting that 100 LB goofball out of her truck, she smiled and said, "He put up a fight"!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Someone Stole My Box-o-Booze!

If you've been reading this blog, then you're probably aware of the fact that I'm moving out of this dump. I rented it under duress while searching for an entire day for suitable accommodations. I picked it quickly, but never really liked the neighborhood or the house. I particularly disliked the home owner that I rented from. He was just one of those engineer types that had zero personality and a full beard. Big fat fucker too.

If you've been following my life in any possible way, you are probably aware of the fact that I'm a recovered alcoholic. I say "recovered" because I was left a shadow of my former self, lying on a hospital gurney, after open heart surgery. It was on that gurney that I decided to completely stop drinking alcoholic beverages in any way shape or form. It will be 6 years since I made that decision, in a few days, Jan. 23rd.

So when I moved into this dump, I took all of the alcoholic beverages in my house and put them in a cardboard box and stored them in the garage. It felt kind of nice knowing that the booze was out there, yet had no control over me in any way. Proof is that I never noticed when someone, without permission, entered my garage and stole my box-o-booze. Whoever took it, made an excellent choice, because including all of the junk I've stored in boxes, that was my most least proud possession. Actually, if I had found the box in question, my intention was to throw it all away anyhow, creating one box less to move.

So, to my most recent thief, I thank you!

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Stop Thief !.!.!

If you're a lion tamer or a shark wrestler, chances are my day wasn't terribly interesting to you, but to me it was ............different. My plan was to get a new battery for my Toyota, as that's the car that LJ is most comfortable driving when I borrow her truck, which she has been gracious enough to loan me on a regular basis for my move. The battery in the Toyota is not really acting up, but it just doesn't seem perfect when you go to start it and I suspect that it's time is about up and I'd hate for it to crap out when LJ is using it.

So I headed over to Costco, remembering that the battery for my Corvette was only $54, so the battery for a Toyota ought to be about free! Well, a couple of years has passed since I'd bought the Corvette battery and I was surprised to see that the price for their number 3 rated battery was 69 smackeroos! But it wasn't all that easy. If you know the layout of Costco, you know that the batteries are way at the back of the store, just before the bakery section. When I got there, they were gone! All, just gone. With a puzzled look on my face, I approached an employee and inquired and he said they put them in the Tire Store up front. Naturally, only about 2 blocks away! As I trudge on forward to the front of the store, I realize that the tire section is in the very entrance to the store and it isn't accessible from anywhere but the entrance, which is not available to patrons that are already inside the confines of the store. With 2 loafs of bread in my cart, along with a new book by Nelson DeMille, I approach the woman that checks your membership card to ask permission to walk out of the store, to walk right back in, to go to the Tire Store. With a very serious look on her face I am denied! She explains that she is NOT allowed to permit anyone to do that. I tell her I'm gonna make a run for it and if she wants to, to call 911. With that, I bolted out the door and right back in and looked back at her and said, I warned you! With a rather soiled look on her face, she turned and continued checking membership cards. She'll NEVER mess with the Fish again!

After a rather messy installation, that I won't bore you with, I finally got the mother into the Toyota successfully. I called the Lovely Jules and warned her that I was coming. she told me that she cooked for me a few little things. She greeted me and I carried a few things in and LJ helped. Julie has not stopped eating in about 2 weeks and boasts a 126.9 weight. I suggested that we take our pictures now and a year from now, just to see how we got that way. She made us a couple of chicken and cheese Pinnini sandwiches and we watched a few minutes of a movie, before I made my leave. She handed me a large plastic bag that contained pasta a meatballs, a Caesar salad with home made croutons and dressing, complete with buttered garlic bread and some kind of apple cake that was to die for. I think I'm gonna like living with the Lovely Jules!

Monday, January 17, 2011

January 17th Again...

Well, it's Martin Luther King Day again and it's the day that every year I bore you with, in 1991 I had my first hair transplant, on this day and in 1987 I married my second wife, and on this day and in 1988 I gave up my most awful habit of all, smoking the dreaded cigarettes!

As I write this, that rotten cat is asleep in my favorite chair. I just threw him out once and he clawed me, but when I opened the garage to do some work on my car, he sneaked back in. Oh well, when I move, he's definitely not getting the new address!

Here is why I felt so compelled to write today, this holiday of sorts. Yesterday, I borrowed the truck of the Lovely Jules to move some things to the storage locker and also some of my garage belonging to Julie's garage. She made room for me. She helped me unload the truck and I marveled at her agility for a woman her age, as she jumped off the bed of the truck, not even interrupting her sentence. Wow!

I mention that I didn't know what to do with my beloved patio set, that I've had for so many years. I believe her exact words were, "put that piece of shit on Craig's List for FREE!" It appeared that I was the only one that loved that piece of shit!

So today, in addition to putting it online for FREE, I advertised my two or three other bedroom sets on Craig's List. The ones that I put online for money went on easily, but every time I tried to put the patio set on for free, it wouldn't accept it and would just erase my efforts. On the 5th try, I was about to just give up, figuring it was a sign from God, it accepted it... I turned off the computer, and headed to the restroom, but never got there. My phone rang. It was a woman that lived about 6 blocks away that said she had a truck and the desire for my patio set, as well as a strong husband. Before I could say, come and get it, the phone beeped indicating a new call. I excused myself and it was another taker and before I was able to give the first lady my address, there were 5 more calls! When I finally listened to all of the voicemails, there were 7 to deal with and my phone kept beeping. Within 10 minutes, lady number one arrived with a truck and a huge husband. He lifted the glass top and hoisted it over his head and we all carried out the remainder of the set, as my phone continually sang it's song. I turned it off for the first time ever! After the first couple left with my patio set in tow, I cancelled the ad and listened and deleted the 15 or 20 messages. I also got one call about a bedroom set, she's going to call me back after work..........maybe!

Thursday, January 13, 2011


Today I rented a storage locker, my first ever. In and of itself, that's not terribly exciting, but what it triggered were thoughts from long ago. The storage locker was $100 per month and I'm required to have insurance for $7.50, creating a total of $107.50. That was the cost of my very first apartment that I rented when I was just a boy, moving out for the first time.

The year was 1965 and I had just returned from New York from a training program for the job I had just secured. I was the local rep for Illinois, Indiana and Wisconsin for Gaslight Slacks. I lied and told them I was 26, when in truth I was only 19, but in those days they didn't check into things like age and took you for your word (which was not too accurate). Really a different time. I was 19 and thought I knew everything. It was a Friday around 5 PM when the phone rang and my Mom answered it. I heard her say, Mel and then hung up on the caller. I asked what that was about and she explained it was one of my tramps calling here. Innocently, I asked how she knew it was a tramp, if she never even asked who it was? She said, "If she's calling you, she's a tramp"! I knew then, that if I ever wanted to get laid, I'd better get my own place! That was what you called a defining moment.

I called my buddy Dave Levee and asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with me and he said, sure. It was on. I grabbed the newspaper and found an apartment, now get this, that was on the entrance to Edgewater Cemetery. There was the cemetery entrance gate, then a block of buildings and at the end of that street was my apartment building and a big cemetery. Now that I think about it, I was with Dave, my buddy and we both agreed it was pretty cool. I signed the lease and paid them the deposit and Dave was reluctant to join me, but I was hell bent on moving out of Mom and Dad's. Dave never did join me, except for the times he wanted to use my place for romantic dates. Some friend, huh? Another thing I think back about, is the fact that neither of my parents were interested in looking at the place before I rented it. I was 19 and literally on my own and about to move to a cemetery! I had that place for a long time, met my neighbors and hung around this ghetto neighborhood and drank beer with the locals. I had a great job that was earning me gobs of money and things were good. I remember trading in my 65 Catalina convertible and buying a brand new 1967 Chevy, Malibu 396 convertible, with a 4-speed and low geared rear end, all black. I had several girlfriends and kept pretty busy. I worked, traveled my territory and partied. I decorated too. I decided that every bachelor pad should have a Japanese Rock Garden, so I searched high and low for the necessary components. I built it out of bricks and put it in the corner of my living room. I had little Japanese statues and big white paper lamps, all filled with red bulbs. It was quite a sensation. I would pick up girls and invite them back to my pad, to see my Rock Garden. It worked!

My friends and I hung out on Chicago's Rush Street and partied at the world famous Whiskey A Go-Go, where girls wore go go boots and danced in cages. We were actually "regulars"! One day I met a girl and we got married and became responsible and started having babies, but I'll still get a chill when I hear one of the old songs!

Let This be a Lesson to You!

If you've been following my blog/life at all, you'll know that I was almost impregnated by an unscrupulous dentist, a Dr. Ralph Lloyd Juriansz DDS PhD. He screwed me to the point that there is no coming back. I'm not the least bit reluctant to mention his name out loud and often, to save someone else from his demented wrath.

When you engage the services of a professional, there is a certain amount of trust involved. It never occurs to you that his intentions are not legitimate. This is the case with Dr. Ralph Lloyd Juriansz. I had a doctor's appointment with an internist in the same office complex and sure as shit, he's flown the coup. There is another doctor occupying his former office. This was already told to me by the Arizona Board of Dentistry, when they called and informed me of their decision in my favor.

When Chase Bank sided with the good doctor, I realized their decision was based upon who they could collect from. That would be me, since the creep is gone, took the high road to nowhere land. I contested their decision and wrote to the Federal Reserve. This is the regulatory agency that regulates Chase Bank. Frankly, this was not an easy task, as no one admitted to being the correct agency. I finally just wrote to all off them. About a week ago, I got a call from a Jessica Jones from Chase Bank and she informed me that the case was assigned to her and that she'd be in touch with me soon, with a new decision.

Today the call came. although I was busy, I stopped what I was doing (frying eggs) and sat down to relax and enjoy the reversal of decision. But it didn't happen. Although she was poised and polite, the fact still remained that the bosses told her to side in their own favor and that I still owe the $3500. She mentioned several times that Chase was just the lending vessel. As a consolation prize, she offered me the $3500 loan at 0% interest, for the balance, until paid off.

Honestly, when I contacted the Federal Reserve, I was expecting them to organize the investigation and not give back to the exact people that I'm having a problem with. That shows me that Chase Bank is more powerful that the Federal Reserve! The next time I apply for a credit card, it's going to be from a Mom and Pop outfit, but certainly not one of the big ones that are too big for their britches!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


For the past 4 years or so, there has been one person in my life as a constant. When the phone rings at about 11 PM, I usually know without looking who is calling. When a mechanical thing in her home stops doing what it's supposed to do, sometimes I get a call about that too. Recently her HOA was hounding her to cut some vines, and my shears are already in my car. When my computer quits computing, she's number one on my list of people to call about recovery services. Whenever a problem arises that I don't want to deal with on my own, she takes charge of the situation. I'm talking about the Lovely Jules, who by the way is responsible for me blogging.

When she saw me going through the trials and tribulations of finding a new residence, she came up with a solution where I could live in a spacious home with a $5 farting dog. She suggested I move in with her! At first we both thought that would be a disaster. We are two people that are pretty set in our ways and like in the case of Superman, we should never upset that delicate balance of history or nature. But the truth be known, we get along remarkably well for 2 people of opposite genders, that are not romantically involved.

The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. For the past 4 years we've been there for each other and now we'll really be THERE for each other. So the announcement that I'm making in this post of "Things I've Left Behind" is that the Lovely Jules (LJ) and I will from now forward, be FLATMATES, <-------Julies choice of terms. God help us!

Monday, January 10, 2011

Who can Tell White from Wong?

A very interesting day took place today. Here's the deal. With my new insurance company, United Health Care, I am required to have a primary care physician, whether or not I want one. This individual's job is to distribute referrals for other doctors that you may indeed need. In my humble case, I need a cardiologist and a kidney specialist. I made an appointment with both of those doctors and each in turn responded by telling me that my referral expired and I needed a new one. I contacted my primary care physician and only to find out that she no longer sees patients and only works out of the hospital. I asked my Kidney specialist for another PCP and he referred me to his friend, a doctor Simon. After much to do, I finally reached Dr. Simon's office to find out he doesn't take my insurance. Back to step one. I called my former PCP's office and asked who they were referring my former doctor's patients to and she replied Dr. Wong. Do I want to make an appointment with Dr. Wong? Yes please, I replied and I need it right away, because my appointment with my cardiologist is on Tuesday, tomorrow. She agreed to make an appointment for today. I met the infamous Dr. Wong today, but I could not help but use the title line to introduce myself. After cracking the office door, a young lady said to me, "May I help you"? I said, yes, I'm here for my appointment, my name is Mel Fisher and I have an appointment with Dr. White. She said, you mean Dr. Wong and I replied, "I NEVER COULD TELL WHITE FROM WONG"!

My entrance was a big success and all but a little fat girl thought it was pretty funny and assured me that I was the first to use that line. The little fat girl scowled at me, because that's what little fat girls do and I entered the inner office. You know, the office that terrible things happen within. After meeting Dr. Wong, a rather slight, youthful man, we chatted and I was out of there in about 20 minutes. He told me I was due for a colonoscopy and I assured him I'd be doing that in the near future, OUCH! He agreed to send out my referrals post haste and we were soooo done!

Friday, January 7, 2011

Thank You to Sherry!

I walked out the front door today, something that I seldom do, and just about tripped over a box that was abandoned there by Fed Ex. Who knows how long it's been settled in on the front porch? My mind went whirling back to a conversation I had with a lady I'd been texting with a few days ago. I was complaining to a lady in the Chicago area about how freezing cold it was here in the "Valley of the Sun". Naturally I was exaggerating the cold, seeing as it was almost below zero there, when we spoke. Our weather threatened to drop to the 40's.

I tore open the box and sure enough it was from her, and along with it was a note explaining that they were out of long johns everywhere but perhaps this sweatshirt might keep me nice and toasty and there was this beautiful navy blue, Izod sweatshirt in a fashion style. What do I say? Well, thank you to Sherry, for worrying about this old man freezing to death in our scary cold weather.

Martha has a BIG MOUTH...

This post was formerly titled Old Man Rants about CVS, but after Martha's RUDE comment, I thought a name change was due.
Am I the only person that has trouble with CVS and their telephone menu? Here's the deal. I've never used CVS before, but I noticed they had a big drive though location at Tatum and Bell Rd in Phoenix and made a mental note to try them. I think the time I tried them, I was shopping for Musilex for the Lovely Jules when she got a case of the Flu. They were fine or so I thought.

Fast forward, I'm living in an area that is congested with traffic and although there is a Walgreen's close by, it is located in the busy area and to slip in and out to pick up a prescription, makes for aggravation. I also noted that 1/2 mile in the opposite direction is a 24 hour CVS. I transferred all of my prescriptions for blood pressure meds to CVS. One day I was shopping with my Costco wife, the Lovely Jules, when the first experience with them was a phone call from them, saying that my prescription for one of my routine meds was denied. Denied, I asked? What do you mean by that? It didn't have any refills left on it, so we cannot fill it. I suggested they call Dr. Harvey and ask his assistant Harris to refill the order. She said she tried faxing them but got no reply. I explained that sometimes the assistant is busy and he'll get to it, or to call Harris at such n such number, and I gave her the number and ask for a refill on that med. There was a long silence and I asked if she wrote down the number? She said, no you didn't tell me to write it down. I asked if she had a pen or pencil and she said no, to wait. I did and she came back and I slowly gave her the number. Again a longer than comfortable pause and she asked. And WHY am I writing down this number??? OH-MY-GAWD! I explained that she needed to call Harris and I hung up. She never called! Eventually, Harris replied by refilling the fax he got a day later, so all was eventually okay.

Next experience was Dr. Harvey had Harris call in a new prescription for a med. He also gave me a few free samples to get used to trying the new drug. The new drug had side effects that were more than I wanted to handle on a daily basis. Every time I'd stand from a sitting position, my legs would cramp up and take about 90 seconds for the cramps to release, not cool! So I called the pharmacy and cancelled the prescription. The following day and everyday since, I get an early morning message on my cell phone saying my prescription is ready. I tried 3 times now to call and cancel it. The first time I got left waiting on hold for longer than I cared to wait, over 3 minutes and the second time the menu transferred me to the store manager who claimed he couldn't transfer me back and the third time, was the "please hold" routine again! Screw it, they'll get the idea when I never pic up the drugs! Right? Back to Walgreen's...

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Creation of a Pest...

It wasn't long ago that I was writing about the kitty that has adopted me. Now, just a few shorts days later, I'm writing about the pest that I inherited. He seems to belong to the house I reside in. That, or he has made me his natural victim. What started out as a friend acquaintance, has turned into a annoying habit. Don't misunderstand, there are times when I enjoy his company, but seldom will he just relax and sleep or just hang around. He jumps up on counters, something that I would not allow if he were my cat exclusively, but apparently he's developed some bad habits two doors down, where he really lives and got his training or lack of it. Also, when he's not jumping on top of my counters or even my laptop computer, he's standing in one spot kneading on some sort of leather furniture or my own skin. If I allow him on my lap, his favorite place, I have to cushion him with a blanket between he and I, to prevent too much bleeding. Another of his favorite places to sleep, is a lamp table behind my reclining chair.

At some point, about 4 days ago I ostracized him, forbidding him to come into the house. Yesterday, I was grilling chicken and there was no refusing him. He charged the open door and stood there laughing at me, as I worked the barbecue. So Needie is back and as I write this he is outside of my door singing me a song, but mostly begging to come inside. If suddenly you're reading and a word comes out as "rkfg#%^&ukj", it simply means that Needie is walking across the keyboard!

Monday, January 3, 2011

Pictures, 1/3 OFF...

To the average person, a title that read "PICTURES 1/3 OFF" would indicate a sale on art work, but not here in the world of online dating. One of the funniest things in the world, is for a thin person to explain to a fat person how to lose weight. Sure, I'm a little angry, but nothing I won't get over. The story played out something like this... Before moving along here, I might point out that the error was made by me.

About 2 months ago, I met a perfectly charming lady online that was 52 years old, blond haired with ice blue eyes. She was from Australia and has been here in this country for 9 years. She also possessed a cute accent from down under, a definite plus. After making email contact, she just faded away, indicating to me that she had met someone that was occupying her time. Hey, this just happens. In my dialogue with her, I initially asked if my age of 64 was going to be a problem and she assured me, no. She gave me her phone number and about 8 hours later, I called and got voicemail. I left a civil message and waited for her to return my call. Later I texted her that I stay up late and not to worry if it got too late. Still, no reply.. So I forgot about her. I'd see her online from time to time, but again, that just happens. New Year's Day, I saw her online on a different venue and sent her a New Year greeting and asked whatever happened to her a couple of months ago? Her reply came yesterday on the Jan. 2nd and it explained that she had every intention of returning my call, but her next door neighbor came in, a lady that also is on the dating sights and she mentioned that she had gone out on 2 dates with a Mel and her Mel had a very funny profile too. Not wanting to date the same man, she just let my heels cool. (Women can do that). When my New Year Greeting arrived on Saturday, her neighbor was over having a New Year glass of wine and explained that I was NOT her Mel. So in a hysterical email she LOLed her way back into my favor and immediately called me LOLing even more. Okay, now you've got the background.

So we talk for a full 2 1/2 hours and make plans for a meeting last night for a "meet and greet" at a local lounge. Let's give this lady a name.How about Myrtle? During our 2 1/2 hour discussion, she tells me that her cards are all on the table, no secrets. That is why she posts 15 pictures of herself online. All poses and all positions showing no surprises when her perspective date meets her and she also mentions that she wears a size 14. Not knowing how big a size 14 is, but I know it's not a 6, I reply, "As long as you look like your pictures" and she assured me she did. We hung up and I was prepared for my date with adorable Myrtle. I know you ladies out there are laughing now, because a size 14 is not adorable. But in my mind, I'm picturing Myrtle all cute and petite, just like her photos. In my mind, the whole size 14 thing was a mix up and decency would prevail.

Just then my phone rang and it was my friend Kim calling to see how my New Year was. I told her I couldn't chat, as I was getting ready for my date with the adorable Myrtle and she asked a few questions and her size 14 came up. Kim said, "Oh boy, look out, size 14 is BIG"! I almost got angry at her for insinuating that my date was fat! How rude! We hung up.

I had to drive about 30 minutes to get to North Scottsdale where my meeting was to be and I showed up right at 7, on time. she was a few minutes late. I sat in the foyer of this lounge waiting, as a fat woman approached the front door.OH SHIT!!!!! How could she say she looked like her pictures, when her pictures showed a thin to average lady and this was a porker! As she walked in ahead of me, me always being the gentleman, I couldn't take my eyes off of her giant ass and some of the gyrations it did in accommodating her walk. It kind of looked like 2 pigs fighting under a blanket. We went to a table and were seated and to my pleasant surprise, she was as pleasant in person as she was on the phone. She had discussed that she was going on a diet starting today and she wouldn't be much fun for awhile and I tried to picture her with 1/3 off. After awhile, her cute little "down under" accent got annoying as I couldn't understand what she was saying and had to keep stopping her to ask. Then I realized she had 52 years to lose that weight and she wasn't going to do it for me. I think it was then that I asked her if she might want to get together again and she looked at me and said, no she just wasn't feeling the connection! I had no intention of seeing her again, unless it was to an all you can eat buffet, I was just looking for some assurance. So let this be a lesson to you, fat girls have preferences too!