Hello, Hello, Is Anyone There?

A lot of things have combined to create this post. The first is a feeling that I'm living in some weird, warped isolation from the business world. I've had three calls for key work in the past week. One set arrived. No payment and missing instructions. I called and left a message about the instructions three days ago. Nothing. Supposedly the check is on it's way. I'll just wait for that as I'll be able to figure the job based on the amount of payment. Did some keys over three weeks ago and the guy forgot to enclose the check. I called to remind him that return shipping would be free with prepayment. Yep, he says, check will be sent right away. I've sent the keys back, finished, with a bill. Nothing. I sent a second bill and added in the shipping costs. Nothing.

So, today's picture was chosen while I was looking through some old photographs over the weekend. I'm calling it the first cell phone. I've included (copied) the 'letter' that my dad wrote to his father that was written on the back of the photograph. My dad is the guy with the polka dot tie, third from the right. Pop - This photo is of the first Emergency Radio Equipment of it's type ever built. The units in this photo were used to establish telephone communication between President Eisenhower and the Nations telephone facilities. The part I'm happy about, Pop, is that after I engineered it - it functioned satisfactorily on the first trial. Al

All that so that Eisenhower could go on his usual fishing trips at a location with no phone lines! Talk about government's wasteful spending.

So put THAT phone in your pocket and go!

Star Gazing in Alaska

What a beautiful summer day in Sitka! Clear blue skies. Town was packed with the movie, of course. It's nice going down in the morning when the local kids are still in school. We can be paparazzi without much competition! Dock Square continues it transformation, today a 'new' old building was being created. Amanda and I were stood talking to a friend, when one of the crew came along and asked if we were extras. I replied that we could be, if needed. Guess we weren't needed. Filming was taking place on the North Basin side of Bearskin Neck and it was off limits. Amanda and I sat across the basin at the very end of T-Wharf and had front row seats to the filming.The above picture is the scene they were filming. In this scene Ryan Reynolds is grabbing Sandra Bullock's luggage from the back of the pick-up truck and dropping it at her feet. He walks off, leaving her to haul her own heavy bags. Actually, other than a few of the crew readying some boats, we were the only ones out on T-Wharf. Here's Ryan having a post shooting discussion with Betty White (light green jacket) and Mary Steenburgen (white jacket). Then we heard the director say that they were wrapping up for lunch, so Amanda and I headed for 'the Neck'. We had perfect timing! Just as we approached, Ryan Reynolds dashed by, only an arms length away, to a waiting SUV. Amanda couldn't believe we got so close. We stood on the corner waiting with a couple other people as Betty White walked out. She loves animals and the lady next to me had a dog on a leash. Well, Betty just had to stop and pet the dog and chat! After Betty left our little group, Amanda nudged me and said, "There's Mary." I had the camera ready for a shot of Mary Steenburgen as she walked by. No conversation, though.

And then, back home to reality and work for both of us.

Sitkaport, Alaskachusetts

We are having identity problems. Yes, folks, Hollywood is in town once again. This time filming the movie, The Proposal, due out in September 2009. So, does Rockport filming guarantee a flop movie? Time will tell. Other movies I remember being filmed here have been: The Good Son, A Rockport Christmas, The Love Letter, and Stuck On You. Big stars in some like McCauley Culken, Tom Selleck, Ellen DeGeneres, Greg Kinnear, Matt Damon, Elijah Wood and more. None have been particularly great movies. The Good Son was most likely the best of them.

The Proposal's cast includes Sandra Bullock, Betty White, Mary Steenburgen, Craig T. Nelson and Ryan Reynolds. Rockport has once again been transformed into someplace else (we're rarely Rockport). This time we are summer in Sitka, Alaska. Town is really spiffed up! Amanda and I spent about two hours watching and roaming on Monday. We are thinking of heading down again today. Yesterday we took pictures of some of the sets and the transformations in town. I also got several photos of Ryan Reynolds. Honestly, I don't have a much of a clue about him other than he's a nice looking 30 something who was in the remake of The Amityville Horror. Filming is taking place over about a week and a half, finishing up the end of this week.

The Tax Man

To (dis)honor the day, I offer:

The IRS motto..........................

"We've got what it takes to take what you've got."

The Image

In the photograph he is smiling. His wife stands next to him. She's an average woman. The type that makes you feel as if you have seen her before or conversed with her at some unspectacular event. Somewhere. Hard to believe that they have been married for over six years. She is his fourth wife. Where do you know her from? Well, it really doesn't matter, does it? She has no part in your life. But the man. Another photograph captures him laughing, obviously sharing a light-hearted moment at a social function. Strange to see him laughing. Is he truly that happy deep down inside? How could he be? It wasn't so long ago. Maybe he had shared his unhappiness with his third wife. Strange that she owned the house he and his second wife had wanted to buy so many years ago. Odd coincidence. Does he even think of those days any more? You know, the ones spent with his family. Seeing the photographs makes you wonder.

His second marriage wasn't perfect, but it was his longest at fifteen years. His first had ended in four years, mimicked it seems by his third. Number two had appeared destined to last. He had a close family. They seemed to share the same goals, aspirations. They worked hard together. They laughed together. Then after more than a decade, they started to grow apart. But they didn't quit. They still enjoyed each other and the family that they had created. Things would get better, they thought, and when he earnestly began new hobbies, his wife encouraged him. He felt good that there were new goals, new opportunities to be happy together. She, too, felt optimistic once again. It had been a tough battle but they had stayed together and worked through it. There was so much to look forward to together.

Until one evening when he told her he had filed for divorce. He gave her nothing to grasp for a reason. He said, simply, that he wasn't happy. He had never been. Not once, he said. She later heard rumors that he had met another woman, but by the time she'd heard that, she had no longer cared. He would be moving out in two weeks. They should tell their daughter. And they did, but he didn't leave, and they played a charade of acceptance of the inevitable divorce until ten months later he was gone. His ex-wife had primary custody of their daughter. He had liberal visitation and he picked his daughter up every other weekend. Then, after a few months, she didn't want to go with him one Saturday and he walked away. He never tried again. He sent gifts at Christmas and on her birthday. He paid the required child support until she graduated high school. Then it was over. He didn't see her. He didn't write. There were no cards, no gifts. A month after his mother died, he sent his daughter a letter and the obituary.

Could a man discard his own child so easily? Surely he must have regretted his decisions.
How does he laugh so readily? If the camera could look inside this man how different the pictures might be.

Tune Time

My, my, my. I just never know what will happen. After last week's (and weekend's) massive pile-up of key work, I started getting tuning calls. I do only a moderate amount of tuning work. Not because I'm not looking for it, but mostly due to being the 'new' tech in a territory with a 'legendary' tech. So I'm lucky if I do one or two tunings per week. Thursday was booked with a morning tuning and another in the afternoon. Both repeat customers and the jobs went smoothly and easily. So much so that I didn't hesitate to delve in to spring yard clean-up when I got home at 3:30. Yes, I knew that I had another big tuning day coming up...well, an afternoon anyway. Friday afternoon was devoted to getting two pianos in shape and tuned at the Rockport High School. It was a short notice, high visibility/impact job. On Wednesday morning I got a call from the Rockport Chamber Music Festival. They were coordinating a full orchestral performance with Gordon College for local elementary school students. Or some such thing...anyway...Rockport High was the only school that would/could provide two pianos on stage.

Now, one of the pianos lives on stage and is a nice Yamaha G1 grand that stays fairly well maintained and tuned. The other was to be moved on to the stage. It would be a Yamaha P22 upright that I hadn't tuned in two years. Yikes. That's why I set aside the entire afternoon. I was more than a tad nervous about the P22, and very nervous about getting it to sound decent with the grand. I rolled the grand in to position on the stage and a group from the school lifted the P22 from the auditorium floor to the stage, then I rolled it to it's position next to the grand. The better piano, the grand, would be the first to be tuned. It would be the standard to match with the upright.

Just before I started, one of the music teachers came in and asked if I had time to tune one of the practice room pianos when I finished in the auditorium. Sure, why not?

The grand was flat. Tis the remnants of the dry heat of the auditorium in winter! When I had tuned it last September it was a slight bit above standard pitch and I had left it there (summer humidity the culprit). My next tuning, just before Christmas, and the piano had settled in at pitch. Today, I would have loved to let it 'float' very slightly flat of standard but in tune to itself, knowing that upcoming warmer and more humid weather would inch it sharp, but with a multi-instrument performance that wasn't an option. I made a quick tuning pass and then played hard and heavy. I went back through and caught a few notes that had drifted.

On to the P22! I got everything set including the tuning lever in place on my starting note, then I walked to the grand and simultaneously played the same note and wedged the key down to keep the note sounding. A quick couple strides back to tune the note on the P22 to match. From that point I tuned the midrange of the P22, then went through the wedge routine with the grand to make sure both pianos sounded as one in the midrange. Then finished the P22. Since it, also, had been a tad flat, I went through each key and 'beat them' with a firm blow. Touched up a couple upon checking for drift and did a random check between the two pianos. Everything sounded good, but I'll be returning very early (for me) on Monday morning for a quick check through. The musicians will be setting up around 8 a.m. and I think the performance begins at 9 a.m.

With aching arm and back and legs, I packed up my tuning gear and headed for the office to let them know I'd be in the music department tuning an additional piano.

This piano was very flat and I yanked the daylights out of it to get it up to pitch and then cruised through a tuning. I discovered a very weird 'fix' that the previous school technician (or someone) had made and undid it. I did a proper fix. By the time I finished, my body was starting to scream. It's not used to 5 pianos in two days! (Not to mention the yard work).

Thank goodness for a weekend in which I'm expecting only one set of keys...for key tops and key bushings. I like those 'double' jobs!

History Lessons

Where were you when?I was keeping an eye on the paperwork.Mom was checking payments!

End Week Week End

Wow, did I get dumped on over the last few days! Two sets of keys came in on Tuesday. One for tops and bushings, the other just tops. Got to work on them right off and it was a good thing because on Wednesday the phone rang...another tech sending keys and he needed them in a rush. I didn't think it would be a problem. Thursday rolls around and USPS delivers a box to the door. Hmmm, must be that rush job. Oh no, another set! I took the box to the workshop and opened it up. Keys from a tech in North Carolina that has never sent any work here before. No check, no note, no instructions. Return address on the box is the only clue. I got started on them figuring Friday's mail would probably bring the check and the instructions as to color choice. Not a thing in Friday's mail, but UPS delivered the keys for the rush job. I finally had to look up the North Carolina guy's email. Sent him one (an email, that is) and gave him 24 hours to respond. Nothing. Finally made the long distance phone call and got him squared away...idiot.

Friday, I shipped out two sets and still had three to go! Then the phone rang. I set up an appointment to give an estimate on a repair of an Indian harmonium. The customer would bring it here on Sunday, just before lunch. By Friday night I was starting to wonder how I would get everything done on time. Especially since I had promised Amanda and my mother a day of furniture shopping and other errands on Saturday!

Then the phone rang again. This time it was Amanda's work wanting her to fill in for someone on Saturday. Since she needs the cash, she decided to give up the Saturday outing and go to work. I still gave up my afternoon, Saturday, to drive my mom on some of the errands she wanted to do.

Saturday morning I worked like crazy and made good progress on the keys and after dropping Amanda off at work, my mom and I headed north. Our first errand was to drive to Merrimac to see if Skip's had posted a sign with their opening date. And they had one up! Yay, Skip's is opening for the season on April 23rd. I've subsequently told Amanda to ask for her birthday (24th) off from work and we'll all go up for lunch.

After the Skip's drive-by, we headed east and then south towards Newburyport. We stopped at one furniture store just to check on a nightstand for Amanda. They had one that we think she'll like, but are waiting to take her to see it before my mom buys it as a birthday gift. After the furniture store, we headed for Tendercrop Farm. My mom was looking for some dried flowers. She didn't find anything she wanted, but look what I found! Tendercrop Farm has a llama. And...Tendercrop Farm has Bunky the buffalo. Bunky has been there for a number of years, but this is the first time that I've seen a llama at the farm. The llama spent a good amount of time chowing down on some carrots that a little boy was feeding to it. Bunky was looking hungry and jealous.
Sunday was work, work, work. Shame on me. The lady came with the Indian harmonium and after some fiddling with it, it worked just fine. She has left it to have the keyboard repaired. The keys are poorly made and have swelled and are rubbing on each other. Most of the key tops have fallen off and also need to be trimmed for clearance. After she left, I finished two more sets of keys and nearly the third.

This morning set three was finished and boxed and I was off to the shippers. Now I'm just fighting the nit-picky harmonium keys. A nice change, but they are annoying to work on.

Dirigible?

These will be that last of the photos that I post specifically about the Minoan. Sure, there are piles more but mostly I can't get them out of the photo album. The album of the photos that we took is one of those advertising gimmicks that were called 'magnetic' which really meant 'will stick so well you'll never get it out' unless...you don't need to take it out, therefore it falls out of it's own accord. The photos that were taken by LIFE magazine are too large to fit in my scanner without risking damage to them. I have managed a portion of one of them and that is this one of my dad. Do you think he looks enormously pleased? Even smeared with cement. This next photo is when the Minoan was being rolled over in our backyard. This is a good illustration of the strength of the hull as she is balanced at two points. All 5 tons. All the wood that is seen in this picture is only part of the mold and will be ripped apart. The Minoan has a ferro-cement deck that is made as an integral part of the hull. Amid the boat building years, my family decided to move from Groveland to the neighboring town of West Newbury so the Minoan was loaded on to a flatbed boat hauler and 'paraded' to Wallace Boat Yard in Merrimacport. And I mean paraded. You see we were quite well known by that time and people lined the streets watching the boat hauled by. After more years of fitting-out, she was launched in 1977. Several years of day-sailing later and it was time to cruise south to Florida for the winter. The first couple days out were rough weather with 50 knot winds. As soon as it settled down enough, Minoan motored through the Cape Cod Canal (above). Mom and dad spent the winter aboard in Stuart, Florida. We joined them for Christmas 1981. I hate this photo of myself! Be kind, I was over 5 months pregnant. I'm sharing the picture because it is one of the few that show 'down below'. And finally, a nice day in May, heading back home at the Cape Cod Canal. My dad is buried only a few miles from where this photo was taken.

For many years we were the neighborhood 'entertainment'. When we moved from Groveland, many of those neighbors said how boring life would be with us not being there. The best question..."So what's next, Al, a cement dirigible?"

What the Heck?

has been keeping me busy?


Part One
What are these little 'signs' for? These signs are located intermittently along Rte. 128 (a state highway). We have seen them nowhere else, yet. They are not evenly spaced along the highway nor do they seem to be placed in any intentionally useful regard. There may be several within mere feet of each other, or next to each other, or none for miles. Although all the ones in the pictures are mounted on other signs, there are many mounted on the guardrails, some on sections of granite ledge amid the brush along side the road, some on chainlink fences and on bridge abutments. Personally, I find the ones on the granite to be the most confusing. There are only three color types: plain brown, plain blue, or a vertically divided half brown-half blue. Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures. The signs are about 5 inches square. You try getting a good picture of something that size while being driven along at 55 mph! My mom thinks I worry too much about little things. That I might be a tad too curious. I'm not worried in the least about them. Curious, of course. They now bug me.

















So now every time I drive down 128, which is at least once a week, I wonder. I've got Amanda wondering, too.

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Part Two
Today was nice enough that Amanda and I went out for a walk in the woods. Once again, the easy trip down to Loop Pond and back around through the town tree farm. This time we decided to climb around on the 'ridge' at the edge of the pond. It was good exercise and something that will be totally impossible once Spring has sprung with brambles, tall grass, and saplings. I think the next time we woods-walk I'm going to first drive to the top of Summit Ave. and park near the stone mounds (remember those elephant graves?) and explore from there. Here's a picture from today that struck me for some reason.

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Part Three
Another thing that has been occupying some time is getting all the stuff ready for the Arts & Crafts shows. I've had a week of tunings and estimates and calls about key work coming in, but nothing in the shop (other than the reed organ that I'm still working on). I've been using the time finishing up the easel minis, making props and writing an 'About the Artist' placard that will rest on a small table easel. I've decided that I have enough inventory for the start-up with all the 5 X 7's that you see in the sidebar and 13 easel minis. Today, I took this picture of the minis and the collapsible display shelf for four of them. Oh yeah, I am making all the display rigs collapsible for ease of packing and transport. The easel minis are about 2.25 X 3.25 inches (I make the easels, too, and they fold flat like a real easel).

In English, Please

News item online today. This gives me some hope! Just a little, but I'll take any bit of hope I can find!

WILKES-BARRE, Pa. - A judge known for creative sentencing has ordered three Spanish-speaking men to learn English or go to jail.


The men, who faced prison for criminal conspiracy to commit robbery, can remain on parole if they learn to read and write English, earn their GEDs and get full-time jobs, Luzerne County Judge Peter Paul Olszewski Jr. said.

The men, Luis Reyes, Ricardo Dominguez and Rafael Guzman-Mateo, plus a fourth defendant, Kelvin Reyes-Rosario, all needed translators when they pleaded guilty Tuesday.

"Do you think we are going to supply you with a translator all of your life?" the judge asked them.

The four, ranging in age from 17 to 22, were in a group that police said accosted two men on a street in May. The two said they were asked if they had marijuana, told to empty their pockets, struck on the head, threatened with a gun and told to stay off the block.

Attorneys for the men said they were studying the legality of the ruling and had not decided whether to appeal. One of the attorneys, Ferris Webby, suggested that the ruling was good for his client, Guzman-Mateo.

"My client is happy," Webby said. "I think it's going to help him."

The judge sentenced the four men to jail terms of four to 24 months. But he gave the three men, who already had served at least four months, immediate parole. Reyes-Rosario remains imprisoned on an unrelated drug charge.

Olszewski ordered the three to return with their parole officers in a year and take an English test. "If they don't pass, they're going in for the 24 (months)," he said.

Olszewski is known for outside-the-box sentencing.

He has ordered young defendants who are school dropouts to finish school. He often orders defendants to get full-time employment. But he also has his staff coordinate with an employment agency to help them find the jobs.

Who's Out There?

You just never know who may be reading. Sometimes it is amazing to hear from someone who's life has become, in a weird and detached way, part of your own life saga. This happened to me last week. Of course it was during a full moon. Isn't that when that kind of stuff happens?

Anyway, this is the tale. And Paul, this is for you if you are still out there.

On the night of the full moon I checked my email late. I couldn't believe my eyes. There on the screen was an email from an unknown address with the subject matter: Minoan. Paul had found me to tell me that he had purchased the 36 foot, ferro-cement sailboat that my father had built over 30 years ago. He was hoping for some pictures and also the construction dates. Some of the information that Paul gave about himself and the circumstances of his purchase made me suspicious (sorry Paul, the reasons are a very long story that are only barely touched upon in the archives of this blog). I took some time to check out his story. So far so good, therefore I am posting here.

The Internet certainly has a way of making a very small world. Consider the odds of Paul, from England, buying a 30 year old sailboat, in the states, built by my dad, ever being able to find me before the Internet. Not likely.

So for Paul, I would never be able to post (or email) all the photographs that we have of the construction of the Minoan. I'll post a few here with brief descriptions. If you want to see them all, you may get in touch when you arrive at the Minoan in May.

I'll start with the finish! Here's the Minoan sailing out of Rockport Harbor. And now for the start.......

In our backyard the wood lathe mold took shape.
The mold covered with a layer of polyethylene film, four layers of sparrow mesh, a grid of quarter inch steel rod, and another four layers of sparrow mesh. All stitched together with very long basting of wire to be less than 7/8ths of an inch in thickness. The area that would serve as the support for the rudder post included a welded steel channel structure. My dad was a firm believer in over-engineering.
Cementing day it was 90°F, the specialized mixture is completely forced through all the layers to stop at the polyethylene film barrier. It took over 12 hours and many hands - neighbors, friends, relatives, my dad's engineers, strangers. A reporter and photographer from LIFE magazine spent the day and we were featured in the September 1970 issue. They took over two hundred photos that day and presented us with a large (photos too large for my scanner) photo album. In the above photograph, all of the hull and deck have been cemented and the finish surface is being worked on. It 'cured' for 30 days, being kept damp with a perforated hose atop a complete cover of burlap bags under polyethylene. Then all the wood lathe mold was stripped out. Dragon Cement Co. (part of Martin Marietta Corp) came to do an interview and take photos for their company publication.
Time to roll it over! Here's the roll over crew. This was a nerve-racking day. There were some tense moments considering that the hull weighed approximately 5 tons! It was rolled over with a combination of twin wheels, railroad jacks (used to right derailments) and railroad come-alongs traveling through our cellar windows and attached to the support columns of the house.

So, for now, that's a hint at the construction of the Minoan. It was still several years from completion with all the cabin to build and all the essentials of engine, steerage, electrical, plumbing, standing and running rigging, ballast, sail design, and hundreds of details. Upon completion she weighed approximately 10 tons, had a full galley, head, and could sleep five very comfortably.

And how, you ask, does 10 tons of cement float?
Like a teacup..............displacement.

Maybe some more another time.

What a Pain Day

Today was designated to be clean the house day. Mostly that happened with a large amount of Spring cleaning all morning. It feels good to get things straightened and cleaned, freshened. Especially when I've got collections that tend to gather dust and are too much bother to seriously clean regularly. Well, all the Art Deco chromeware is cleaned, the shelves washed down, Statue of Liberties thoroughly dusted and all the weekly vacuuming and dusting finished. I even washed the floors!

I sent out another set of keys yesterday and more will be arriving next week. I also scheduled some tunings and an evaluation for next week. The High School had me in to do an estimate for necessary work on their six pianos. Things were going just swell.

You know that can't last!

I was doing a very professional booklet presentation for the High School when on the last page printing, my black ink crapped out. No big deal, I thought, I'll just pop in a new cartridge. I still had the cover page to write and print. The little tape-y covering on the cartridge was very sticky but it did peel off. I put the new cartridge in and went through the rigamarole (is that how it's spelled and is it a real word?) and it won't print correctly. Drat. I've tried everything imaginable to make it print right. I've cleaned it both with the printer program and literally per Dell's 'if that didn't work do this' directions. Nothing except using up 2 hours of the afternoon. Looks just like the old one with barely perceptible script. I'm clueless for what to do now other than buy another cartridge and try again. In the meantime, I'm converting everything I need to print to a color. Any color other than black and I'm fine. Problem is I don't want the cover page 'in living color'. I guess I'll print it in dark blue and then take it to be photocopied in black. What a pain.

Other annoying things. I was working on a frame for one of the 5 X 7 oils and cut one side too short.

I did succeed in taking a little picture of some of the easel minis.

Some other interesting things are going on but I'll have to keep you in suspense for a bit.

You do know it's a full moon?

Sleep Starved Saturday

It began very late Friday evening. I had checked my email and then relaxed in bed with a book. I was trying to read and watch a little television at the same time. My eyes ached to close and finally, at 11 p.m., I gave up and turned in for a good night's sleep.

But I didn't. Sleep, that is. Thoughts kept rolling around in my brain about how on earth I was ever going to get everything accomplished that I needed to. My own stuff is pushed further and further back as Amanda and Mom add more to THE list. Vacations loom for Florida in May and NYC in June. Amanda wants the Florida trip and mom wants NYC. Neither will do the actual planning to make either happen. Then there's the PT job search and how will I work a new job in with the other's vacation time. An enormous yard sale and the minimally monthly arts and craft fairs. And on and on to the point that it was just about 12:30 a.m. when I started to get that warm and cozy dozing off feeling.

Until I was awoken abruptly by Amanda calling me. She was sick and needed some medicine. She didn't know where it was. I couldn't get back to sleep and the rest of the night became a drawn out ordeal of nearly dozing and being startled back to consciousness hearing Amanda up and down all night. At 6 on Saturday morning I looked at the clock. The sun would be coming up soon. Wham! I awoke at 7:30. That would be all the sleep I would get. An hour and a half.

Amanda has been sick all day and called in to work. She spent her day between reclining in bed and the bathroom. I've tried to keep going, albeit slowly. I worked a little on the reed organ and painting. I ran errands to the library and the grocery store. I got mom started with reupholstering the padded lid to her hamper. Mostly I worked on display set-ups for the fairs. I decided to try out the displays while taking a photo of all the paintings so far. Mom and I spent 10 minutes or more arranging so every painting would show in the photograph. It was late in the day and I was tired. One painting got left out and I didn't notice until I had put them all back in their storage/transport box. I'm temporarily switching from painting 5 X 7 to painting miniatures displayed on their own easels. There is one example in this photo on this post. It's been a long time since I have 'done art' to sell rather than just 'done art'. I'm hoping to have a dozen or so easel minis ready for May.

After a lackluster dinner of grilled cheese and french fries, I propped myself on the sofa with my book and a PBS program on Doo Wop, then a couple of house flip shows. When I finish this post, I'll check my email and go back to reading. Then it's bedtime for me and I so hope a good night's sleep.

Spam Anyone?

The Piano Technician's Journal classifieds have been taken! By whom? The spammers, of course. For those of you scratching your heads, "Huh?"

I advertise my key work business in the classified section of the (in print) Piano Technician's Journal. Most of the ads are available for viewing online. Those little scoundrels who look for unsuspecting victims to scam have evidently gotten desperate and are trying contacting advertisers with email addresses posted in their ads.

Problem is that they haven't got English perfected nor do they have any idea what kind of 'product' they are asking about 'purchasing'. On the flip side, it is amazing how many business people fall for these spams/scams. Here are the text portions of two emails I received within the last week. Both went to my business email address.

Hi,
1)is this item still available for sale??
2)where are you located?
3)may i know why, you want to sell it?
4)Has this item involved in any damage before?
5)can i see more picx??
6)do i need to repair?
7)what year is this item manufactured?
8)what is the final price?
9)can you help me determine the weigth?
10)i will like to know if you do accept a
certified cashiers check or money order as mode of
payment?
11)i have a freight company on my own will be
available for them? because the operate 7:00am
to7:00pm mon-saturday i will be glad to read from you
soonest..

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To whom it may concerns: I am erron.i am interested in purchasing your Item wish you list as classified,pls kindly let me have the full details like present condition and pictures and least price,As soon as i have get all those information i will be happy to proceed with the transaction
Regards
erron

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Uh huh.

On another note, there are some changes in the sidebar. More art as it is finished. I believe one painting has been sold. Yay! You've seen "Schuyler's Monster" occupying the Recent Reads for a few weeks. Rob's book is all that I expected. Honest, comfortable, a best friend. It's not some high end example of superior literature, it's a 'real person book'. Do pick up a copy. Another addition to the sidebar is a link to one of my favorite blogs. Visible Woman hooked me the first time I read one of Linda's posts. The more I read the more "yep I know exactly" moments I have. Although our lives have been radically different, in many ways our hopes, inspirations, and some quirky understandings of life have kept me visiting and wanting to read more.

Waiting

There is almost nothing worse than waiting. Right this moment I'm waiting. I'm waiting for glue to dry, paint to dry, and wood patch to set up. The glue is on the workings of the reed organ, paint on the painting I'm working on, and patch on the reed organ. Having three processes going at once was supposed to relieve me of empty waiting. I'm also waiting for two sets of keys to arrive. One from Florida and one from California. I hate when people say they are sending work and then they take their time about it. Wait, wait, wait. Never quite sure whether they've changed their minds or what. Could arrive any minute...........or never.

I'm waiting for summer. That one's going to take a while, I'm afraid.

One thing I'm not waiting for is my mom's prescription plan to kick in. Timothy worked miracles and she received her acceptance letter from Humana. Now we do wait for the actual card. And claim forms from her old plan to submit her bills.

Today, while I'm waiting, I could clean the house (nah), go for a walk (maybe), waste more time on the computer (a good possibility), or work on some other little projects in the cellar (most likely). I did make the mistake of going through some old photos. Here I am waiting as my picture is taken at an abandoned sugar mill on St. John, USVI! Yikes, how depressing, I just figured out that this picture was taken 26 years ago.

I think I'll go check that glue.

Monday, Monday and Ignorance Has Been Bliss

It's about time I sat down and caught up. Monday is my absolute favorite day of the week. A new start, endless possibilities and hopes.

Monday morning found me heading back to a tuning customer from last week. Mrs. M. is delightfully youthful yet is most likely in her late seventies. She is very involved in the arts, creates her own line of notecards, attends tai chi classes, belongs to a monthly book club at the local library, and more that I'm sure I haven't heard about. She had called on Friday to let me know that one of the problem keys was sticking once again. It was a beautiful morning to head out on the shore side drive to her home. When I walked in to the room where the piano lives, I noticed that 'the D' was half way down. I barely touched it and it came back up to rest position. I played it a few times...no problem. I played it verrrrryyyy sloooooowly and lightly. It stayed part way down. AHA! Mrs. M. most be a soft player. I removed the necessary case parts and 'eased' the key very slightly at the balance rail button to 'iron out' a slight depression in the cloth that was the hang-up spot. 10 minute turnaround time and I was on the road again. Before I had started out for Mrs. M's, I had loaded up two sets of keys for return shipping and would stop on my way back home to send them off.

The folks at ESP shipping were in their usual great spirits, joking around and picking on each other. I always double check the computer generated shipping labels as they are put on boxes of keys. In over 5 years there has never been an error.

Can you imagine the look on the face of Mr. X, living in Texas, when he opens the box that has been delivered to his door and finds a set of piano keys?

Especially when they don't belong to him.

Maybe he doesn't even own a piano. Or, maybe there is an old one in his cellar and puzzled, he goes to look to see if it still has all it's parts. Who knows? He looks at the box again and checks the shipping label. Yep, it's addressed to him. What would he do with it?

You guessed it. A totally wrong label. Should have been going to Illinois, not Texas. Oops. They did the correct address and, hooray, the price went down!

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Business has been a bit off, whacky, with the economy in R. Here in the States we are not allowed to acknowledge the whole R word, but I think you probably know what I'm talking about. Maybe they think that if the R word is accepted, it will be a short and swift slide to D so we're supposed to ignore everything and continue merrily along. Anyway, I can never tell whether it will be a heavy tuning week or loads of keywork or nothing. Lately, it's been a moderate amount of both including an advance tuning booking for May 31. Amidst it all my hunt for a part time summer job is not going far. I'm still looking but without much time to devote to it. I have been making progress with getting all the income tax forms finished. Amanda's are done and she gets money back from both the Feds and the State. My mom's are finished, too, and she gets a lot back from both. Mine are half done and I'll be paying out! I hope to get that chore done by the start of next week.

And it's been nice not to be spending hours on the phone with Medicare et. al. Wonderful, in fact, thinking that all is well and that it's just a matter of waiting for the insurance card to come through the mail.

It's been a week and it hasn't yet. I guess I'll be on the phone tomorrow. Please, oh please may this be all done!

And finally, after a long winter's absence. He's back!!!!!! For two mornings in a row Squirt has come to the sliding glass door for a peanut.

Lions and Tigers and Bears

Oh my.

Just a lion. But a big one at that.

This picture is for Claire. We visited the 'motherland' in June - July of 1966.

In the Thick of It and Sick of It

or...the nasty side of insurance, Medicare, and a tale of stolen money.

Oh yes, here we go...

This is not as much griping as it is relating a series of events. Y'all already know how annoyed I am!

So let me begin the second week of January. This is at a time when I didn't write down names, dates, or number of calls actually made. This is when we first found out that there was a screw-up 'somewhere' in the system that resulted in my mom's prescription drug coverage being denied. At that point, I thought it could be solved with a few phone calls. I was naive.

From that first call to her new drug insurance company to ask, "What's up with this?", here is the list of idiots (I'm sorry, is that too rude? Naw.) that I have spoken to, through Wednesday, February 27th.

At Alcatel-Lucent, the company that my dad retired from and which controlled the benefit plan, I have spoken to Vashawn 6 times. Oh, Vashawn, you never should have been so demeaning. You shouldn't have implied that I was lying. You shouldn't have spewed out the canned response, "I understand your frustration, ma'am", a half dozen times in a row. In response to your poor public relations attitude your boss will be receiving a letter from me as soon as this matter is settled. Trust me, it won't be good for you.

At Humana, the company my mom enrolled in, I've spoken to Jason and to Tina. They have tried their best but their hands are tied by Medicare.

At Medco, the company that will not appropriately disenroll my mom, I've spoken to Debra, Linon, Nosa, and Marquanei. They are very talented at passing the buck. I get a different story each time I call Medco. It's beginning to seem like the company enrolled my mother without authorization. Now they tell Medicare that they have resolved the issue with my mom. Problem, folks. THEY HAVEN'T!

And finally, Medicare. The government agency that is so screwed up they will believe anybody but the Medicare recipient. At Medicare I have spoken to Dwayne, Karen, Jessica, David, Jacqueline, Marcus, Alana, Kim, Pammy, and Timothy. Nearly every one of these individuals has told me that they have taken care of the problem and that within 48 hours I will receive a confirmation call. Hasn't happened. Three filed complaints, Pammy disconnected me and I shall never forgive her for having to redial and wait an extra 15 minutes for an available representative. Which brings me to the last, Timothy, who had the audacity to suggest that my mother try to reinstate Medco (who finally, incorrectly agreed to terminate her coverage 2/29/08, rather than retro-actively) and pay their premium for an additional year. Yes, the company that has been unbelievably incompetent.

I think not. And I told Timothy a definite NO. Timothy has now re-enrolled my mother in the Humana plan, effective today, March 1. I asked what would happen about the prescriptions paid through the temporary coverage of two weeks that Humana had provided assuming that all would be made retro-active. Timothy didn't know. I asked who should pay for the medicines that my mother had paid full price for in Feb. He said Medco. But, she didn't make any monthly insurance premium payments to them. He didn't know what would happen.

Strange that Medco would insist that they were her insurance plan yet they never billed her for the coverage. Strange that they would say that she enrolled on 12/12/07 when she was already on that plan. (She requested termination effective 12/31/07). Why would anyone enroll in a plan that they already belonged to?

This is more than screw-y. Next, we get to wait and see if she does indeed get the letter of acceptance and the membership card from Humana.

Now for me. I try very hard to give the benefit of the doubt. I also try very hard not to exactly identify, in public, individuals with whom I have a gripe. I'm very close to making an exception. I won't, but a few of you may know of whom I write.

At the close of November 2007, I phoned an order to a small company that I have done business with for probably 10 years. Obviously, I'd never had a problem. After the first few orders which the total costs were charged to my credit card, I changed to being billed upon shipment and I would pay immediately by check. When I say immediately, I mean the check is in the mail the next day. Really. So when I received the shipment I knew the bill would be enclosed. When I opened the box and examined the merchandise, I was astounded to find that it was defective. I put the merchandise back in it's original box along with the bill, wrote a note explaining why I had returned it, and shipped it back. A couple days later the company owner called me to apologize for the defective cloth (pinholes in a bellows cloth that should be airtight). He had no other stock to send as a replacement. I thought that was the end of the tale.

Until I looked at my credit card bill that arrived two weeks later! He had charged the amount for the cloth to my credit card without my permission! (Had the cloth been usable I would have sent payment...I would have double paid.) Since it is hard to actually catch him 'in', I decided to send an email stating that I was dismayed that he charged my card without permission, and since the merchandise had been returned, to please remove the charge from my card. I heard nothing back. I waited. My January credit card bill arrived and the amount had not been removed. I called the credit card company.

Yeah, more phone calling. Their representative said to give the supplier a call and ask one more time. I called and got voice mail. I left a detailed message. I never heard back. A few days before my February bill was due to arrive, I called the credit card company to see if the charge had been removed.

Nope. So, the credit card company has temporarily removed the charge and filed a dispute with the company. They give them up to 65 days to respond. In the meantime, I have heard that another piano tech has been unable to reach this guy. I wonder how much money he's holding on to that isn't his?

And now for the good news...
I've almost finished doing all our income tax returns. A total of 21 pages!

Don't Call Us, We Don't Call You!

Probably about half of you know about a certain criminal harassment case that my local police have filed, on my behalf, against my ex. After over 4 years of nasty harassing emails, impersonating me online and trying to ruin my business the ex finally got the message. Mostly. Sort of. Well, I guess he figures email and online stuff are out of the question because, quite frankly, he got caught. Since he is now residing in the 'motherland' UK, the only current result of the pending case is that he would be arrested if he tried to enter this country.

So what's a bored ex to do?

There's always my parent's (now mom's) telephone.

Gee whiz.

Back on October 9, 2006, we came home to my folk's house and there was a message on their answering machine. We had just missed it by minutes. Twas the ex looking for me. I *69'd the call, wrote down the phone number and got online to check a reverse look-up. I was amazed to discover that the number had been discontinued 3 months prior and had belonged to an international software company that was being investigated in a multi-million dollar fraud case. Hah! What a number to have 'spoofed'*.

So I made a tape recording of the digital message and added it to the somewhat dormant case file at the police station. They offered to file additional charges against the ex, but my thoughts were why bother.

Fast forward over a year and here we go again!

Tuesday, my mom and I went to Barnes & Noble bookstore so that I could pick up my copy of "Schuyler's Monster" (see the sidebar). When we got back to her house about 2 hours later, I noticed that there were two messages on her machine. I headed for my place while my mom got settled in and I heard her start the answering machine. When I went back downstairs, she called to me to have a listen.

Two calls from the same place by two different people. Same background noise on both calls. Similar message as the one in 2006..."Hello, hello, is anyone there, I'm looking for Mr. (insert my dad's given name instead of mine), hello, hello?" Funny how when listening to the background noise my ex's name is mentioned, loud and clear. The first voice is definitely his, the second voice sounds like someone who is trying way too hard to change their accent!

So, I make another tape recording, just in case. I didn't check the number as I am too busy to bother. I haven't bothered reporting it to the police or giving them a copy of the recording. This is just sooooooooo utterly absurd. I find it hard to believe that someone can't find something more interesting to do with his time!

*Spoofing - getting digital access to 'steal' a phone number for usually fraudulent use. In another instance my Caller ID showed 000-000-0000. I called the phone company to ask, "What's up with this?" They said it's not possible unless someone had the computer software to 'use' whatever numbers they wished in an attempt to disguise the origin of the call.

D____, he must have a boring life.

Oh Snowy Day

So they said it would start snowing around 10 a.m. The worst would be mid afternoon and in to the evening. Should continue through Saturday morning.

Yeah, right.

I got up at 7 a.m. and guess what?

Hey, you guessed it! It was already snowing.

I went on a couple errands mid-morning. By the time I got back home I had decided to reschedule the afternoon job that was to begin at 3:30. I hate rescheduling. I feel like I'm letting the customer down. But I hate driving in treacherous conditions even more. I got home and noticed that the Caller ID and answering machine were both blinking. It was my afternoon customer. I had done a lot of keywork and was to return with them today and also tune the piano. A $355 job that I hated to postpone but...... The customer left a message that considering the weather, it would be okay to come anytime...earlier or another day, whatever I wanted.

I called back and told him I would be there in 20 minutes.

It was an uneventful drive. The streets had been well salted and were just wet. Mr. H met me in the driveway and carried my tool kit while I carried the piano keys in to his house. I told him I would be approximately an hour and a half on the job and he left me to get busy.

About fifteen minutes before I was finished (I just had some final pedal adjustments to make), Mr H. asked for the bill and said he would be heading for the local ATM machine, "Would cash be all right?"

You bet.

I finished up and got my tools put away. Mr. H returned and sat down at the piano. Oh my, that guy can play! He played and listened, played and listened, tried different chord progressions and crisp repetitions. He listened some more. I was starting to get nervous. Was he hearing something that he didn't like? After a few more progressions he stopped and looked over at me. "This is good," he said with a grin. "This is really fine."

I started breathing again.

We chatted a bit about some local jazz performers and about Mr. H's plans for a recording studio. Mr. H counted out twenties as we were talking. Then he asked me to double check the bill count. He insisted. I started counting out piles of twenty dollar bills, stacking them in fives. I got to $360 and noticed there was still another pile. I stopped. "You've got far too much here," I said. "No," said Mr. H. "You take it all, please."

$460!!!!

Quite a snow day.

The High Road

When I moved to Rockport, I knew that it would not be an easy business transition. I moved to an area that is virtually an island. This island has an approximate population of 20,000 and already had two established piano technicians. Based on the wonderful business atmosphere and open sharing among colleagues that I had experienced in Florida, I was hoping for the same in my new locale.

Things went well, if slowly, at first. I was sure to make positive contacts with the other piano techs and to offer my services at a reasonable rate. I also made it clear that I did not intend to step on professional toes. For the first couple of years this worked. I did numerous key work and player piano work for other technicians giving more than fair prices for top notch work. I loaned tools, I gave away supplies when they were in a pinch. Over the past two years I found my generosity being tested. Now discounts were demanded and every job they wanted done was 'put a rush on it'. As a result, I broke all ties to these individuals. As each got their share of bad headlines in the news, they also got their share of accolades. Most recently, the most island ingrained of these techs had a front page write-up in the Gloucester Times followed swiftly by a glowing letter-to-the-editor. Yes, this bothered me a bit. But what bothered me more was the unfounded and purely propaganda ridden expert testimony that spewed forth from this tech. Totally professionally inaccurate information. Still I kept my silence.

I received a call from a man in Gloucester. He had an older console piano on his enclosed porch. It had been ages since he had played it but he had been undergoing chemo and thought it might be relaxing to start playing again. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that the piano wasn't too far out(of tune). It would be a routine job involving tuning and lubricating a couple of sticking notes. As Mr. T heard me finishing up, he came into the room with his checkbook. "How much?" I told him the same price that I had quoted on the phone. "Well, you've done extra work, " he says. "You've gotten those keys to work." "No extra charge for that," I say. He remarked that he would be adding a sizable tip to the amount. And...that the next time he saw that other tech's name in the paper he was going to "take serious action"..."He's a thief, " he said(among other things). I kept my silence.

Then I was called upon to tune a not-so-bad, no-name grand piano. As I was getting my tool kit opened, Mrs. Z apologized for the piano being so miserably out of tune. She had gotten it for free. Once she had it moved to the house, she just didn't know who to call for the tuning. She "certainly wasn't going to call those people from Gloucester that had moved it" and on and on. The customer had gotten my name from her insurance agent (my agent, as well). The tuning was a big job. Pitch raise and fine tuning. As requested, I had brought spare ivories to repair some missing ones. Mrs. Z was thrilled, so glad she had found me. Never would she call those others. Still my lips sealed.

Last Friday, I headed for Lanesville to give a work estimate on an old upright. Most often these pianos have been neglected for years. I was surprised to find a decent piano needing some moderate remedial work. The owner is a professional recording musician. Super nice guy, actually a tad overly gracious! He told me that he had taken a great deal of care in locating the 'right' person to do the work on his piano. He knew about those others. He had thoroughly checked out everyone and knew he had chosen correctly.

And yesterday, I tuned a stubborn Steinway M for a professional jazz musician. He had already had other tuners. He wouldn't call them again. I inquired why. "The tunings didn't last more than a couple of days, " he said. Yes, this piano was a tough tune. But that's just part of the profession. Some are like that, so extra time and extra effort is involved. I told him that, in all fairness, the piano was difficult to tune. The tendency to flagpoling pins and the entire piano rocking to and fro as I worked. That he may find a few notes 'out' sooner than expected. Just to call me and I'd be out to take care of it...no additional charge. I said that maybe the others had experienced a similar 'stubborness' and just needed the opportunity to 'clean up some bad spots'. He said that they had tried that and he still wasn't happy. (Truthfully there were some notes that were sooooo bad compared to the rest of the piano that I don't see how any tech could have left them that way.) So far (at least until this typing!), Mr. W thinks I'm the only decent tech in the area!

I'm happy to do everything I can to make your piano meet your needs. I want your piano to EXCEED your expectations.

Honesty, quality, fairness, and the high road.

Creative Problem Solving

This article is copied from a post on a Yahoogroup. It was reported as a true story.


HOW TO CALL THE POLICE WHEN YOU'RE OLD AND DON'T MOVE FAST ANYMORE.


George Phillips of Meridian, Mississippi was going up to bed when his
wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, which
she could see from the bedroom window.

George opened the back door to go turn off the light but saw that
there were people in the shed stealing things.

He phoned the police, who asked "Is someone in your house?" and he
said "no". Then they said that all patrols were busy, and that he
should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available.

George said, "Okay, " hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again.

"Hello, I just called you a few seconds ago because there were people
in my shed. Well, you don't have to worry about them now cause I've
just shot them all." Then he hung up.

Within five minutes three police cars, an Armed Response unit, and an
ambulance showed up at the Phillips' residence and caught the burglars
red-handed.

One of the Policemen said to George: "I thought you said that you'd
shot them!"

George said, "I thought you said there was nobody available!"

Last Week/This Week

Thought I'd take a few moments to post some updates.

A few days ago I posted about the prescription insurance plan mess that I have been trying to sort out for my mom. I can't remember at the moment what day I made the 2.5 hours worth of calls, but I was supposed to hear back from THE company (Lucent) within 48 hours.

Nothing the next day.

Second day rolls around. 47th hour rolls around. Same women at the benefits center that had been soooo rude managed to call with 10 minutes to spare before the deadline. And what does she tell me? She has researched the matter and will be in touch with Medco (the plan that should have been canceled 6 weeks ago). We should hear 'something' within 5 business days! I politely verbally assaulted her for the lax attitude on the part of Lucent, the poor manner with which this was being handled, blah, blah, blah. She again implied that I hadn't spoken with the correct Medco. I was furious but kept my cool as she continually repeated the one-liner, "I understand your frustration, ma'am". Oh, she has no idea. As soon as this is resolved the Lucent benefits center will be getting a formal letter of complaint about her. Yes, I have her name.

I called Medicare, once again. They have now filed grievances against Medco and notified Humana of what's going on. They have also submitted the paperwork for retroactive re-enrollment with Humana. They estimate a 15 day response time.

Meanwhile my mom is having to pay out-of-pocket for her prescriptions. The pharmacist told her that they are only allowed up to 14 days for resubmitting.

Heads are going to roll.
***********************************

One of the gifts that Amanda got for Christmas from my mom was a subscription to TV Guide. My mom paid in full for a year's worth. She just got a bill claiming that she still owed over $16. I looked in to it and discovered that they were trying to sneak in an additional 28 weeks. Today I copied all the receipts and her canceled check and wrote them a note. Sheesh.
***********************************

The weather has been snowy and cold. My arthritis is really acting up with shoulder pain, left wrist pain, right elbow, and now terrible pain in the 'ball' of my left foot. When I get up in the morning I can hardly bend that foot to walk. Doesn't hurt if I curl my toes the opposite direction, though. I let a very hot shower pound my foot and tonight it's a bit better. I hope it lasts through to morning!
***********************************

This Wednesday is the day of dread. Amanda has to be at the oral surgeon at 9 a.m. to have two impacted wisdom teeth extracted. I keep telling myself that I WILL survive it.
***********************************

Beginning tomorrow and lasting for however long it takes, I'll be looking for a little part-time job. This is a traditionally slow time of year for piano work and combined with the troubled economy, it's even worse. So I'm looking for a way to earn a tad more. Things will be tight until my truck is paid off next November. Thankfully, I got a couple new tuning customers in the last week and I'm going to look at a repair job Monday morning. So far this week there will be two key jobs, one of them extensive. I refuse to have to worry about money and the logical solution is, of course, to supplement my self employment income.

Cellar Studio Slideshow

Well finally! I figured out how to make the sidebar slideshow happen. You will now see the Cellar Studio paintings updated there. I hope. So while I am able to get the first seven working, who knows what will happen when I try to add more. Time will tell. (This bit only took an hour!) Also, you can always go to my Flickr page to see the same!

Leaving Optimism

I really haven't a clue about how to describe what has changed my attitude. All I can definitely say is that it culminated today.

I had hoped that the logistic problems with prescription drug coverage for my mom had finally been resolved. Just over two weeks ago I was told that all we had to do was get a termination (of the old coverage with Medco) letter from Alcatel/Lucent (the company to which my dad gave 29 working years) and forward a copy to the new prescription coverage company, Humana. Then they could refile all the paperwork with Medicare and all would be well.

All is not well.

Today, my mom went to pick up a prescription that she HAS to take. The pharmacist said that her coverage had expired. Mom came home in a panic. It was 12:30 pm. Here's what then transpired.

I got all the paperwork out once again, including all the notes that I had made with the previous calls in December and January, and I called Humana, the new drug coverage. After the push button phone routine and a five minute wait, Humana said that the problem was with Medicare. They had rejected the Humana coverage four times. There was nothing that Humana could do until Medicare allowed the coverage through Humana. Call Medicare.

I called Medicare. Yep, push buttons and wait fifteen minutes. Medicare says that they cannot allow Humana until Medco notifies them of termination. Medicare will file a complaint to Medco but I needed to call Medco and insist that they notify Medicare of the termination. Medicare gave me the toll-free Medco phone number.

I called Medco. They have a recorded, voice activated system that got mad at me because none of the questions that were auto-asked applied to this situation. I went in circles because you have to have an active account to answer the questions and the coverage was canceled 12/31/07. Finally, I just refused to answer any questions. The recording cycled three times and then put me on hold for a representative. Twenty minutes later I talked to a human at Medco who told me that Medco is not responsible for notifying Medicare, Alcatel/Lucent is to do it. The lady at Medco confirmed that my mother no longer had coverage through them. I needed to call Alcatel/Lucent to have them notify Medicare.

I called Alcatel/Lucent. I played push button for a short while and then had to wait thirty minutes for a benefits center representative. I gave her the short version of what was going on. And what does she say????
Alcatel/Lucent does not contact Medicare, Medco must do it. I told her that I had just talked to Medco and that they said they couldn't. It had to be done by Alcatel/Lucent. She said that as long as coverage was active, the termination notice had to be from Medco. I told her that the coverage was terminated on 12/31/07. I have a letter from Alcatel/Lucent confirming termination. She said that Medco showed it as active. I told her that I had just checked directly with Medco and that they said it was terminated. She argued and insinuated that I had lied about contacting Medco.

I asked to speak to a supervisor. She said she was the supervisor. Then she said that she would take care of the situation and to expect a call back within 48 hours. I told her that I expected not only the call, I expected the problem to be satisfactorily resolved within 48 hours or the next call that they received would be from my attorney and that I would also take the story to the major Boston news networks.

And she said, "Thank you, m'am". I hung up on her. Two and a half hours on the phone.

My mom went back to the pharmacy and paid full price for her prescription. She's keeping all the receipts because, believe me, someone, other than my mom, is going to pay for this.

And if that weren't bad enough. I've been working on income taxes. I preface this by saying that really and truly, I haven't missed some major (or minor) tax saving item. I read and reread all the instructions, line by line, and triple check. I cannot believe how totally screwed up this country and this state are.

My net income is below the national poverty level. I work very hard, but net very little. It is a monetary sacrifice that I have become comfortable with in order to be able to enjoy what I do. My living expenses are microscopic in comparison to most people. So here I am with a net income below the national poverty level yet I owe tax on that income. Now I don't mind that I have to pay self employment tax. That is paid to cover Social Security income and Medicare once I'm 65+ (assuming the government continues to honor the system by the time I qualify). But I owe ordinary income tax! A very small amount to the feds and twice that to the state. This is the same state that is paying for my mandatory health insurance because I qualify because I'm below poverty level. It's extremely discouraging.

Several weeks ago, a Rockport resident wrote a letter to the editor that was published in the GDT. After a lengthy description of a sequence of events, the writer declared that the multitude of airplane vapor trails that she had seen in a short period of time had left a purplish filmy deposit on her truck. She, upon addition consult with some other friend, believed that what they had seen and the purple film was the government secretly trying to control weather systems.

Wacko, I thought. Now well.........maybe she wasn't so far off. Just not weather. Things are terribly askew.

I'm exhausted, through and through. Now I shall put my head to my pillow and have a good cry before sleep.