grrgoyl: (Bad Jesus!  Very Bad!)
R.I.P. Sony: You put up a hell of a fight


At last the 27" Sony TV is gone. If you're wondering why it took so long, it was because the 19" Philips LCD arrived but had two very obvious dead pixels at the top and bottom of the screen, glowing blindingly red and green respectively. I felt for the amount of money I paid this was unacceptable and sent it back to Amazon. I've been living with the fire hazard of a Sony all this time and today the new Philips finally arrived.

I was going to cancel the order completely when I saw what a 19" screen translates to in real life: Tiny. I was foolishly optimistic when I read the dimensions that stated a 16" height; deceiving because that includes the pedastal stand and screen frame. However, after getting the Sony downstairs (as I predicted, in a bodybag), I'll never regret my little 15-pound Philips again.

I thought going downstairs would be far easier than up. After all, it was going to the Dumpster so care wasn't necessary to keep it in one piece. I removed the back casing from the tube which, as I feared, did nothing whatsoever to reduce the weight. I snipped off the electronics hanging from the back and tried to carry the tube with its remaining flimsy surround downstairs.

Oh my lord. With every step more of the plastic crumbled away, leaving shards of shrapnel in my wake and fewer and fewer gripping options. By the time I got down to ground level, the thing was in so many pieces that not even the cheapest of tightwads would have been able to salvage it.

I staggered down the stairwell and halfway across the lot with it before stopping to rest. Bless his soul, my new young neighbor was just getting home and offered to help me the rest of the way, and I was far too exhausted to be proud. He asked what had happened to the TV, understandably; it looked like I had taken a tire iron to it. "It's dead," was all I could wheeze out. We got it to the Dumpster and leaned it on the side (there was no question of hoisting it up to toss into the bin proper). When I feel guilty throwing away bulky items like this, Tery reminds me that people leave things like couches (and once even a refrigerator) out there, and per week I recycle more than our entire building.

I got back inside and surveyed the damage. My legs, which had finally healed from the first trip, were again covered in cuts and bruises. I also had a pretty nasty laceration on my left hand that nearly cost me my career as a Guitar Hero. So yes, 19" is just fine for me.

Oh, speaking of Guitar Hero...


I have now mostly completed the Medium level. There's no point in defeating the boss at the end because I simply can't imagine ever being good enough for Hard, let alone Expert. Those solos are devilishly tricky. Fortunately for me the die-hard Kitten Mitten fans are content as long as I check back in every fourth measure or so. After practically developing carpal tunnel trying to get through Metallica's "One" (have a whole new respect for Kirk Hammett), I sullenly slunk back to my triumphant final bonus song from the Easy level. I chuckled fondly as I remembered what a curveball the two-fingered chord was for me in those days.

My wireless guitar controller is having trouble recognizing the orange key to get me out of the bonus setlist. I've emailed Red Octane who suggest exchanging it, but at this point I really don't see what use I'll have for the key anyway (other than exiting the bonus setlist).

Facebook is dead to us


Most of Tery's friends and family it seems are on Facebook. She's constantly receiving invitations to join. The other night she finally agreed to set up an account, unfortunately drunk. Come morning she couldn't remember her password. When she tried to have it emailed to her, she was sent a link to a page that said it was an invalid link, click here if you forgot your password -- to be sent a link to a page that said it was an invalid link, and so on in an endless Möbius strip. The invites and the profile update notifications from her family kept coming though, and she felt like there was a big party going on that she couldn't get into. Look, there, through the window: her 15-year-old cousin only has 3 friends because Tery can't get in to add her. Poor lonely Megan.

She begged me to set up an account just so we could access the damn page, and I did so (sober). I stuck around long enough to add all my friends that Facebook helpfully finds for you based on your basic information.

This morning I received the notification that JeffyJeff had added me back, as well as an invitation to check out his profile. When I did so and tried to enter what I thought was my password, it wouldn't take it. I clicked to have it emailed to me, and found myself stuck in the same maddening loop of useless options that Tery did. I asked her "In the FAQ they suggest emailing them at login@facebook.com for help, did you..."

"Yep." she cut me off grimly. "Tried that. Still waiting to hear back from them."

So, here we both sit with Facebook accounts floating in cyberspace, unable to access them. For our friends who think we created them only to be murdered a short while later, 'tis not true. Facebook is just a stupid, stupid site. We'll have to be content with Guitar Hero as our closest contact to youth culture.
grrgoyl: (Office Poop)
Last entry of the year! (At the risk of building up undue excitement around it....) Don't worry, won't be one of those drab "What I accomplished/learned this year," just a plain old update, cuz that's how I roll.

Now we can afford to pay our electric bill


You'll be happy to hear Tery took first place in the lighting contest handily, despite an eleventh hour freak-out when she noticed her latest addition, a strand of LED lights, was only half lit (chintzy environmentally friendly lights). Second went to, of all people, Tracey the Crankwhore, whose display amusingly included those electric deer that people scatter on their front lawns -- however, having only a tiny balcony, she positioned them instead with their heads jutting over the side in an unconscious (?) imitation of the way her dogs glower down, waiting for passing neighbors to bark at. At first we were pleased that she was participating and acting like she wanted to belong to the community, until we noticed she had taken it down again after a mere three nights of operation, seeming to suggest all she cared about was the prize money. This would have made it a very bitter pill to swallow had she beaten us.

~*~

Can't keep a Guitar Hero down


In TV news, when the new Aquos arrived, the old 27" Sony had gone upstairs, a process so arduous and injurious (to the appliance as well as to yours truly) that it was clear it would only be going back downstairs feet first, so to speak; this TV weighs probably 100 pounds. Lacking a better option, I had it balanced precariously on a sturdy metal stool temporarily. Temporarily was becoming permanently until I hooked up an old DVD player to it, and then the new Playstation (for Guitar Heroics while Tery was watching football). Suddenly we had massive cable clutter and so a proper stand was in order.

I risked a retail environment on the day after Christmas. I agonized a good 30 minutes in the Target aisle between a $50 ugly silver one that might tolerate the weight, and a $70 black one that certainly would but was kind of enormous. I opted for the cheaper and prayed it wouldn't be instantly crushed. I got it home, got it built, then the moment of truth. I crouched over the set to make the transfer, shifted it just an inch in the wrong direction.....and the stool literally PUNCHED through the bottom of it. I staggered and set it on the floor on its side (in what was more a controlled fall than a deliberate action) which put a huge crack in the side of the casing.

God DAMMIT. The entire bottom of the set had crumbled away, exposing the motherboard inside. The front buttons had been shoved backward so they were no longer flush with the panel. I thought I had killed it for sure, after investing all this time and money in it. I plugged it in gingerly (sparks flew), and it took a good 5 minutes, but the damn thing powered on. Sony gets my ringing endorsement! But, I wasn't at all comfortable using a TV with so much exposed wiring that sparked every single time it was plugged in.

At first I turned to Craigslist, but after three hopeful inquiries went ignored, I asked myself why I wanted to be saddled with another heavy old relic and instead went to Amazon, where I found a lovely 19" Philips LCD instead (Christmas bonus money from the hospital -- we won a sweepstakes from the Home Again pet microchip company, awarded $250 each on Amazon). It'll look silly on this stand built to hold a 32", but I predict it will also look fantastic in our tiny loft.

~*~

I fought the law and I won


The new TV-buying quest almost ended prematurely, however, when I received a Toll Violation Penalty Assessment. Back when we bought our Aquos, when we had left one Best Buy in disgust for another, the most direct route between them was via Colorado's E-470, an isolated toll road that I never, ever take because it goes around the outskirts of the city and so is normally not very useful. In this case it most definitely would help though, so we stopped at a gas station specifically to get change for the toll. I got on the highway, paid my $1.75 and we were on our merry way. We passed a toll plaza just a few miles short of our destination, way off down the side of a hill on an exit. "Do we need to stop there?" Tery asked as we flew past. "No, I paid the toll. Why would we have to stop again?"

Well. It turns out, whereas other sensible states stretch their toll plazas across the entire highway and require you to stop once to get a ticket stub, and once to pay it at the other end depending on your distance, backwoods Colorado has their plazas stuck way off to the side to leave the main road free for EXpressToll members with transponders to commute unfettered. Nowhere is there a sign telling you to stop (that we saw), and there are no less than 6 of these "mandatory" exits along the entire route. Not terribly convenient for the casual user.

Hence my penalty assessment, to the tune of $78. I considered my options. As loathe as I was to miss a day of work for a hearing, I also felt it was outrageous to pay such a high price for what was an honest mistake. Then I read the fine print, which stated that "not intending to miss the payment or go through the EXpressToll lane" wasn't considered a legal defense. So much for my metaphorical leg.

I called the next morning, determined to weep my way out of it. I got a very pleasant Mexican lady who asked for my information. Before I could muster my first tear, however, she announced, "What I can do for you is waive the fee, since it is your first time and you did not know." She went on to explain to me about the 6 stops and the correct process for using the road. I explained I was from New England where things are different. "I know!" she commiserated. "In Mexico, the booth goes across the WHOLE ROAD so you HAVE to stop." THANK YOU. Even Mexico, with all the problems plaguing it, knows how to set up toll booths.

I paid my $8.75 court fee gladly, thanked her profusely, even said "God bless you!" (what she doesn't know about my agnosticism won't hurt her). Tery and I agreed that she had the best job in the world, handing out "get out of jail free" cards all day to surprised, grateful people. Tery thought maybe she was only allowed to give out four a day, so I was lucky I called early. At any rate, my two points are these: A) If you're receiving so many appeals that the waiver is given out with so little fuss, maybe perhaps you need to change the system so people aren't fined in the first place, and B) if it's too much hassle rebuilding the booths, make the fine more reasonable, say $25. The offense isn't vehicular manslaughter, for heaven's sake. Fewer people would bother to contest it, you'd make more money, win-win.

That is all for this year. Happy New Year, every one!

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December 2011

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