I bought a giant sunflower head at the farm market last week, and finally got around to hanging it from one of the trees. It took the squirrels a day to strip it bare and leave it in pieces on the ground. This guy was so excited he was like Ramona Quimby, who took a single bite out of each apple in an entire box, on the grounds the first bite is always the best.
Click to enlarge. These black squirrels are aggressive bastards, but this one will have a very glossy coat.
My iPhone’s been giving me problems for a few weeks, and Saturday I finally managed to organize myself into a trip to the Genius Bar. The Genius Bar is the only part of the Apple experience I don’t like, and the part I don’t like is the name. Also, that you have to make an appointment, but that’s a byproduct of success. I don’t think I’ve been in an Apple store in the last five years when it hasn’t been crowded.
So I get to the Genius Bar, and I tell them my sad tale of woe. He stops me one-third of the way through the narrative and says, “OK, you get a new phone. Hang on, I’ll get you one.”
This is the typical G.B. experience for me: I have a problem, they give me a new one. Alan’s computer has had its motherboard, hard drive and wifi innards replaced over the years, all without data loss. For a while I wondered if I’d get a thrilling new third-generation iPhone, but no, they replaced my second-generation model out of old inventory, or maybe it was reconditioned — they can’t tell, and neither can I. Anyway, I got a brand-new phone, and since I’d backed up the old one the day before, all I had to do was plug it into my laptop when I got home, wait a few minutes, and unplug it with everything exactly the way it was on the old one, minus the problems but including my home-screen photo of Eastern Market vegetables and custom ring settings.
In the middle of this, a man about my age approached the G.B. “I downloaded the new software for the iPod Touch, and when I reloaded it, it blew up the iPod,” he groused. “Spent an hour on the phone with tech support.”
The Genius looked regretful. “OK, you get a new one,” he said, whisking it away.
The curmudgeon caught my eye. “I was going to get an iPhone,” he said. “But not now! This settles it!”
I said nothing, but he went on. “This is ridiculous! Thing just quit!”
I said, “You’re getting a new one.” The Genius walked up at this point, unwrapping a new iPod Touch.
“Is that some reconditioned job?” the old fart said.
“I don’t know,” the Genius said. “They don’t tell us. It could be brand new, or it could be factory reconditioned. If it doesn’t work, we’ll replace it, too.”
“It has scratches on it!” crowed Mr. Grouchypants.
“Oh, no,” said the Genius, before it was pointed out the scratches were on the box, and the iPod was indeed shiny and twinkling.
“What if this blows up, too?” asked Grouchypants.
“We’ll replace it, but if that happens, the problem’s with your computer,” the Genius said. “We’ll take a look at that, if you like.” Grouchypants fell silent. Aha! Probably a PC user.
To be sure, an hour on the phone with tech support can turn anyone into a jerk — it certainly does me. But I doubt he’d get better service, or a new device, from Sony. Wait until he goes home, syncs it up and realizes, hey, I have a new iPod now. I wonder if he’ll feel guilty for jerkitude. Unlikely.
Encroaching jerkitude is a hazard of middle age. Your back hurts, your ass sags, you can’t get waited on in a deli without wearing a purple pashmina and a metallic gold tote bag, so often the logical reaction is: I think I’ll lash out at the next person forced to interact with me. I’m going to blow Dentu-Creme breath all over his or her unlined face. I try to remember this when someone is a jerk to me. (Not always successfully, I should add.) Add a keyboard and internet connection to the mix, and it’s a wonder anyone is ever civil.
I love my new phone. It’s shiny and unscratched. And it, unlike the last one, can find a wifi signal.
The boat haul-out went pretty well. The boat is out, anyway. The marina added a bunch of security since we were last there in the spring; there are now card keys and beeping gates. I don’t know if they’ve had theft problems, but it would be a miracle if they didn’t, as boats can be hard to secure and much of what’s valuable about them sits out in plain sight. Last year we passed a handsome cruiser with a high-end flat-screen TV bolted to the outside bulkhead, facing the cocktail deck. Maybe the owner found blue skies and sea gulls boring, or maybe he wanted to work on his tan while he watched golf, but a smart thief could have a field day stripping that vessel clean.
OK, time to start the day. I have no bloggage, because I realize I’m posting all my amusing links over on Facebook. Here’s an oldie from last week that still makes me giggle. Detroit, you’re a town with my kind of fun:
Farmington Hills — The Detroit Symphony Orchestra’s chief financial officer will be sentenced next month after he and his wife pleaded guilty to inciting a riot outside an Ohio nursing home.
Have a swell day, all.