The I-No-Own-Phone, The Final Part

 

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for Back to the Future

Over the past seven days, I have enjoyed my I-phone.  I was becoming well versed in calling, answering, texting, AND I added maps and weather.  This might be a good thing after all.  Out of my mouth to the techno-gremlins ears.

Yes, my I-phone became an I- no-own-phone.  Well, not exactly a no-phone; more like a no Wi-Fi  phone which, since it was also the hot spot for my I-pad, meant no e-mail and  connection to the lost world of adults.  I headed back to the AT&T store post haste.

Alex met me at the door.  With I-phone in hand, he poked, clicked, tapped, and angled to no avail.

 “You got any Wi-Fi on your phone?” he finally asked the salesperson next to him.

 “No, tower is down.”

 “The tower is down”, he relayed to me as if my hearing was also technically challenged.

“When will it be up?” I asked, as if he knew.

“Maybe Friday.”

I left and headed to McDonald’s for a much needed mocha frappe and Wi-Fi.  I spent Saturday at Whataburger for food and more Wi-Fi.  Sunday I parked next to the library for free Wi-Fi as I assumed the tower was still down since my I-phone wasn’t working.

Monday I was back at the AT&T store and caught Alex just as he was ducking behind the counter. The tower was up, had been for three days.  For the next three hours I stood, drank water, stood, drank water, stood and watched as everybody in the store tapped, clicked, poked, wired-up, switched out I-phones, tried an I-phone4s with no resulting Wi-Fi for me.   Finally Alex announced:

“I don’t know why it won’t work.”

I could have said that the minute I walked in.  The only thing they could do was RE.   RE-fund what I had paid, RE-connect my hot spot, RE-connect that to my I-pad, RE-set my pass word, and show me a selection of phones that would ring, vibrate, send and receive texts.  I chose one just like the one I got for the eleven-year-old.

It seems the 21^st century has ganged up on me.  The brain is willing, but the Techno-gremlins have declared otherwise. 

So here I sit with my lap-top waiting for the dial-up to catch up with my writing.  I will finish this piece for my blog.  Wait and eat lunch.  Google my blog.  Wait and do a load of laundry.  Copy and attach this piece.  Wait and go pick up the kids from school.  Insert this piece in the blog.  Wait. Prepare supper.  Hit send.  

After supper, dishes, homework, baths, I will crank up my hotspot, connect my I-pad, and e-mail friends that I have a new post.  After a full day of dial-up and waiting, I hope Alex’s Grandmother gives him a good talking to.

Gold Fish, Rightly So

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for doubloons 

Every kid wants a gold fish.  The parents buy two or three and get an aquarium.  In a month or so the kids lose interest.   The fish die and you flush. End of story.  Oh, there is the occasional funeral and even a rare commercial for Mr. Gold, a fish, who did not have life insurance but for the most part it is not a big deal...until now.
 
Two years ago the nine-year-old wanted gold fish.  For her birthday I got the aquarium, filter, light, bubbler, and three gold fish.  The first two followed the traditional path, died within two days, and were soon flushed.  She wanted replacements.  What the heck, at 18 cents a fish I could afford to be generous, so I bought two replacements expecting all to be over within a month.
 
When the fish were four months old, I had to find solid food weekend feeders for them as we were going away for the week-end.  When we planned a week long cruise, I had to search all over town for three somewhat expensive seven-day solid food feeders for the now one-year-old fish.  When we returned I half expected to have to flush some skinny fish.  Not so.  They were thriving.
 
When I mentioned this to my friends they said "What, you didn't have the one way valve connectors for the bubblers?  Man, you are lucky the electricity didn't go out while you were gone.  You could have returned with ten gallons of water syphoned out onto your carpet and some smelly 
fish." 




Before our next trip, I bought the one way valves for the bubblers which were not cheap.
 
At two and a half years old, the three fish are still alive and have grown to be five inches long lips to tail fin.  Every time I pass by the aquarium, I swear they are laughing.
 
Night before last, the eleven-year-old came running into the bedroom.
 
 "You've got to help me.  Margarita (I swear I don't know where she got that name although I could have used one right then) is being beaten up on by Tiger Eye and Goldie Locks.  They are pecking on her (I thought only birds pecked) and pushing her up against the glass.  You've got to do something."
 
My first thoughts were of an old cheer we used to do when we played John Tyler High School in football.  FLUSH THAT JOHN!  FLUSH THAT JOHN!  But knowing how tender hearted she could be when it came to dumb animals...and fish...I went to see what was happening.

 
Sure enough, Tiger Eye and Goldie Locks had it in for Margarita. 
 
"You've got to rescue Margarita." The only thing I had big enough to accommodate Moby Dick was my cut glass punch bowl, not exactly what my mother had intended it for when she gave it to me.
Nevertheless, we filled the punch bowl with dechlorinated water and moved Margarita into her new condo.  She did have a few scales missing and was listing a little to the left; Margarita, not my mother, although my mother does that, too, from time to time. 
 
"She should be fine," I said as I eyed the toilet.
 
"What about a bubbler?  She's going to need air."
 
"She will be alright tonight. In the morning I'll get a multiple connector for the pump.  Now go to bed."
 
The next morning I got up early to do any necessary flushing in case Margarita hadn't made it.  She was laughing at me on her side.  The bubbler that at been in the aquarium was in the punch bowl and my daughter's alarm had been set for midnight.  She had been switching the bubbler from one tank to the next all night.
 
I bought the multiple connector at Wal-Mart.  Last night we tried putting Margarita back into the aquarium with the bullies.  Nothing had changed. Margarita went back into the punch bowl.  At least there would be no switching bubblers back and forth during the night.
 
I googled "bullying gold fish".  According to the experts, a ten gallon aquarium is too small for three gold fish the size of ours.  Back to Wal-Mart for yes, another ten gallon aquarium, pump, filter, bubbler, lights, and plant.  Ka-ching.
 
I set up the aquarium and all the gear. I put Margarita in her new single digs.  She straightened right up, swam around, and I swear, smiled at me.
 
The relief on  my daughter’s face when she arrived home from school and saw Margarita swimming happily  in her very own ten gallon tank was worth all the trouble and expense to me. 

 However, later  while looking at the sales slip, Dr. Hubby commented "Now I know why they are called Gold Fish."
 
"You better hope she takes as good a care of us in our Golden Years as she does these Gold fish."
 
"Good point.  Maybe you should get a waterproof TV  to keep Margarita entertained.  After all, we want her to be happy."

And I Couldn't Wait for School to Start!

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for Geritol and orthopedic roller skates

The start of school must be like childbirth (or so I've heard.) When you have a strong desire for another child, you forget the morning sickness, mood swings, and the 96 hours of labor during which time you questioned the legitimacy of your husband's birth.  How quickly we forget; and how quickly we remember.  

3:30 a.m.  I’m awake.  Might as well get up; it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.  Hey, it’s quiet.  Time to write, after I put on a load of laundry.

6:00 Make lunches and breakfast, in that order

6:30 Get kids up, fed, dressed

7:20 Leave for school

8:05 Return home.  Now what?  Oh, cleaning, cooking, reset smoke detector, cooking again, Wal-Mart, laundry, errands.

1:00  Walk the I’ll –take-care-of-it-you-won’t-ever-have –to-do-anything-for-it-please-please-Dog. Eat lunch; look on blogs for a much needed laugh.

2:00 Pack snacks for after school

2:40  Leave to pick up kids

3-3:30   A blur of snatched snacks, “Sign this”, “Here’s a note.  It wasn’t my fault.” “Look. I got one right!” “This is the (worst, best, coolest, yukkiest) day of my life”.

3:31  Arrive home, throw out uneaten portions of lunches, kids eat “hold me till supper, supper.”

3:36 Start on second grade homework with second grader

3:37 Call second grade teacher for explanation of math assignment.

4:35  Finish with second grader, start on sixth grader.

4:36  Call sixth grade math teacher for help.

6:30  Send starving sixth grader to kitchen for supper while I Google algebra, composite numbers and www.u-b-dumb-n-math.com

7:31 Sixth grader informs you she needs map colors for map assignment due at 8a.m.

7:32 Leave for Wal-Mart to purchase map colors.

8:15 Arrive home, make peanut butter and jelly sandwich for starving second grader’s second supper, give map colors to sixth grader.

8:17 Send second grader to the showers, throw his favorite-must-wear-tomorrow shirt and shorts in the washer.  Rewash 3:30a.m. now dried and semi-sour laundry.

8:23 Call out spelling words to second grader while he is in the shower.

8:30 Sixth grader starts on solar system cut and paste project.

8:31 Google recipe for homemade paste.

8:50 Hold the solar system up in the air to dry as wet naked second grader runs through the house looking for a clean towel.

8:51  Dr. Hubby asks “Need any help?”

8:52   Shotgun located, now searching for shells.

8:59 Give up on locating shells, throw pajamas on now air dried second grader and send him to bed.

9:10  Hand near dry revolving solar system to sixth grader with instructions to pack backpack and go to bed.

9:20 Eat five chocolate cupcakes with a Chocolate Tru-Moo milk chaser.

9:30  Make more chocolate cupcakes

9:45 Reset smoke detector.

10:00 Breathing near normal, blood pressure  278/167 down 89 points.

10:15 Shower, brush teeth, tell Dr. Hubby it is safe to remove flak jacket.

11:00 Sleep

11:45  Jump up and put the favorite-must –wear-tomorrow shirt and shorts in the dryer along with twice washed 3:30 a.m. load

12:00 Sleep

3:30 a.m.  REPEAT with few variations.

I can do this.  I can do this.  Only 175 school days until summer!  It's the most wonderful time of the year.