Category: Going for Broke

Cross platform incompatibility strikes a blow for the evil empire

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There was really only one reason why I bought an iPod, to listen to music. That’s what I keep telling myself now; but there was a time when I had bigger plans. Rationalization is an extremely important part of my life. Being every bit the lowly hourly wage earner, I needed every reason I could conjure for dropping three big ones on a souped up Walkman. I thought I had a doozie in portable mass storage; or more importantly: cross platform, plug ‘n play, re-writable, portable mass storage.

On the eve of my monumental purchase I pleaded with my cost conscious bride. “But I can use it every day to bring my files back and forth to work. It will be so cool.”

Post purchase, I can say iPodding is indeed cool (like you needed me to tell you that). My Mac flavored iPod can do many things, as advertised. But alas, my Mac flavored iPod apparently does not do Windows. You can format the iPod’s hard drive to be recognized by Windows or the Mac OS – but not both (at the same time). Since I work in a Windows world, and because my Vader like Dell box at work is Window’s champion in the long ago decided “platform wars,” I am one glum chum.

Something is terribly wrong

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Something is causing me to hallucinate. Could it be a tumor? Am I having a breakdown? Is the fabric of reality itself crumbling at my feet?

Morton Plant Hospital sent us not one, but two checks. That’s right boys and girls, a representative of the U.S. health care system is sending me money. Haven’t they got this relationship backwards?

The kicker is this money was sent to us unsolicited. They were not dragged, kicking and screaming to their checkbook, starring down the muzzle of a lawsuit. I don’t think the hospital has even crossed my mind in the last six weeks. Out of the blue, two checks show up. I’m stunned. What am I supposed to do now? Do I cash the checks or seek medical attention?

Government v. Business, revisited

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When conservatives say that government should be run more like a business, I hope to God they’re not referring to the insurance business.

Let me start by saying, the facts of the case I’m about to explain are mostly undisputed. The involved parties are: me, my wife, my daughter’s doctor, my daughter’s specialist, our insurance company, and our pharmacist. Here are the pertinent, undisputed facts:

1. My daughter has been correctly diagnosed with a condition that generally responds to medication.
2. This condition should be treated.
3. There is a relatively new medication that sometimes works when other’s do not.
4. This medication is not normally covered by insurance, unless the other alternatives have been tried first.
5. My daughter has taken all of the available, relatively cheap, alternative medications; which did not work.
6. My daughter’s doctor has submitted the correct documentation in order for insurance to approve the medication.
7. My daughter’s doctor wrote the prescription one month ago, and we attempted to get it filled immediately.
8. Our pharmacy is in possession of a properly completed, hand written prescription from our daughter’s physician.
9. Insurance has approved the prescription.
10. We have attempted to pick up the prescription more than once, AFTER insurance “approved” the prescription.
11. We still have not been able to actually purchase the medication.

That last one bears repeating: we still have not been able to purchase the medication. Why on earth not? Now we get into the disputed facts:

1. Insurance claimed that Beth’s doctor did not send them anything on a timely basis. In fact, Beth’s doctor provided us with FOUR fax transmittal receipts, showing they did submit the documents on four different occasions – to the fax number provided by the insurance company. The first fax was less than one week after the doctor wrote the original prescription (immediately after we learned it would be necessary – based on my hunch, that insurance would not cover the script without some extra effort). The last fax was found right after Cheryl lost her temper with the unsuspecting insurance customer service rep. I find it amazing that force of will can affect the physical world in such a manner. I was taught in high school that matter could be neither created nor destroyed – but apparently it can be teleported with sufficient emotion.

“Nope, we still haven’t received it.” **ANGRY RESPONSE CENSORED** “Oh, here it is.”

2. The pharmacy did not submit the insurance claim correctly. In fact, in a rare display of dedication from a low wage, pharmacy tech, this author watched the pharmacy call the insurance company on two separate occasions – so that the insurance company could walk them through the process to make sure it was submitted correctly.
3. Beth’s doctor is not authorized to write prescriptions that are covered by our insurance company. In fact, we got prior approval to see the doctor – which we verified with our insurance company on the morning of our appointment. Further, insurance had approved two prior prescriptions written by this same doctor (less than three months ago). And finally, I called them on my cell phone from the pharmacy lobby – and they assured me the prescription had been approved. Why would they tell me the prescription was approved on the phone – as written by this doctor, and then deny it when the pharmacy submits the claim? How, in the name of all that is holy and good in this world, can my daughter’s prescription be approved by the insurance company, but the pharmacy claim be denied? Is it approved or not? It seems to be a black and white issue, a boolean variable, one or the other, MAKE A DAMN DECISION AND STICK WITH IT, #@$ !@%& *&!!

Here’s the score, as it stands today: one month, 25 phone calls, two trips to the pharmacy, two hours in the pharmacy lobby, 60 cellular minutes (30 of those cellular minutes spent in said lobby – the other 30 spent long distance from New Hampshire), zero prescriptions filled, AND TWO IRRITATED PARENTS.

I am pleased to announce that this month is the benefits open enrollment period for state employees. We have until October 15 to make a change to our chosen health insurance provider.

That dull ache in your head is not your imagination

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Sinusitis. The pain starts on the side of my face; under my eye and in front of my temple. The pain spreads to my eyebrow ridges, across the forehead and down the other side. The cheek bones come next, followed by a slight pain with each inhalation somewhere behind my nose.

Tension. The pain starts just under my hairline on my forehead. It slowly spreads to each temple and jumps the gap to the back of my head and neck.

The sinus pain is easy to explain, I have allergies which manifest themselves in chronic sinusitis. But why am I suffering from a tension headache? It is elementary my dear reader. Spending money on a new computer is freaking me out, man. I enjoy a new toy as much as the next guy, but spending three figures on anything has always given me pause. And when we were buying our house? I had to be fully sedated.

I am consoled by the fact that it is a neat new toy, but it is at home. That empty feeling in my pocket follows me everywhere I go, but I’ve only enjoyed my new purchase while I’ve been at home. Now picture this, Cheryl and I go out and buy a new computer. We come home, drop it off, and drive (sans new computer) to Cheryl’s parent’s house. From there we go out for dinner. When we finish with dinner, the group decides to go to Target to look for a new pair of sandals for Beth. (CAPTAIN! THERE’S A WHOLE LOT OF SARCASM DEAD AHEAD AND I’M NOT SURE SHE’LL HOLD UP TO THE STRAIN!!) Now I like shopping for sandals as much as the next guy, but it doesn’t hold a candle to a brand spankin’ new PowerBook.

We finally get home, but I’m still not free. Beth has been waiting to play her new Sponge Bob Typing program all afternoon. Being The Man means installing new software when it comes into the house – and suffering through one more distraction from the PowerBook. Soon Cheryl and Beth are going at it like two sisters arguing over the right way to braid Barbie’s hair. The game is not going well and they each have an idea as to how it should be played. (Cheryl has this real hang up with rules and “intended use.” Beth couldn’t really care less.) Being The Man means sitting quietly on the sidelines, hoping not to be drawn in, waiting patiently and hopefully for it all to pass – and suffering through one more distraction from the PowerBook. Sooner rather than later, our favorite television program comes on – just before our normal bedtime. Ravaged with indecision, I watched the show – further putting off playing with the PowerBook.

Now I’m at work.

Is it any wonder I’m so screwed up this morning?

A day of firsts

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Today was the first time that I pushed Cheryl around the mall in a wheel chair. Today was the first time Beth broke the family room couch. Today was the first time that I went to the store and bought a shoot ’em up computer game.

Oh yeah, today was also the first time I posted an entry from the new computer.

Holy cow, you bought another new computer?

Yes, yes. Pilgrimages to the computer store are becoming quite frequent around these parts. There will doubtless be a day when these last few years will be looked back upon as the golden years of the Kauffman Family Household (version 2.2). As I look back upon the last few years I am filled with wonder. 2001: the year of the iBook. 2003: the year of eMac. 2004: the year of the PowerBook.

How sweet it is.

But why buy a PowerBook? There were three factors in the choice, 1) a windfall; 2) a wife that made me do it; and, 3) a little matter of spending it on your stuff before someone can think of something else to spend it on.

Take that new tube of envy, squeeze out a generous portion, and rub it all in baby!!!

Bugs, bug men, and that damn a/c unit

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So how was your Friday? I got a call from Cheryl on Friday afternoon saying the termite inspection turned up some bad news. I was just getting over digesting that lump of coal when she called back to say the termite guy saw something wrong with the a/c unit in the attic.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The end of the work day did not bring a reprieve. I get home and the a/c guy is sitting with my wife at the kitchen table. Neither one of them looks like child on Christmas morning. The a/c guy says to me, “you look worn out.” “Yeah, it’s been a long day”, I reply. “Tell me about it. You haven’t been sitting here TALKING WITH HER for the last thirty minutes.”

CAPTAIN, WE HAVE AN INCOMING BOGEY AT TWELVE O’CLOCK. SHE’S COMING IN HOT SIR!

At this point I don’t even want to know, but I’m about to find out anyway. It turns out the a/c guy did the work and handed Cheryl the bill… without giving an estimate of the charges first. According to Cheryl, he did about three minutes of work (it turned out all he had to do was unplug a drain pipe outside the house) and handed her a bill for two hundred dollars. This resulted in a couple of phone calls and a screaming session with the owner of the company. Cheryl started the fireworks by calling the owner to complain about the lack of an estimate before repairs were done, and to ask about “that other little problem” the owner said he would come out to fix “next week” (about three months ago). (He had installed a new a/c system less than a year ago and gave us a one year warranty on the instalation. It turned out several things were installed wrong, and we were calling him to fix those problems that fell under his warranty. The problem the guy came out to fix on Friday was a different problem, not under the original warranty.) “Cheryl, keep you damn money. I’ve been doing my best, but I’ve had a lot of bad luck lately. Do you know how much it costs me to stay in business? Do you know what, I don’t even want your money anymore.” (Yes, up to this point we had been on a first name basis with the owner.) First, Cheryl was chewed out by the owner for interrupting his busy day, then the guy in my kitchen was chewed up and spit out for not “handling” the customers. Cheryl insisted that she did not expect the service call was going to be free, and the owner relented and told her she could write a check for $99.00. The guy in my kitchen took the check from my wife and let himself out. He somehow managed to “accidentally” drop the check we gave him just inside our front door. I wonder if it was the last day with the company.

Anyone who would like the name of an a/c repair service to avoid can email me at their leisure. I’m happy to provide this service free of charge.

Loss

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It was a relationship that survived the milestones of young adult life. We got together in the fall of 1989, my first semester at the University of Florida. We shared countless drives across the state, traveling home from UF and back again. We were together through graduation from UF, a move to a new city and the first real job, and a marriage. We rode in the car together when my first child came home from the hospital. We took vacations together; visiting family in New England and Louisiana, hiking through the woods of Florida, Georgia and New Hampshire, and sampling the better life at some of Florida’s finest resorts. We’ve stayed together through the mundane: countless commutes back and forth to work, weekend errands, and weekday evening trips to Walgreen’s for that overpriced refill for a prescription medication.

Yesterday afternoon our relationship came to an end.

I was getting settled in my car, in the parking lot at work. The sun was shining and I reached for my trusty, yet grossly out of fashion Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses. I pulled the earpieces out to hook them behind my ears, but I stopped short. I heard a metallic snap and watched as one of the glass lenses fell to my lap. The wire frame had snapped. They would never again support the weight of a glass lens perched on my nose. I went to Costco and picked out a discounted pair of designer sunglasses to replace old faithful. When I got home, my wife exclaimed, “Hey, those look a lot better than your old Ray-Bans. You look sophisticated.”

Is there no one that feels my pain?

Further evidence of the decline of western civilization

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Alternate title: the shopping curmudgeon strikes back.

Vision statement: we hold these truths to be self evident, that retail, in general, sucks.

Hypothesis: the lowest form of humanity in the “new releases” section of the evolutionary ladder is Homo Sapiens Salesman.

The evidence: a phenomenon we call “Acute Idiopathic Phantom Price Shift”, or “AIPPS” (pronounced “apes”).

AIPPS typically strikes when a consumer is shopping for a product of moderate or high cost. An example would be high end mattresses. Say your typical consumer walks into a mattress showroom and evaluates some of the product. Your typical salesman might encourage the sale by suggesting: “the model you’re looking at is on sale, but the sale ends today.” The consumer might turn around and ask the salesman what the price will be tomorrow, after the “sale” ends. This is where we really separate the men from the apes. If the salesman is displaying the classic signs of AIPPS, he will say something that really sounds like it answers the question, but doesn’t. The most common example is the following response: “the sticker price on this product is….” What the salesman did not tell the unwitting consumer is how often he actually charges the “sticker price.” Instead of telling the consumer what the price of the product would be tomorrow, he evaded the question by playing on the consumer’s pre-conceived notion of what a “sticker price” represents. Bad salesman! Bad!

Why is it I ALWAYS show up to buy a product on the last day of a sale? Is this some kind of fantastic coincidence? Is there a different “sale” for each day of the work week; or, am I just being lied to?

Is it any wonder I don’t care for shopping?

iPod*, you Pod, we all should Pod

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Wouldn’t the world be a happier place if everyone could listen to music, good music, where ever we went? Just think, no one would be left at the mercy of waiting room muzak again. Personally, I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about the veneer of calm that elevator muzak represents. “Why do I need to be calm? IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG? IS THAT THE CABLE BREAKING?!?” Stand with me and shout to the world “NOT TODAY MY FRIEND.”

Newly enshrined among the legions of cool, I go forth with my new 20 gigabyte iPod* to beat back the musical tyranny of public spaces. Never again will I be lulled into unsuspecting serenity by sweet nothings whispered in my ear, from hidden speakers in the ceilings of America. My wit will remain sharp. My attention will be keen. My heart rate will remain elevated. I will not succumb.

—

Imagine if all consumer product advertising was held to the same standards as prescription medication,

“Using iPod* may cause hearing loss, headache, Tinnitus, attention deficit, hypertension, and embarrassing displays of enthusiasm. If you are easily embarrassed, or if you work with heavy equipment in public spaces, then iPod* may not be right for you.”

—

Regular readers may be surprised by this apparent purchase. Yes, my wife finally wilted under the strain of consistently applied pressure. My advice for bending the will of your spouse reads like a first-aid handbook, apply pressure and hold. Once again, I AM THE CHAMPION! Take heart, faithful readers. Heed my example. You too can finesse the marital fiscal binds that restrict our discretionary spending. It is possible. It can be done. Cool CAN be had in a small, $300 box. (Act now, free laser engraving from the online store is only available for a limited time!).

* iPod is a registered trademark of Apple Computer, and has been used here without their permission. Questions or complaints about the use of this registered trademark should be directed to: The Committee to Re-elect Dubya, at: www.thecowboyconservative.com.

Ouch

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It had to happen. The law of averages states that if you have too many outliers in one direction, something is bound to come along to balance the books. I just didn’t expect the hammer to fall on my poor, unexpecting iBook. It turns out my computer didn’t have The Qualifying Logic Board Problem after all. What does this mean? It means that it would cost around $400 dollars to fix. That’s a whole lot of hurting for a three year old computer with a replacement cost of around $800.

There is a light at the end of this tunnel, so don’t stop reading yet.

It was two nights ago. I was sitting in my family room, playing with my six year old, Revision B iMac (circa 1998), when my wife asked me if I wanted a new computer for the family room. The only thing more surprising than her question was my answer. “No”, I replied.

I think it may be time to see if that offer has expired.