The solstice, and I was up early, totally recovered from the banquet y’day. Didn’t gain an ounce. I took it upon myself to look even closer at how to patent my new puzzle. No further info on that, nobody knows including my lawyer friends, all of whom say it is still a good idea. Possibly patenting is just a formality. I briefly touched on related topics, such as the light bulb. The bulb was a useless patent until Edison also came up with an entire grid and metering system to market the electricity. This would be financially impossible today, even if the government would permit placing poles, wires and transformers in residential areas. Which they would not.
I was also up early because Jeff the jockey called. He is convinced I have a great radio personality. This might be written off to exuberance except he is saying the same things as San Diego and Spokane told me back in ’03. Jeff also sells radio time so go figure. That’s a disk jockey, not a horse jockey; Jeff weighs as much as some of the horses. If my Nokia phone worked, I would have invited him over y’day.
Jeff is a natural talker, you can hear him on Ft. Lauderdale 880 AM, and he is negotiating a deal with 1490 AM. Next Sunday (the 27th) I’m scheduled to be on the air with him, plugging this blog and possibly music and bingo. Bear in mind, Jeff is not the best at schedules. Although he sells them. He is the guy who markets those fridge magnets that list the high school sports games. Says Jeff, “It is the only thing people will apologize when they can’t buy.” Says Jeff.
And he is talker. “Unbelievikable. What’s your wife’s name and what does she like? Her name is Mrs. Jeff and she likes me. What time is it? You mean now? I went to see Dr. Zhivago. Are you sick again? Unbelievakable, the World Serious. Baseball should have ten strikes.”
He is also up on the current state of non-Internet advertising. Considering what the Internet advertising has done for credibility, he is a bit of an authority . Who has seen those ubiquitous ads for whitening teeth, discovered by “an unemployed housewife”? I’m wondering at what point a disseminator remains innocent. Google has that scam on every screen. The seller asks the sucker to okay a $1.97 “processing fee” that turns into them taking $79.90 out of your bank account every month. If you cancel, the fee is $99.00. Bad Google, bad!
Man, it is ice-butt cold today, down to 48 degrees. No, I don’t care to hear about how many physical degrees colder it is, was, or can be somewhere else. A lot of people have an Alzheimer’s-like difficulty remembering that I worked in Canada for years, I am not impressed by winter tales, and that I have already heard every last, single joke ever told in that backward, primitive country. Fifty times. Every last one of them. Read my lips.
Then I found time to go over to MetroPCS. As usual, they have plenty of staff to add phones or set up an account, but only slow-ass dummies to help the rest. That company typifies the death rattle of American industry. MetroPCS follows the exact formula I recommended for the phone company twenty years ago (but they did not listen). Forget the 80/20 rule and treat your unsatisfied customers like the recalcitrant bastards they really are. I mean, how much comfort do they want?
Bottom line is I miss Theresa, for although we never had time to squabble, we share a common view of “to hell with it”. That partly explains why the staff at Jimbos wonders when we will return.
