Ringers, "Bad Naked"

If you've been keeping track of the saga of my existence, you will know that I've been having strange phone problems. Saturday, I bought a new phone, complete with a 120-page manual in English and Spanish. It didn't take me long to realize that this did not solve my problem, contrary to being told by the folks at Bell South that my ringer was the culprit. I called BS and was told a technician would be there sometime Tuesday. (I'm tempted to make a funny about "my ringer," but that would be cheap and tawdry. 'Course that's never stopped me before.)

And so it came to pass on Tuesday morning, as I sprinted around the house getting ready for work, there was a knock on my front door. (The cats of course all ran and hid.) This is the door that is stuck because the house has shifted slightly, and I've not gotten around to having it fixed. (Along with about a score of other things.) So I went out the back door, and the technican said he wanted to let me know he would be testing the line. After about fifteen minutes, he indicated the problem was most likely inside. If you know about the phone business, they are responsible for the outside only; if the problem is inside, it is your cost.

In he came, looked at both outlets, and said he needed to replace the one in the kitchen. As he worked, Athena decided to see who the invader was and snuck out from the bedroom. Athena and Minerva take every opportunity to let eveyone know how cute they are. Technican, police officer, letter carrier, ax murderer, burglar, seller, serial killer - makes no difference to them. The technican finished, went to his van and returned with an invoice. By now, Athena was rolling on the floor with anticipation of meeting a new admirer. He glanced at her and said, "There's one cat who's never missed a meal!" My initial thought was to strangle him with his toolbelt, but then I'd have to deal with the corpus, and I was already late for work.

At work, I called my home number hoping for salvation. Alas, no such luck. Same problem as before. (Stage directions - insert various expletives!) Again, I call BS, who run a test and say, "Yep, there's a problem!" Gosh! Golly! Gee! That's what I've been saying for three weeks. Later, in the day, I got a call from another technician, who said he would be investigating the problem. Then in mid-afternoon, I tried my number, and it worked! Once home, I called the technician's cell phone, and he told me he had replaced the wire to the house.

Again, I half-way watched "Survivor" this evening. It struck me that one of the keys to the watchability of the show is the ability to feel some affinity with the participants. And it also struck me that by the nature of the show, the participants will become more and more mercinary each week, which decreases their likability. I hated to see Greg go since I thought he was slightly nutty and funny.

Richard needs to wear a shirt. Actually, Richard should stay fully clothed at all times. The mere thought of Richard nude sends me for my anti-nausea pills. TV GUIDE referenced the "Seinfeld" episode about "good naked" and "bad naked." Richard naked is definitely "bad naked."

PAX!