I predict you will want a pet!

I have two orders of business to conduct in the blog you are about to read (or not read). The first involves my encouragement to all to go out and adopt a pet now that the hustle/bustle of the holidays is over. I admit to being totally manipulated by the ASPCA commercials featuring Sarah McLachlan urging us to rescue a cute, furry animal. It makes me realize that it is probably good I’m not a billionaire, because I would blow all my money on dogs and kitties. 

I'm Spook, I'm 2 years old,
I'm neutered, and I'm waiting for you!

While purebread animals are adorable and photogenic, I encourage you to go to one of the local animal shelters and rescue an animal that has been abandoned and needs a home. For a small fee, you can bring home a small friend who will love you unconditionally for as long as they live. I still miss my late friend Joe, who left us way too early in his life. Now I have Torii, who does some serious bonding with me every morning before I go to work, and most days when I return. The purr-fests have gotten to the point where I have adjusted my morning alarm from 5:45 to 5:30 so I don’t have to peel her off my chest in order to get to work on time.
I wouldn’t want to imagine my life without her.
I’m sure there are many area organizations that have pets available. The two I know of are the Tracy Area Animal Rescue (according to Facebook, the contact info is: email arvizu@iw.net, phone 507-828-8029). We met Torii at the Sioux Falls Area Humane Society, back when her name was Carmel and she looked so sad lying in that cage… If you go to http://www.sfhumanesociety.com/ you can see many of their current residents that are up for adoption, with pictures and a short description of many. Are you a fan of cats? They have over 100 on hand right now.
Tell them I sent you!
My second order of business…you know you’ve been waiting for it…is my fearless predictions for the New Year. Remember you heard it here first:
I present to you my Top Ten Predictions for 2012:
10. Trouble will erupt in Hell when Osama bin Laden finds out his new roomie, Gadhafi, wants to watch nothing but reruns of “Dancing with the Stars.”
9. About the second week of June somebody will break down and finally have to say, “I guess it will have to be you,” to Mitt Romney.
8. Kim Kardashian will start putting the shattered remains of her life back together by getting engaged to a hockey player and booking some TV time for the wedding.
7. Anthony Weiner will appear before the Board of Review hoping for reinstatement, but the Board Chairman (his wife) will inform him he will still be sleeping on (and tweeting from) the couch.
6. The Twins will rebound from The Season Of Which We Shall No Longer Speak to win the World Series as Joe Mauer catches 150 games, Francisco Liriano wins 25 and Tsuyoshi Nishioka wins the Gold Glove. In other news…Charlie Sheen will take a vow of chastity and Donald Trump will shave his head.
5. At some point during 2012 I will get to a point when I can picture in my head which actor is Dylan McDermott and which actor is Dermot Mulroney. (I have simple goals in life…next year I will work on sorting out actresses Mary Louise Parker, Mary Stuart Masterson and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio.)
4. My extreme denial and incredulity will persist throughout the year as my ego continues to take a beating over the fact that I can’t beat Paula Dovre in Words With Friends (Facebook Scrabble).
3. Residents of northwestern Lincoln County will gain regional attention with “Occupy Hendricks,” a grass roots attempt at bringing attention to the lack of cell phone coverage in the city. It will fizzle when out-of-town protesters find out they can’t send a tweet unless they drive to the cemetery south of town and stand under the tree while holding a wire coat hanger.
2. The Mayans will be proven right when the world ends on December 21^st, three days after Minnesota lawmakers approve a stadium plan for the Vikings.
And my number one Top Ten Prediction for 2012:
1. When my driver’s license gets renewed on January 26^th, I will be able to extend my streak of 10 consecutive license photos in which I resemble serial killer John Wayne Gacy.
Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas

As I was under the glaring spotlight of a deadline to get our annual Christmas letter done, I thought to myself, "why should I only subject this drivel to the undeserving 50 people on our Christmas card list?" And so, I decided to expand the carnage to the people on the "Off the Mark" mailing list also. I occasionally mention the fact that, according to the counter on the website, about 100 people click on the link and read all or part of it. What I don't mention is the fact that there are 150 people are directly emailed the link to my blog, leaving about 50 who want me to THINK they read it, but really don't want to suffer through it! What you are about to read may be one of the reasons for that defection rate.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our 2011 Christmas letter. (For those of you on our regular Christmas card list, you have the satisfaction of ignoring it TWICE this year!)

Torii

Merry Christmas everyone! For those of you who were thinking, "I just can't wait until the annual holiday letter from Mark, Kathy and Lindsay arrives," your wait is over. For those of you who are thinking, "HOW DO WE MAKE THEM STOP," please just skip to the asterisk at the bottom of the page...

January got off to a rollicking good start with Mark getting sent off to Tracy, California for some work training. He chose to drive instead of fly...his chance to get an up-close look at parts of the country he had never seen. Unfortunately, he ended up in the hospital fighting an infection for the four days preceding his departure. It took more than a little sweet-talking for him to get sprung from his hospital bed in time to make the trip. Heavily medicated, he made the trip and loved every minute of it...as Kathy and Lindsay were back in Minnesota shoveling snow.
The women got a bit of a payback however, as at the end of the month they made a trip to TwinsFest in Blaine with Todd and Nicole Denney. Lindsay even got to hang with mascot TC for a bit...
In March, Lindsay started part time at Miller Legal Strategic Planning Center (where Kathy works) while finishing up her final semester at MnWest in Pipestone. Later this year (September) she was hired full time. She still works there and is living in Tyler while she searches for employment in other areas.
During her spring break in March, she was able to thaw out her feet for a short time with a trip to Sanibel Island in Florida.

Relay for Life 2011

Mark and Kathy spent the second weekend of March in an equally hot spot...the 20th-plus annual Wilmes Family Board Game Weekend. We gave Mark's brother Clay a one-year respite from hosting and the event was held at the Tyler Senior Center.
The biggest news of March, however, had to be the new arrival to our home—a beautiful two-year-old kitty named Torii. We have loved every minute of her time with us...and as far as you can tell with a cat, the feelings are mutual.
Mark spent a lot of time this year at the Lake Benton Opera House. He performed in the "Broadway Meets Lake Benton" show in March and directed a comedy called, "'Til Beth Do Us Part" in April. Not quite having enough of a theater experience, we all made the trip to Chanhassen at the end of April to see "Jesus Christ Superstar."
On May 12th, Lindsay graduated from MnWest with an AAS degree as an Administrative Assistant. Her and Mark were honored to sing at the graduation ceremony, performing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Armed with her new degree, to go with her previous degree in graphics, she hopes to take on a tough job market and score a career.
In June, Kathy and her sister Karen spent the weekend at the Sculpture Walk, as well as visits to Indian Island and Morgan Creek wineries in the Mankato area.
The first weekend of July ended up a memorable one, as horrific straight-line and tornadic winds hit Tyler and took with it many beautiful trees and damaged scores of homes and businesses. We had two trees uprooted in our back yard and two more snapped off, as well as thousands of dollars of damage to our house. Somehow everybody in our little town survived, and with the help of countless hours of work from volunteers from surrounding towns, we are getting back to normal.

Cast of "The Dixie Swim Club"

On July 9th, Kathy's dad, Lowell married Doris Kjellsen in Badger, South Dakota. The whole family moved to South Dakota for the weekend and had a great time.
Much of July for Kathy was spent as co-captain of her Relay for Life team, CUREious George. This year we combined with another Tyler team, CancerMals. It was a fun and rewarding experience. Mark spent much of the summer back at the Opera House directing the musical, "Camelot."
Lindsay's 10-year high school class reunion was held on Aebleskiver Days in Tyler. She also got to see many Jensen family members from Iowa, Colorado and Arizona at a family reunion.
It was trip time again in August, as Kathy and Lindsay spent a few days at the Wilmes Women Weekend...this year in Door County, Wisconsin. Lindsay also spent some time roughing it in the Apostle Islands with her cousins and some friends. In September it was another winery. This time Kathy and Lindsay made a trip with our sister-in-law, Linda, to enjoy a "grape stomp" by Jordan, MN.
On October 1, Lindsay was back at Chanhassen with some high school friends to see "Hairspray."


Merry Christmas from Mark, Lindsay, Kathy and Torii

Kathy and Mark were both at the Opera House in October. Kathy starred with four other women in "The Dixie Swim Club." Mark directed, and after two weeks at the Opera House, the show moved to Pipestone for one weekend.
Lindsay was back in the air again in October, off to see her friend Jessie in Little Rock, AR. Kathy made a weekend trip to the Twin Cities with co-captain Carrie Johnson for a Relay for Life Summit.
November saw Kathy and Mark on a return trip to Chanhassen to see "Hairspray." The first weekend in December both Mark and Kathy performed in the Opera House Christmas Show. Mark directed this show also.
*

Here's wishing you all a very Merry Christmas!

Mark, Kathy and Lindsay...

Happily ever after…

It seems I find myself constantly reminded of how quickly our lives go by. Here we are poised at the start of another holiday season, with sale ads trying to tempt us with discounted prices on artificial Christmas trees. If my first half century is any indication, the next two months will breeze by at a breakneck pace. I do love those holidays. While we are on the subject of time going by, I find it unbelievable that it has been 20 years since the infamous “Blizzard of the Century,” when a large swath of Minnesota was beaten senseless with several feet of snow and high winds.
That also means that come Thursday, November 3rd, Kathy and I will be celebrating 20 years of wedded bliss. For those of you who were there with us, you know we were supposed to be celebrating that milestone on Wednesday, November 2nd.
The quick recap, hitting just the high points, went something like this:
Halloween was on a Thursday in 1991. I was still eight years from ending my career as a rock band bass guitarist/lead singer. I clocked out of my job that afternoon at Tyler Wholesale and it was raining in Tyler. I packed up my band equipment and headed for the American Legion in Windom to play for a dance. My plan was to be back later that night, and use my Friday off to help with our final wedding preparations, slated for Saturday, November 2^nd. It was three days later before law enforcement would let me out of Windom to come home and get married.
I was snowed in with band mates at the Johnson Motel, and Kathy with my family back in Tyler. Our groom’s supper was the first victim, it was cancelled early. As the snow continued to fall we cancelled the dance scheduled for Saturday evening, and it became evident as the hours went on, the wedding wasn’t going to happen either.
I finally made it back to town on Sunday morning, by way of Worthington, and we had wedding rehearsal as our guests were arriving for our postponed vows on Sunday afternoon. Our wedding trip to the Metrodome to watch the Vikings play Tampa Bay was history.
The biggest downside was the fact that the wedding had to go on without some of our family and friends who were still unable to make it to town. The upside, I guess, is we have quite a story to tell of that weekend two decades past. It was even documented on the front page of the Windom paper.
Here we are 20 years later, still blindly, crazy, madly…okay, well we still get along pretty well. We still connect with a palpable unspoken closeness at home after all these years…me from the desk of our home office and her from the bedroom where she is watching “Project Runway.”
I get emotional when I think of all the ways Kathy has made my life better.
For starters, I never have to make a major decision in our life, although sometimes I get to pretend I do. Young people can’t imagine what a stress reliever that can be!
My days aren’t bogged down by financial management. My paycheck gets deposited directly into “our” checking account, and I never see it again. I don’t even have to think about it…as a matter of fact, I’ve been asked NOT to think about it many times.
I’ve been freed of any temperature control responsibilities in my home. I don’t even have to think about where the thermostat IS in our home…and yes, you guessed it…I’ve been asked NOT to think about it many times.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen…it’s the married life for me. I highly recommend it.
Of course it is not just me who has lived a blissful existence. Kathy never has to worry about me botching a handyman project around the home…although I’m pretty sure we have some tools somewhere in the house. No Tim Allen-type issues for her.
I selflessly keep the DVD shelf stocked so she doesn’t need to even leave the house if she needs entertainment.
There is seldom a day goes by that we don’t have access to some sort of pizza.
I almost blush when I think about how she must go on about me when she is out with her friends.
Of course, the fact that we live in such an elevated state of happiness has its drawbacks. Time flies when you are having fun.
Before we know it the date will be November 3^rd, 2031 and we’ll be celebrating our 40^th wedding anniversary, spinning tales about our snowy wedding weekend.
And, of course, if I have my way, we’ll be celebrating with pizza and a movie.
Happy Anniversary Kathy! Here’s to setting sail on our next 20… How lucky are we?

Another year closer to being my dad…

There are those who are said to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Some profess to wear their sunglasses at night. According to the old song from “Annie,” you are never fully dressed without a smile. Me? I guess you could say I’m never fully dressed without wearing part of my lunch on the front of my shirt.

It doesn’t seem to matter how careful I am. I can lean over my plate. I can hold my plate under my chin. I can wear my napkin as a bib. It just doesn’t matter, I always end up with something dripped down the front of my ample upper torso…and seemingly always within the first two or three bites. There are times when it happens BEFORE I take my first bite—I can’t seem to open a cup of yogurt without shooting an array of milky splatter art on my bosom.

My reputation of proudly displaying my leftovers is well-known to friends and relatives. Last year Santa left me Stain Stick in my stocking.

My favorite shirt is a Beatles shirt because when I wear it, it actually looks like John, Paul,George and Ringo have grease spots on THEIR shirts, taking a bit of the heat off me.

At the end of the day, I do my best to track down any residue from the day’s errant vittles and smear a modicum of waxy stain remover on each tasty splotch.

Unfortunately, it seems like more often than not, I apparently miss a spot or two, and when I pluck a shirt from my closet in the morning, a glaring grease spot or two mocks me from the bathroom mirror. Some mornings it is bad enough that I have to grab another shirt. I remove the soiled blouse and slather it with more magic potion before tossing it in the hamper. Most mornings, however, the imperfections are faint enough to pass my fairly flexible standards for acceptability and I’m off to the office.

One morning last week, however, I scored…big time. I slogged through my workday pre-dawn regimen, and after donning my shirt, I did my daily visual shirt scan in the bathroom mirror…and I saw a perfectly spotless façade. I rubbed my bleary eyes, thinking that my usual morning fogginess was playing tricks on me. Not a chance. I had achieved what I had previously assumed was unachievable. My shirt was spotless.

I left the house that morning armed with the confidence that nothing could ruin what obviously was going to be a great day.

I spent my day exuding confidence that could only be realized by a man with a spot-free frock. Breakfast came and went without anything tumbling on to my belly. My post-lunch inspection somehow found me devoid of any peach Yoplait residue staring up at me from my bellyshelf.

I was on a roll.

The steak we had for supper that night, held onto every single drop of my Heinz 57 sauce. I was beginning to think I should have picked up a lottery ticket—it was my lucky day.

Bursting with pride, my day ended as it began…scanning a spot-free t-shirt in the mirror before doffing it to step in the shower.

That’s when my rosy cheeks went ashen. My heart skipped a beat or two. The t-bone in my tummy rolled over once, then twice.

It nearly escaped without notice, but it was unmistakable…the small white corner peeking out above the neck of my shirt. I had spent the day at work wearing my shirt backwards. Pouring salt into the gaping wound of my self-confidence, I spun around and confirmed what I already suspected...the “back” of my shirt was riddled with grease spots.

Nobody said anything to me at the office. Maybe they didn’t notice. Maybe that glaring white tag remained hidden, keeping me from the hoots and catcalls of my co-workers.

Or maybe the punch line of the day (when I was not in the room) was, “on the bright side, there are no spots on his shirt!”

Nothing will surprise me from here on out. I fully expect, someday, to find my shirt tail sticking out the front of my fly, or my pants leg tucked in my sock. Maybe someday I’ll catch my reflection in the mirror at work with my shirt crookedly buttoned. (Kathy will try to tell you this has already happened.)

It was probably only a matter of time before something like this happened. I’ve been known to stand in a room full of people and wonder why they are looking at me…as my cell phone rings in my back pocket. Some of you have probably followed me for 10 or 15 miles with my blinker flashing.

I’ve most likely snored in church.

I’m a pair of Khaki shorts with black socks away from being that old guy I see in Wal-Mart once in awhile.

Golden years, here I come.

What I did on my summer vacation…

I was thinking the other day that I have a lot of things that make me happy in my life. I’m happy that I still like watching the Minnesota Twins, even though they aren’t doing very well this year. I’m happy that fall temperatures are just around the corner. I’m happy that I’m not Muammar Gaddafi right now.
I was so busy this summer that for a short time, I forgot I was happy. But then August arrived.
Ahhh, August. That light at the end of my proverbial summer tunnel. The pot of gold at the end of my humid rainbow. The carrot dangling from the end of my yard work stick.
Each year, August provides me with a short respite from the extracurricular activities to which I regularly subject myself. The summer musical is done and there is a gap of a couple of weeks before tryouts for the fall play. There is little activity in my world of part-time photography. Most of the weeds on my lawn have slipped into a drought-induced dormancy…
This August provided me with a particularly blissful lull. This year’s “Girls’ Weekend” for the women in the Wilmes family spanned five days…August 9-13. Kathy and Lindsay were headed for Door County, Wisconsin for five days, and since I had accrued a couple of days of vacation that were burning a hole in my pocket, I bestowed upon myself a four day weekend of my own. Just me and the cat.
The nice part about a four-day break is that it gives a person a joyfulness that spills over into the days preceding. The anticipation that comes with knowing that the time off is on the horizon is delicious.
When I was a kid, our family would take a week-long vacation every year. Without fail, an annual summer trip found us heading “Up North,” and trips to places like Paul Bunyanland and Deer Park and the Alexandria resorts were some of the fondest memories from my youth.
Somewhere in the ensuing 40 years, I’ve become a lump, and the joy I get from staying home rivals the memories of those wonderful childhood excursions.
The first thing when I got home from work on that Wednesday evening, Torii, my feline co-vacationer, thought we needed to order pizza. I looked at her and said, “you don’t eat pizza.”
“Then you’ll have to eat it yourself,” she meowed.
Forty-eight hours of leisure had begun.
While I certainly enjoy recreation as much as the next guy (we squeezed in a total of nine movies over four days), I get nearly as much pleasure from tending to my to-do list that grew longer over the summer. The relief that comes with knowing that long-overdue tasks can be put behind me brings me as much enjoyment as watching the Jason Bourne trilogy on DVD.
And that, my friends, is what I did on my summer vacation. Torii, who was apparently a bit lonely for the women of the house, seldom left my side. My home office also doubles as the coat closet, entertainment library, extra mattress storage and exercise room. My needy kitty spent the bulk of the four days hanging out next to me on the seat of the exercise bike or curled up in my orange plastic “IN” basket.
Although the break didn’t seem long enough, it nevertheless made heading into the next workweek somehow less daunting. I guess if you count the days of anticipation, the actual vacation, and the residual elevation of mood over the next week, I had about a two week break!
Life is back to what I consider normal now. Tryouts for the fall play were Monday evening, I’m back to taking sports pictures for the county schools and Torii is back to ignoring me.
And somewhere in my 70s, I’ll be hanging out at the Senior Center, reminiscing with some other wrinkled person with cataracts about that August back in 2011 when me and my cat sat around for four days watching movies, scarfing down pizza and swilling Diet Mountain Dew.
I hope I won’t have to listen to him ramble on about his trip to Arizona.

Maybe if Congress would settle their differences by jousting…

Hello all! Long time, no blog.
As many of you probably know, I have been knee-deep in another Opera House production over the past seven weeks. We are in our final week of productions, so I can breathe a bit easier again...or at least I would be able to breathe easier if I didn’t have a summer chest cold for the second consecutive July/August.
For those of you who may have been worried that I wouldn’t have an online entry bragging about the cast of the current production, you can relax. Here it is!
First of all, thanks to George Jorgensen and Clarice Nordmeyer for the complimentary letters to the editor in the local papers about “Camelot.” Also, thanks to everyone else who have went out of his or her way to tell the cast members how much they liked the show. It’s not too late if some of you are still interested in seeing it. We have shows tonight (Friday, Aug. 5) at 7:30, Saturday at 2:00 and 7:30 and Sunday at 2:00.
I would also like to say thanks to a remarkable cast for another splendid summer. I am about to finish up my 20th consecutive summer spent at the Opera House. This year’s cast of “Camelot” made my job about as easy as possible, by working as a team, and more importantly, saving all the drama for on the stage!
The major characters are played by John Voit (King Arthur) of Ghent; Emilirose Rasmusson (Guenevere) of Ivanhoe; Erick Harper (Lancelot) of Tyler; John Williams (King Pellinore) of Brookings; Taylor Holck (playing both Merlyn and Mordrid) of Ruthton; and Paula Nemes (Morgan) of Marshall. These people and about 20 others on and off the stage have created a magical experience for the audiences. Their dedication to the development of their characters has been a joy to behold, and I have the pleasure of watching them perform that magic every evening.
The honest truth is that the audiences have averaged under 100 per evening. The summer musical is counted on by the Opera House board to provide most of our operating revenue for the rest of the year. We are hoping that word-of-mouth will help us build some crowds for the coming weekend. Not only would it help a long-time non-profit organization, but would be a great payoff for a couple of dozen volunteers who have been giving up their evenings over the past two months.
To conclude—thanks to everyone on stage and behind the scenes who have given of themselves while only receiving a compensation of the pride they feel in what they have done.
If you haven’t seen the show yet, time is running thin. Come and escape to the days of the Knights of the Round Table. Forget the woes of a tepid economy and dysfunctional government and television reruns and enjoy the efforts of a group of your neighbors and friends. I can’t imagine how anyone would regret it.
Oh yeah…and it is in 3-D. No weird glasses required!!!
See you at the show!

A little help from our friends (and a couple of kind strangers)

It seems like I’ve been struck with a bad case of sporadic blogging recently. A combination of lack of time and…okay, just a lack of time, has kept me from imparting my useless nattering upon the masses. By masses, of course, I mean the approximately 100 people who trip the “unique visitors” counter when I post a new missive on my blog spot.
The weekend storm in our area prompted me to come out of semi-retirement from blogging. It was an amazing and breathtaking event. (I mean the storm, not my coming out of retirement.)
Last week at this time I was looking forward to a relaxing three-day weekend from work. Once again in the middle of rehearsals for an Opera House show, I allowed many of my obligations to stack up and was planning to reduce that ominous stack considerably, beginning first thing Saturday morning.
Then Friday happened.
I didn’t experience it first hand, but I was on my way home from work when it hit. I could see the big green wall over Tyler. I was traveling north on Highway 91 when the front arrived at my Blazer, along with a strange sensation that it was going to roll me right into the ditch. I pulled over to the side of the road, but winds stronger than I had ever experienced had me hoping over the span of the next 10 minutes that I would remain upright.
When I was finally able to proceed, I became more and more concerned with the state of the place I call home. Cell phone service was spotty at best, and Kathy (in the basement at Miller Legal) and I were somewhat able to communicate with each other in limited fashion. I got a message that I was supposed to swing by our house to make sure it was still there and to check on the kitty. It was over an hour, however, before I could get to town. I was turned around on Highway 14 due to downed power lines. I tried going north on Highway 23, but power lines and a rolled semi truck turned me around again.
I went south to Ruthton and was again stopped on the south end of Tyler. Finally I found a way in from the west and made it to downtown before having to park and walk the last block home. I was stunned at the amount of damage that surrounded me.
While we were thankful that we were all safe (although Torii was one skittish kitty after riding out the storm alone at home), and our house only had damage to a few windows and shingles, we were overwhelmed by the fact we had four trees lying in our yard. We weren’t sure where to start.
And we were among the luckiest residents in town.
Assuming that most of the equipment in town was engaged in bigger emergencies than our own, we waited and mulled our options. We kept ourselves busy by moving all the contents of our freezer to some friends who had power in Marshall (Thanks Chris and Michele). We filled our spare time bailing water out of our sump hole and lugging it to the sink across the basement. You wouldn’t believe how many five-gallon pails it takes to make the water level go down a half inch!
Somewhere around mid-afternoon we had a gift sent straight to us from heaven, in the form of nine gracious volunteers and a few pieces of equipment, large and small. A couple of chain saws, a backhoe and a skid loader descended upon our back yard and accomplished what an hour earlier seemed impossible. The crew: Darrell and Bernice Oerter, Todd and Nicole Denney, Brice Denney, Tyson Nielsen, Derrick Stage, Wally Lipinski and neighbor Don Mulloy pitched in and cleared our yard. I was humbled at the good will that was bestowed upon us. Somehow I got through thanking them all without standing there and blubbering, but not sure how I pulled it off.
The town was filled with Good Samaritan stories like that. Fire departments and electrical crews from all our neighboring towns were there to give up their holiday weekends for us. How do you say thanks to that?
We got our power back Sunday afternoon. After the sound of volunteer chainsaws, there is not much better than the sound of a sump pump sucking water out of your basement. It was sweet.
If there is a slacker in the area it would have to be (no surprise here) Mediacom. Six nights later we still have no cable or internet service. Anyone who knows me would have to wonder how I have survived. I’m usually connected around the clock. With intermittent cell service, my Droid phone occasionally had enough reception to get an infrequent glimpse at the outside world.
Near as I can see Mediacom has put in a couple of grueling six hour days. When Kathy called them to let them know we were still without service, the recording said that they were not aware of any outages in our area. Now THAT is customer service. What makes me even MORE frustrated is that when I actually did see them in town, they had a trailer holding a spool of coaxial cable parked on my back yard, right next to the pile of severed cable that once led to our house. That was two days ago.
I’m sure they will refund our money for being without cable or internet for a week.
Fortunately I’m still buoyed by the elevated mood that was infused by the good will of others, so I haven’t snapped…yet.
All-in-all I came out of the weekend thankful for our health, thankful that the damage wasn’t worse and thankful that (outside of cable and internet providers) we can count on the selfless kindness of our neighbors far and near.