Blue Jay flitches iPad contraction button at hatless carriage museum
It’s July 10 and so far, no additional grandchild has an appearance. There are rumors of random contractions but the operative word is random. Melika, aware that it is a bit late to rethink this ‘baby thing’ is ready. Tiger and Monster (the gargantuan cat) have noticed the reappearance of ‘baby stuff’ at the Nirvana household. Monster likes to sleep in the bassinet.
While the city awaits word on the pending birth, Nazy and I have prepared by making friends with a family of Blue Jays. When we resumed eating lunch on the patio outside, a very feisty bird took notice when someone..
“Someone, Dan?” Nazy asked.
… eh, when I dropped a cracker. Appropriately, the patriarch Jay grabbed the cracker and took off. Naturally, Nazy and I responded by dropping other crackers and bread crumbs and blueberries and — well, you get the idea. Two other jays joined the leader. After picking up the offerings, they hid them around the yard. Now they squawk reminders at Nazy when they see her through the kitchen window. As if that wasn’t enough:
“What was that noise?” Nazy called from upstairs.
“Don’t know!” I replied. We both headed to the kitchen where ‘our’ Jay was on the countertop pecking at a cellophane bag full of crackers. As we approached, it flew into the living room and perched on the TV.
“Now what do we do?” Nazy asked. “Now what do we do?” I thought.
“I haven’t a clue,” I replied.
Luckily, the Jay was prepared. With his beak, he nudged the sun slats shading the room, squeezed between them and flew out through the open window.
Now Nazy is trying to teach it to take crackers from her hand. When she’s finished with that, we’ll move on to teaching it to speak English.
“…and Farsi,” Nazy adds.
While Nazy was dealing with birds, I was having problems with my iPad. The BIG BUTTON at the bottom of the device stopped working. I tried to make an appointment at the local store’s Genius Bar, but nothing was available until next week. Nazy took matters into her own hands and called Apple ‘support’.
Skillfully navigating the voice assisted menu forest, she was put on hold. Thoughtfully, however, the automaton that she was ‘speaking’ with, offered her a choice of waiting music: Classical, Jazz, Contemporary. Nazy chose classical and put her phone on speaker.
“That’s not speaker,” I shouted. “that’s screecher. What is going on?”
“It’s Apple’s classical music.”
“It’s neither classical nor music,” I replied. “They chose this ‘music’ so you’ll get disgusted and hang up.” I thought.
“Do you think that’s a violin?” Nazy asked as a particularly loud and discordant squeal emerged from the speaker.
“If it’s a violin,” I replied, “a sandpaper bow is being used on steel strings.”
“Does Apple believe that if it’s played with a violin then it is classical?”
“This ‘music’ was composed by the same person that had the idea of combining fingernails and blackboards.”
Nazy tried coping by lowering the phone’s volume control, but she quickly succumbed to Apple’s will and hung up. She redialed the service line and, after somehow bypassing the machines, actually spoke with a human being. Unfortunately, the conversation ended when that person lost a bit of her humanity by connecting Nazy to ‘someone who will help’. There was a noise on the phone..
“What is this, Dan?” Nazy asked.
“It sounds like someone on the other end dropped the phone,” I replied.
“I think it’s the contemporary ‘music’,” Nazy retorted — hanging up again.
When I tried to describe my problem (“the Big Button doesn’t work&rdquo
on the Apple website, they said: ‘We can’t help”. When I tried to get an appointment, they said: “come back next week”. I decided to just drop in at the State Street Store.
“This iPad is ‘off warranty’,” the clerk declared.
“I know,” I replied. “But it needs to be fixed. The ‘BIG BUTTON’ on the bottom doesn’t work. The only thing I can do is read my current book.”
“We don’t repair these devices, we replace them. And, since you’re off warranty and didn’t buy the support contract, you have to pay full price for a replacement.”
“Do your customers like that approach?” I asked. “That sucks!” I thought.
“I have a free app that will help. It’s a virtual BIG BUTTON.” He replied.
“Thanks,” I said. “This must happen frequently,” I thought.
Later, I explained the situation to Nazy.
“Too bad, Dan. I bet you wanted an excuse to get a new iPad.”
“Don’t be absurd,” I replied. “How did she know?” I thought.
This week, we also took young Tiger to the Carriage Museum. There are about 30 carriages from the 1800s on display. There weren’t any horses, so I don’t think Tiger completely grasped what he was seeing. (There was a model stagecoach with model horses that might have helped if we had seen it before touring the museum.) He was naturally inquisitive..
While the city awaits word on the pending birth, Nazy and I have prepared by making friends with a family of Blue Jays. When we resumed eating lunch on the patio outside, a very feisty bird took notice when someone..
“Someone, Dan?” Nazy asked.
… eh, when I dropped a cracker. Appropriately, the patriarch Jay grabbed the cracker and took off. Naturally, Nazy and I responded by dropping other crackers and bread crumbs and blueberries and — well, you get the idea. Two other jays joined the leader. After picking up the offerings, they hid them around the yard. Now they squawk reminders at Nazy when they see her through the kitchen window. As if that wasn’t enough:
“What was that noise?” Nazy called from upstairs.
“Don’t know!” I replied. We both headed to the kitchen where ‘our’ Jay was on the countertop pecking at a cellophane bag full of crackers. As we approached, it flew into the living room and perched on the TV.
“Now what do we do?” Nazy asked. “Now what do we do?” I thought.
“I haven’t a clue,” I replied.
Luckily, the Jay was prepared. With his beak, he nudged the sun slats shading the room, squeezed between them and flew out through the open window.
Now Nazy is trying to teach it to take crackers from her hand. When she’s finished with that, we’ll move on to teaching it to speak English.
“…and Farsi,” Nazy adds.
While Nazy was dealing with birds, I was having problems with my iPad. The BIG BUTTON at the bottom of the device stopped working. I tried to make an appointment at the local store’s Genius Bar, but nothing was available until next week. Nazy took matters into her own hands and called Apple ‘support’.
Skillfully navigating the voice assisted menu forest, she was put on hold. Thoughtfully, however, the automaton that she was ‘speaking’ with, offered her a choice of waiting music: Classical, Jazz, Contemporary. Nazy chose classical and put her phone on speaker.
“That’s not speaker,” I shouted. “that’s screecher. What is going on?”
“It’s Apple’s classical music.”
“It’s neither classical nor music,” I replied. “They chose this ‘music’ so you’ll get disgusted and hang up.” I thought.
“Do you think that’s a violin?” Nazy asked as a particularly loud and discordant squeal emerged from the speaker.
“If it’s a violin,” I replied, “a sandpaper bow is being used on steel strings.”
“Does Apple believe that if it’s played with a violin then it is classical?”
“This ‘music’ was composed by the same person that had the idea of combining fingernails and blackboards.”
Nazy tried coping by lowering the phone’s volume control, but she quickly succumbed to Apple’s will and hung up. She redialed the service line and, after somehow bypassing the machines, actually spoke with a human being. Unfortunately, the conversation ended when that person lost a bit of her humanity by connecting Nazy to ‘someone who will help’. There was a noise on the phone..
“What is this, Dan?” Nazy asked.
“It sounds like someone on the other end dropped the phone,” I replied.
“I think it’s the contemporary ‘music’,” Nazy retorted — hanging up again.
When I tried to describe my problem (“the Big Button doesn’t work&rdquo
on the Apple website, they said: ‘We can’t help”. When I tried to get an appointment, they said: “come back next week”. I decided to just drop in at the State Street Store.“This iPad is ‘off warranty’,” the clerk declared.
“I know,” I replied. “But it needs to be fixed. The ‘BIG BUTTON’ on the bottom doesn’t work. The only thing I can do is read my current book.”
“We don’t repair these devices, we replace them. And, since you’re off warranty and didn’t buy the support contract, you have to pay full price for a replacement.”
“Do your customers like that approach?” I asked. “That sucks!” I thought.
“I have a free app that will help. It’s a virtual BIG BUTTON.” He replied.
“Thanks,” I said. “This must happen frequently,” I thought.
Later, I explained the situation to Nazy.
“Too bad, Dan. I bet you wanted an excuse to get a new iPad.”
“Don’t be absurd,” I replied. “How did she know?” I thought.
This week, we also took young Tiger to the Carriage Museum. There are about 30 carriages from the 1800s on display. There weren’t any horses, so I don’t think Tiger completely grasped what he was seeing. (There was a model stagecoach with model horses that might have helped if we had seen it before touring the museum.) He was naturally inquisitive..
“There is no tire inflation valve, Dan.” Tiger exclaimed after examining a wooden wheel.
“It’s not a tire, Tiger,” I replied. “So it doesn’t have any inflation valve.”
“Motorcycles have tire inflation valves, Dan.”
“It’s a horse drawn carriage. Horses do not have inflation valves.” I wanted the last word.
“Why not?” Tiger replied, last wordly.
So, here we are at the end of this week’s letter. No baby (yet)… but we do have a limping iPad and a squawking Jay and a bevy of non-inflatable wagon wheels. Nazy has pulled out her paint brushes and watercolors. She’s outside with a couple of handfuls of crackers working on a special project.
And, finally, we have been trying to get Tiger reacquainted with hats.
“He used to like ‘hats’” Nazy, voted Ms. Hat of California, noted.
“I know, but now, he’s 2 years old. He thinks he’s outgrown hats.”
“We have to find the right hat,” Nazy countered as she led us into a hat store.
“I’m sure that Nazy will be out with a new hat,” I thought. “But not so sure about Tiger.”
I was right about Nazy and pleasantly surprised by the grand(est)son.
For last week's letter, click here.
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