El Clásico cable service ties artsy Harley Davidson sculpture
04-12-16 13:58 Family Humor
Regular readers may recall that we’ve had a recurring challenge with the Cox Cable television “service”. Somehow young Tiger managed to dub all movies in Portuguese by pressing a rare, but apparently non-random, sequence of buttons on the cable remote. His expertise was matched by the Cox technician who found an equally rare sequence of commands that disabled the external speaker system. Battling history, I decided to attempt to work with the Cox on-line helpless line.
The experience began with the obligatory “Your call is important to us” annoucement, the veracity of which was undermined by the lengthy wait which was punctuated not by music, but by a chirpy series of sales offers. I put the phone into speaker mode and settled down with a good book. Nazy walked by and overheard Cox promoting a pay-per-view ballet performance.
“They’ll figure out a way to broadcast the ballet in Portuguese, Dan.” She said. “How long have you been ‘on hold’?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but my toenails have grown significantly. I want to change the movies back to English.”
“It would quicker and easier to learn Portuguese.”
“I can tell you’re not a fan of Cox.”
“Just try pushing all of the buttons on the remote. Eventually you’ll figure it out.” Nazy suggested. “It’s like a million monkeys pounding on a million keyboards: eventually they’ll produce the complete works of Shakespeare.”
“The internet, my dear, shows that that’s not true.”
Eventually an actual human being helped me navigate the menu structure which had been designed by a direct descendant of Daedalus, the legendary architect of the Labyrinth that trapped the Minotaur.
Able to cycle through 3,293,411 menu selections on the sound bar remote while waiting, I was rewarded on trial 3,293,411 with (extremely) high volume, surround-sound audio from A Fish Called Wanda. Note: I didn’t know you could speak Portuguese with a British Accent.
In addition to wrestling with the TV, Nazy and I were exited to spend the end of the week with Tiger and Arrow, the grand(est)sons. Tom went to Barcelona to see the El Clásico (a soccer match between Real Madrid and Barcelona FC). The result? A tie!
“No I-AX, like the soccer team. We’ll be in the corporate box. They’ll be serving food and, my dear, wine. We can park inside the Amsterdam Arena.”
It was snowing when we pulled into the arena. For some reason, the retractable roof was not retracted. Luckily, however, our box was heated and had a large screen TV to watch the action. If we desired, we could step outside to the balcony to watch ..
… the ‘action’?” I asked. We’ve been underway for more than an hour and nobody has scored. This is not ‘action’. It’s..”
The game, in fact, for the championship of the Eredivisie, the highest echelon of Dutch football, was with PSV Eindhoven. It ended at 0-0. My colleagues were …
“Excited, Dan! That was a great game.”
“Great?” I replied. “I am an American, Wim. When I see a sports match, I want three things. A winner. A loser. And scoring.”
Later, on the drive home, I asked Nazy about her reaction.
“At least you booked a good hotel, Dan.” She replied. “As exciting as the baseball game in Houston,” She thought.
“It’s a great hotel, Nazy.” I replied. “The Kurhaus in Den Haag.”
“Her husband said that he hadn’t noticed that $750,000 had been transferred from their joint account.” I thought, recalling the situation. “It was an easy mistake to make,” I concluded.
Although I usually pick him up, I took Tiger to school on Thursday and Friday. On Thursday, as instructed, I stopped to get him a plain croissant.
“Do you want one with chocolate, Dan?” He asked.
“I think a plain one is better,” I replied — lying to my grandson for the first time.
The next day, we had breakfast at our home. Nazy fixed him maple syrup oatmeal. I think he won on that transaction.
There was only one simultaneous overnight stay. Nazy and I made the mistake of having Tiger sleep between us while Arrow slept in a crib-let next to our bed. It was an unfortunate miscue because whenever Arrow was sleeping, Tiger was awake. (And vice-versa.) Sometimes, obvious to the clock and associated biological rhythm, they both were awake at the same time in the middle of the night. And, when one went back to sleep, the other demurred.
But, we had fun. Arrow is growing and developing second to second. He can (almost) sit up by himself now. He babbled incessantly. He is beginning to reach for things — and has actually found his feet. Tiger, meanwhile, continues to grow his vocabulary. Now he’s into ‘rhyming’:
“Why did you do that, Tiger?” I asked after he dumped his marbles all over the living room rug.
“I don’t know, Joe.” He replied.
“Don’t be bad Brad.” I retorted.
We also had the opportunity to get some great photos. Melika made it back safely and Tom will be home shortly.
The experience began with the obligatory “Your call is important to us” annoucement, the veracity of which was undermined by the lengthy wait which was punctuated not by music, but by a chirpy series of sales offers. I put the phone into speaker mode and settled down with a good book. Nazy walked by and overheard Cox promoting a pay-per-view ballet performance.
“They’ll figure out a way to broadcast the ballet in Portuguese, Dan.” She said. “How long have you been ‘on hold’?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but my toenails have grown significantly. I want to change the movies back to English.”
“It would quicker and easier to learn Portuguese.”
“I can tell you’re not a fan of Cox.”
“Just try pushing all of the buttons on the remote. Eventually you’ll figure it out.” Nazy suggested. “It’s like a million monkeys pounding on a million keyboards: eventually they’ll produce the complete works of Shakespeare.”
“The internet, my dear, shows that that’s not true.”
Eventually an actual human being helped me navigate the menu structure which had been designed by a direct descendant of Daedalus, the legendary architect of the Labyrinth that trapped the Minotaur.
Able to cycle through 3,293,411 menu selections on the sound bar remote while waiting, I was rewarded on trial 3,293,411 with (extremely) high volume, surround-sound audio from A Fish Called Wanda. Note: I didn’t know you could speak Portuguese with a British Accent.
In addition to wrestling with the TV, Nazy and I were exited to spend the end of the week with Tiger and Arrow, the grand(est)sons. Tom went to Barcelona to see the El Clásico (a soccer match between Real Madrid and Barcelona FC). The result? A tie!
Flashback
“.. and HP is letting me invite my ING colleagues to a football match in Amsterdam.” I explained.
“Football? You want me to go to a football game?” Nazy replied.
“I’m inviting you to a wonderful weekend in Amsterdam, my dear. It’s not just a football game, it is “THE FOOTBALL Match”. Ajax Amsterdam ..”
“Ajax? Like the scouring powder?”
“No I-AX, like the soccer team. We’ll be in the corporate box. They’ll be serving food and, my dear, wine. We can park inside the Amsterdam Arena.”
It was snowing when we pulled into the arena. For some reason, the retractable roof was not retracted. Luckily, however, our box was heated and had a large screen TV to watch the action. If we desired, we could step outside to the balcony to watch ..
… the ‘action’?” I asked. We’ve been underway for more than an hour and nobody has scored. This is not ‘action’. It’s..”
The game, in fact, for the championship of the Eredivisie, the highest echelon of Dutch football, was with PSV Eindhoven. It ended at 0-0. My colleagues were …
“Excited, Dan! That was a great game.”
“Great?” I replied. “I am an American, Wim. When I see a sports match, I want three things. A winner. A loser. And scoring.”
Later, on the drive home, I asked Nazy about her reaction.
“At least you booked a good hotel, Dan.” She replied. “As exciting as the baseball game in Houston,” She thought.
“It’s a great hotel, Nazy.” I replied. “The Kurhaus in Den Haag.”
End Flashback
Melika went to Miami to see Art Basel. Meanwhile, Nazy and I were having breakfast with Tiger at Jeannine's in Santa Barbara. An artist (I am not making this up) overheard Nazy speaking Farsi to the grand(est)son. As anyone who knows Nazy can predict, an extended conversation ensured. It turned out that..
“… I was in Zurich a few years ago. I was working with the wife of the head of the Swiss Central Bank.”
“Kashya HIldebrand?” I interjected. “We’ve been to her house in Zurich.”
“That’s right.”
“She has a full-size, pewter plated Harley Davidson motorcycle in her living room.” I noted.
“That sounds like Kashya.”
“Her husband had to resign when they discovered that she made a large foreign currency transaction the day before he announced a policy change.”
“Well..”
“Her husband said that he hadn’t noticed that $750,000 had been transferred from their joint account.” I thought, recalling the situation. “It was an easy mistake to make,” I concluded.
Although I usually pick him up, I took Tiger to school on Thursday and Friday. On Thursday, as instructed, I stopped to get him a plain croissant.
“Do you want one with chocolate, Dan?” He asked.
“I think a plain one is better,” I replied — lying to my grandson for the first time.
The next day, we had breakfast at our home. Nazy fixed him maple syrup oatmeal. I think he won on that transaction.
There was only one simultaneous overnight stay. Nazy and I made the mistake of having Tiger sleep between us while Arrow slept in a crib-let next to our bed. It was an unfortunate miscue because whenever Arrow was sleeping, Tiger was awake. (And vice-versa.) Sometimes, obvious to the clock and associated biological rhythm, they both were awake at the same time in the middle of the night. And, when one went back to sleep, the other demurred.
But, we had fun. Arrow is growing and developing second to second. He can (almost) sit up by himself now. He babbled incessantly. He is beginning to reach for things — and has actually found his feet. Tiger, meanwhile, continues to grow his vocabulary. Now he’s into ‘rhyming’:
“Why did you do that, Tiger?” I asked after he dumped his marbles all over the living room rug.
“I don’t know, Joe.” He replied.
“Don’t be bad Brad.” I retorted.
We also had the opportunity to get some great photos. Melika made it back safely and Tom will be home shortly.
For last week's letter, click here
Tiger and Arrow
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