What is my password, again?

I really messed up an account tonight

     It was simple enough. I wanted to check my United miles.  So I took out my mileage card and entered the numbers, as directed.
     The next step was to enter a pin or password.  So I entered what I thought was the pin or password.
     Nada.
     So I tried again.  This time the account I entered changed to a different number!  But the password and pin did not work.
     So I tried again.
     And again.
     My last effort resulted in a message that I had to call customer service to straighten out the account.
     Then I tried Jackie's.  Entered her number.  Entered her password.  And the number I entered changed to a different number!
     It also happened to be the same number I had had written in my little notebook.
     Then I remembered:  United changed account numbers.  The number I had originally been given was changed to a different number.  The number on the account was actually my number.
     I had already messaged customer service.  Maybe that is why I have to call them.
     This whole system of passwords, pins and numbers is sooooo confusing.  All I wanted to know is if I have enough miles to fly business class.  (Evidently, I don't, based on Jackie's records.)
     I know the business flight to Switzerland is over $4,200 per person .... one way.... and there is no way I can afford that.
     And my miles don't build up as fast, since I only fly once a year.
    But I am not worried.  Tomorrow night's lottery is well over $100 million and I have the  winning ticket.
     I won't worry about economy anymore.... after I collect my winnings, it will be first class forever.
     Until then, I'll call United and straighten this whole mess out.  I found out if you say, "I'm a senior citizen and these new fangled computers throw me for a loop" I get a whole lot of understanding from the customer service people.
     For some reason, they think I am kidding!

It's that time of year again

We took Julia to the airport tonight

     For those of you who know me, that involves some nervousness, apprehension and tears.
     Not ashamed to admit it, I cry.  I start the night before and periodically through the day I just burst into tears.  When she steps into that security check line, I have a hard time seeing clearly.
     Maybe that's why it took me almost 40 minutes to get back to the car and pick Jackie up from door 1F.
     I don't think it was, but lack of concentration could have been an issue.
     After I left the parking lot, I followed the sign that said:  Terminal reentry.
     I followed the road, and found that I was on the arrival deck.  Jackie was waiting at the departure deck.
     Of course, traffic is congested.  Cars stop, taxis cut, buses merge.  So I inched my way past the arrival zone.  I looked for signs.  One said:   City Exit and terminals.  Another said: Terminal reentry.
I took terminal reentry, and was on the same road as the one I just took.  At some point there was a sign that said I could not enter the terminal departure lanes.  It didn't take a sign to tell me that, as there was a median with shrubs and bushes between my lane and where I wanted to go.
     So I drove through the arrival section....again.  Watched for merging  buses, cars that stop and taxis that cut.  When I hit the sign that said:   City Exit and terminals, I took that one.  I drove.  And drove.  And drove.
     At an intersection, there was a left turn lane and a sign that said:  Terminals .  I was in the far right lane.
     Fortunately, I was in a familiar area.  Unfortunately, I remembered the area from when I took John to pick up a rental car.  In keeping with tradition, I made the same turn around as I did last summer.
     I went back to the correct turn lane, reentered the airport and finally got back to where Jackie was patiently waiting.
     I don't think she thought I abandoned her, but that may have entered her head.
     Meanwhile, Julia is comfortably settled in first class, having a glass of champagne or two and taking a Xanix type drug.  (Emily, I know it is not spelled correctly).  That's when they announced a delay because the toilets were frozen on the plane.
     Seriously!  And you know what happens when you can't use a toilet....you have to!
     Besides champagne, a chair that folds flat into a bed, turn down service for the night, first class allows her to take 70 pound suitcases.....2 of them.  She also checked a third 70 pound bag.  She managed to get her new set of dishes, some clothes, housewares and a kitchen sink on board for the trip to Switzerland.  I don't know how she will manage at Geneva airport.
     In the end, all worked out well.  She took off almost 2 hours late, we made it back home without any problems, and life is settling back into the non Julia routine.
     Excuse me, I have to go get some tissue now.
     Thanks for understanding.

REally, it's just a rumor but....

I sort of knew about the Swingers Club

     But truthfully, I am the last person to really know about these things.
     When we are out to dinner the other night, the subject of a Swingers Club for couples came up.  And no, we were not talking about one for ourselves, only that there was one operating openly in Rochelle.
     You didn't  know there was a club in Rochelle?  They have a website.  (Yes, I call it fact checking, not porn surfing....but it is there.  If you Google Swingers Club and Rochelle, you'll find it.)
     I was sad to see there were no upcoming events listed.
     I thought perhaps there would be a throw a key in the pile and leave with the person whose key you picked night.  With my luck, I would get the girl who looks like me.  But worse luck, a girl might get a guy who looks like me.
     Or pizza with canolli for dessert night.  Something naughty, but tasteful to fit the advertising standards.
     No mention of dues, but there is a spot for donations.  Just think about that.  There are people dieing of starvation and yet, a Swingers Club has a button for donations.  Priorities.
     Of course, no names are listed.  I am glad to know that.  I don't know if I could look a Swinger in the eye and have a decent conversation that didn't get filled with sexual references every time I said something.
     Rumor has it that the website used to include pictures, although I could not find any.  There are also rumors about where it is headquartered, but I don't want to say.  And please, don't tell me.  I really don't want to know.
    Now, you may have learned something.
    Aren't you glad you read me today??

Did Hemingway have these problems?

I think my career as a travel writer has ended

     I am using the term career loosely.  I had three articles printed in the Sunday Tribune travel section.  Now a lot of people never get one, and I got three, so that in itself is a victory.
     I was paid $300 for the first, $150 for the second, and $75 for the third....so you can see my trajectory was negatively skewed.  Word count was cut in half, then half again, so it's reasonable to assume the money was too.
     Before I went to visit Julia, I sent a list of stories I thought would be of interest.  Sent it twice. Never received an answer.
     In my book, that is a "thanks but we are not interested in you anymore and stop bugging us" response.
     Blaach to them!
     Successful writers develop markets and contacts.  They put a lot of effort into finding an outlet for their creative juices.
     I e-mail one guy.
     I still have an idea of putting all my travel stories into a book and seeing if there is a market for that.
     But then I realize, I will be almost 70 by the time I get that done.  When it becomes a best seller, I'll be too old to make the late night talk show circuit where I'd  sit next to Jennifer Aniston or George Clooney, which means I'll never get invited to his Lake Como house to spend a few days chilling with him and his new bride.
     I  still dream of writing that best seller.  The fact I have not finished any of the four books I started doesn't prevent me from starting a fifth.
     Maybe I should look at it like this blog.  A little bit at a time, one day at a time.
     Set a date, set a target, work at it.
      486 miles to go on a bike, 500 on foot.

deja vu ... all over again

I have more ups and downs than an Otis!

     As in weight.  On Jan 2, 2014, my blog said I hit 200 pounds.  I made it down to 192 in September, but now I am back at 200!!  Holy crap!
     I wonder why.  In the last couple of weeks I have eaten at Portillo's, Yen Ching, Country School, Beacon on the Green, Aldo's, Alfano's, a pizza  place in Cherry Valley,  a German-Italian restaurant named Himmels in Chicago, plus every cookie I could get my hands on!
     I am like an unleashed beast, craving food at every step.
     But the holidays are officially over.....July 5 is the 12th night, if I count correctly.  Epiphany.  Well, I am having an epiphany about my weight.  Again.
     All the decorations are down and put away.  Check that, two items remain out upstairs and the downstairs tree is still standing.  No hurry.
     Julia is thinking about packing, but I don't think she owns enough suitcases for all her stuff.  She leaves Wednesday, which means I will be an emotional blob for a few days.
     Once she leaves, I will be welcoming snow storms.  Storms coming after she leaves means a hassle free departure for O'Hare.
     It also gives me blocks of time to watch Netflix movies and shows....and maybe get caught up on Downton Abbey.
     And most importantly, ride my exercise bike.  493 miles to go.

change is good...exchange, no so much

I had two unusual shopping experiences today

     Julia got a present that did not quite match what she needed.  So we took it to a big box electronics store to exchange it for a larger model.
     The man behind the service counter (whom we shall call Frack, for lack of a better name) saw us, and basically ignored us.  The man running the cash register (let's call him Frick, for lack of a better name) saw us,  and told the guy behind the service counter, who said, "It will be a few minutes because I am updating this program."  Frick says, "Should I call a manager?"  Frack says, "No...it will just be a few minutes."
    There are now three of us in line.
    Frick has a customer who is needing a receipt with a rebate.  But he has run out of register paper, halfway through printing the receipt.     Instead of getting a new roll, he goes to the next register and takes that tape. He loads that, but can not reprint the receipt. So he goes to the computer to run if off the website.  Now there are four people in the checkout line, two in the service line because one guy got mad and left.
     Meanwhile, another manager comes to work a register since the line is getting longer and finds out...he has no paper in his machine.  So he takes Frick's paper.  Frick now takes paper from the machine behind the counter.
     Another manager has arrived to help Julia, because Frack can't authorize a return.....which if he had called a manager at the start like Frick suggested, would have gone a long way to getting the process moving.    But this manager  can not log in to the computer.  Ever effort to enter Julia's name comes up with the message, "Unrecognized character."  So they go to another computer.  Same problem.  He tells Julia to come behind the service counter and enter the information.  Same problem.  Different computer.  Same problem.
     The phone is ringing constantly.  "Customer service, you have a call waiting.  Tech, you have a customer waiting,"  keeps blaring over the intercom system.
     The lights are flashing on the phone, it's jangling, the lines are long, Frick is out of pennies for change and has been taking them out of his own pocket, the phone keeps ringing and Frick turns around, hits all the buttons, looks at no one in particular and mutters, "There."
     And there is silence.  For about three seconds, then the phone lines start lighting up again.
     Another employee arrives on the scene.  She says, to no one in particular.  "I am helping a customer looking for a drive.  Someone please answer his questions."  The only people are  Frick running the register, and  the man helping Julia and me, because Frack has run away.
     She picks up the ringing phone, looks for some paper to write notes, finds a used sheet, scribbles out the first note, writes on it and says to me, "I took care of the first one, this guy needs help with a question.  I have another customer waiting." And she leaves.
     Finally Julia manages to access their website on her phone, registers for an account, gets the item returned, and manages to order the replacement......which will arrive Monday.
     Forty five minutes in the store.  Jackie thought we got lost.
     The next stop was 10 minutes away...Irv's Luggage.
     Julia's suitcase broke.  She needed another one.  Irv's is a huge warehouse seller of suitcases and is located in Morton Grove, or someplace.  She had called them last Saturday and they had one in stock she was interested in and were holding it for her.
     We walked into Irv's, were greeted by two sales people, they took her name, went in the back, pulled out the suitcase, and within 5 minutes we were walking out the door with a $300 suitcase that cost her $125.
     Now, who do you think I will do business with again?
     And by the way, neither item was available locally, which means we had to take the buying trip on the road.
     When we checked out at the first place, there was a big red button that said, "That was easy" when you hit it.  I hit it.  The guy waiting on Julia looked at us and said, " Not today.  Today it isn't."

What have I done?

I seem to have created a monster

     About 10 p.m, I had this strange feeling.  I can't explain it.  Something was missing from my day....something was putting me a little off.
     I tried solitaire.  I tried Facebook.  I checked e-mail.  Nothing.
     Then it hit me:  I missed my blog!
     I missed writing about something mundane and trivial.
     So here I am.
     I hope your new years was fun.  We celebrated at Bart and Laurie's and we played some games.  I think it was "Catch Phrases," but it could have  been something else.
     Anyway, I had to get people to say Netherlands.  So I said, Peter Pan lives here.  And my team mates quickly said Neverland.  Which would have been correct.  Then I reread my phrase.  I added Holland, and an astute player shouted Netherlands.
     Now we were all about the same age.
     Do you know what it is like to play games when half of you can't hear, half of you can't read, and only one or two people can do both adequately?
     It's hard.  But it is also a lot of fun.
     I hope your day was as fun as an Oregon Duck's!!