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Disnificartion PDF Print E-mail
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Wednesday, 19 February 2014 09:08

I’m getting rid of my little yellow bug.

I loved that car. Got it back in 2000, back when they were new and different. When we drove up through Georgia, people came out of the service station to gawk at it. I was the coolest uncle ever. On the road it handled well, and after all these years the controls feel as comfortable to me as the hilt of a samurai’s sword. My fingers know where everything is. No fumbling. Second nature.

But over the recent years the relationship soured. There was the fact that even though that car spends 99% of the time in the shade (carport or parking garage) the plastic interior broke down, turning as sticky as Barton Fink’s hotel wallpaper and pulling free in chunks. And the falling headliner. And then this year, a massive number of repairs (including a dealership who put me on the side of the road three times, once with a car fire).

And then there is the green angle. Since 2000, this entire climate change thing has picked up speed. Regardless of me liking this car or not, it only gets 27mpg (in freefall, I think) and I need to do better. So I’ve looked around and think I found what I want. Details to follow.

The interesting thing is my feelings for this thing of metal. I’m actually feeling the same way one does with an ailing pet. I’m not riding the bike in this week – I want to spend as much time as possible in my punch buggy. My feelings range from melancholy to guilt. And this is for a car, a thing of metal.

Funny thing is that I talked to my southern truck-owner friend who replaced his truck with an even bigger truck a few years back (no comment). He’s a blunt fellow, as level and solid as a plank, and even he said that he felt that way when he sold the old one. I’ve only had three cars in my life and each one I part with in sorrow.

Then again, I think the new car will be even better. So I’ll even freak out more when it goes to that great dealer lot in the sky.

>>>I DIDN’T COVER THE ANGLE OF MY HERO IN “EARLY RETYREMENT” MISSING HIS CAR – HE DID MISS HIS CAT. MAYBE I’LL MENTION IT IF I EVER DO A SEQUEL.<<<

(P.S. Talked to my best buddy Jesse last night and mentioned this. He's had a lot more cars then I have had, he's got an MBA and is a logical fellow. And even he gets a little choked by these things). 

Last Updated on Friday, 21 February 2014 22:01
 
Rhine - Day Twelve - Homeward Bound and Travel Thoughts PDF Print E-mail
Written by Administrator   
Monday, 07 October 2013 18:14

I think it was the dread of traveling again via air that kept me awake most the night. After all, I’m dealing with all the crap, along with a wife with a broken wing. In preparation, we repacked everything down and condensed it into our two checkins and one carry bag. One very heavy carry bag. And I’m the bag who carries it.

The driver was on time – thank goodness – but dropped us at the wrong terminal. Yes, we were flying UNITED AIRLINES but it was actually Lufthansa. This mean a good hike to our checkin gate. I found a cart so we could move the bags quicker, had JB tuck into my back (protecting her arm) and off we went. Got the tickets okay, then the guy at the counter pulled a fast one – he moved our flight up from 11am to 7:10am, now boarding. We should be able to make it. Sharp kid.

Security was light, we moved quickly, we walked the treadways, and made the gate just at final boarding. Whew. I mother-henned JB all the way to Frankfurt (giving the guy next to her the evil eye – nudge my wife and I’ll keeel you). But no stress, and the Indians say – we got onto Frankfurt with hours to spare, got through customs, and did a little final shopping for the folks back home.

The final flight was pretty easy (as transatlantic flights with a broken arm can be). We lucked out – on a packed flight, the seat next to JB was empty. She could rest her arm on pillows and sleep. Got home on time, the limo was there, we were in the door as expected.

The cat lingered around the corner of the door frame, watching, clearly thinking, “Who the F…?”

 

So…

Overall, we had a pretty fun trip. The cruise with Avalon was everything we could have imagined it to be. Wonderful food, wonderful friends, great sights, and our own little room every night. Perfect.

Corporations I’m pissed off:

UNITED AIRLINES: Couldn’t find their asses with both hands. Four chances to get us to Zurich and they blew the lot of them. I finally got one of their help desk people to write me, and after two tries and the picture of their mismarked tram sign, they finally agreed to forward it to the group that manages the Newark Concourse. It’s not that I’m simply unhappy – I’m a lifetime enemy now.

TRAVEL INSURED INTL: If this wasn’t a corporation, if it was a person, I would call them out on the street and beat them. What were you thinking, quibbling and ducking like you did while my wife suffered a broken arm 4000 miles from home? I’ve let my travel agent know exactly what you did, everyone on the cruise knows what you did, and I’ll pass it along (by word and blog) until I die.

AVALON CRUISE LINES: Okay, I’m pissed with your lack of contingency planning – nobody knew what to do for an on-board injury. We wasted a lot of time trying to work a trip home through you, wasted time that could have been spent better. On the other hand, Cruise Director Ninki showed up at our room to check on JB. While this might have been corporate damage control, I’m thankful enough for her compassion to give you a break on this one. We’ll probably book with you in future. Just get the laundry up out of the halls, okay?

GO TRAVEL: Lucienne set us up for our vacation, booklets, travel books, advice, everything. She got us on our ship for our anniversary when all other means were closed. She’s a dynamite lady and I’m grateful for her in her following up with the insurance trolls.

So, fellow travelers – some advice:

1)      Use travel agencies. They can really do a lot of that self-service work for you, and can get you ins that the internet can’t.

2)      If flying overseas, always make your transatlantic flight first, then short-hop it to your final destination. Why? If you miss a connection, there are more alternatives for that short hop (even trains). When we missed our Zurich flight, we had to wait 20 hours for the next.

3)      When coming home, always make your transatlantic flight last. American Security is an officious impediment, and you will have trouble making connections and going through customs, security, and so on. Last time, when we came through Charlotte, we went through five levels of customs/security/anal probes, just to get dumped outside the security perimeter and have to come back through.

4)      If anything happens, an injury or sickness, DON’T try to work it through the carrier or insurance. Just get your loved one home. Call the airline, get that seat, get them flying. Corporations have a vested interest in screwing you. I experienced this first hand.

5)      Don’t fly UNITED AIRLINES.

6)      Don’t insure throughTRAVEL INSURED INTL.

And that’s it! JB has had surgery and had a screw installed in her left shoulderblade. She’s in mild pain but healing rapidly. We see the doctor again on Tuesday. Currently, we are thinking of another Amsterdam trip (to catch up on what we missed), and looking towards 2014/15 or so for that.

Thanks for coming on our trip with us. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

<<<START

>>>AND IF YOU REALLY ENJOY MY WRITING, MY BOOKS ARE RIGHT HERE<<<

Last Updated on Saturday, 27 December 2014 09:29
 
Rhine - Day Eleven - Lemonade PDF Print E-mail
Written by Administrator   
Sunday, 06 October 2013 18:59

You gotta be kidding me.

The phone did not ring.

TRAVEL INSURED INTL denied the claim and the special flight out. Why? How could they leave a woman in a foreign country with a broken arm? It turns out their non-English-speaking doctor did not fill out the O2 entry in the documentation he was supposed to provide (he only had a simple satchel with him, with no means of measuring it anyway). And I even had included (with the eight pages of documentation the insurance company wanted) his own form with the FIT TO FLY box checked, AND the hospital’s form, with the same thing clearly noted. So not only did they deny us on a technicality, they were too chicken-shit to call us and tell us. So I’ll be having words with them when I get back.

Jane examines a bike-lane car. Cute!On the other hand (at the end of an unbroken arm) at least we managed to have a fairly nice day. JB didn’t want to hang around the hotel room – she wanted fresh air - so we took a slow walk in a nice neighborhood all along the waterfront. No crowds. No jostling. The scenery was wonderful, the air fresh, and it was fun just to see Amsterdam life going on around us. The afternoon was naps and reading in the room (which has a stellar view of the harbor).

Speaking of bikes, I need to mention a couple of things about their bikes. Of course, everyone rides bikes here – there are more bikes than people in Amsterdam. There are roads and signals just for bikes. Anyway, many of their bikes look gearless – just the chain and the two hubs. No shifting. Since the land is flat, it doesn’t seem to be a problem – they just zip along in their casual commutes. I even saw a woman with six-inch heels riding along.

Secondly, they have a strange way of covering the gear and chain, an enclosed sort of thing that shields the drive chain from the elements (and also protects pants legs from snagging). It seems to work – outside of one or two rust buckets, the bikes we’ve seen (and ridden on) were smooth and quiet, a real joy to ride. I wonder how they service them.

The Dutch do have some amazing variations, including bikes with forward tubs on them (for kids, dogs and cargo). Interestingly, they are generally made of wood. The first time I saw it, I thought it was a sort of tricked-out showy thing, but no, everyone’s got them.

While I saw a couple of road bikes (with flamingo-togged riders), most of the Dutch bikes are work-a-day bikes, beat up and scratched and even rusting. It makes me even more attached to my decade-old Cannondale, which squeaks and squawks and gets me there. Solidarity!

  I’ve also seen a roving biker with spare tires over his handlebars and tubes in his basket, doing repairs. And here I was wondering if the Dutch ever get flats. Guess they do. Interesting job.

A masted boat, a houseboat, a bike and tram rails - Amsterdam!As the afternoon wore on, I went for a quick walk to see the rebuilt windmill that’s about a mile from our place – got a good look at it in the afternoon sun. Just enjoyed my last evening in Amsterdam.

Of course, when I got back, I found out that TRAVEL INSURED INTL.  and told my wife they’d put her in first class, if she went and got herself re-physicalled at the hospital. She told them to make sure they had an appointment and transport for us, then to call back. Apparently she was really pissy with them, the pissy that pain brings. Serves them right. I’m not going to go to the clinic and sit for five hours in plastic chairs just so we can skip it the next day. And why, if you decided you wanted to do this, TRAVEL INSURED INTL, did you wait until 5pm local time to come up with this idea? We’ve been sitting around most of the morning and all the afternoon and could have done it then. Or could it be that the comment I put on your Facebook page goaded you into action?

Anyway, on my windmill march, I bumped into the Gills (just back from their hovercraft adventure) and we agreed to have dinner with them downstairs. It was nice to see them a final time. Also, JB is a bit of a celebrity – everyone seems to know about her fall and were coming over to wish her well. I made sure to mention our service with TRAVEL INSURED INTL.

<<<START

NEXT>>>

>>>TOMORROW WE FLY HOME – BACK TO WORK, AND BACK TO HAWKING BOOKS (ACTUALLY, I NEVER STOPPED)<<<

Last Updated on Monday, 07 October 2013 18:25
 
Rhine - Day Ten - Broke her crown PDF Print E-mail
Written by Administrator   
Saturday, 05 October 2013 19:15

The morning of debarkation. We’ve put the suitcases out in the hall with ribbons to show our transfer to the hotel. I’m walking down the hall, toting my carryon, calling out to an Aussie I knew. And JB, somewhere behind me and following, trips on some sheets left in the halls by the cleaners and faceplants. Crash!

At first I was pretty angry – how embarrassing. Everyone’s standing around cooing and she can’t seem to tell where she hurts. I thought she was just shaken. But no, she can’t move her left arm.

I’ll give them this – Avalon (the tour operator) had us in a taxi and off to the hospital in short order. Compassion for the injured or terror of liability? Who knows. We were dropped at the hospital (very quiet on a Sunday morning, but you could see vomit all over the doorstep from Saturday night). She was seen pretty quick, an X-ray was shot and the news came back – she’d actually sheared the protruding bone on her shoulder. Yes, she’d broken her damn arm.

I know her emotions were pain. Mine were anger, shock, frustration, guilt, you name it. I’m going to say (and get catcalls from the audience) that I was really pissed that there were things I wanted to do that day. Dammit. Okay, so say it. Boooo, Robert!

And here’s the last thing I’ll say bad about Avalon – they didn’t seem to know how to handle this. Back at the hotel, I sat with their representative and tried to get to the UNITED AIRLINES site- we couldn’t pull up my flight info. So he came up with the great idea for me to head out to the airport and personally change the flight at the desk. So off I went, on a wild (and dumb) goose chase.

Let me point out right now that the Above and Beyond award goes to our boatside friends, Joe and Joyce Gill, who sat with JB in the hotel lobby while I was on my airport jaunt. Our rooms weren’t ready and she was drugged, sitting with our luggage, and yet our friends camped out with her (I’m sure that they also had plans for Amsterdam that day). But they stayed and had lunch with us afterwards (when JB’s pills and my adrenalin dropped out and we hit the wall). But thanks, folks, for your compassion and assistance in our dire situation.

But I’m ahead of myself – lunch with the Gills was after my snipe hunt: At the UNITED AIRLINES’  desk I got a firm “NO”; they couldn’t change the ticket because Avalon had booked it. So I caught the bus back – two hours wasted.

Now it was getting into the afternoon. The cruise director, Ninki, called and suggested we work it through the trip insurance people, TRAVEL INSURED INTL (you know what the bold underline signifies). After a lot of confused international dialing I got them. But they wanted medical proof that her arm was broken, so more hours were spent while they located a doctor and sent him to our hotel. And we waited. And waited. Finally he showed up with one of the bellhops, who would serve as a translator (he was a nice old guy, very 1950s-ish, way out of place with Modern Bustling Amsterdam). Then there was pure pandemonium in the room – the Dutch doctor quizzing my wife through the bellhop, and me trying to call TRAVEL INSURED INTL to find out where the paperwork was. And that’s when the guy from the front desk finally showed up to show us how the remote worked. And Ninki called again. Crazy!

Cruise casuality JB and Cruise Director NinkiEventually things got settled. I went down and faxed the stuff to the travel advisers (clocks running, guys – it’s been four hours). JB was feeling better – she could move her arm a bit more, and it didn't hurt too much in the sling. And then Ninki showed up – how nice of her to do so (strange to see her in civilian life). She was very pleasant and caring – and listened when I mentioned they might consider having better contingency planning. So Avalon, we might again book with you, if only because Ninki put in the extra effort.

So after this crazy day, how did we spend our evening in this city of sex, drugs and bicycles? We went to a Subway (not a cool European transportation system, no, but the sandwich shop). Now JB is taking a bath – she’s flexible enough for that. And I’m sitting here reflecting on my day of Dutch hospitals, a whirlwind airport tour, country doctors and two six inch (or 15 centimeter?) sandwiches.

I can’t wait until I get back to work and things settle down.

Just waiting for that phone to ring…

<<<START

NEXT>>>

>>>IF YOU FEEL PITY FOR ME FROM MY MISERABLE DAY, BUY A BOOK. RIGHT HERE<<< 

Last Updated on Thursday, 26 December 2013 17:46
 
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