But With a Whimper

All week we’ve been living in existential dread of an empty oil tank.  Right before the snowstorm on Sunday and Monday we got an email from our oil company saying they would be delivering a shipment on Tuesday.  Looking at the tank gauge I could see we had less than a quarter tank.  And for the last few weeks the temperature had been well below normal and the forecasts said this week would be skirting with sub-zero temperatures almost every night.  Well, no problem.  I planned to spend all of Monday clearing the top driveway and there wasn’t any snow due again for days so all would be well.

Of course, when I woke up Tuesday morning another inch or two of snow had fallen and since I was headed off to work, I got up early and shoveled it down to the pavement.  Of course, I was grumbling the whole time about the usual crummy weather forecasting in the area but what can you do.  When I got home that afternoon the fuel truck had still not arrived but they often came later.  At about four, a truck showed up.  But instead of backing down the driveway he parked in the street in front of the curb cut and after five or ten minutes he left.

So, Camera Girl called up the oil company and reported this oddity.  After speaking to several flunkies who knew nothing, she spoke to a flunky who claimed to know something.  The knowledgeable flunky said (repeatedly) that the driver noted that there were snow and ice on the driveway and due to fear of the truck sliding and even rolling over he declined to come down the driveway.

Now this was pure nonsense.  Every driver in their fleet had come down this driveway many times when there was more residual snow and ice than what was there that afternoon.  The only thing I could think of was that the driver was a temporary hire unfamiliar with the route and didn’t want to back up the long narrow driveway.  Camera Girl complained to the flunky and assured her that the driveway was clear of ice.  The flunky said that the photos from the driver would be evaluated the next day and things would be resolved.

Seeing that she was dealing with idiots she resolved to be proactive.  She told them to send a truck the next day and the driveway would certainly be passable.  I treated the driveway with 200 pounds of sand and convinced myself that no one could claim the driveway was impassable.  But I hadn’t reckoned with the fecklessness of my oil company.  When no one showed up by 3pm she called them up and was told that since they hadn’t heard from us, they hadn’t sent a truck.  She argued that the day before we told them to send a truck.  They claimed they had sent a text message asking us if we wanted a delivery.  She informed them that we don’t have a cell phone so no text message was possible.  They stuck by their story.  She once more asked them if we would be getting a shipment the next day (Thursday).  They assured her they would.  But by 3pm on Thursday when there was no truck, I knew what she would hear.  The same story.  Once again, they claimed to have left a text message.  It was maddening.

So yesterday I stepped back and thought what kind of operation I was dealing with.  Apparently, they only hired idiots that couldn’t be held accountable for their poor performance.  They thought they were leaving me messages.  Now the tank was down around an eighth of the tank and I was worried that in the cold weather the small outlet line might not provide enough suction pressure for the fuel pump.  I was worried we really wouldn’t have fuel after Friday.  I reckoned if they failed me again, I’d go out and buy ten gallons of diesel oil and pour it in the tank just to keep things going.

But I resolved to call them at 6:30 am and tell them to make a delivery today.  And by golly it worked.  They must have thought I was answering the imaginary text message and they sent a truck that got here at 10 am.  As I imagined the driver was a newbie.  He was a young middle eastern man and he confessed he had a hard time finding me because he put the wrong address in his GPS.  I was so relieved that I just smiled and showed him where the tank inlet line was.  Well, civilization will die not with a bang but with a whimper.  Incompetence is the rule now not the exception.  But tonight, the temperature is supposed to reach ten below zero.  I am comforted that Abdul filled the tank.  Oh well.  Grateful for small favors.

Viva California

Everybody is agog at the LA fires.  It’s hard to believe that that level of incompetence and plain irresponsibility can exist in a metropolis the size of Los Angeles.  But that’s what we have to realize.  There is no back-up plan for this ongoing catastrophe.  The two largest fires are still only 10 to 15% contained and have already burned 13,000 buildings.    That means that there are already property losses in the tens of billions of dollars, and considering the high cost of houses in these areas, possibly much more.

But when the mayor or the governor are asked what is being done to save the properties surrounding the burned-out areas, they make it sound like this is an act of God that they have no responsibility for or power to fight.  In all those videos of large forest fires we see planes filled with water dropping it on the fire.  Well, what’s stopping California from requesting Washington to send aircraft of this kind?  If the answer is that California doesn’t have any large bodies of water nearby then I’d remind them of that big blue thing called the Pacific Ocean somewhere West of LA.  Sure, salt water is bad for the plants and everything else but I’m guessing that 2,000 °C fire is more than slightly worse.

But that is the reality.  Mayor Bass and Governor Newsom are just going to try and hand wave their way through this and somehow try to blame Donald Trump and tell the victims that he has to foot the bill and make it all right.  Well, I feel very badly for the victims of these fires.  But they voted for these people because they agreed with the things the Democrats said they want to do.  What happened is the end result of all those policies.  What happened is the result of electing people who are incompetent.  None of this is a surprise for the normally intelligent people who have been warning California about the direction they have been going for decades.

Well, there are thousands and thousands of angry, scared victims.  And some of those people are Hollywood icons.  And they are about to be dragged through the horror of trying to get a bureaucracy to treat them like suffering human beings.  They are in for a world of pain.  And all the people whose houses are spared this latest fire season aren’t going to forget how close they were to losing everything.  Who knows?  Maybe they’ll recall Bass and Newsom.  That at least would be a start.  Would it solve the problem.  Nope.  To do anything permanent the whole voting population of California would have to recall all of their state representatives and elect Republicans.  And there are too many school teachers and prison guards who owe allegiance to the Democrat party for their lucrative positions.

So, nothing much will happen.  But one of these days, the big one is going to hit Los Angeles.  Something like a 7.5 on the Richter Scale.  And the Angelenos are going to discover what having fake police, fire and emergency departments mean when there are thousands of people dead and injured.  And something tells me that will be the one that wakes up even the most woke of the woke.  When your family is buried under tons of debris and Assistant Fire Chief Kristine Larson tells you that they are out of luck because her lesbian POC firefighters can’t move heavy stones, well, that’s probably going to be the point when violence becomes the solution.  But then again maybe I’m wrong.  It’s been said many times that you can fix stupid.  Viva California.

We Don’t Send Servicemen to Your House Anymore

Today was an amazing experience.  I get my land line and internet service from my cable tv provider.  Yes, yes, I know.  I should have cut the cable years ago.  But I’m lazy and I also like to watch Turner Classic Movies so I never bothered to figure out a streaming stratagem that would save me some real money.  But anyway, I’m still using these clowns.

So, I get home today at about 2pm and I open my laptop and all my open webpages are MIA.  I restart the Wi-Fi and … nada, zippo.  So, I travel down into the bowels of the earth to check out my modem.  And the worst had happened.  It looked totally dead.  Not three lights or two or even one.  No lights.  I performed the sympathetic magic.  I turned off the power and counted to thirty and flicked it back on.  Once again, zippo.  It was truly and utterly dead.

So, I called up the cable company on my emergency phone.  I’ll have to say these guys have absolutely mastered the science of aggravating non-human communication.  The synthetic female voice they’ve selected is Karen incarnate.  And everything she does and says enrages me.  If she asks me a question, it sounds like she’s finished but just as I try to answer, she throws in an unnecessary addendum and talks over my answer.  She’s relatively deaf and even for an AI she’s really quite stupid.  Finally, she exasperated me so badly that I shouted something at her.  At which point she thanked me for being a loyal customer and hung up on me.  I think that’s the first time I’ve been terminated by a machine.  I think I know now how Dave Bowman felt when HAL 9000 terminated his call after refusing to let him back in the space ship.

Eventually I managed to reach a semi-human.  This was slightly less aggravating.  After about fifteen minutes I convinced this customer service professional that the modem had died indeed.  So, I asked if a serviceman could be sent today to replace it.  She started laughing.  “We don’t send servicemen to your house anymore.  We’ll have it delivered and you’ll install it sir.”  It turns out they would ship it the next day and it would arrive in about two more days, depending on the vicissitudes of UPS or FedEx or whoever they send it by.

I objected and said I didn’t want to be without phone or internet for three days.  She countered that I could pick it up at one of their conveniently located storefronts.  I grumbled “Okay, where is it?”  It turns out it was forty-five miles away.  So, I choked back my rage and said, “Fine.”  And she wished me a happy and bountiful day and asked if I agreed that she had solved my problem to my full satisfaction and then reminded me that Big Brother loves me.

So, I schlepped out the door with the defunct modem sitting next to me in the passenger seat and commuted into the wilds of southern New England with the afternoon sun in my eyes and utter contempt for my cable provider in my heart.  By the time I got there I was calmer and as it turned out the folks at the store were much more helpful and friendly than the telephone drones both carbon and silicon based.  And a mere hour after that I was home and I had the internet mostly running.  But my land line is still not working so I’ll have to call them up still again.

It occurs to me that after living my whole life with instant communication as a living breathing reality the service I receive from my communication company has deteriorated by several orders of magnitude.  Back when AT&T was the whole shooting match, I never lost service and if my equipment wasn’t working properly, they sent a competent repairman out who would fix the problem promptly.  They would never send me to the ends of the earth after first torturing me with an artificial human playing twenty questions with me.

This can’t be the way future is supposed to work.  I have to assume that our civilization has been infiltrated by an evil race of space mutants that have a fiendish plan to slowly drive us insane via cable providers.  Well, it’s worked.  I’ve gone around the bend.  I love Big Brother.