James Rising

Adventures in Speeeling

I have always been sensitive to spelling/grammar errors around me, much more so now that part of my living is made from the word “editor” appended to my name. Lofty title that, when Mr. Spellchecker does most of the work. The check cashes in my name just fine, thanks.

I see these lapses in the “King’s English” every day but often don’t have the chance to snap a shot. But these two were in the same place and held still for recording.

About this:

This was in the “Business Center” of the Best Western (used to be a Holiday Inn) on Tigue Street in Dunmore, Pa. Such is my slave-like devotion to my chosen craft I logged on to quickly check on the progress of the NNS race in Michigan.

I am going to guess that the “Technition” in question had nothing to with the sign. I also have to presume that whoever did, had to ignore any squiggly lines under the word. Or, more likely, just didn’t care. Hey-the computer worked, the connection was fast so wadda ya moaning about?

Well..you see I am a big believer in taking care of the small stuff and the big stuff handles itself. I have to say that the Best Western seems to be a pretty well run joint. But…our party had not one (we don’t learn fast) but TWO really, really bad meals in the connected restaurant/lounge.

And there was where the plot thickened, for I got the following on the bottom of our tab:

I am not saying that because this joint misspelled two pretty easy words that were key in the communication they were attempting that they do a lousy job. But the food was truly horrible. We shared a “Pizza” that was so near to inedible that we could have been better off eating the box it came in before they burned it beyond recognition (the pizza, not the box.)

I got the final story as I waited to pay my tab at the bar. The bartender/waitress/server was more than friendly, if not a little on the comfortable shoe side. Hey, I’m a lesbian myself. I noticed that all the liquor bottles with pour spouts were covered by a sheet of plastic wrap and out of my idle curiosity inquired about it.

“Keeps the flies off ’em,” was the deep voiced reply.

OK! Um…yee haw!

The Rant D’Jour is about airline travel and travails.

It must suck to be working for Jet Blue. I am sure the numbers of people who have called it Jet Blows to the faces…more

It must suck to be working for Jet Blue. I am sure the numbers of people who have called it Jet Blows to the faces of employees of the beleaguered airline are countless.

You have of course heard about the latest problems with Jet Blue Airways. They left a plane load of people trying to get to Aruba stranded in the plane on the runway at JFK airport for 11 hours. After a few hours the snack peanuts ran out and by the end of the ordeal the toilets were overflowing and the plane resembled something out of Dante’s inferno. And that was only one of dozens of similar meltdowns across the country.

The airlines president and CEO, a man named David Neeleman has gone on record trying to do the right thing. He apologized and has offered a bill of rights for passengers. I don’t think it’s going to work and I’ll tell you why. The bill of rights, which takes up several pages seems at first to be a pretty good deal. If you are delayed you get some rewards depending on how long you are inconvenienced. A couple hour delay you get a $25 voucher good for future Jet Blue travel, get stuck for 6 hours and you get a round trip refund and so on.

The problem is in the language. The bill of rights talks about the delays being due to a Controllable Irregularity. Smells like a loophole to me. And another point. If the airline has a bunch of these problems again I predict if they pay off everybody, they will go belly up.

The last point I would like to make. This long “Bill of rights” for passengers assumes by its very existence that there will in fact be more problems like they just went thru. Instead of solving the problems they are making sure they cover their asses in the event it all blows up again. That’s just the sort of self defeating attitude that got them where they are in the first place, isn’t it?

That's a wrap

Sunday Wrap:

Monday 6/13/11:

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Tuesday 6/14/11:

Rant D’Jour

Blog Post

Wednesday 6/15/11:

Rant D’Jour

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Thursday 6/16/11:

Rant D’Jour

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Friday 6/17/11:

Rant D’Jour

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Saturday 6/18/11:

Rant D’Jour

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The Rant D’Jour is about space travel and my wish.

It’s not fair. I have wanted to be a rocket pilot since I was old enough to drink Tang and…more

It’s not fair. I have wanted to be a rocket pilot since I was old enough to drink Tang and now the only thing between me and my ride on a spaceship is the size of my bank account.

When I was growing up one of those memories that seems indelible is standing in the classroom listening to the scratchy distorted PA speaker on the wall playing the radio account of the brave flight into space by American Astronaut John Glenn.

Well now, very soon, in fact within two years from now, rich guys and gals will be going where no man has gone before. Well, OK a few men and women have gone there but hardly enough to ruin the phrase. A bunch of different companies, one of them owned by billionaire nutcase Richard Branson, are going into the business of space tours.
Space tours!

In my wildest dreams of Buck Rogers and Star Trek I never ever thought that all you would need to take a ride on a spaceship would be a fat checkbook. But it seems to be the truth.
For an estimated six figure price tag ordinary humans like you and me will be blasting off from a spaceport in the United Arab Nation. Or maybe in Mexico. Or they might build one somewhere here in the good Ole USA.

A spaceport?

Hang on George Jetson. So let’s get this into perspective. You can take the same trip that John Glenn took in the old Friendship Seven if you can pony up $100,000 smackers. I don’t know if you saw the movie “The Right Stuff” or not but it was the story of the original astronauts and the sacrifices they made. Those guys had to go through a bunch of crap to ride on the tip of that Atlas 6 rocket. And now if I sell everything I own and rob a bank or two I could have a half hour ride too.

Where do I sign up? Oh and by the way could you spare a few thousand? I’ll pay you back right after splashdown.

Aggregate Saturday

We FINALLY got a new to us car for the long-suffering wife. It involved a trip to Towanda, a very unpleasant thing to do as you will read in Wednesdays WEEKENDER column. We paid too much. The salesperson made promises that she now won’t answer email or pick up the phone to acknowledge. But the car is nice, looks great and runs well.
Our long nightmare is over.
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The pool is sparkling clean, all chemistry is spot on and the grounds of the Rising ranch are manicured and polished to a high gloss. We were expecting to have a shindig here for visiting son 1.0 and daughter. Alas circumstances will prevent party time here and the movable feats will descend on the unsuspecting good will of a hotel (with a pool) in Lackawanna county. Yeh haw!
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I have a full day off from the on-line job. It is rare in racing season. I sort of had my choice of today or Sunday, Father’s day. I picked today because son 1.0 has to return to Nashville later on tonight. Only missing element is son 2.0 who is A: recovering from Bonnaroo and B: has other obligations after a two week vacation. Maybe later this summer I will hook up with him.
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The LSW looked at son 2.0 photos of Bonnaroo and asked “Why would you want to go that?” I think it looked like fun except that it doesn’t look like you spend the night in an air conditioned three star hotel room. Room service looked a bit sketchy as well.
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It’s funny how family gets scattered now. In the olden days the family unit was never split up. Of course in the old days the idea was to have as many offspring as possible to lighten the load, help with the work of the family. Son 1.0 barley mowed the lawn when forced at gunpoint. Then a while back he owned a lawn-care company.
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I had a near death (not my own) experience the other day. I am still far too shaken to write about it. This is an experience too horrifying to relate yet and I am still processing it. I am rarely serious about such things. In this case I am serious as a heart-attack, which I nearly had in this episode. Maybe next week.
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Google Analytics shows a ridiculous amount of growth yesterday. More than a ten-fold increase overnight. Guess you liked what I wrote yesterday. I hope you all hand around and invite the family.
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The LSW runs today like a military action. We storm the beach at the Flea Market at the Meadows which is a large event here in Dallas then we sprint to be first in line at the Osterhaut library book sale. I have written about both. These are major yearly milestones in the LSW’s life. I suggested this week in a fit of marital discord that we could:

A: skip them this year.
B: she could go on her own.

The end result, which those of you who are married and wish to remain so should be transparent. But to spell it out:

A: she is not skipping them
B: Guess where I am going?

Thanks for reading. Oh, by the way – I got the space-bar fixed. Thanks for your suggestions.

The Rant D’Jour has to do with sleeping and what happens when you don’t get enough.

I see a lot of news stories about people having trouble sleeping. I also see a bunch of ads for new sleeping pills and even some ads for places that claim to be…more

I see a lot of news stories about people having trouble sleeping. I also see a bunch of ads for new sleeping pills and even some ads for places that claim to be sleep disorder centers. It seems like more and more folks are wrestling with their pillows at night and not getting a bit of shut eye. I can sympathize with this.

My sleep cycle for some time has been three. By that I mean I sleep one out of three nights. Oh I get an hour or two on the off days. But a full nights rest? About two nights out of seven. I have just learned to deal with it. Rather than toss and turn I get up and write this sort of drivel or I read.

I have tried a number of ways to get myself clutched in the arms of Morpheus, perchance to dream, from warm milk to a handful of over the counter sleep aids. The pills made me sleep, sort of. But I felt worse in the morning than if I hadn’t slept. I tried that melatonin stuff? Made me break out in a full body rash. So I just put up with being somewhat in a fog and to tell the truth it’s probably not that different than what I am like at any other time. Always been a little foggy if you ask those that know me.

But the scary news is that some of the new drugs that people desperate for sleep are trying are having some wacky side effects. Sleepwalking, sleep eating and scariest of all, sleep driving. A woman in a full body cast who had to be helped to the bathroom was discovered while under the influence of these drugs standing at the stove frying up bacon and eggs. What’s worse is she had turned on the oven to 500 degrees, without removing the pots and pans stored in it. Can you say four alarm fire?

But the sleep driving is what really intrigues me. It probably explains a lot of the irrational behavior on the roads don’t you think? The person who tried to pass me on the left the other day making his own third lane on the berm? Had to have been asleep.

The space bar on this laptop is pissing me off. It’s not responding consistently and makes typing, which for me is always problematical at best, into a painful chore.

It takes so little to make me happy, you would think something like this would not be a big deal.

But it really is.

If I don’t hit it had and in the center thestuffItypeisallruntogether.

Looks like an e.e.Cummings poem.

Google research says that I can pry the key off with a blunt knife and clean under it. I am chicken. If I break the key we are screwed. On the other hand rightnowthisisapainintheass.

It’s too much effort for me at this time.

To be continued, no doubt…

The Rant D’Jour is about listening technology in cars.

I now know the surest sign of all that I am over the hill. I cannot, for…more

I now know the surest sign of all that I am over the hill.

I cannot, for the life of me imagine needing 14 speakers in my car.

When I was a boy and I walked to school ten miles in the snow , uphill both ways in tornados my dad’s car had AM only and one crackling fuzzy distorted speaker. Then, even before FM we wired my buddy’s car with two speakers to use the new stereo 8 track player. More recently I had a custom sound system installed in a car. I say recent. Maybe ten or fifteen years ago? It had two speakers in the doors and a bass speaker in the trunk.

Now that was sophisticated.

Now I think the family truckster has maybe four speakers…maybe six. I dunno. It’s loud enough to make my long suffering wife tell me to turn it down. And it sounds pretty good.

But I just saw where you can order a Audio A8 (maybe you can. I could if I won the lottery) with a 14 speaker system. Its only $6300 extra but hey, if your gonna go first class…I believe my first five cars added together didn’t cost $6300…but anyway.

And if 14 speakers isn’t enough for you. how about 19? The Lexus will come so equipped. And you can bet it won’t be free.

And if it’s raw power you want? You can get a 600 watt system in the Lincoln MKX crossover. I have been to concerts with less than 600 watts. So maybe it’s true what we used to say to old farts. If it’s too loud, you’re too old. All I have to say to that is. Huh? What? Huh?

Radio DaZe:

Not so much about radio but more on what puts together a radio guy…

Being of sound mind and body I thought I would talk a little bit about sound.

I live breath and sometimes eat sound. It goes way beyond music, although that is a big part of it. I love listening. The saddest thing to me would be to lose the ability to hear. Even sounds that are not so pleasing to the ear are interesting to me, a bona fide card carrying sound addict.

How do you know if you are a sound addict? First of all you spend a lot of your waking hours asking “do you hear that?” If you are a sound addict your focus is always on that noise the heating system is making…or the rattle in the engine while you drive. I almost always drive with radio on so I can’t hear what sounds to me like the car self destructing under my dupa.

Second of all you will have a particular way to describe sounds. Sounds are not just loud or soft, high pitched or low…they are mosquito fart high. Or elephant belch low. Don’t tell a soul but I see sound in color. Bass notes range from inside of your skull black to royal purple. High frequency sounds can be yellow or even white. More purple please!

Lately I have found that I can not concentrate too well if there are interesting sounds within my ears. To try and carry on a conversation when there is good, loud music playing is for me almost impossible. And the harder I try to focus on the person speaking to me the further away my attention wanders. I must seem rude and I apologize in advance. It’s just my addiction in action.

Sounds like no others. The soft but resonant pop of a cork being pulled from a bottle of wine. The birds waking up outside of your window tuning up for the day. The ocean. A foghorn and the ocean. A loved one’s sigh during a hug.
These are the noises that to me become sweet melody.

The Rant D’Jour is all about the all-American road trip.

Everyone needs to recharge their batteries now and then. Last week was my time. While it may not sound like a vacation to some, the long-suffering wife…more

Everyone needs to recharge their batteries now and then. Last week was my time. While it may not sound like a vacation to some, the long suffering wife and I journeyed over 1,200 miles in less than a week, mostly poking around the New England states. A few days of it spent visiting family were fun but the real fun was a lack of agenda later on in the week on the seashore.

Something there is about being next to a large body of salty water that makes me, anyway, dissolve into relaxation mode better than any other place on earth. It became a routine of eat, drive around, eat, drink, sleep, lather, rinse, repeat. I could get used to it.

But you need pain to know pleasure, or so I am told, so we headed back from bliss. You see a lot of drivers in 1,200 miles. Amazingly enough in nearly 1,100 of those miles I didn’t run across any highway rage, stupidity, or just plain rude driving. We drove alongside visitors from up Canada way, eh? Notorious bad drivers, Canadians. The rumor is that in Québec the driver exam consists of learning how to fill out the accident report. But we had no problem. In fact until we re-entered the Commonwealth of PA upon our return our journey on the highways was unremarkable.

But, as soon as we crossed the border…well our first clue should have been the rain. Not just rain. This was like driving through Niagara Falls sideways. It was unrelenting. And no one even slowed down. I was cowering on the extreme right hand side of the road trying not to hydroplane, going well under the speed limit while trucks the size of houses hurtled past me, throwing geysers of water up.

Wipers were useless. It was like Stevie Wonder driving Ray Charles. The only time we slowed was for the accident. We knew that’s what it was because there was a man with a large, worn, wooden sign that in hand painted letters said “ACCEDENT” standing by the side of the road. Sure enough a few miles up the road there was an “accedent.” Some poor unfortunate with the right side of their car mangled beyond recognition on the left side of the highway.

The final miles were on the Cross Valley Expressway. People take that “expressway” thing serious. Especially the guy who waited until I tried to pass him before he pulled over in my lane with no turn signal. I just about rolled my car over to avoid him and what was his plan? He went almost ½ mile before once more changing lanes without signaling to immediately exit.

There is no place like Home!