You're Very Handy I Can Tell

 

So, if I weren't spending every weekend doing Scout things, I might be getting a few things done around the house. But, alas, at least the next two weekends are still gummed up with Scouting events. Haven't had a free weekend since March.

I did manage to get a few supplies today, though, so when the time comes I can (possibly):

1. Fix the basement toilet

2. Repair one of the recliners

3. Replace gutter downspouts.

I might have time tomorrow afternoon to do some of the work if I'm not too worn out from the cub expo. Should be maybe okay, hiding out in the hockey shelter showing kids how to walk on puddle jumpers and punch tin.

But it is getting wearying, all this Scout stuff. I need a new hobby.

The Lesser of Two Weevils

Last Friday, I was at Sam's Club. This is a day different than the day I was there to buy gas.

I was buying food. While at the self-checkout, I was approached by an employee, and we had this conversation, or a recent facsimile:

Employee: Hey, would you like to save 5% on your purchases today?

Me: If it's tied to your Sam's Club credit card, no. We had one and it wanted to charge us a horrendous amount of interest.

Employee: Ah, well the secret is you pay it off right away.

Me: That means standing in your customer service line. Don't want to do that.

Employee: You can always call us.

Me: Don't want to.

Employee: I have an account with [local credit union] and I use my Sam's card as my [some credit union thing that sounds kinda complicated.]

Me: Yeah, don't wanna do that.

Employee: You don't want to save 5% on your purchases?

Me: No, I guess I do not.

This irks for a few reasons:

1. Our credit is stellar. We should not be charged 20%+ interest for ANYTHING we do.

2. Saving 5% on purchases is one thing. Losing time to the time sink that is either standing in that customer service line or making phone calls or remembering to pay that ruinous credit card off is not equal to the savings.

But that was not the end of our conversation.

It's time for me to pay the bill. The employee sees we have a substantial Sam's Club credit on our account.

Employee: You know, if you press *that* button, you can use your credit to pay for your groceries today.

Me: But if I push that button, we have to pony up when it's time to renew our membership.

DO NOT, for the love of mike, tell me how to spend my money, particularly if it's the money I'm saving against the time we have to renew.

Yes, we have a Costco locally. We tried it out. Several times. They were, if it's possible, worse than Sam's.

Shopping these days is becoming like politics: Having to choose the lesser of two or more evils. And the choice is getting harder to make.

Wordle, Morning to Night

I don't want to spoil anyone's Wordle play if they haven't already finished today's puzzle.

I do, however, want to talk about my word choices leading up to the solution summing up my progression on the average day from wake-up until bedtime.

The Youngest, Always Catching Me At My Best

 

Adventures in Gas, in Three Parts.

Adventures in Gas, in Three Parts.

Part the First: Maverik on Ammon and Sunnyside. Almost always problematic and, alas, problematic today. Their system rarely recognizes my credit card and NEVER, NOT ONCE, has it recognized my Maverik discount card. No gas there, though my gas warning light is on.

Part the Second: Not to fear. The locally-owned Speedi-Mart is across the street and they, too, have gas, and a smug sign that reads "Shopping here is voting to support local business." That's well and cute and all but alas, their card reader read my card and declined it.

Part the Third: Fed up with the reptilians at Maverik and the we-don't-serve-your-kinds-here at Speedi-Mart, I make the trek halfway across town to Sam's Club, gas light still glowing, hoping I don't run out. The lines at Sam's are massive, but I manage to squeeze into the line that puts the pump on the wrong side because few want to use it but I don't care. Their pump reads my membership card. Their pump reads my credit card. I fill up with gas. Mission accomplished.

I would spend money with a regional business, but Maverik has a habit of having crappy card readers, so it's rare for me to go there.

I would spend money with a local business, but having my card declined kinda made me sad.

So I spend with the corporate behemoth which has at least figured out that if they spend more money on good card readers at the gas pumps, they'll get their customers' money.

Oh, I forgot intermission. Here you go:

It's the Theme . . . to A Summer Place . . .

Early in March, I texted a link to this video to our daughter, away at school. I used to play it all the time when she was home and she got really sick of hearing Jasper's voice.

I never heard back from her about it, so I forgot I'd even texted it.

Tonight, as we were making dinner, she said when she got the text, she was in her institute of religion class. She opened the link, which played loudly because she forgot she had her volume up. She tried to stop it but it wouldn't stop, so to save face she stood up, left the room and said "Sorry, my Dad is calling me," and went out into the hallway to pretend to have a call from her doofus father.

Her story made my day.

By Osiris and by Apis, Look into My Eye!

So here I sit, feeling  . . . what I wonder?

Fatigue, I guess. Hitting that time of year when Scouting -- even with us trying to exit -- is going to keep us busy every weekend into May. I think after then is when I make my exit.

Fatigue. Between semesters at BYUI, but not in the good between when we have a seven-week break, but only a four- or five-day break. Heading into a new syllabus which I've glanced at a long time ago, but it means having to come up with a NEW PLAN. And I do not handle change well.

Fatigue. Coming out of a long two weeks at work. Still loving the job because, so far, they're letting me continue working from home. Hoping that continues, but they're "evaluating" the work from home agreements. My only hope is that one of the big bosses says he doesn't mind that I'm working from home, so I have that to cling to. I don't know if I could go back to getting up early to catch the bus.

I need a break. And that sounds funny coming from someone who just went to Las Vegas in March for a wedding anniversary. Still need a break. A break at home to start getting stuff done. Well, maybe in May.

I Get the Respect I Deserve. Or Something.

 

YouTube Free Movies: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

 

I posted this as I started watching 2005's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

And while the panto silliness I feared didn't surface, what did surface was a series of set and character pieces, not a movie. I feel bad for folks unfamilir with the book who came into this film hoping to finally see what the fuss is about. Because they likely left saying "Huh. Still don't get it."

All the while the more rabid fans of the film are screaming WAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T GET IT IT'S ALL THERE!

No, it's not. It's a series of set and character pieces, not a coherent story. And, I've got to admit, not all that funny.

Casting, well, they did a great job. I can't see anyone other than Sam Rockwell doing Zaphod Beeblebrox. Martin Freeman was excellent as the fuddled Arthur Dent. But as for the rest, well, could have put anyone in those roles and gotten the same thing out of the film.

It was the one thing a film based on these books should not have been: Boring.

What isn't helping is our crap home internet, which only let me watch in three-minute spurts before pausing to buffer. Until the ultimate pause, shows here, which is where I gave up on the film for good:

I know Adams' schtick is that every time he approached the story it changed. And it's been a long time since I read the books. But they seemed a lot more coherent than this mess of a film.

And the narration. Anytime you have to stick narration into a film, beware. That contributed to the set piece feel, totally messing up the story. They needed to take a long, hard look at their choices before setting anything to celluloid, but they didn't take the time to do it.