Waitin' for the Internet to arrive. The installers are supposed to come between 8 this morning and 5 this afternoon. I considered getting up at 7:45 so I'd be super ready to open the door and be dressed in daytime clothes and be less likely to be interrupted from breakfast or coffee, but, really, the odds of installers showing up at 8am sharp this far away from the city are probably imperceptibly close to nil.
Wait! Here they are! 12:40!
Okay, so there's going to be some jigging around for reasons that I don't fully understand, one being that we were going to put the service on a separate account from Grampy's, which actually means a separate line. We'll just have to see how it goes.
The other night at Andy's I sort of half-watched Now You See Me. I didn't get it. There's lots of wow-ee sha-zam in it; I guess that's cool. The lead police officer looks like a real cement-head in the beginning, just like cops are in any number of bad movies. The magicians are almost ethically barren and thus very difficult to root for. You'll probably be rooting for the remaining time counter on your player. You don't know where the real story is in this movie, but it feels like misdirection for misdirection's sake. This movie's greatest virtue is its profitability. There'll be a sequel. I'll be sure to miss it. 5.5
Last night I went for a bit of a bike ride – I went to the Lion's hall to see if I could find out when this weekend's dance would be, and it wasn't on the sign but someone inside told me it would be Saturday at 9. There were people there because it was bingo night. Holy crap, the people! I think next week I'll go. Not to win, just to socialize.
I then went through the village and then back around the Sonora Road side, where a dog cavorting outside with its family decided to give chase. Wow, was it fast. I didn't like the looks of it at all, and it ran out of its yard even as its family was calling after it. I first pedalled faster but I wasn't going to outrun it, even though I was riding on a slight downhill bit, so as it got closer I ended up growling “GET AWAY FROM ME DOG! GIT!” It stopped then. I wasn't going down without a fight and I had to communicate that. I hate running into aggressive dogs in conjunction with inconsiderate owners. I should be able to use a public road without being harassed by somebody's pets.
You know what the fine to the owners is in this municipality if I get mauled by their dog? Twenty bucks. Actors and models, don't travel here without insurance.
Having lunch now.
“That fellow from the telephone company – what was he doing here?”, Grampy asked.
“Installing the Internet.”
“The Internet? I thought I had Internet.”
“No, you haven't had it since Alex lived here.”
“So what's this all for? Why are we getting Internet?”
“So people can use it when they come down here.”
“Hmm. It used to be that I had some say over what goes on on my property.”
Oh boy. He's right, he wasn't consulted, we all just went ahead and made the calls to set this up. It's being billed to Mom, but it's still his house.
And me, I do my laundry at night so he won't tell me that I have to use timed dry & high heat instead of auto dry & low heat. But it's his house. My cousins have their significant others over, over his objections (voiced, now that Nanny isn't around), and I would have too if I'd ever have had one. But it's his house.
“I just go with the flow, I guess.”
There is a Japanese proverb that says, “When you're older, obey your children.” But, well, it's a Japanese proverb. :-)
Okay, there's a huge problem getting another line in. The technician, using inaccurate information, ended up disconnecting the municipal office by accident! So it's going to be at least the first of the week before anything moves, then the wait for another installation appointment on top of that.
* * *
Got another of those lovely calls this afternoon from one of those fine Indian-ish-accented chaps.
Actually, the phone rang twice. On the first go, Grampy ended up saying “No thanks,” hanging up and then saying to me, “It's about my Visa!”
OK, probably just about a balance protection offer or a line of credit or some such crap. Annoying, but nothing to worry about.
The phone rang again, though. And I heard Grampy say, “You want my credit card number?”
I rushed back into the kitchen. “What's going on?” I asked.
Grampy said, “Hold on, I'll put the young fellow on.” To me, “Take the other phone.”
So I get on the line and ask, “What's going on? What do you want?”
“OK, I'm speaking with Mr. Johnston. He is registered with us as our client.”
“Client? Of what?”
“What? No, he's not registered with that.”
“Mr. Johnston, the person whom I am speaking with is, registered. Who are you?”
“I'm his grandson.”
“You're his grandson? He told me about you.”
“He said 'My grandson lives in a different place and doesn't take care of me.'”
“Fuck you!” I hung up. I came back to find Grampy holding the other line. I told him how the 'conversation' went.
“What? That's nonsense! I never did such a thing!”
“It's just a scam to get your financial information so they can charge you for things you don't want or need!”
“Heavens! The things that go on these days!”
I hope there's a special hell for people who defraud older folks. Cheap long distance has made it an international scheme, and there's nobody you can reach out and strangle.
* * *
Shame that the Bryans lost. It seems like every time you're on the cusp of seeing something really special, it doesn't happen. The New England Patriots at Super Bowl XLII. Tom Watson at the 2009 Open. Well, there was Andy Murray at the Olympics (gosh, Raonic lost a tight match there, too) and Wimbledon. I guess you just can't win 'em all.
Off to the library to get my book. I've been going crazy without new books.
Posted from the back seat of my car, parked behind the post office, on the library's wi-fi.