What we need is an Oxymoron.  That would be a big, powerful car that’s environmentally responsible.  And as far as we can tell, a true Oxymoron doesn’t exist.  Maybe the Chevy Tahoe……………….Hybrid.  Its mpg is not as good as one might think, given that it’s a hybrid, but it’s better than similar vehicles.

There are signs that our van is getting old.  Really old.  The paint is peeling off the outside.  The upholstery is peeling off the inside.  In a crate next to the driver’s seat, I carry essential supplies - motor oil, water for the radiator, and my cassette tapes from college.  Ok, so the cassette tapes aren’t essential, but I think it’s significant that the van is the only place where I can listen to them anymore.  When the little electronic key fob thingy disintegrated, I said to my husband, “Ok, I have read the signs, and the signs say it’s time for a new car.”  He thought about it for a minute, and then said, “Nope, it’s time for a new key fob.”

Postscript:  Shortly after I wrote this, the van’s radiator exploded.  Now that’s a sign!

PhoneCoPhobia - the Fear of Calling AT&T

This morning, there was a downed phone line in front of our house. My husband suggested that I call the phone company to report it, and I started to hyperventilate.

The last time I called to report a problem with the phone, I found myself kneeling in the rock bed on the side of the house, unscrewing the cover on a little gray box so that I could check the dial tone on the thingy outside - working as fast as I could, because if I didn’t get that cover off and press 1 if there was a dial tone and 2 if there wasn’t, I was going to have to start all over.  Thank goodness the box was the problem, because I was sure that the next automated instruction would be to strap on some climbing boots and shinny up the utility pole to check out everything up there.  I could only imagine what the little voice would want me to do for a downed line.

Seeing my panic, my husband suggested that I try reporting it over the internet.  That sounded much more manageable, so I went in and fired up the computer.

A few screens into it, I realized that this had some similarities to the automated phone process.  One, I would be significantly older before I finished.  Two, by the time I got through their trouble-shooting diagnostic process, I’d be qualified to hang out my own phone repair shingle.

Before the system would yield the top secret e-mail address for my particular problem, I went through eight screens of questions.  Finally, I got to choose ‘repair’.  Excited, I realized I must be almost there.  And then I got these three options:

• Open or check status of repair ticket online
• Help yourself: technical support -High speed internet
• Help yourself: customer support - Wireless Service

Now, do any of these sound like they apply to what I need to report?  I didn’t think so either.  And for crying out loud and heavens to Pete - why, after all this, are two of my three options to ‘help myself’?

Just when I decided that the phone line could stay down for all I cared, I recalled the priceless wisdom of a not-so-ancient philosopher/technician.

“Call the help line and keep pressing “0″ until somebody talks to you.”

It works.