Beware, Robo Callers - Paybacks Are Hell!

I should start out by saying that marketing robo calls drive me nuts. Nobody has the right to tie up my phone line with a recorded sales pitch for something I don’t want to buy. A few weeks ago, we got one of those maddening calls, this time for furnace duct cleaning. My husband waited ‘til the recording stopped and left a message that we were on the Do Not Call list and to not call us again. Unfortunately, yesterday we got another call from the same company, Quality Control of Royal Oak, Michigan. This time, my husband left our number, and today Quality Control called back to schedule an appointment.

My husband asked the woman who called for the name and location of the company and the owner’s name. He then told her that we’re on the Do Not Call list and that he’d left a message to that effect after their last robo call. Then he asked her why she’s working for someone who’s breaking the law with his repeated phone calls. She got angry and said, “I need a job, Asshole!” and hung up. While sympathetic to her plight, we’re not willing to put up with Quality Control owner Ron Chandler’s harassment.

First, I found the FCC website for reporting illegal calls:

http://www.fcc.gov/cgb/donotcall/

You can fill out an electronic form here:

http://esupport.fcc.gov/complaints.htm

You can file an email complaint at this address: fccinfo@fcc.gov

Or you can do it by phone or fax at these numbers:

1-888-CALL-FCC (1-888-225-5322) voice
or
1-866-418-0232 fax


Interestingly, I also Googled Quality Control to find customer reviews at this site:

http://www.merchantcircle.com/business/Quality.Control.248-495-9400/review/list

Needless to say, most of them were awful.

So, if you’re being bombarded with robo calls, do something about it! Go to the website above and file a complaint. The only way to stop these jerks is to get them fined. When it’s no longer profitable to harass people, they’ll stop. I just filed a complaint with the FCC. Enough, already!

Beware, Robo Callers - Paybacks Are Hell!

I Once Worked for Anna From "V"

Have you seen the new sci fi TV drama “V”, about an alien invasion? Although that’s not my usual TV fare, I got hooked on it the first night. Well, there was something about Anna, the leader of the Vs, which stands for “Visitors”, that seemed so familiar. Then it hit me – I once worked for her clone.

Like Anna, this woman came across as friendly, sincere and upbeat. Everyone thought she was great . . . until they got to know her. She was ruthless. Make a mistake, and you were crucified. Turn your back, and her talons came out, ready to rip you apart. In the first few days of working for her, I watched in horror as she brutally tore into one of my analysts for making an error. And it was someone with whom she’d been overly friendly only a few weeks earlier.

Another of her endearing traits was that lies slid off her tongue like honey. She once smiled and told me how hard she’d fought for the raise that I’d just gotten, when I knew for a fact that she’d fought against it. If I hadn’t known the truth, I’d never have suspected, because she lied so effortlessly. It’s as if she had no conscience.

She also expected everyone to do “face time” like she did, staying hours after other areas left for the day. In fact, a subordinate who’d been working lots of overtime (unpaid, of course) asked if she could leave at 5:00 one day, because it was her only child’s first birthday, and there was to be a small party. Our little “Anna” looked the employee in the eye and told her there was work to do, adding “Your daughter will have another birthday next year.”

So I always suspected she wasn’t human. She’d never married and had no kids, pets or even a house plant. Nothing alive was given space in her house. She was kind of secretive about her past, and now maybe I know why. I’ll bet she’s an alien reptile, like Anna. I’ll bet she had kids once, ‘til she became enraged and ate them.

I Once Worked for Anna From "V"

Let's Bring Manufacturing Back to the U.S.

Recently, I checked out a shop, @Home Furniture, in downtown Rochester, MI, to look at doll beds for my niece. I ended up spending about an hour talking to the store owners about their inventory of furniture, accessories, toys and other items, all made in the U.S. They told me about their workshop behind the store, where they make much of the furniture they carry. The doll furniture is made by them and a laid off auto worker and is absolutely beautiful.

The conversation turned to their frustration over the lack of jobs and loss of industry in the U.S. and what they’re doing to fight back. When they opened their shop, they visited other stores on Main Street, and their first comment was always “Show me what you have that’s made in the U.S.” In most cases, there was little or no domestic inventory. So they explained that they would be referring their customers, who value products made in the U.S., to the stores in town that carry non-imported items. And they absolutely refuse to buy the imported stuff themselves. As a result, several stores have increased their inventories of domestic products.

They also talked about how most large companies have moved their production to China or India. For example, much of the furniture on the market now is made in China. And before upholstered pieces can be shipped here, they’re sprayed with insecticides to kill any bugs that might be in the upholstery. So I wonder if 20 years from now, we’ll be seeing an increase in cancers, potentially from chemicals on imported sofas and chairs.

Anyway, if you’re in the market for high-quality furniture, hand-made hardwood toys, like trains and doll furniture, or decorative accessories for your home, you owe it to yourself to check this place out. @Home Furniture is located at 434 S. Main Street in Rochester, MI, and everything they carry is made here. The phone number is 248-608-8483.

Although I’m aware that most items we buy come from China, I’m definitely going to start paying more attention to things made here. And I, too, will say: “Show me what you have that’s made in the U.S.” If more people did this, maybe we could eventually bring some manufacturing back home.

Let's Bring Manufacturing Back to the U.S.

No Lesson Learned, But No Harm Done

My last post was about how we’re having windows replaced. And the expected fumes caused me to plan on leaving town with my birds and dog for a few days, while my husband stayed here to work. But because I have a bad case of bronchitis and didn’t want to bother taking the rolling zoo on a 3-1/2 hour drive, I wanted the window installation to be postponed ‘til next week.

I was sure my husband would argue that everything had to proceed as planned, mostly because he hates asking anyone to accommodate his wife. It’s as if he thinks it’s unmanly to cave in to a woman’s needs. (Okay, maybe I’m being a little harsh here.) Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised at how he handled the situation, even though he ended up not asking the installers to reschedule.

He seemed sympathetic and said he’d talk to the window company about our options. I was touched by his concern. But after he spoke with them, he told me that it’s a two-day job and that he’d asked them to do the windows farthest away from the bird cages first. That way, I could stay home an extra day and rest up for the trip tomorrow. He’s always been a creative problem solver.

So he didn’t get to learn the intended lesson on being human this time. And, in fact, there are no fumes from the stain on the windows already installed, and the required caulk will be only on the outside. So I don’t actually have to get the birds out of the house at all. That was another pleasant surprise, especially since I don’t feel that much better than yesterday and would prefer to skip that drive, along with packing and unpacking the car. Plus, I didn’t want to have to miss my pottery and jewelry classes.

He got off easy on this one. But there’ll be another “teaching” opportunity before long. He still needs to learn to put my needs at least even with his.

No Lesson Learned, But No Harm Done

A Lesson in Being Human

I am about to give my husband a lesson in being human. At the risk of sounding like a bitch, I must tell you that he doesn’t think or behave like anyone I would marry today. Don’t get me wrong – I love him, and he loves me. But he was raised by a she-devil who was best known in her final years for being hateful and vindictive. And I won’t even go into her behavior while still raising her five children, all of whom warned me about her. Unfortunately, they all built walls around their emotions in response to Mommy Dearest.

Tomorrow I’m supposed to go away for a few days with my parrots, parakeet and dog, while several new windows are installed in our house. They’re newly-stained, and the fumes could either make the animals ill or, in the case of the birds, even kill them. Ordinarily, I’d take a bunch of paperwork and drive to northern Michigan for an R & R and visits to my two brothers and their families. No problem.

Unfortunately, this time, I am sick. Really sick. I picked up what started out Saturday as the nastiest cold I’ve had in years and has now, according to the doctor, become bronchitis. My chest hurts so badly from coughing that it feels like it’s going to explode. I’m feverish, although the fever isn’t high. My throat is killing me, and it’s difficult to swallow. And I have absolutely no energy. But mainly, when I’m feeling my worst throughout the night and into the early morning, like now, when the coughing woke me up, my heart sometimes races, and it seems difficult to breathe. I rarely get this sick, and it’s more than a little disconcerting.

Do I want to go someplace where a 24-hour drugstore, if it exists, is probably at least an hour away? Where I don’t know of a good doctor? And where I feel like if I become sicker, I’ll die alone, and my body won’t be found for days? No, of course not – the dog needs to be let out, and the birds need to be fed. But when I tell my husband that I’d like him to reschedule tomorrow’s installation, he’s going to squeal like a stuck pig.

To him, I’m strong and independent and have no needs that I myself can’t meet. So he has a history of not even considering what’s best for me, always confident that I’ll get through whatever obstacle course he sets up. And the last thing he ever wants to do is have to ask another man to accommodate my needs. He’ll protest that they have a work schedule and can’t change it. He’ll tell me I’ll be fine and to stop being such a worrier. He’d rather do anything than ask the window company to come back next week, while I recover from this scourge (admittedly probably self-inflicted, due to my lack of sleep).

In these situations, I’ve begun using a close friend’s husband as my guide. This man is the kindest, most considerate and most generous guy I know. So when I get pissed off about my husband’s sometimes selfish ways, I ask myself, “What would Allan do?” And in this case, he wouldn’t even think about continuing with the installation, if it required sending his sick wife away. It’s just not in his DNA.

It’ll be interesting to see just how much my beloved protests and how guilty he tries to make me feel. This time, though, I’m not buying it. I’ll let you know how this goes down.

A Lesson in Being Human

Melancholy Thoughts on Good Friday

On Good Friday, I stayed with my aunt (my dad’s oldest sister), who has Alzheimer’s, while my cousin went to church. My cousin, Shirley, has lived with and taken care of her mother for over eight years now and cherishes every second of their time together, even though her beloved mother no longer recognizes her or anyone else.

As I waited for Shirley to get home from church, I thought about the rest of my dad’s family. His four brothers and four sisters were all kind and decent people who enjoyed each other’s company. They were funny as hell and liked a good party, so I have lots of warm memories of holidays and reunions. But now only one brother and three sisters are left, and two of them have serious health issues.

The one to whom I am closest is my only remaining uncle (and his wife and kids), and I don’t know how I’ll handle it when he dies. That’s because I always wished that he had been my father. He is so many things that my dad was not. I love this man dearly and hope he has many more healthy years.

Thinking about my dad’s family makes me sad. It also makes me realize that I haven’t seen my aunt and uncle for a few months. So, given how quickly time slips past me, I’m going to visit them this week. Now I feel better!

Melancholy Thoughts on Good Friday

I Love (and Hate) Our Security System

I am an extreme night owl, one who has to force herself to go to bed at 4:00 or 5:00 a.m., because I have so much more energy at night than during the day. (Must have been a bat in a previous life!) Last night, I was getting stuff done and didn’t go to bed ‘til 5:20. I was hoping nobody would call this morning until at least 11:00, even though our dog, Maddie, probably wouldn’t have let me sleep that long.

Well, just before 10:00, the house alarm went off. I can’t tell you what that does to me, especially when I’m alone. (My husband will be home this afternoon.) Mind you, having my husband home isn’t much help, since he just tells me “It’s nothing” when the alarm goes off and falls back asleep. My hero. He actually tells me that if I’m convinced someone’s in the house, I should go and check it out myself. And I do.

Thankfully, it was light outside, which makes false alarm episodes, of which there aren’t many, more bearable somehow. Maybe I figure that facing down an intruder without makeup in daylight is enough to make him retreat! Anyway, probably because I was startled out of a sound sleep, I didn’t feel very brave.

I ran to the alarm panel on the bedroom wall to see where the breach had been. Of course, I had to run back to the night stand to get my glasses. The panel lights indicated the problem spot was the front staircase. So I told Wonder Dog to wake up and come with me, since I had to leave the imagined safety of our bedroom to check the house. (This is a big house, and I set up a few crazy things in the bedroom area to protect myself on the few occasions when my husband’s away.) Anyway, that lazy dog had to be ordered off our bed. Some watch dog.

The alarm company called and asked if everything was okay and stayed on the phone while I checked the house. Once outside the bedroom, I could see that nothing seemed disturbed, and the front door was locked. I checked the other doors and all the rooms on the first floor and then dragged a reluctant Maddie down to the basement with me. If anybody was down there, she’d have followed the scent right to him.

So far, so good . . . until, that is, I said something to the alarm company person and found that the phone line was dead. After a few seconds of near panic, I realized that it’s probably the alarm system that’s been screwing with the phone lines the past few months. Damn – yet another repair person to bother me at an inconvenient time.

But now I had a new reason to panic. The alarm company would surely have called the police when the phone went dead. I used my cell phone to call the alarm folks, who offered to call off the sheriff (we don’t have our own police department). All I could think about was deputies seeing the house in its current state. (The dishes were done, but the kitchen was a cluttered mess, including bird food the parrots had flung onto the floor. And that, combined with my naked face, would’ve been humiliating. ) Now I was really traumatized! Fortunately, the alarm company reached the cops before they sent someone out.

Thankfully, it was, indeed, a false alarm. But now I’ve changed the agenda for today. I’m tidying up this place. I mean, you never know, right? I’ll be really tired, having gotten only three hours of sleep Thursday night and less than five last night. But at least I know my heart’s okay – I didn’t have “the big one” this morning!

I Love (and Hate) Our Security System