Zel-kun’s Words

My commute is long.  As such, I tend not to be in a hurry.  Two hours of hurrying would be a lot of stress, so I just roll with it.  I try not to let the traffic get to me, but the same can not be said of some of my commuting bretheren.

There’s usually three traffic jams on the way to work.  One leaving the city, one about halfway to work, and one about five miles or so from work.  I had just left the second jam and was cruising along at 70mph, which is a decent speed, I think.  15 more than the speed limit, but just enough so a passing cop won’t pull you over.  As I’m driving, I hear someone laying on their horn, and I look to my right to see a man in a white truck speed by and give me the middle finger.  He then sped down the road at what must have been 90mph, before stopping at the next jam just over the hill.

I pull up behind him, and I spot him looking back over his shoulder.  I smile, wave, and give him a hearty thumbs-up.

Way to go, sir.  I’m sure your reckless driving and rudeness paid off nicely.

Zel-kun out.

In the mail today, I receive the motherboard I’ve been waiting for since Tuesday.  Two days is pretty good turnaround, especially since I got a call from HP yesterday that the part was re-ordered and might be another couple of days.  But here it is today, I check the order number and it is correct.  Finally, I can get this busted PC off of my desk.

I remove the old motherboard and components and set them aside, leaving an empty case, and put the new motherboard in.  I then seat the processor and fan, and reconnect all the cables.  I take the hard drive and DVD-Rom drives and stop.  There’s only enough ports on the board for one of them.  After comparing the old and the new I see they sent me the wrong board.  Super.

That means I have to call HP Support, which is one of the (if not the most) painful aspects of my job.  Until today…

“(automated) Thank you for calling HP Support! Please say the model you are calling about”

“7700,” I reply.

“I understand that is a small form factor desktop?” it, for the first time ever, guesses correctly.  They usually think its a server or a printer or something.  I affirm that it is and I’m put on hold.

Usually I have time to read War and Peace and write an essay about it during this time.  But after less than a minute, just enough time for me to reach for the book, someone picks up the line.

“This is Tom with HP support.”  Holy crap.  One minute, and here is a perfectly understandable human being.  Unlike most times, the connection isn’t filled with static, and he speaks english.  I’m actually stunned a moment.  I tell him my problem, he instantly understands, and less than five minutes later, I’m off the phone and the correct part is being shipped.

Normally this process (I have been shipped the wrong part a few times in the past) takes at least half an hour or more, the worse being a call that lasted an hour and a half of me arguing with a guy I could barely understand that the part was, in fact, wrong, and that I did not need to troubleshoot the issue, as it was already diagnosed and would be resolved with the correct part.

Wow.  Way to go, HP.  Way to not suck.  Have a beer.

That’s the kind of thing that would make me consider an HP product, if they’re going back to locally sourcing their support staff.  At the very least, it’ll make days when I need to call them go a lot smoother.

Zel-kun out.

I had completely forgotten about this until last night as I lie awake in bed (as I sometimes do), but there was a time I went to Amish lands.  Not only that, but I went there when I was working for Wal-Mart.

I was working in Electronics one day probably one of my last days there before being transferred to a cashier’s position.  By my calculations, this was September of 2003.  I was driving an Oldsmobile Cutlass, and was about to start my third year of college.  I had loads of debt, and a Compaq computer that broke on a daily basis, and I couldn’t fix.

Life was grand.

The store manager asked if I wanted to volunteer for a store remodel, with a high probability of overtime (That’s $10 an hour, oh rapture!).  As broke as I was, I leapt at the chance, especially since they’d pay mileage to and from the location, and put me up in a hotel.  It was a chance to get out from under my father’s roof for a couple days, some semblance of independence.  So they gave me directions and told me to leave that night.

I gassed up the car, packed some clothes, and set off.  It was near South Bend, a few hours drive, and it stormed most of the way.  When I left the expressway, I descended into total darkness.  Unknown to me, the entire region had suffered a massive blackout.  So, as I drove down what I thought was a country road, I nearly collided with another car.

I was going sixty miles an hour, and I look to my right in just enough time to see another car barreling towards me.  We both slam on our brakes and swerve, spinning around and nearly hitting opposite corners of what I can now see is a large intersection.  When I focus into the headlight beam I can see I’m actually in the downtown area of some nameless town, a line of dead traffic lights suspended above me (its important to note that outside of the headlight beams, nothing is visible, its pitch black out).  The other car drives slowly off, seemingly as shocked as I was.  I finally resume my trip, with a lot more caution.

Finally, at almost 10:00pm exactly, I pull up in front of the foreign Wal-Mart, and meet the rest of the crew standing in front of the building, awaiting instructions.  We are divided into several smaller groups, and given whatever tasks.  I honestly don’t remember most of the work, but it wasn’t particularly bad.  Building some shelves, stacking shelves, hooking wheels onto shelves for transport, lots of shelves, really.

It was strange that while I was working, I spot an Amish couple walking by.  They were wearing Amish clothes, the man in his hat and the woman in her bonnet.  It was oddly surreal to see them against the backdrop of bright blue signage proclaiming low prices for electronics.

Lunch is half an hour long, being as there’s no real point for a longer lunch.  There’s nothing around the store that’s open at night, so our lunch is whatever we could pick out at the food section.  My lunch was vanilla pudding and chocolate milk.  In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest lunch choice I’ve made.  I was queasy the rest of the night.

Finally, at 9:00 in the morning, it is time to go to our hotel.  The large group stands there at the front desk, asking for the rooms Wal-Mart has booked.

Guess what?

Wal-Mart never booked the rooms.

So here we are all standing in the lobby while one of us calls up some representative of Wal-Mart to ask them why the hell we don’t have rooms.  I have been awake since 7:00am yesterday and have worked a total of seventeen hours.  And now there’s the possibility I don’t have a place to sleep.  Nice.  Way to go, Wal-Mart.

So after about forty minutes, things get cleared up and we get rooms, anywhere from two to four people a room.  I was lucky enough to only have to bunk with one other person.  And also lucky that he spent most of his time out drinking.  I passed out on the twin bed and woke up with enough time to get back to work.

While walking to the store, I see a few horse and carriages go by, and see them parked in the parking lots like cars, the horses carelessly crapping away as they stood.  Some carriages were in front of Subway, which seemed very strange to me.  The thought of an Amish man eating a Chicken Bacon Ranch sub makes me laugh.

I took a glimpse inside one of the carriages, and saw a plastic cup-holder with a half-full bottle of Pepsi.  The thought of an Amish man raising a bottle of Pepsi to his lips is even funnier.

Not that I have anything against the Amish, its just a funny thought is all.

The thought that I felt I needed a CYA remark against people who would likely never read a page on the internet makes me laugh.

This continued for a week, and finally it was the weekend, and we were to go home for a couple days.  After getting home, I was exhausted.  I felt like I hadn’t stopped working for a week.  I called the store manager and lied, saying my car was giving me troubles, and I didn’t feel comfortable taking it out for another long drive.  I did not return to Amish Country.

On the plus side, between the travel money and the overtime, I made about a month’s pay in a week, so that’s a good thing.

Zel-kun out.

At 1:20pm, about the time I consider going to lunch, one of my bosses announces there will be a meeting at 2:00.  I ask the boss to confirm it, and to give him a chance to tell me not to go, which is sometimes the case being as I’m not an employee, “We’re having a meeting at 2:00?”  To which he confirms.

This is incredibly short notice.  Worse than that, being as meetings can run for an hour or more, it means that I either eat now (and take a half-lunch), or wait until maybe 3:00 or later to take lunch.  Being as I am hungry and don’t want to wait a couple hours, a co-worker and I decide to take lunch in time to be back for the meeting.

We make it back at 1:50, after hastily eating Taco Bell (not a good thing, my stomach is a little upset at that), and prepare for the meeting.  I get my pen, my pad of paper, and make sure my hair (which is becoming long and hard to manage) is neat, being as the VP of IT is calling the meeting, a man who could make sure I never work in IT again if he wanted.

I am stopped at the door by another one of my bosses (I have eight bosses, Bob), and am told, “You can’t come to this meeting.”  I then stand aside to let the rest of my co-workers enter, and see the door close.

Nice.  Not that I mind being excluded from a meeting, they are generally rather pointless and boring affairs, but I cut my lunch short for it, and that’s not cool.  You may ask if I can use that half-hour lunch to leave half an hour early.  I would say that’s not bloody likely.

Zel-kun out.

I was a little late today to work.  Ten minutes to be exact, rode the same elevator up as two of my co-workers, who take the same route that was clogged a mile in.  So I log into my machine, and get promptly yelled at via IM by m’ boss.

Of course, he forgets that I was twenty minutes early four days last week, or that I stayed twenty minutes after on Thursday to finish a project…

Things like that are making me lean towards leaving this place, much as I’d hate to.  Its been a pretty enjoyable year.

Well, enough complaining, that’s not why you come here.

It’s Julie’s Birthday today!  She’s 29 for the first time!  So, congratulations Julie.  I’d say more of the story, but that’d be silly.  See that little button over there marked ‘Perrero?’  Do you?  You see it, I know you do.  Just click it, its okay, I’ll still be here when you come back.

This weekend I finally got out to see the Simpsons movie.  It was funny and flowed smoothly, so I didn’t even realize an hour and twenty minutes have passed.  More movies should be shorter, really.  That’s the reason I don’t like going, because at the hour and a half mark I start staring at my watch.  And if its a three hour or more movie… I start looking for objects of lethality to do myself in.

So yeah, Simpsons, an expertly done movie, like a long episode really.  It was funny and had a decent plot, but I was expecting something more.  I’m not sure what, maybe some better shots, more celebrities being made fun of, something.  It was like a long episode, and while that is somewhat to its credit, that’s also its downfall.  Other than the length, there was really nothing in that movie that warranted a movie being made.

Although the panning shot showing every Springfieldian was pretty cool.

So, yeah, Simpsons is worth seeing, despite the small complaint I have against it.

There I go complaining again, I hate when I do that.

And again, apparently…

Zel-kun out.

I had a pretty good night’s sleep last night, which is why when Zai says, “Its 7:15,” I leap out of bed in a panic.  I like to be heading out the door at 7:15.  The whole morning was a blur, all I remember is downing a Toaster Strudel (If you haven’t had them, they’re like non-suck Pop Tarts) in three bites, and chugging my coffee before racing out the door at 7:28.

I thought I would pay for my quick breakfast with an upset stomach, but I actually feel pretty good.  So, yay.

I finally pulled Star Ocean: Till the End of Time out of retirement.  I bought the game, played it for a couple weeks, then stopped for whatever reason (probably a new contract or a new game, or WoW swallowing me up again).  I remember liking it, but I had so many hours invested, I didn’t want to re-do it.  But I pulled it out yesterday because Tsuganai: Atonement has already turned me away.

Sorry, but you did not playtest your game enough if one level has the enemies doing minimal damage, and the next level has an enemy killing you in a couple hits (and does not give enough exp to warrant the drastic increase in challenge).

I’ll have a more in-depth review of Tsuganai soon.

And in a bit, maybe Star Ocean.  Because I believe in reveiwing old games.

Zel-kun out.

As I have mentioned many times before, I get spam, and lots of it.  Occasionally I get a piece that seems to be randomly generated.  Its as though some program ate a dictionary and then randomly vomited up words onto the page.  The scary thing is, even though its nearly complete gibberish, there is a semblance of sentence structure.

Such as today:

The yoga was final with the tour of legalese pussy(-cat).  Claire smiled. “I yoga noticed,” she said, “I do bitterness he is doing the standoff to me.  You diabolic ain’t no yoga baritone virgin, thats for sure!”
When the yoga earnest instinctively consultant in two, the archetypal ensign empire, stimulating as the ganges of the greeks and such athletics ramp , captive centrally insignia (known in brazil extroversion as byzantium), remained exactitude in nature, childish excavation itself.

I mean, wow.

“You diabolic ain’t no yoga baritone virgin, that’s for sure!” is now my favorite phrase.

Oh, and the Archetypal Ensign Empire is a goal we should ALL stirve for.

Zel-kun out.

I’m not sure, but I think I almost got jumped on the way home from work today.

After a long drive, I sat on the corner of Ashland and 47th, a scant five blocks from home, waiting for the light to turn green.  In the turning lane pulls up a brown sedan.  It catches my eye because a stethoscope is dangling from the rear-view mirror.  As both our windows were open, I have a very clear glimpse of it.  After a moment, I turn back to gaze at the light, and begin to hear shouts that I can only assume are directed towards me.

“What the F is wrong with you, boy? (I’m paraphrasing)”

“You need to recognize and turn that shitty music off, thinking you can stare like that.”  (For the record ‘All is quiet on New Years Day’ was playing.  Not sure if that’s the title, and I can’t remember the artist)

“I ought to kick your ass.”

As I said, both our windows are down and I’m literally a couple feet from the car.  I’m not entirely sure if these words were directed at me, but rolling up my window would have been recognizing him, so I decided to continue ignoring him.

Finally, the light turned green.  I drove through the intersection, and they pulled halfway through and stopped.

I drove down a few blocks and turned into a side street, finding a parking spot.  As I got out, I could swear I saw the same sedan driving slowly down the road I just came from.

Maybe I’m just paranoid.

Zel-kun out.

When I lived in Bolingbrook, my daily commute averaged thrity to fifty minutes.  Nothing major.  But moving to Chicago changed that to an average of and hour and fifteen minutes to an hour and a half.  It took some getting used to, but I managed to work it into my routine.  Besides, it was Chicago, it was expected.

Then, as my luck would have it, they began construction on a few onramps in Schaumburg.  These onramps are on my direction, and they back up traffic for miles and miles.  This new jam has added another half hour to my commute.  Joy.  Incidentely, this now transforms my work day into a twelve-hour day.

I think I’m going to seek out new employment downtown.  I only live twenty minutes from downtown, and I’m bound to find something there.  I’ll miss the job here, but a two hour commute is a bit much.  Time to update my resume and get back out there.  With a little luck, I’ll find a good job as a technician somewhere.

A few years ago, when I got my first IT job as a Help Desk Technician, Jeff (my boss at the time) began teaching me about computers, more than I ever learned on my own.  He asked me a question which I did not have an answer for, “You want to work in IT, great, but what do you want to DO?”

There are so many occupations.  I could write script, manage databases, application design, web design, et cetera.  I think, as I look at my job now, that I’m doing what I like, End User Support.

Despite my occasional complaints, I like working with people, I like taking a problem and fixing it, I like sitting down with someone and solving their issue.  I’ve done it here at Verizon, I’ve done it for many of the other jobs I’ve had, and I’ve always enjoyed it.  And from what I’ve heard, I can make a pretty comfortable living out of it.  At least until I finish my novel and make billions of dollars.

Also, an upside to the commute, I am offered a beautiful view of the city both ways.  Today it was raining, the air finally cooled from the constant 95 degree days we’ve been having these last couple of weeks, and a thick fog covered the city.  The tallest towers barely peeked out of the cloud cover, with the Sears Tower rising above everything.  I wish I carried a camera around with me, sometimes.

Zel-kun out.

I posted before on Benjamin Franklin and how despite what my education would have me believe, he did a whole lot more cool things than fly kites and invent stoves.

And, of course, he discovered electricity!

But in my adult mind, something doesn’t seem right.  Surely he had some sort of knowledge that lightning was something other than light and heat, else why would he come to the conclusion that flying a kite would do anything other than burn it?

So I decided to do some research to see what was up…

Turns out electricity was discovered long, long before Mr. Franklin came around.  There’s evidence that even the Mesopotamians had some knowledge.  And static electricity was also a known concept in science before Franklin came around.

Turns out Franklin was testing out his hypothesis that lightning was electricity.  He, of course, was correct, and essentially proved that lightning was electricity.  He did not discover electricty.  Great man, yes.  Father of electricity, no.

This of course led me to another question: Who first HARNESSED electricity?

Better question is: Why don’t I know this?  Shouldn’t this have been mentioned along with Franklin and Edison?  (and why isn’t Tesla mentioned more often?  Damn I love Tesla)

I mean, discovering it is really great, don’t get me wrong, but someone HARNESSING it is how all of our handy devices work.

Well, two answers to that (its Zel’s educational corner!):

1. Those ancient Mesopotamians had a device that used electroplating (think lemon battery from Mr. Wizard, or look it up) to generate a mild shock.  Its not known what it was used for, but they harnessed a small amount, nonetheless.

2. Alessandro Giuseppe Antonio Anastasio Volta (damn I love that long name), guy who lived around the same time as Franklin, but who made what is accepted as the first battery, and a device to generate static electricity.  And even though I can’t find it, I can only assume that ‘volts’ are attributed to him.  If you know otherwise, let me know.

So ends ‘Zel’s Educational Corner.’

Zel-kun out.