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Thursday, April 17, 2003

If you make things easy for me, I'll gladly overpay for your services. If you make it hard to deal with you, I might consider taking my business elsewhere. If you're both expensive and difficult, you're probably my Auto Insurance Company. And you'll be hearing from me tomorrow.

Since I bought my new car in January, I've had to make three phone calls to the insurance company, and one to the finance company to give them information that I thought either the dealer or the insurer had provided. I've written three checks and received six or seven bills (I've lost count), including two bills in the last two days. They appear to be identical, but I'm not so into fine print that I'm going to read them.

So tomorrow I call Mary and ask her (a) how much I've paid, and (2) how much I still owe. I can figure (a) out on my own, but I want her number to be the same as mine. And (2) had better be a comprehensive figure (in the comprehensive, not insurance, sense of the word). I'll write one more check, if necessary, and then not another one until July, when everything is up for renewal.

As everyone knows, I hate making phone calls. I put them off as long as possible, and then make them only when I've exhausted all other possibilities. If I could do this by email or fax, I would. At least Mary will be able to hear the exasperation in my voice when I whine and moan at her. I'm sure that'll get me what I need.


Looking west: house on the right, garage beyond the fence. Most of this is what I call the "garden."

The Boss left yesterday for "several weeks" on the road, but he didn't tell me where he was headed first. I didn't hear from him all day, but I didn't think anything about it until his son phoned at five o'clock. "Do you think maybe he's really dead this time?" he asked.

With great patience and no irony whatsoever, I explained to him that when the Boss goes on the road, he often forgets to check in, especially the first day or two. I wasn't worried, but I'd try to track him down before Tim asked me again to help him forge a new will before his mother could collect on the life insurance policy. "We might have to act fast," he'd told me. "I know a notary."

Almost as soon as I left a message on the Boss's cell phone voice mail, he called me back. He's fine. He'll keep in touch. I said, "You really need to call me at least once a day," and he promised he would, for whatever that's worth.

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Mom and I went to see the local community theater production of "Nunsense" tonight. It closes Sunday (on Easter!), and not a moment too soon. I'm sure the show could have been improved with better comic timing and better singing voices, but to be honest the jokes aren't really that funny and the songs aren't very melodic in the first place. So let's just say they did the best they could with the material.

Besides, part of the joke is that it's supposed to have the air of an amateur show put on by the Little Sisters of Hoboken, and in that they succeeded. It's very much like an amateur show.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Mailbox Blues
"I must be known far and wide as a soft touch with lots of dough. (Yes on the former, no on the latter.)"

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