Wheel of Fortune

Hello World, And so here is the second month of the new year charging along at break-neck speed, showing no signs of slowing down, and not to mention, all of us charging right along with it, like it or not, from the most forward-thinking visionaries that the 21st century has to offer, to the most hindward-wishing, foot-dragging Neanderthals resisting progress at all costs regardless. (And don't think that the Druids and I don't know who you are, by golly!) Why, at this rate, the month will be over before we even know it, and pretty soon we'll look up and there will be dandelions and rampant alien mutant poison ivy all over the place (okay, that might only be at our house) and we'll all be standing around shaking our heads and wondering where it all went off the tracks. Of course, things were much simpler when the dinosaurs and I were roaming the great unformed land masses in the primordial ooze, and you didn't have to worry that all the wheels would fall off, since the wheel hadn't even been invented yet - and I don't mind saying, a good thing, too. That was obviously the beginning of the end, although we didn't realize it at the time, and we probably should have just tossed Thak and his infernal wheel invention into the volcano right then when we had the chance, and the heck with it all. Let's face it, modern homo sapiens are the only species on the entire planet that routinely get into car accidents, so that should tell us something right there about how every other living creature in the history of the world decided that wheels were just not worth the trouble, and at this point, I'm inclined to agree with them. Speaking of ideas, alert readers of the Facebook variety may have noticed posts about this phenomenon, which is a book vending machine called "Novel Idea." (Great name, wish I'd thought of it!) These handy contraptions dispense contemporary books and magazines in airports, hospitals, train stations, malls, or other public spaces where people gather while waiting, and have time on their hands but no nearby news stand or bookshop to grab a good read on the go. They're small enough to squeeze in where a conventional store or kiosk would never fit, and as a business proposition, have the advantage of no staff, low cost, and practically a complete lack of overhead. What could be better? Not so fast! It seems that the parent company of Novel Idea (which is either based in Australia, Ireland, or New Zealand, depending on which source you accept) apparently went out of business years ago, after the first roll-out of the machines in 2006. They might have fallen victim to desperate financial conditions at the time, unluckily - or this may just be an idea whose time has not come, or perhaps come and gone, or might never come, for all we know. I still say it's a great idea, but then, don't forget that I would have been the one voting to toss Thak and his wheel into the volcano in those halcyon days of yore, so I might not be the most qualified expert on the subject. Also on the topic of unqualified experts, I was surprised to get some mail recently from our friends at Comcast Business, purporting to be "IMPORTANT INFORMATION REGARDING YOUR INTERNET SERVICE," as it was splashed all over the front of the envelope, like someone wearing a sandwich board announcing that the end of the world was imminent. This might have seemed perplexing, since I am not a customer of Comcast Business, but I needn't have worried. Apparently the person they were looking for, to reveal this IMPORTANT INFORMATION, was somebody named GUIDO TANGO - and frankly, after that, I pretty much lost all interest in the matter. Now, it's true that my first initial is the same letter as the errant addressee, but when it comes to answering to Guido, well, all I can tell you is that's where I draw the line, and I don't mind saying, I am unanimous in that. Admittedly, it would have been even worse if I actually was one of their customers, and they couldn't get my name right, and as it was, they're the ones who are out 23 1/2 cents (or whatever they're charging for bulk mail these days) sending unsolicited mass mailings to random fictitious personages at addresses where no one has ever heard of them. It does say ELECTRONIC SERVICE REQUESTED on the envelope, but I seriously doubt if it would make any difference to them if I let them know that dear old Guido doesn't live here, and in fact never has, apart from not being a customer of theirs in the first place. I might even go so far as to say that good old Guido can join Thak and his infernal wheel in the volcano for all I care, and Comcast Business can like it or lump it. On the other hand, that's still not as bad as our friends at Triple T Roofing, who also recently sent out an unsolicited mass mailing, this time very congenially addressed to the one and only BILL BALLDON OR CURRENT RESIDENT at our address. (I don't know about you, but to me it's starting to feel awfully crowded around here.) Now, I realize that not every single person in the whole wide world is all that familiar with my better half, but I can assure everyone that his last name does not happen to be BALLDON, or even anything close to it - in fact, it doesn't even start with the same letter of the alphabet to begin with. Adding insult to injury, as it were, we actually are customers of theirs, unlike Comcast Business, and my personal feeling is that, inasmuch as we paid them many upon many thousands of dollars to replace our ramshackle roof during the infamous Porch Project [please insert elaborate hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing here] I'm thinking it shouldn't be too much to expect them to recognize our address as one of their former work sites, or get the homeowner's name right at the very least. And while I have no squawk against big bad BILL BALLDON, this time I'm thinking it's the morons at Triple T who need to join Thak and his wheel in the volcano. Of course, it's all too easy to say, what's in a name, indeed. Last week when I was at work, I glanced up from my desk to find a truck from the hard-working minions at American Shredding Services, basically right in front of my face, in the parking lot on the other side of a chain-link fence. It was a pretty sizable truck, so you figure they must be doing a good business in shredded paper, and please feel free to go right ahead and visit their web site at www.americanshredding1.com and see for yourself while you're at it. Apart from having their web site painted on the side for all the world to see, there was also a giant emblem on the truck assuring us that they're AAA certified, whatever that means, presumably on the theory that this certification would make me feel more comfortable having them shred my documents with impunity, and devil take the hindmost. Come to think of it, though, it occurred to me later that the nice folks at American Shredding Services certainly can't use their initials as their logo, obviously, because having their initials plastered across the truck would be a rude awakening for everyone else in the vicinity - and might very well violate any number of decency standards among various localities in their travels, I shouldn't wonder. So, discretion being the better part of valor, it's AAA for them, instead of ... well, you know ... and the highways and byways are safe from any hint of impropriety driving past them with reckless abandon. Of course, if we had only thrown Thak in the volcano right from the start, we wouldn't be having this problem with trucks now, much less vulgar lettering splattered all over them, I dare say. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, or my name isn't - Guido