Good News

I'm out of the wi-fi rabbit hole.

I returned the recalcitrant printer and for a few bucks more replaced it with one that works well with my laptop. Proving once again that cheap is cheap.

My first order of printing was to go back to the article that triggered my descent into what for me is internet hell. Yes, I printed via wi-fi a 2005 article from the New York Times that I no longer need.

The satisfaction was perverse, but satisfaction nevertheless.

Speaking of perverse, how's this for perversity: I just finished reading today's New York Times on the web and then went into the kitchen to wash the newsprint from my hands. Yikes!

Stymied

I started blogging two years ago with the idea that technology is Wonderland and I'm Alice. I've tried to understand it and even adopted some of its trappings, but I still feel I'm down the rabbit hole, as it were.

Bear with me, please. In view of all the controversy over NSA eavesdropping, I thought it might be a good idea for the government to out-source the job to those call centers used by virtually all major businesses. You know, the one's who tell you how important your call is and that it may be monitored for quality and training purposes.

Believe it or not, someone listens to those calls and decides whether to respond to them. I found this out by Googling the subject and came across a well-documented article in the New York Times in 2005. Disappointed that someone beat me to the story by nine years, nevertheless I wanted to print it for future reference. But my printer broke down.

I was so frustrated by not being able to print this article I neglected blogging. Why did I care? I'm uncomfortable with words flying through the air with no place to land. They belong on paper. So they can be referenced (and maybe even leaked?).

Anyway, I installed a new printer and now my laptop can't find the Wi-Fi connection. So I'm down the rabbit hole again.

But back to out-sourcing. I've been on the phone any number of times lately with technical services, phone companies, banks and whatever, and they all assure me that my call is important to them before putting me on hold so I can listen to their awful time-filling music.

Once I actually told someone I hoped my call was being recorded because I wanted the company to know how infuriating it was trying to reach a real person who actually could help me.

If you're still with me I want you to know how important your readership is to me. If you need individual attention you can reach me at marvfriedman@verizon.net.

Your email will be monitored for quality and training purposes.

A Slow News Day

It's gotta be a slow news day when Mayor de Blasio eating pizza with knife and fork deserves a whole column from Maureen Dowd in today's New York Times.

As did Ms. Dowd, my wife and I also howled at Jon Stewart's takeout on the mayor's gustatory gaffe (to pizza purists, anyway). He was in Staten Island, after all, fingers-first country. But a whole column, Mo? Maybe it was just “let's give Chris Christie a break day.”

OK, full confession: sometimes we, too, start a slice with knife and fork to spare the roofs of our mouths from being scorched. But then its full-fold-fingers mode right down to the crust, as long as that's not too thick.

Politicians have always tried to win ethnic votes by publicly tasting their favorite foods. It's a lot easier to appeal for votes with sticky fingers than sticky issues. 

Now let's get back to real meaty news: SCANDALS.  

Welcome to My World, Chris

I've been reading about the impact of the Fort Lee traffic mess on Gov. Christie's political future. And this comment really hit home.

In today's New York Times, Michael Barbaro notes that in the middle of this mess, Gov. Christie had to deliver his State of the State address to the Legislature. Not that he could do anything about that. But Mr. Barbaro goes on to quote a professor of political science and law at Montclair University as saying the speech is “too close to the scandal.”

“The reality is,” she says, “is that this governor has to muddle through this one.”

Now that's something I'm familiar with, muddling that is. After all I am “Muddling Marv in the Modern World.” Think the Guv would be interested in my muddling methods?

Perhaps we should meet. No preconditions, no promises made, nothing expected in return.

Call me?

Are We Ready For...(TaDa)

“Gates Gate?” Surely the media will slap that moniker on the ruckus created by publication of former Defense Secretary Robert Gates' memoir, “Duty.”

It is my obligation to tell you that I haven't read it and probably won't. That doesn't mean I can't have an opinion on it, like most of the pundits who relish the dish of dirt Secretary Gates serves up on President Obama and others in government.

Actually, I'm reserving my opinion till smarter people tell me what to think. Like my wife, for instance. After watching the “60 Minutes” interview with Secretary Gates tonight, my wife thought he should not have said disparaging things about a sitting president. I'm sure the fur will be flying in all directions for some time, buddy photos of Obama and Biden notwithstanding.

Between “Gates Gate” and “All A-Rod All the Time,” does anyone remember "Bridgegate?" You know, Governor Chris Christie's traffic/political jam. And why aren't we calling it "Bridget-gate," after poor Bridget Kelly who took the fall for four days of traffic snafus in Fort Lee, NJ. Just saying.

On the other hand, let's give the “gate” tag line the gate. Remember, the tag line started with “Watergate” which was a real name. All subsequent “gates” have become journalistic shorthand for any type of chicanery.

We should be better than that.  

With Apologies to Shakespeare

Hamlet is reading the Star-Ledger this morning, commenting to his bud, Horatio, on the picture of Governor Christie at his news conference:

"Alas, Poor Chris, I knew him well...a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy of his own omnipotence. And now, look at him, how abhorred he is.

“Where be your jibes now, Chris, Your outrages, your flashes of temper that were wont to set the audience on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chap-fallen?”

"Tell me, Lord Mayor of Fortress Lee: Dost thou think Chris will look to this fashion in the polls? And Smelt so? Pah.”

Horatio: “Just so, my Lord”.  

Ode to The Guv

Pity poor Christie

It makes my eyes misty

seeing him squirm

like a humongous worm

caught on a hook

not by a crook

but foisted by pals

including a gal

he put into jobs

where they could toss lobs

at at political foes

who might cause him woes.

What now Chris?

What else is amiss?

Your future plans

In the frying pans?

As Guvs go

So should you.

Now, not later,

alligator.

But knowing Chris

he'll hiss

and bluster,

muster his forces

to mount their horses

to attack and attack.

“There's no going back!”

But you may hit a snag

when your E-ZPass tag

won't pay the toll

to get out of this hole.