It's all been done....

I think I am coming to the end of my blogging rope, so to speak. Thinking back about 2.5 years ago, I can't remember why I started this blog in the first place. It may be because a good friend of mine, Jetboy, started a blog and I couldn't stand for him to get all of the attention and kudos. More likely though is that I considered it an opportunity to develop my writing skills, a talent I always felt I had but never really explored, the occasional poetry contest aside (yes, that's right, poetry).

Looking back, it's been interesting. My initiation into blogging coincided with an unusual period of my life in which I thought I was going to become a millionaire playing online poker. Though I did very well considering my lowly stakes, it was not to be, and reading my earlier blogs shows just how consumed I was with that "sport". I always told myself that I wasn't addicted, that like Nick Nolte in "Down and Out in Beverly Hills" I could get out of my undies, shave off the 10 day beard, drop some visine into my bloodshot eyes and return to a normal life when the time came. And in that sense I was right, though like an addict there is a long period of time, in my mind, that is now simply unaccounted for and might have been spent more constructively, just like my parents said (repeatedly).

I realize I have been going through the motions with this blog for a little too long, and when reading some of my more recent posts made me cringe, I decided to give it up. For now. I know I have said "adieu" in the past, only to return a few weeks later, so that is why I hesitate to say this is the final post. So in classic Hollywood style I will, stifling a sob and wiping a single tear from my eye, turn and say "this is not a good-bye. This is a see you later"...

or an

Until we meet again.

Marto

mishmash

I finally decided to help my schizophrenic computer out today. Poor thing, for the last 6 months it has chosen to emulate the personality of a Commodore 64. Yes, that vaunted, much heralded system which back in its day was only good for one thing: playing the 1988 Summer Olympics game and Elevator Action. Those 2 games would occupy me for hours. Show them to a kid of the new millennium and their reactions will mirror ours the first time we saw dinosaur bones. Heck you might even be attacked. But I digress. Bemoaning the lack of speed and general operating enthusiasm, and having a year plus on my Dell warranty, I decided to call the bastards. Let's see whose laughing about the overpriced support add-on feature now you bastards!

After waiting a few minutes as the ingratiating voice tried to direct me to the website to solve my issues (nice try lady, but kindly take a step back and go fuck yourself!), I was eventually passed to Sanjeep. Now, I am generally in favour of moving call-centres to India. Most educated Indians tend to be polite and smart. This Indian might have been both, however I could never have guessed given the strength of his accent. For close to an hour he tested my hardware, which turned out to be a pointless pursuit. But I can't be sure, as I had no idea what he was saying 89% of the time, and must've responded "yes, I think so" after many periods of incomprehensible rambling. After figuring out that hardware wasn't the issue, he put me on hold and passed me to the software guys.

Twenty minutes later and I am passed to Sanjeev, software expert. Much to my disbelief, Sanjeev informed me that software help was not in my contract and there would be a fee. Though annoyed I said "Sure" expecting a $20-$40 charge. Nope. $249.

As an ex-trader pal of mine used to say: "you've got to be fist-f&*%ing me!"

So after 1.5 hrs on the phone, I am back where I started. Leisure Suit Larry 5 anyone?

No, this is not weird.

Not weird at all.

www.nytimes.com/indexes/2008/08/17/style/t/index.html#videoId=1323270833&pagewanted=0&pageName=tvideos4&