[i got annoyed by the oddly-placed spaces. i've retemplated. old comments remain, for what that's worth.]

if you are interested in my ongoing soap opera regarding cable billing, continue. if you have not read anything about this soap opera, please read the previous entry. if you are not a complete loser, navigate to another page.

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the saga is over, for now.

i called customer service number 1: "we can't do anything about it. you have signed an agreed-upon rate with your landlord, and we can't adjust what they charge you." "yes, but you can adjust what you're charging me. i was told that you are the only ones that can make that adjustment." "unfortunately there is nothing i can do about it." "you can't change your rate?" "no, i can't change what we are charging you." "you see where i'm getting screwed over here, don't you? i was paying one rate, an agreed-upon rate for a term of one year, and now, two months into that agreed-upon rate, it's been changed." "i'm sorry, there's nothing i can do about it." "that's ridiculous."

[now's where it gets funny...by the way, i'm usually very friendly to customer service people...i'm gracious when they help me, i tell them i'm having a wonderful day even though i'm annoyed at my hold times, and i make a point during the conversation of making small talk and letting them know that i understand the unneeded stress of their jobs and that they're working very hard...]

"okay. my internet had been out for a week, and i'd like to go about prorating my bill at this point." "we can't do that. i'll need to give you another number." "am i on the phone with mediacom?" "yes." "and you can't adjust my bill?" "i can adjust your cable tv bill. i can't adjust your cable modem bill." "i only pay one bill, to mediacom, every month." "i understand that, but i cannot take care of that." "okay then, please transfer me to the internet people." "i can't transfer you." "you can't transfer me!?" "no, unfortunately they are in a different building, so i have to give you a different number." "okay, then, please give me the number." "8-7-7" "i can't believe you can't transfer me." "[more numbers]" "may i recommend that you suggest to your supervisor that you have the ability to transfer. i think it's a pretty standard business service at this point in time." "i apologize. thanks for calling mediacom."

my next call was to the internet people: he adjusted my bill - prorated for seven service-less days - for the next bill i'll receive.

i started to tell him about my 'getting screwed over' saga. he said he couldn't help me with that, and that he'd transfer me to billing. woof!

"hello this is don." "is this mediacom?" "yes." don was very very friendly. i told my story. he explained he was frustrated for me. then that there was nothing he could do. i emphasized my frustration and the fact that i had been screwed "so that a couple of corporations could make a bit more money...doesn't seem fair." he then offered me a half-off discount for the next two months. so i took it, thanked it, and said "hypothetically, if i had said 'cancel my subscription,' what would you have been authorized to say?" "the same thing. i sensed you were getting ready to say that, so i made the offer." [note: i said "cancel my subscription" to the previous customer service person twice, and she made no such offer.]

near as i can figure, here's what my upcoming bills will look like:
july: 43 to landlord, 44.10 to mediacom: 87 dollars
august: 43 to landlord, 35 to mediacom: 78 dollars [reflects proration due to cable outage]
september: 43 to landlord, 24 to mediacom: 67 [a guess: pretax half price, plus taxes]
october: 43 to landlord, 24 to mediacom: 67 [ditto]

so, the guess is, i'll pay 299 over the next four months, an average of 74.75 monthly, which approximately what i was supposed to pay under my previous agreement.

my next step: turn on the logic with the landlord.

there is no way i should pay for my service over the previous week, being that it was their mistake that kept my service off. i don't think it'll work, because they're dumb. and not tenant-friendly.

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you might not care, but i'll keep you posted.

it's been a while...here's why:
wednesday morning (last wednesday, 7/20):

i arrive home at 5:45 a.m. i head to the grocery store. i return home, and immediately go to sleep. i wake up at noon-thirty, and begin the process of doing laundry. i start the laundry, and my cable is out. i call the cable company. they tell me to contact my leasing office. (last month, there was a special notice letting tenants know that we could now get 'family basic' cable for a 'discounted' rate of $43. i have digital cable plus an internet package. i have it set on autopay. i like the credit card points, you know? i don't want the 'discounted' rate. i decline the offer.)

[i had noticed that my bill was about 60% ($44) of my normal bill ($72). i had thought that, related to my ignoring the notice, mediacom had shut off my cable. i had noticed that my bill covered '7/1-7/18,' so i was sure this was the case, and it had been mistakenly turned off. this was not the case.]

i call the leasing office. "you have to come pay through us." "i don't want that rate. i'm happy with the service and price i was getting." "if you want cable, you have to pay through us now."

i come down with the check. on the way down, i do the math. previously: about $72 bucks, for cable + internet. currently: $87. bullshit.

i write the check. "i have to pay through you?" "yes." "how long until my cable will be on?" "we'll send maintenance right up." "do you realize i'm paying $15 more a month now." "this is the way the policy works." "will you reimburse me for the extra payment?" "it's $43 bucks. that's all i know." [rips check] "that sucks." [walks out.]

i shift into the dryer. i head upstairs. cable's not on. twenty minutes later, it's still not on. i call. "they're headed up there." maintenance guy stops by. "check it now." fuzz. "hold on, let me check something." now my laundry's just about folded. "check it now." bullseye! and we're back.

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later wednesday night...my internet's non-functional. and my bedroom tv split off the same line is non-functional. i place the call to the leasing office to let them know...leave a message.

thursday
leasing office calls. "we got your problem, and we'll go fix it up."

as of thursday night...service isn't on. i leave another message.

friday
i receive a message from the leasing agent. we've done all we can, so, if it's not functioning, you'll have to schedule an appointment with mediacom.

sunday
using my night off, i call mediacom. ... "because it's a bulk account, you have to schedule your appointment through your leasing office." me: bullshit! i leave a message at the leasing office... "unfortunately, they have to go through you. please let me know a time that the cable guy will be around. i can't be there, but i'd need you to let him in.

monday
i receive a message, and she acts like i'm inconveniencing her: "hey andrew. this is dj [yes, like dj tanner!] from landmark properties. i just got off the phone with mediacom - they gave me the run-around, put me on hold for 45 minutes, so i'm pretty annoyed, too - anyway, i've got an appointment for tomorrow, sometime between 10 and 1. please call to let us know that you authorize their visit when you're not here." bitch. i call and authorize.

tuesday [that is, today]
i receive a call at 11:26. "this is greg from mediacom. we've fixed your cable, so you'll be all set." i head home at 11:49. cable's not on. not working. fuzz on the tv screen, "receive only" on the modem. no signal. nothing fixed.

at 200, back at work, i call the leasing office. machine. "this is andrew in 509. i got a call that the mediacom guy came and fixed it, but i checked, and the problem's still there. only the top two lights on my modem are illuminated. i don't get anything but fuzz on my tv screen. and, unfortunately, i can't schedule the visit myself. i apologize for being a bother, but it's your system. please keep me posted."

i get a quick callback from dj. "he said it was working fine." "the digital cable is, the internet still isn't working. neither is the tv in that room." "which room?" "the living room is fine. the bedroom jack isn't working." "you know, sometimes different units have their jacks in different places. maybe i'll have maintenance check to make sure that both switches are turned on." "i apologize for asking, and it's none of my business, but how much are you getting out of this deal?" "we're breaking even. it's an amenity." "that's ridiculous." "how can i get reimbursed for the fact that you've kept my cable out for the past week?" "you pay a flat rate to us. you'll have to take that through mediacom." "that's incredible." ... ... ... "well, check your when you get home tonight." "[angrily] will do. bye."

so i check when i get home tonight, and the cable's fucking on. that's anger, not excitement. a week of frustration, caused exclusively by their incompetence.

next step: get my bill turned around. get my rate prorated. get my old rate back. i'll be on hold a lot tonight.

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i've made a decision, and perhaps my faithful reader[s] can talk me out of it.

scenario: this month, i've received about two times as much salary as i normally do. i've got a shady lump sum of money received quarterly for not taking benefits through the office. i've got an admittedly small commission. and, because july has five fridays, i've gotten paid three times.

money to save, or, perhaps burn.

i'm choosing to burn.

i've done the research, and i can get a playstation2 from eb games for $120, used, with guarantee. the new ea football game costs $50. cookie the intern, who has started a dynasty with the cats, and who has invited me to 'watch him play' with the cats, has an extra memory card. it's four bucks to get it stocked with names by that one guy.

net investment: $200ish, including tax. i think it's worth it, although it could mean that i'll read less, sit more, eat more, and stop losing weight. on the other hand, i figure i'll win a championship with the cats by 2010. september is gonna be awesome.

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thursday morning, i was feeling ill. i went to the grocery store. bought 2 bottles of pepto, 2 two-liters of diet sierra mist. 7 bucks. the clerk gave me a coupon from the register: buy 1 get 1 free maxi pads. woof!

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i think matt murton is the answer in left. true hitter.

on sunday, i came back from a break and sang the praises of the music being played at the ballpark. at about 12 minutes to game time, xtc's "season cycle" (from skylarking) was played and then, between innings, played the johnny cash version of "i won't back down."

i thought this was worth mentioning. [they also played the fantastic "swing, swing" song from 2003, but i can't sing those praises.]

today, i was through with my postgame show, and i was doing some postgame work. windows were open, and my counterpart was speaking loudly.

and returning from break, he said 'as coldplay brings us back,' and i thought that dude was totally a dork.

the lesson here is that, as usual, i'm a prick.

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dave's mom was on letterman tonight. that's always one of the highlights.

she gave her "top ten things i have learned in my 84 years."

among the highlights:
10) in a pinch, vanilla extract can give you a good buzz.
7) male figure skaters are usually gay.
4) with a color printer, you can easily make counterfeit meineke gift certificates.
3) never give a bookie your home phone number.

i do lurve dave.

a run-of-the-mill road trip has turned aces.

friday night, gurs + uber-chick susan joined me in appleton for that fine wisconsin tradition - tailgated brats on the grill. sadly, travel delays/traffic/miscommunications (or so i hear) led to a later-than-planned arrival, which meant that gurs and susan did not arrive in time for pregame grilling. however, the dynamic duo made it up to the booth for about the third-through-seventh innings, at which point i kicked them out so that they could head on field for 'oversized boxing.' the shorts-clad gurs was no match for the skirt-clad susan, who scored two knockdowns in the most lopsided oversized boxing match i've ever seen.

but the real treat was the postgame susan-prepared buffet, complete with brats, yuengling beer, miller products, grilled vegetables, chopped onions, grapes, and the northwestern afghan. although our time was limited to about 45 minutes of gurs-rud-susan time, it was well worth it.

for my time, i received four bitchin' wedding pictures - all smiles, plus one with a rose in my mouth - as well as nick hornby's a long way down, his newest novel. susan went totally above and beyond the call of duty, and gurs wins.

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saturday was nearly as good. after the all-night bus ride [seriously - we departed appleton at 11:30 CDT, and arrived in dayton 9:15 CDT], i checked into my room, turned on the british open, and slept until 3:30.

bus at 5:30 to the ballpark. i was greeted shortly thereafter by nemo, who was my guest for the night. he did some pxp, we talked some wedding, i described the pretzel we were sharing as 'hard and crusty on the outside, soft on the inside, much like yours truly,' we talked more wedding, we ran down the list of great princeton athletes, and we generally had a good time. generally, we giggled a lot, and got a nice email from one of the player's grandfather as thanks.

saturday night featured a return trip to o'charley's, the scene of the crime in 2003. six tall beers combined consumed, about three more rud-glasses of water, and ten total chi-pole-tay wings. waiter couldn't pronounce it.

this morning was a bit rockier. cracker barrel was packed. bob evans was not. we had the five-minute wait at bob's. in that time, we saw the hitting coach and his wife and his baby boy. "andrew!" "hey keith." "have you met my wife, leslie?" "no. [shake] . good to meet you. this is nemo." "good to meet you. [shake]." ... idle chat ... keith's name is called.

what i only later realized is that nemo hadn't been identified. keith's never seen me 'work it.' because nemo was introduced as 'nemo,' and not 'nemo, my college roommate, nemo'...well...who goes to breakfast on sunday morning? married couples. dating couples. gay couples. time for this guy to work his magic, and time for this guy to make sure that keith is present when this guy is working his magic. otherwise, these things spread...

still, aces. tops weekend during a season ever, at least tops among those that featured me also broadcasting games.

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two more players were ejected from our game today. our guy for throwing at a batter. their guy for hitting one of ours in retaliation a few innings later. our third reliever hit the same guy that had been thrown at in the third inning. after the game, stunned that he wasn't tossed, reliever said to me: 'i thought mine was pretty obvious.' i thought it was pretty funny.

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does it say something good/bad/neutral about me that i'm absolutely riveted by russell simmons' def poetry jam on hbo? it's my favorite part of road trips that occurs at 1 a.m.

first, i'd like to state that the 'instinct' test has to be passed if a player is to be considered a Hall of Famer. When you think Rafael Palmeiro, do you think "Hall of Famer?" I don't. Therefore, I don't think he's a Hall of Famer.

When I hear the name "Griffey, Jr.," I think Hall of Famer. When I hear Clemens or Big Unit, I think Hall of Famer. When I hear Sosa, I think, sadly, Hall of Famer. When I hear Biggio, I think Hall of Famer. When I hear Pujols, I think Hall of Famer.

When I hear Palmeiro, I don't.

[Are there fringy guys I do think should be in? G. Anderson. Nope. B. Wagner? Maybe. T Hoffman? Yes. M. Alou? No.]

However, based on this logic, Ron Santo is a Hall of Famer, but Don Larsen isn't. Based on this, it seems, Eddie Murray might not be either [although I don't remember his peak, of course.]

It just seems to me that Palmeiro doesn't pass the "Best Player at His Position for a Few Years" test which, it seems to me, is a pretty good determinant of whether he is a Hall of Famer. Who is in the 3,000-500 club? I haven't looked it up, but I know the answer is "Only Hall of Famers." But he doesn't exude greatness. He doesn't have a signature moment [except for this past March.]. I know he's in, and I guess he's earned it, but it doesn't make me comfortable.

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I have made three phone calls specifically to sing the praises of About a Boy by Nick Hornby. It's very breezy and very quick but so so smart.

Rough sketch: Independently wealthy [and therefore unemployed] mid-30's [I think] guy invents an infant son so that he can attend support group for single parents, mostly because hot single moms, while hot, have trouble finding mates. Because, you know, they're moms.

Indirectly, through the group, he meets a not-hot single mom, whose son begins stopping by his apartment. The guy becomes, roughly, a friend of the young boy. He is not, of course, the young boy's dad.

Dialogue:
Adult [who likes a new woman]: "Anyway, The point is, this woman thinks you're my son."
Boy [not his son]: "So tell her I'm not."
A: "No."
B: "Why not?"
A: "We're just going around in circles here. Why can't you just accept the facts?"

I hope I'm not the only one who finds that exchange hilarious.

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I have been trying to get in contact with a friend. A friend who lives in the eastern time zone and who, therefore, has to wait until 10 to hear from me, who doesn't get free minutes until nine. I called my friend both Tuesday and Wednesday night.

Thursday, I receive a return message, one of the greatest messages I've ever received:

"Hey pal, this is [XX]. I'm sorry I've missed your calls over the past few days but, uh, when I got them, I was, uh, uh, making out."

Why this message was outstanding: If you knew this guy, you'd know why it was great.
B) Because, while my call was made during the evening [prime making out time], he returned in the afternoon, and decided to include the making out information.

miguel tejada's a good sport: upon seeing that he recieve a corvette: "woo, that's nice. thank you."

i mean, i bet he can probably afford one.

i think that joe buck is the most snide, sarcastic, and arrogant person to ever take a national microphone. i find his arrogance insulting. if you're going to have that attitude, you better not make mistakes, and he sure called the cubs first baseman "carlos lee" while doing the starting lineups for the tv [although not as the pa guy.]

i wonder if joe buck will every be 'beloved'...are national broadcasters beloved? i'm not sure, but i'm pretty sure joe buck will never be that. i also wonder if joe buck wil be allowed to be the 'national voice' well into old age. if that's the case, i wonder if he'll ever lose the arrogance.

i find him quite off-putting.

tejada did get a bitchin' yellow ride.

one of the oddest - and most depressing - things about my job is the fact that i am utterly and completely out of the loop on 'world' issues - world issues outside of baseball, anyway.

when at home, as we are this week, i'm generally at the ballpark from the time i wake up until about 10:30 p.m. this usually means a 12-hour day. i return home, read some blogs, watch some letterman, do some reading, and go to sleep. or perhaps i go get a beer or two. or perhaps i go play video games. i'm a pretty good employee, which is to say that i devote my time at work to my work, and not to issues of the world. i'll sometimes check email accounts or the flax greatest-song-ever pool or the front page of espn.com, but generally i'm devoted to work issues. [looking at baseball america's website counts as work, you know...]

that is why it's fringe-depressing that i know nothing about what happened this morning in london, save for the thoughtful comments from nemo and treem, and for the brief - and highly rewarding - "i'm cool" email from sumo.

that's all i've got on that issue.

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i hate the sentence "the war on terror escalates as the quad cities sends more soldiers to iraq." i just saw that sentence spoken on the local news rerun. of course, iraq and war on terror were at least, initially, unrelated.

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remember that toby keith song? "uncle sam put your name at the top of his list. and the statue of liberty started shaking her fist. ... boot in your ass - that's the american way." it doesn't strike me as an uplifting or happy or sappy or family-oriented song. that's why it was particularly surprising to me when, this past weekend, our opponents started their fourth of july fireworks show with that song every night... it's not really a song that makes you 'proud to be an american,' is it?

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benches cleared three times in our game on friday night. it was absolutely pathetic. it left me numb and upset at both teams. and the umps sucked.

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corey patterson has been sent down to triple-a. corey patterson has been sent down to triple-a. it's a pretty drastic move, and i hope he's back - and not sucking - soon.

dammit. it's 430 in the morning, i just got back from the road trip, and i somehow managed to crack my right contact lens. that's 160 bucks down the tube. dammit.

we had three separate bench-clearing situations in tonight's game. it started in early june, when a player launched a few extra-base hits against our starter. our starter hit him thursday. their starter threw behind one of our guys friday. nothing really happened saturday. today, things happened. after they hit a home run, the next batter was hit. benches cleared. no punches thrown. pitcher and hitter - who started to charge - are tossed. no punches. next inning, home run guy came up again. he got hit. benches cleared. top of the eighth, a fastball sails over our guys head. tensions raise, but nobody leaves the bench. ninth inning. fastball hits our catcher in the front shoulder. our manager argues that the pitcher should be tossed. [he should have.] manager gets ejected. our hitting coach, coaching at first, comes toward the plate. apparently says something to the pitcher. pitcher pretends to fire a fastball at our coach. benches really clear. nobody throws a punch, a few more players get ejected.

i blasted - really blasted - our hitting coach. "he's got to be the adult," i believe i said. i was pretty pissed - at our hitting coach, at the umpires who took no control, at the opponent for throwing - twice - at us. our team insists that nobody was intentionally hit tonight...i can't believe it - the timing was too perfect.

i should sleep. alarm goes off at 915.

can you believe big papi is the leading vote-getter? how about that!

i'm erasing the ghost story, an idea hatched this time on friday night/sat. morning. let us never speak of it again.

i sure like my parents.

that's about all. they drove the two [extended to three due to chicago traffic] trip to indiana today to catch a ballgame and take their second son to lunch and then take in a game and perhaps get a beer afterward.

lunch was fantastic...snappy conversation as always. and then the intern returned to the bus and i returned to the parents' hotel room and we went and laid by the pool for a few hours. and then we went to the game - i did some prep work, kept score in the stands for the first three, dropped by to call the game for the fourth and fifth innings [at my dad's suggestion - he, wisely, didn't want me to skip out on the game and then give my boss grounds for firing, or something] - then returned to the stands for the final four. i bought a round for the final four innings, and that was nice.

postgame we waited for the intern to finish the work, then went to an old haunt of my dad's. mom was tired, i was preoccupied by the white sox [some kid named walker had a great battle to get a popup with the bases loaded and the game tied, and then missed badly in walking nick swisher], service was slow, and the food wasn't up to snuff. then, after a walk around the restaurant [and its accompanying nd timeline], we prepared to exit.

over the hostess stand, there's a photo of the irish celebration following the outstanding florida state-notre dame [charlie ward v. kevin mcdougal!] game of 1993. the museum-style placard below it says something like: "Game of the Century - Lou Holtz and the Irish faithful celebrate after No. 2 Notre Dame topples No. 1 Florida State." I make a snide remark: "Hey mom, isn't that you on the goalposts?" [M and D were at the game...I was watching in Glenview with a not-college-football-fan friend...sigh.] Intern says: "Why was it the Game of the Century?" I answer: "Number 1 vs. Number 2." He says: "But was there something significant?" I say: "Number 1 vs. Number 2." He says: "So it wasn't really a big upset then..."

I think: This is annoying. One versus two doesn't happen. That's why it's notable and memorable and was fantastic. I choose not to respond, but instead say to my mom, "Badgering the witness!" She says, "Huh?" I'll explain in the morning, when we're at breakfast. [Which reminds me, I should sleep soon...]

[Earlier I had expressed my frustration, as I previously have here, with the intern. Perhaps too entitled. Perhaps too ungrateful. Perhaps just a confrontational person. [Ding!] Plus, his conversational voice is pleasant enough but, because it's a higher-pitched voice [not high-pitched, like a castrato, but higher-pitched] than most radio guys, when he turns on the 'announcer voice,' it gets squeaky. nemo's beaten that, but i think it's tough to do.]

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adjective usage gone too far: in the current sports illustrated, albert chen describes the repertoire of a cardinals pitcher - i believe chris carpenter.

he describes two pitches, both inaccurately or, better said, inefficiently:

example 1
how it reads: "[armed with]...his four-seam, mid-90's fastball..."
what rubs me wrong: there are two types of basic fastball: the four-seamer and the two-seamer. [there's also the cut fastball or the split-fingered fastball, but i think that these are now more commonly called the cutter and the splitter or the split-fingered pitch.] the pitch can be accurately called the four-seam fastball, with 'four-seam' not a descriptor but rather part of the noun 'four-seam fastball,' or even simply 'four-seamer'.'
therefore, how it should read, in order to be more efficient: "[armed with]...his mid-90's four-seam fastball," or, alternately "[armed with]...his mid-90's four-seamer..."
why i think my version is better: one less comma=better

example 2
how it reads: "...and a parabolic curveball..."
what rubs me wrong: basic physics. every pitch is parabolic. [perhaps the air-on-seams force is working on the pitch harder on the curve, but it's still a projectile and, therefore, still travels a parabolic path...]
therefore, how it should read: "...and a motherfucker of a curveball..."
why my version is better: how cool would it be to see "motherfucker of a curveball" in sports illustrated?

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i got a brief chance to talk to gurs this evening, returning, i think, three calls. didi and coach and rico are on the list next - i'm hoping to accomplish saturday and sunday pre-bus. i'd also like to talk to nemo soon, to see how his 'tasting' went.

- - - - -

i think this tv on the radio stuff is destined for rud-novelty-hit status, but it is pretty trippy and pretty catchy-ish and pretty cool. i think, if i ever see it in a jukebox, and i'm drunk enough to consider the jukebox a good investment, i'll play the song "dreams." very cool and very suitable for hipster bars. i bet unstadt's played it somewhere.