I Padd? I Sizzle?

I Padd? I Sizzle?

Who among us used to watch Star Trek: The Next Generation?

*Raises hand in some worfed warped blend of embarrassment, enthusiasm and general geekdom.*

Picard was an apple manIf you’re among we of the sci-fi inclined, you’ll get a kick out of this article.  It’s kinda cool-funny to think that show got so much right.  The only thing off was the timeline.  The show called it the PADD.  Apple calls it iPad.  Wonder if Gene Roddenberry’s estate gets a kickback?

One of many things that make you go, “Hmmm…”

Another is the 1960’s fashions.  Or worse, 1970’s home fashions.  I can deal with lime green and burnt orange but dayum… There’s ugly and then there’s UGLY:

Why did 1975 hate me

I swear this IS a photo from my mom’s living room.  The awful paneling – the pumpkin hued futzy-wutzy sofa.  The bad artwork and crummy carpet wrinkled directly over unpadded concrete floors.  The only thing missing was the TV and metal TV trays.

Oh well, at least we wore cool clothes. Right?

Right?

In addition to disco and all its glittery schmaltz, the seventies delivered sizzler sets, blouses that masqueraded as dresses.  I moved to Arizona at 14.  The school I left behind required young women to wear skirts more  more than 2″ above the knee, no dyed hair (the latter rule was ignored) and no trousers on “young ladies.”  Yeaaahh… about that…

Arizona was a whole ‘nother world.  Kids I knew wore stuff like this to school:

Sizzler Sets

Lest any of the younger set dismiss this as nothing in comparison to Paris Hilton, let me bring you up to speed.  1) This was junior high schoolers, not spoiled rotten socialites already famous for a porn film.  2) This illustration is most definitely not an exaggeration of how short this stuff was.  The only saving grace was the matching panties that were part of the entire costume.  Let’s just say it was was an eye-opener for me.  It also wasn’t uncommon for my peers to arrive in halter tops and God knows what else.

Fear not, my little ones.  I won’t inflict that kind of ugliness on YOUR eyes.  You’re safe from pics of me at that age.  Mostly because I don’t have any, but either way you’re still safe.

I left work early today, after a semi-frantic call from G.  The loverly electric company shut off our power.  I knew it wasn’t an issue of payment.  I don’t owe them a penny.  Needless to say I had an extra measure of hot under the collar going when I stormed into their offices.  They got pissy because I didn’t bring in my ID to their offices as requested.  Had nothing to do with payment or anything else.  What’s even better is that they supposedly sent me a notice that I needed to bring it in, but it was conveniently never delivered to me.  They have my phone number and my email address but they sent it via USPS, also known as the Black Hole of all ways of sending information.  Nice as it would be to pretend that snail mail is charmingly old fashioned, it’s realistically more like a whole lot of irresponsibility going on.  I could tell you about the experience where we were dealing with something critical that required us to receive certified mail.  We filled out change of address forms.  We even talked to the postmaster about the issue after the mail was returned undeliverable for the FOURTH time.  He was supposed to hold our mail at the Post Office so we could pick it up.

After certified mail (let’s not imagine, shall we, how much NON certified mail was returned) was returned for the eighth time, we moved to a different part of town.  And sadly, this was the early 1990’s when email wasn’t a real option.

Sadly, one woman was there with us at the Post Office.  She’d bought a house in the community and couldn’t get anything after six months.  After the extremes we experienced I’m betting she’s still fighting the problem.  God help anyone who needed to get a payment or other critical stuff by mail on a regular basis.

Point of the story is that while I don’t know for sure the electric company sent the notice they claimed, I know for a fact that the Post Office is a pathetic joke.  All too often I’ve seen mail postmarked days AFTER some assholian institution decreed to give me shit, claiming they’d sent out a notice and it was my fault for not responding.  In those cases it’s impossible to know whether the Post Office or the Assolian Inc are responsible.

Power’s back on now, turn on fees waived after much snarling on my part.  I was not. in. the. mood. to argue with anyone and I think I skeered the poor rep behind the counter.  As it should be.


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