Just Some Stuff…

not quite our model? The remote is different

Just when I had been so proud of myself for getting our air conditioners installed, Janet decides the bedroom one is kaput (itʼs not, but…) and we must replace it. So we did, on Sunday. We enriched the Wal-Mart corporation yet again, acquiring a new GE climatiseur (the instructions came in three languages — English, French and Spanish — and I like that French word for the device) in preference to the identical Haier (more or less identical, interchangeable at least for Wal-Mart purposes) and left our local store several hundred dollars poorer.

Janet was spending most of Sunday making salads of various kinds (including some fresh guacamole, yeah!), so I got right to work extricating the old machine (available for sale, anyone, probably fifty bucks or less; itʼs a Quasar — couldnʼt have been my science/fiction side raising its head when we bought that one a decade or so back) and then lugging in the new one in its box. This one involved more assembly than any previous  device of its kind in our household, but it was all (as they intend) do-able and in less than two hours (I was deliberately being extraordinarily careful with everything, wishing to make no mistakes setting this machine up and in place and working). All it required were both a flathead and Phillips screwdriver and a pair of scissors (lots of wrappings to cut away). Naturally, we now have styrofoam padding to dispose, but it seems a valid purchase.

It does, however, come with a remote control. To me that is an unimaginably stupid extra. How hard is it to get up and turn on or turn off your air conditioner, huh? On the other hand, I put the batteries in ours, and it is sitting on the bedside table along with some books and my glasses case.

Although by Monday morning, the temperatures and humidity had dropped to wonderfully comfortable levels — and better for today and tomorrow, before gradually warming back up to summertime heat — even during the night, we still appreciated the vastly better cooling/drying capabilities of the new air conditioner. Of course, it has not been turned on again since Monday morning. But it will, it will.

Now I am tempted to fork over a hundred bucks for a (smaller and cheaper) climatiseur for the office, too… My only concern is the thirty-five foot fall to the concrete in back (and getting the screen out) versus the ill effects of putting it in right next to me in the western (therefore sunsoaked and heatbaked) window. However, as I realized Sunday, I never have dropped an air conditioner from a window yet (although I am not confident I could get the screen in — or eventually back in place — from inside the northern window, and I am not sure I want to extend our aluminum extension ladder, an heirloom from my father, up from the back patio to the office window just to get a screen out and then eventually back in place). Decisions, decisions.

Music Note

Monday also marked the arrival of a small package from gratefuldead.com — their newest archival live Dead release, this one from 1970, shortly before the release of Workingmanʼs Dead. This Fillmore East concert includes some of my favorite Dead tunes early-ish in their evolution and the Dead in acoustic mode, which I have liked from a Dickʼs Picks selection years ago (number 8). Although I have tried with some success to curtail my completist tendencies in collecting music, particularly in the late afternoon haze of retirement, some things (especially when you have been working to bring in extra cash, it seems) prove irresistible. So I succumbed, tempted by the only temporarily available Bonus Disk and a T-shirt (the Workingmanʼs Dead album cover).

Thirstystone® coasters with the Grateful Deadʼs “Stealie” logo were also on sale for about or less than half the going price, so I decided that the office could use some actual coasters to replace the cardboard ones Guinness sent out as a promotion years back. The one that my iced tea glass sits on has a distinct curl now, so a real absorbent coaster should be a good improvement, for not very much money (or thatʼs what I told myself as greed filled my gaze a few weeks back). Perhaps I will photograph them to illustrate a post as pointless as this one today another time.

A particularly annoying aspect of iTunes (what isnʼt annoying about Apple these days?), is the utter inability of the “Find Album Art” menu command to actually find the correct art for any music that you download or import yourself. Itʼs probably just one more tyrannical attempt to force us all to buy music from the iTunes Store, of course, where the scans have already been performed and the art matches flawlessly. But it is really annoying to have to go out searching the internet for already reproduced album covers or scan them yourself. As the Road Trips 3.3 release is new enough there are no online sources except the gratefuldead.com store itself, I scanned my CD covers, thus enabling me to illustrate this little portion of todayʼs post with my own scans. (Now maybe other people will be stealing the art from this site as I have located cover art elsewhere in the past.)

Maybe those new songs will play this morning as I deliver empty bottles and cans (500 of them — we kind of let everything collect until itʼs worthwhile to descend into the upper levels of hell at Can City, truly a most unpleasant smoke-fogged and underclass experience, to return stuff) and visit the dry cleaners to see if Janet is correct and we have forgotten to pick up (and pay for) some clothes for months now. If I get going early enough, maybe I wonʼt waste today.

©2010 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s