Good evening, 919 Gang. I can’t help
but think that the situation Michele Davis reports below is to some degree
related to the fact that the carriers do not work for the U-T.
MICHELE
DAVIS
writes:
According to a Facebook web site for U-T
subscribers the carriers who distribute the paper are being disciplined if they
send out Christmas cards to their customers. Supposedly the U-T is indicating
they will supply something for the carriers to put out. There has been a huge
issue in the past regarding tips for the carriers. In the past if a customer
sent in a payment and tip to the U-T the tip was distributed to the carrier in
the form of a credit on his or her bill for the papers purchased. That is no
longer the case as the carriers now receive a bill from an independent
contractor. The carriers were not receiving their tips and the independent
contractor(s) kept the tips.
Now it seems the carriers are being
harassed for contacting customers and are asking for help.
I have attached two of the notices the
independent contractor who oversees carriers has put out to the carriers. If
you want to read the entire thread go to Facebook, San Diego Union-Tribune Subscribers
and read the thread. This is a pitiful situation.
I have tried leaving a message for my
carrier through the U-T but they refuse to take a message, claiming they have
no way of giving them a message. That is complete BS. In the same manner they
notify the carrier of a vacation stop, they can leave a message for the
carrier. They refuse to do so.
I suspect they will have a lot of
carrier turnover right after Christmas as a result of this nonsense.
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UNCLE REX lurching
Photographer Jolly Joe
Holly reported in with the trick of his trade: a scenic countryside road to
somewhere. His thumb sez All is Well.
“OK Rex
I’ll see you on the 3rd…I’m heading on down the road.”
So, join with Joe by saying YES at exrayfish@cox.net
and you can be a star at third 919 U-T Reunion Dec 3 at Black Angus on Friars Road.
The
36 would-be revelers so far: Martha and Hector
Munoz, Joe Holly, Peggy Scott, Jerry Rife, Walt Baranger, Terri Spilecki, Bill
Scott, Anne Magill, Bernie Hunt, Patric Petrie, Lola Sherman, Phil McMahan,
David Ogul, Nancy Davidson, Cecil Scaglione, Michael Scaglione, Miriam Raftery,
Floyd Thomas, Yolanda Thomas, Carl Larsen, Sharon Larsen, Gary Mortenson, Diana
Mortenson, Jack Reber, Terrance Rodgers, Tom Gable, Dennis Corbran, Emmet
Pierce, Karen Dingwall, Anne Krueger, Kim Cox, Robert Laurence, Lynnie Salmon,
and Rex Salmon. Your good name here could draw five more out of past papers.
Last year we had 73 live ones.
You’ve
got 5 days to join us for a magical night of renewed friendships. You’ll
get a printed name tag souvenir. If you discover you’re available at the last
moment, shoot on over. You’ll have to print your own game tag.
Two sent regrets: Logan Mckechnie and
Pauline Repard both asked if another night could be picked for the fourth 919
Reunion. A Sunday date is set for Dec 1, 2019, but not to confuse those who
have delayed signing up for the current one! Logan works in the LA area and
asked for a six-month advance notice, so he has it.
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REBER: A member wrote: “Finger pointing! That is Bill Murray as he was
seen in ‘Stripes,’ not Bill Murray from ‘Caddyshack’ that is on the Charleston
bar wall that Chuck Boyd shared.
Below
is an enlarged image. Decide for yourself. For my money, any mention of Bill
Murray movies has to include “Lost in Translation,” a film that showed he is more than just a
comedian.
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MIRIAM
RAFTERY
writes:
My dinosaur of a computer is dying and I need
to replace it. Since my track record with new computers in the past has been
trouble-prone, I urgently need to find a reliable and competent computer
consultant who does on-site visits for hardware issues (I have bad disks in my
neck/back and am unable to lug a computer into a store) as well as remote
log-ins for any software or trouble shooting. My son formally did this for me,
but he is traveling for work and away more than he’s in town.
I’ve had very bad luck being burned by
every form of incompetence known to man when I’ve tried hiring consultants
before, such as losing a year’s worth of emails someone was supposed to
archive. I once bought a computer from a big company that went out of business
two days later, only to learn they never paid the extended warranty company so
I got burned that way, too. There are more examples but I won’t bore you with
details.
Can anyone recommend a wonderful
computer consultant whom you have regularly used and found to be competent? I
would consider a monthly retainer to know that someone is there when I need
help. Since I run a wildfire alert service, it’s critical that I not be offline
for any extended periods.
I use a PC (not a MAC) and live in the La Mesa
area, so ideally it would be good to find someone who isn’t at the opposite end
of the county.
Huge thanks for any and all
recommendations!
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DAVID
FARMER writes:
I feel the need to clear the air after several
days of pungent discussion. I want to expel that topic in all its forms.
Instead, my subject is the innocent 1950s kind
of humor known as the knock-knock joke. It was popular in the halls of Ramona
High School when I was there from 1952 to 1956.
This kind of drollery depended on nearly
universal public awareness of a person, trend or event. Such awareness was the
result of the limited nature of the mass media in those years: three broadcast
networks (no cable), usually three local TV stations (up to five in the biggest
cities), a dozen or two national magazines (like the Saturday Evening Post,
Time, Newsweek, women's magazines (is that category even legal these days?)
like Ladies Home Journal, Reader's Digest (a little mag with the biggest
circulation in America), local newspapers morning and afternoon, and radio
(offering weekly national shows that everyone listened to).
One
example of a joke requiring saturation awareness: the 1952 movie "High
Noon" was seen by nearly everyone in America. So one kid could walk up to
another and say, "Knock-knock." The second kid was required to reply,
"Who's there?" The first would answer, "Donut." Second kid:
"Donut who?" First kid (singing): "Donut forsake me oh my darling
on this our wedding day...."
Broadway
shows in New York provided fodder, but only after their songs had been
nationally distributed on the radio. Thus: Kid 1: Knock-knock. Kid 2: Who's
there? Kid 1: Sam and Janet. Kid 2: Sam and Janet who? Kid 1 (singing): Sam and
Janet evening, you may see a stranger....
My
final example is one that didn't originate in the 50s. Kid 1: Knock-knock. Kid
2: Who's there? Kid 1: Ike and Tina. Kid 2: Ike and Tina who? Kid 1 (singing):
Don't cry for me Ike and Tina....
As
you can see, the format could still be used today. But only if nuclear war
reduces us to the media of the 1950s.
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REX SALMON deodorizing:
I don’t recall ever sighting this Ken Williams
on our Nebraska farm on the banks of the Little Blue River. And I’m sure he
never parked his legs under our dinner table loaded with fresh farm goodness.
So, how is he so positive with what words we used in the family? I wrote
earlier that when breaking wind, we called it putt.
Ken
wrote “Rex Salmon meant to type ‘poot.’” Nope, Ken. Putt is the word. In fact
putt is still used today. One brother got mad at another years ago and he still
refers to him as Putt when writing to me. Forgiveness is needed to refresh
the air between my semi-drivers.
Thanks
for the info about poot. I googled it and held my nose when I read that it’s an
act of breaking wind – used informally in the US. So, I forgive you Ken for
being so positive what I meant.
SUZANNE
MACK-LOEBER
writes:
One
of my children (I will not mention which of the three) would say, "Oops, I
bibbled" when they passed gas.
My mother would refer to it as
"breaking wind
MICHAEL GRANT writes:
Re the flatulence issue (so to speak), there
are other ports from which escaping gas can trigger mirth among humans. I am
compelled to speak by a new TV commercial making the rounds. In the commercial,
Grandpa is asleep in his chair, his head lolled back, eyeglasses back on his
head, and he is snoring. (If you have read my Facebook post about this, you
need read no farther.) Also in the room are Grandma, who is knitting, and his
children and grandchildren, arrayed around the room as if at a holiday
gathering. Grandpa’s nostrils are flapping as the air passes through them, and
one of the son-in-laws remarks that the nostrils are playing a tune: “Flight of
the Bumblebee.” And that is the source of my complaint. The ad makers are
stealing my idea. Anyone in my family can tell you of my long fascination with
Whistling Nasal Occlusions, created when air passes over a nasal occlusion,
which acts as a reed or a horn, or sometimes both. The perp does not necessarily
need to be asleep, and the nostrils rarely flap. When I call attention to it, I
just call it a WNO. Recognizable music is produced, even at the dinner table.
Snatches of “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Nat (King) Cole’s “Mona Lisa.” “Silent
Night.” Someone near and dear to me does a great “Play Misty for Me.” In the
commercial, a grandson gently pokes Grandpa’s nose with his finger, and the
tune changes to a clarinet jazz tune. I have to admit, I had never thought of
that. WNO Radio
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REBER: Bob
Dietrich takes the spotlight tonight. Happy Birthday, Nov. 28, Bob.
P.O.
Box 2239
Ramona,
Calif. 92065-0938
USA
