Lou Pickney's Online Commentary
Verizon Switch
Monday
February 19, 2007
"Life's tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late."
-Benjamin Franklin
On Saturday, following more than a year of inferior cell phone service from Sprint, I made the leap to Verizon, obtaining a VX8300 phone. And, so far, I'm thrilled.
The phone works in my apartment, which is a major upgrade over the Sprint SCP5500 phone that I had, where the over/under for dropping a call was two minutes (and -115 on the under.) It's easy to embrace the next big thing, but the VX8300 works here, which is really all I care about. Just my luck would be if I move to Nashville and can't get a signal, but Matt and Turbo are both on Verizon and seem to have no problems, and my work Verizon LG phone has worked fine everywhere I've tried it, so... That's the run-on sentence way of saying that I'm happy with it.
Not so fast, though. Sprint wants its vig. In a poor decision, I went through with a two year deal with Sprint in September 2005, so I'm stuck with them unless I either:
1. Pay $150
2. Move to Alaska
3. Move to Europe
As much as I'd love to set up shop in Munich and spend two years penning a novel, that's not going to happen, not now anyway. And Alaska is damn cold. So $150 it is, the price paid to education.
I have so many odds and ends here in my apartment that I need to unload. Some things will be given away before I move: the couch and chair set from 1983 that my parents gave me when they no longer needed it, probably my bed, etc. Consolidation is forthcoming; I'm moving from a palace into tight quarters at Matt's house. No complaints: he's got a great place, but I will have to be smart with space instead of holding onto borderline worthless junk that I "might" be able to sell on eBay someday.
Included in the fire sale: one year's worth of College Music Journals from 2003, when I briefly flirted with the idea of starting an independent music distribution company; back issues of Playboy and FHM and Maxim (including British versions of some); a sealed pack of playing cards promoting the movie Wedding Crashers that I got at Circiut City. Or maybe I'll keep the cards. We'll see.
I'm a packrat by nature, albeit a sloppy one, and this does not make for the most tidy of setups. I will be renting space in Nashville to store the big stuff that I don't have room for, planning for the day when I buy my own house and then need to have stuff to move into it.
|  | Clint Bowyer (07) finished the 2007 Daytona 500 the hard way, escaping from his burning car.
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I tried watching some of the NBA All-Star Game last night, but I found it to be entirely disinteresting. The NBA game itself is fun to watch generally, but without the pretense of defense I don't see what thrill there is. Especially with the Daytona 500 having ended in a photo finish just an hour before, complete with one car ending the race crossing the line literally upside down and on fire... I mean, how can a basketball exhibition compare?
This may be disorganized, self-indulgent, rambling, et al, but that's the way I've felt today. I woke up out of sorts for no discernible reason. Maybe it's the new muscle relaxer, but it's hard to blame the meds when you feel it from the moment you wake up, all mentally out of sorts.
To point: in the car this morning, waiting for the ice to defrost, I realized that I had the air on full-blast... on A/C. Did someone slip some Topamax into my system without me knowing?
Maybe it's the peanut butter: blame the Peter Pan jar that I bought last month only because it was on sale -- I'm normally a Jif guy. 2111, the starting digits on the fine print on the top, told me that the peanut butter that I've halfway consumed may be tainted.
Or, alternately, maybe I just need more sleep. I napped for an hour and a half this afternoon/evening; generally, when I'm out of sorts, sleep is a decent cure-all. But now I need to sleep again, which may or may not work. Wish me luck.
See, this is what happens when I don't concentrate on one topic; you find me going to seven disjointed points. But that's how my mind typically operates, which I think is why I have trouble staying organized. But I digress...
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