Did you ever…?
by Melech
Did you ever think about all the amazing things a computer can do? I was finally talked into buying a computer when everyone promised me that it would simplify my life, help me to manage the household budget, balance my chequebook, keep an accurate and updated inventory of my possessions, and a multitude of other miraculous things.
I brought the computer home and couldn’t wait to hook it up and begin to simplify my life. My big downfall came when I tried to make sense of the instruction booklet. It was obviously written by an inmate in an institution for the criminally insane, who had found a way to get even with the human race. No matter how many times I connected the cables and wires, every time I turned it on, it let out several long and high-pitched shrieks, some of which were only heard by a team of Alaskan sled dogs at the North Pole.
The instruction booklet informed me that even a ten-year-old child could follow the easy directions. I didn’t know any ten-year-old children, so, in desperation, I called my neighbour Bing and asked if he could help. He had it all connected and hooked-up within a matter of minutes. I still haven’t forgiven him for that, but I was pleased when he tripped over a cable I left on the floor, fell against the edge of the door and chipped a tooth.
I began typing, but nothing appeared on the screen. When I told Bing that the computer didn’t work, he let out a sigh of exasperation, reached over and turned it on. The screen lit up and announced that I had to select a password. After the computer rejected every password I tried, it finally accepted the only word I could think of at that time. That word was “help”. A menu appeared and Bing said I had to select a program. I told him I didn’t want to watch TV; I wanted to work on the computer. He patiently explained what that meant and then he suggested that I take a night school course at the local high school.
I took Bing’s advice and signed up for the beginner’s course. I was the only student in the class over eight years old and who didn’t need a booster seat to reach the keyboard.
The teacher asked if this was my first time using a computer. I told him I had used it a few times to prop open the door whilst I moved some furniture around. He totally ignored me for the remainder of the six-week course. The only time he spoke to me again was to recommend that I drop the course and get a private tutor. Once again, I turned to Bing and begged for his help. He reluctantly agreed. When our first session began, he told me I had a very good computer with a lot of memory. I asked him if the computer remembered how to turn itself on because I had forgotten. That was the first time I ever saw Bing cry.
After a few weeks, I had limited working knowledge and when I finally learned how to balance my chequebook, I discovered that the bank had been right all along.
Bing showed me how to use the “help function” and then he told me that his family would not allow him to come here anymore. My sister said she was surprised that my computer hadn’t “crashed” yet. When I told her it was very safely placed on the desk and couldn’t possibly fall off, she hung up on me.
Maybe someday I will really learn how to use the computer and it will not get so angry with me and refuse to answer me when I use the “help function”.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech.
©Copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved
The next column will be posted on November 16, 2009
File #RBCOL26
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"Did you ever...?" (Room Addition)
Did you ever…?
by Melech
Did you ever do your best to help someone who was totally unappreciative of your efforts? Last month, my neighbour Bing decided to put a room addition on his house and I offered to help. He was very apprehensive about it, but finally agreed when I promised not to use any power tools or offer any advice.
Whilst we were waiting for the lumberyard to deliver the materials, we started to measure and stakeout the area for the addition. Was he satisfied? No! He said he had to re-measure because he did not want a room shaped like an obtuse triangle. Some people just cannot be pleased. After he finished measuring, I began hammering the stakes into the ground when suddenly I shouted; “Bing! You’re rich! I struck oil!” He told me I had broken the water main. He went into the house to call the department of water and sewers whilst I watched his garden become a swamp and his garage tilt slightly to the East. The stakes I had driven into the ground disappeared, and we never did find his hammer or tape measure. I told him he could have mine, but he still wasn’t happy.
When the lumberyard delivered the lumber, our neighbour Buster came over to help us unload the truck but he didn’t stay long. I accidentally dropped a two by four on his head. He didn’t get angry; as a matter of fact, he claimed to be rather amused by being knocked senseless. When Buster left, Bing asked me if I had noticed that Buster’s eyes were rolling in opposite directions and that he was smiling a lot.
Two weeks later, the ground was dry enough to begin work again. Even though I thought everything went exceptionally well, Bing did nothing but complain. First, he said I nailed his shoe to the floorboards on purpose. Then he said I put the upright boards too close together. I disagreed, and when he tried to crawl between the boards to prove it to me, he got stuck halfway through. He yelled at me to help him get unstuck, and when I asked him which end he wanted me to save first, he told me to go home. I came back later with coffee and doughnuts as a peace offering. By that time, he had finished pulling out all the splinters and he was ready to work again. As I was handing his coffee to him, I accidentally spilled it into his shoe. This gave him something else to complain about. I still don’t believe that he sustained second degree burns on his foot and that they had to cut the shoe off his foot, but he said he couldn’t work anymore that day.
The next day, when I saw Bing limping out of the house to begin work on the room addition, I went over to help. Whilst he was on the roof nailing the boards in place, I notice that two of the uprights didn’t look quite straight. I tried to straighten them with the sledgehammer but they broke in half, which made part of the roof fall in. Unfortunately, it was the part where Bing was working, so he came down with the roof. Whilst he was in the hospital emergency room, I cleaned up the mess as best I could and waited to hear news about his condition. It was hours before he came back home because he also had to stop at the dentist to have two teeth capped.
When he finally came home, I went over to see how he was doing. He said he had to stay in bed for a few days and that he had called a construction company to finish the room addition. I asked him if that wasn’t going to be very expensive. He said yes, but if he tried to finish the project himself with me helping him, he was afraid that he would be doing “hard time” in a maximum-security prison for murder.
The room addition is finished and it looks great. I was telling all this to my sister. She said her husband was going to put an addition on their house too. I told her I would be glad to help him with it, but she hung up on me.
Some people just don’t appreciate anything you try to do.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on September 25 2009
File #RBCOL21
by Melech
Did you ever do your best to help someone who was totally unappreciative of your efforts? Last month, my neighbour Bing decided to put a room addition on his house and I offered to help. He was very apprehensive about it, but finally agreed when I promised not to use any power tools or offer any advice.
Whilst we were waiting for the lumberyard to deliver the materials, we started to measure and stakeout the area for the addition. Was he satisfied? No! He said he had to re-measure because he did not want a room shaped like an obtuse triangle. Some people just cannot be pleased. After he finished measuring, I began hammering the stakes into the ground when suddenly I shouted; “Bing! You’re rich! I struck oil!” He told me I had broken the water main. He went into the house to call the department of water and sewers whilst I watched his garden become a swamp and his garage tilt slightly to the East. The stakes I had driven into the ground disappeared, and we never did find his hammer or tape measure. I told him he could have mine, but he still wasn’t happy.
When the lumberyard delivered the lumber, our neighbour Buster came over to help us unload the truck but he didn’t stay long. I accidentally dropped a two by four on his head. He didn’t get angry; as a matter of fact, he claimed to be rather amused by being knocked senseless. When Buster left, Bing asked me if I had noticed that Buster’s eyes were rolling in opposite directions and that he was smiling a lot.
Two weeks later, the ground was dry enough to begin work again. Even though I thought everything went exceptionally well, Bing did nothing but complain. First, he said I nailed his shoe to the floorboards on purpose. Then he said I put the upright boards too close together. I disagreed, and when he tried to crawl between the boards to prove it to me, he got stuck halfway through. He yelled at me to help him get unstuck, and when I asked him which end he wanted me to save first, he told me to go home. I came back later with coffee and doughnuts as a peace offering. By that time, he had finished pulling out all the splinters and he was ready to work again. As I was handing his coffee to him, I accidentally spilled it into his shoe. This gave him something else to complain about. I still don’t believe that he sustained second degree burns on his foot and that they had to cut the shoe off his foot, but he said he couldn’t work anymore that day.
The next day, when I saw Bing limping out of the house to begin work on the room addition, I went over to help. Whilst he was on the roof nailing the boards in place, I notice that two of the uprights didn’t look quite straight. I tried to straighten them with the sledgehammer but they broke in half, which made part of the roof fall in. Unfortunately, it was the part where Bing was working, so he came down with the roof. Whilst he was in the hospital emergency room, I cleaned up the mess as best I could and waited to hear news about his condition. It was hours before he came back home because he also had to stop at the dentist to have two teeth capped.
When he finally came home, I went over to see how he was doing. He said he had to stay in bed for a few days and that he had called a construction company to finish the room addition. I asked him if that wasn’t going to be very expensive. He said yes, but if he tried to finish the project himself with me helping him, he was afraid that he would be doing “hard time” in a maximum-security prison for murder.
The room addition is finished and it looks great. I was telling all this to my sister. She said her husband was going to put an addition on their house too. I told her I would be glad to help him with it, but she hung up on me.
Some people just don’t appreciate anything you try to do.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on September 25 2009
File #RBCOL21
Friday, September 11, 2009
"Did you ever...? (Aging)
Did you ever…?
by Melech
Did you ever think about aging? I really never did until last week when I discovered that I got out of breath whilst chewing gum. How could I possibly be so out of shape?
A visit to the doctor’s office for a complete physical check-up was out of the question because the last time I was there, he told me that the warranty on all my parts had expired. I promised myself that I would never go back to a doctor who was so young that he still had braces on his teeth and smelled of Clearasil. How could he possibly understand?
My neighbour, Bing, worked out a few times a week at the local gym, and was in pretty good physical shape. I asked him if I could go with him the next time he went for his workout. He reluctantly agreed, but only if I promised not to stand anywhere near him because he hadn’t paid this month’s hospitalization premium yet.
When we walked into the gym, I immediately noticed that not one person there was a minute over twenty years old and all had bodies like Mr. Universe. What chance did I have? Our trainer approached and asked what kind of exercise program I wanted.
“What do I have to do to look like them?” I answered.
He looked at me for a while, shook his head and said, “Rub a lamp and make a wish.”
We started with some bending and stretching exercises. I found out that I could bend, but I couldn’t get back up and when I stretched, my bones refused to catch up with my skin. I could do the high kicks, but my leg wouldn’t come back down. The trainer didn’t have much patience with me. He said we would do something easy, like some walking exercises. He put me on the treadmill, set it for normal walking speed and turned it on. When I regained consciousness, one of the attendants was trying to take my blood pressure but said he couldn’t get a reading. I told him that my arteries were tired and didn’t want to cooperate. He said, “I’m glad to hear that! We thought you were dead.” “What gave me away?” I asked. He walked away without answering me.
As Bing and I limped out of the gym, (I was limping from exhaustion and pain, and Bing was limping because I dropped a barbell on his foot), I overheard the trainer ordering Bing never to bring me back again or they would cancel his membership.
Later that day, I called my sister and told her about everything that had happened.
She said that usually as a person gets older, the mind is the first thing to go, but fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I told her there was nothing wrong with my memory. She said: “Really? Then why can’t you remember my maiden name?” She suggested a memory course at the local college. “I already took one of those.” I said. “You did? she asked; “Which one?” When I told her I forgot, she hung up on me. Now, neither my sister nor Bing is speaking to me.
Who knows? Maybe someday they will perfect complete body transplants and I can have my head on the body of Mr. Universe. However, I am sure that I will have to give it back if I start to wrinkle it.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on September 19, 2009
File #RBCOL34
by Melech
Did you ever think about aging? I really never did until last week when I discovered that I got out of breath whilst chewing gum. How could I possibly be so out of shape?
A visit to the doctor’s office for a complete physical check-up was out of the question because the last time I was there, he told me that the warranty on all my parts had expired. I promised myself that I would never go back to a doctor who was so young that he still had braces on his teeth and smelled of Clearasil. How could he possibly understand?
My neighbour, Bing, worked out a few times a week at the local gym, and was in pretty good physical shape. I asked him if I could go with him the next time he went for his workout. He reluctantly agreed, but only if I promised not to stand anywhere near him because he hadn’t paid this month’s hospitalization premium yet.
When we walked into the gym, I immediately noticed that not one person there was a minute over twenty years old and all had bodies like Mr. Universe. What chance did I have? Our trainer approached and asked what kind of exercise program I wanted.
“What do I have to do to look like them?” I answered.
He looked at me for a while, shook his head and said, “Rub a lamp and make a wish.”
We started with some bending and stretching exercises. I found out that I could bend, but I couldn’t get back up and when I stretched, my bones refused to catch up with my skin. I could do the high kicks, but my leg wouldn’t come back down. The trainer didn’t have much patience with me. He said we would do something easy, like some walking exercises. He put me on the treadmill, set it for normal walking speed and turned it on. When I regained consciousness, one of the attendants was trying to take my blood pressure but said he couldn’t get a reading. I told him that my arteries were tired and didn’t want to cooperate. He said, “I’m glad to hear that! We thought you were dead.” “What gave me away?” I asked. He walked away without answering me.
As Bing and I limped out of the gym, (I was limping from exhaustion and pain, and Bing was limping because I dropped a barbell on his foot), I overheard the trainer ordering Bing never to bring me back again or they would cancel his membership.
Later that day, I called my sister and told her about everything that had happened.
She said that usually as a person gets older, the mind is the first thing to go, but fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I told her there was nothing wrong with my memory. She said: “Really? Then why can’t you remember my maiden name?” She suggested a memory course at the local college. “I already took one of those.” I said. “You did? she asked; “Which one?” When I told her I forgot, she hung up on me. Now, neither my sister nor Bing is speaking to me.
Who knows? Maybe someday they will perfect complete body transplants and I can have my head on the body of Mr. Universe. However, I am sure that I will have to give it back if I start to wrinkle it.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on September 19, 2009
File #RBCOL34
Thursday, September 3, 2009
"Did you ever...?" (Physical Fitness)
“Did you ever…?”
by Melech
Did you ever think about the amount of time, money and effort some people put into physical fitness? I am totally in favour of staying fit and in shape, just as long as I don’t have to put any time, effort, or money into it.
A few weeks ago, I saw my neighbour, Bing, jogging. We are about the same age, but he is in great physical shape and was able to wear the same clothes he wore back in high school, until the Department of Health and Sanitation made him throw them out yesterday. I took a long look at myself in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw. My chest had fallen down around my stomach, my double chin had made my neck disappear, and I could have sworn that my skin used to fit better. Junk food and gravity had taken its toll. It was time to do something about it. I went outside, stopped Bing, as he was passing my house, and asked him if we could jog together. He reminded me that I got out of breath when I chewed gum; so maybe jogging wasn’t a good idea. After a lot of insisting (and begging), he reluctantly agreed. He said that he would slow his pace so that I could keep up with him. We were only jogging for about thirty seconds when I bumped into him, stepped on the back of his shoe, and he hit the ground. I still don’t know why he was so angry. He only needed two stitches, and only one tooth got chipped.
My sister suggested that I cut out the junk food and buy some kind of exercise machine. After I threw out every bit of junk food in the house, I noticed that my refrigerator, pantry and cupboards were empty. I went to the local health food shop and bought all kinds of food that was supposed to make me healthy and trim. When I wanted a snack, a rice cake sounded good. I was more than half finished with it before I realized that I had been eating one of my cork coasters. The rice cakes and the cork coasters looked and tasted so much alike, it was an easy mistake to make. The rest of the health foods gave me a blinding headache, stomach cramps, sore kidneys, and the desire to run away from home.
The sporting goods shop had an exerciser for beginners. It was two long tension straps that you attached to your door handle, whilst you held the other two ends to do bodybuilding exercises. The instructions said to lie on the floor, attach one end of each strap to the door handle, and the other ends to your feet. I must have done something wrong because when I attached the ends of the straps to my feet, both legs flew up at an incredible speed, and I was slammed up against the door, standing on my head. I decided to try the easier exercise, where you hold one end of each strap in your hands, pull, hold, and release. I must have pulled too hard because the door handle flew off of the door and hit me squarely in the forehead. When I regained consciousness, I decided to return the tension straps to the shop and tell them that they were too dangerous.
On my way home, I stopped at the supermarket and bought some real food, and then treated myself to an ice cream sundae. Bing was sitting on his front porch when he saw me, and he went into his house without a word. I guess he isn’t speaking to me again.
I called my sister on the phone and told her what a total disaster this whole physical fitness thing had been. When she suggested that I join a health club, I pretended I didn’t hear her and I changed the subject.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2000 by Melech. All rights reserved
Next column will be posted on September 11, 2009
File#RBCOL24
by Melech
Did you ever think about the amount of time, money and effort some people put into physical fitness? I am totally in favour of staying fit and in shape, just as long as I don’t have to put any time, effort, or money into it.
A few weeks ago, I saw my neighbour, Bing, jogging. We are about the same age, but he is in great physical shape and was able to wear the same clothes he wore back in high school, until the Department of Health and Sanitation made him throw them out yesterday. I took a long look at myself in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw. My chest had fallen down around my stomach, my double chin had made my neck disappear, and I could have sworn that my skin used to fit better. Junk food and gravity had taken its toll. It was time to do something about it. I went outside, stopped Bing, as he was passing my house, and asked him if we could jog together. He reminded me that I got out of breath when I chewed gum; so maybe jogging wasn’t a good idea. After a lot of insisting (and begging), he reluctantly agreed. He said that he would slow his pace so that I could keep up with him. We were only jogging for about thirty seconds when I bumped into him, stepped on the back of his shoe, and he hit the ground. I still don’t know why he was so angry. He only needed two stitches, and only one tooth got chipped.
My sister suggested that I cut out the junk food and buy some kind of exercise machine. After I threw out every bit of junk food in the house, I noticed that my refrigerator, pantry and cupboards were empty. I went to the local health food shop and bought all kinds of food that was supposed to make me healthy and trim. When I wanted a snack, a rice cake sounded good. I was more than half finished with it before I realized that I had been eating one of my cork coasters. The rice cakes and the cork coasters looked and tasted so much alike, it was an easy mistake to make. The rest of the health foods gave me a blinding headache, stomach cramps, sore kidneys, and the desire to run away from home.
The sporting goods shop had an exerciser for beginners. It was two long tension straps that you attached to your door handle, whilst you held the other two ends to do bodybuilding exercises. The instructions said to lie on the floor, attach one end of each strap to the door handle, and the other ends to your feet. I must have done something wrong because when I attached the ends of the straps to my feet, both legs flew up at an incredible speed, and I was slammed up against the door, standing on my head. I decided to try the easier exercise, where you hold one end of each strap in your hands, pull, hold, and release. I must have pulled too hard because the door handle flew off of the door and hit me squarely in the forehead. When I regained consciousness, I decided to return the tension straps to the shop and tell them that they were too dangerous.
On my way home, I stopped at the supermarket and bought some real food, and then treated myself to an ice cream sundae. Bing was sitting on his front porch when he saw me, and he went into his house without a word. I guess he isn’t speaking to me again.
I called my sister on the phone and told her what a total disaster this whole physical fitness thing had been. When she suggested that I join a health club, I pretended I didn’t hear her and I changed the subject.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2000 by Melech. All rights reserved
Next column will be posted on September 11, 2009
File#RBCOL24
Friday, August 28, 2009
"Did you ever...?" (New Clothes)
“Did you ever…?”
by Melech
Did you ever wonder who designs your clothes? I do, and I have come to the conclusion that everything I buy was designed by the criminally insane with a grudge against the human race. Even the label that says; “Inspected by Number…” is no help because as soon as you are close to finding out who it is, they change their number and move to another city. I can’t prove any of this yet, but I think I’m on to something.
The shirt I bought fit just fine except for the collar, which was so tight, my face turned the colour of an over-ripe tomato, my teeth fell asleep and all my eyelashes fell out.
The jeans were no better. When I found a pair that fit it in waistline, they were so big everywhere else, there was enough fabric left over to make a cover for my car. The pair that fit everywhere else was so tight in the waistline I could only do one of two things; either wear the jeans or breathe. I could not do both.
The pullover sweater was probably the worst. After a terrible struggle and the help of two salesmen, I finally got the sweater pulled over my head when I noticed that my neck disappeared and the arms of the sweater dragged on the floor. One of the salesmen borrowed a scissors and cut the sweater off of me.
After trying on thirty-eight pairs of shoes, I settled on a pair of boots that cut off the circulation to my toes and turned them all the same colours of a Japanese fan. My toes bore an uncanny resemblance to an explosion in a paint factory. When I first looked at the boots, I said to the salesman; “Sir, believe me, I don’t have a toe I know of that goes into a point like that.” When I returned home, I discovered that the pair of socks I bought was mismatched. One of them came up over my knee and the other just barely covered my ankle. They were also two different colours. At least, they matched the colours of my toes.
I sat down at the kitchen table and called my sister on the phone. When I told her that I was on a mission to expose the clothing designers and manufacturers who have been plotting against me, she said that with the proper medication and a thousand volts a day, I should be fine in a few months. When I asked her if thought my eyelashes would grow back, she hung up on me
- - - - - - -
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved
The next column will be posted on September 05, 2009
File #RBCOL11
by Melech
Did you ever wonder who designs your clothes? I do, and I have come to the conclusion that everything I buy was designed by the criminally insane with a grudge against the human race. Even the label that says; “Inspected by Number…” is no help because as soon as you are close to finding out who it is, they change their number and move to another city. I can’t prove any of this yet, but I think I’m on to something.
The shirt I bought fit just fine except for the collar, which was so tight, my face turned the colour of an over-ripe tomato, my teeth fell asleep and all my eyelashes fell out.
The jeans were no better. When I found a pair that fit it in waistline, they were so big everywhere else, there was enough fabric left over to make a cover for my car. The pair that fit everywhere else was so tight in the waistline I could only do one of two things; either wear the jeans or breathe. I could not do both.
The pullover sweater was probably the worst. After a terrible struggle and the help of two salesmen, I finally got the sweater pulled over my head when I noticed that my neck disappeared and the arms of the sweater dragged on the floor. One of the salesmen borrowed a scissors and cut the sweater off of me.
After trying on thirty-eight pairs of shoes, I settled on a pair of boots that cut off the circulation to my toes and turned them all the same colours of a Japanese fan. My toes bore an uncanny resemblance to an explosion in a paint factory. When I first looked at the boots, I said to the salesman; “Sir, believe me, I don’t have a toe I know of that goes into a point like that.” When I returned home, I discovered that the pair of socks I bought was mismatched. One of them came up over my knee and the other just barely covered my ankle. They were also two different colours. At least, they matched the colours of my toes.
I sat down at the kitchen table and called my sister on the phone. When I told her that I was on a mission to expose the clothing designers and manufacturers who have been plotting against me, she said that with the proper medication and a thousand volts a day, I should be fine in a few months. When I asked her if thought my eyelashes would grow back, she hung up on me
- - - - - - -
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved
The next column will be posted on September 05, 2009
File #RBCOL11
Friday, August 21, 2009
"Did you ever...?" (Refund & Exchange Policy)
Did you ever…?
by Melech
Did you ever wonder if the refund and exchange policy in some stores was designed to drive you to homicide?
The other day, after I finished painting the spare bedroom in my house, I went to a nearby department store to buy new drapes for the windows. When I brought them home and put them up on the curtain rods, there was something about them that didn't look right. I called my sister and asked her if she would look at them. She came over right away, took one look at them and told me that the colour was all wrong for the colour that I had painted the room. I asked her if she thought I could just make them do. She said “yes”, but only if I would finally admit that I suffered from colour dementia.
About an hour later, I was standing at the customer service desk with the drapes. The woman working behind the desk either hated her job or the entire human race or possibly both. I told her I wanted to exchange the drapes.
“No refunds or exchanges without a receipt!” she snapped.
When I handed her the receipt she said, “How do I know these drapes are from this store?”
“Your store’s name is on the receipt.” I replied.
“Well, what’s wrong with the drapes?”
“The colour isn’t right.”
“The colour looks fine to me. It’s a very nice colour.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “It’s a very nice colour and I like it, but…”
“If you like the colour, then why do you want to exchange it?”
I explained to her that although it was a very nice colour, it did not go with the colour I painted the room.
“Why don’t you just re-paint the room?” she asked. “Then you can keep the drapes and save me a lot of time and paperwork.”
“I don’t want to re-paint the room. I just finished painting it two days ago.” I explained.
She became very indignant, fixed me with a piercing look that would have paralyzed the average Bengal tiger, and said; “So now you want to blame me because you painted your room the wrong colour! Besides that, I can’t take those drapes back now because you just chewed a hole right through one of them!”
I returned home with the drapes, hung them up and because I don’t know how to sew, I patched the hole with duct tape. Later that day, my sister came over and asked why I had the same drapes and why there was duct tape on them. I explained that the tape was there to patch up the hole.
“How did they get a hole in them?” she asked.
“Well, it all started when the lady at the service desk hollered at me for painting the room the wrong colour and refusing to re-paint. I didn’t realise that I was chewing on the drapes.”
“Stop!” she said. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m either getting a headache or I’m having a stroke.”
When I asked her if she thought I should have used a hot glue gun or staples instead of duct tape, she walked out without saying “good-bye”.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on August 28, 2009
File#RBCOL47
by Melech
Did you ever wonder if the refund and exchange policy in some stores was designed to drive you to homicide?
The other day, after I finished painting the spare bedroom in my house, I went to a nearby department store to buy new drapes for the windows. When I brought them home and put them up on the curtain rods, there was something about them that didn't look right. I called my sister and asked her if she would look at them. She came over right away, took one look at them and told me that the colour was all wrong for the colour that I had painted the room. I asked her if she thought I could just make them do. She said “yes”, but only if I would finally admit that I suffered from colour dementia.
About an hour later, I was standing at the customer service desk with the drapes. The woman working behind the desk either hated her job or the entire human race or possibly both. I told her I wanted to exchange the drapes.
“No refunds or exchanges without a receipt!” she snapped.
When I handed her the receipt she said, “How do I know these drapes are from this store?”
“Your store’s name is on the receipt.” I replied.
“Well, what’s wrong with the drapes?”
“The colour isn’t right.”
“The colour looks fine to me. It’s a very nice colour.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “It’s a very nice colour and I like it, but…”
“If you like the colour, then why do you want to exchange it?”
I explained to her that although it was a very nice colour, it did not go with the colour I painted the room.
“Why don’t you just re-paint the room?” she asked. “Then you can keep the drapes and save me a lot of time and paperwork.”
“I don’t want to re-paint the room. I just finished painting it two days ago.” I explained.
She became very indignant, fixed me with a piercing look that would have paralyzed the average Bengal tiger, and said; “So now you want to blame me because you painted your room the wrong colour! Besides that, I can’t take those drapes back now because you just chewed a hole right through one of them!”
I returned home with the drapes, hung them up and because I don’t know how to sew, I patched the hole with duct tape. Later that day, my sister came over and asked why I had the same drapes and why there was duct tape on them. I explained that the tape was there to patch up the hole.
“How did they get a hole in them?” she asked.
“Well, it all started when the lady at the service desk hollered at me for painting the room the wrong colour and refusing to re-paint. I didn’t realise that I was chewing on the drapes.”
“Stop!” she said. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m either getting a headache or I’m having a stroke.”
When I asked her if she thought I should have used a hot glue gun or staples instead of duct tape, she walked out without saying “good-bye”.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©Copyright 2009 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on August 28, 2009
File#RBCOL47
Friday, August 14, 2009
"Did you ever...?" (The Horoscope)
“Did you ever…?”
by Melech
Did you ever wonder about the Horoscope, and how some people let it completely control their lives? Even though he says he just does it for fun, my neighbour, Mark, will not make any major or minor decisions without first consulting a multitude of charts. When Susan, Mark’s wife, asked him to move some boxes from the cellar out to the garage, Mark said that he had consulted his Horoscope and that Sagittarius was in direct conflict with Scorpio, which clearly indicated that he should not do any physical labour. Susan informed him that if the boxes were not moved straightaway, her skillet was about to come in direct conflict with his head.
I should have been suspicious of the validity of Astrology in general, when my neighbour, Bing (no relation to Crosby), asked me to read his Horoscope to him. He said he couldn’t do it himself because just the other day, his Horoscope had warned him not to do any reading for at least two weeks. I asked him what “sign” he was. “Leo”, he replied. After I finished reading, Bing said: “See? I told you! That is really me. That stuff is all real”. “Is it?” I said; “I just read Aquarius.”
As he was walking out of my house, he said that if I ever did anything like that again, he would braid my lips.
The Horoscope only held my interest for a very short time. The Astrological signs before and after mine always said great things like: “Today is your day! You will find success, fortune and romance.” My Horoscope always read like a prophecy of doom. For example, yesterday, I was finally going to clean out the refrigerator and throw away all the leftovers. Then I remembered that my Horoscope had warned me to avoid the colours blue and green. I slammed the refrigerator door shut and decided to make a phone call instead. Only then did I remember that the other warning was to avoid conversations with someone who might betray me. I didn’t know who that could be, so I didn’t speak to anyone the entire day. No point in taking chances
Today, my Horoscope looked a little more promising, as it advised me that if I engaged in outdoor activities, I would feel refreshed, rejuvenated, and that the day would hold many surprises for me.
It was a beautiful, calm, sunny day when I went outside to cut the lawn. After about 30 or 40 attempts, the lawnmower started right up, and so did the rain. Actually, it was more like a minor monsoon. As I was putting the lawnmower away, a man ran by and assured me that this sort of thing never happened in his hometown. I wanted to shoot him for that helpful bit of information.
The storm continued with such force, I was seriously considering building an Arc and lining up animals in pairs, when just as suddenly, it stopped and the sun came out again. The front and back yards were flooded, but even if they weren’t, the lawnmower will probably not dry out until next summer. So much for outdoor activities.
When my sister informed me that Jack the Ripper, Norman Bates, and thirty-eight inmates on death row all share my Zodiac sign, I asked her how I could ever be expected to get excited over the Horoscope again. I also told her that I had arrived at the conclusion that the real problem is, that by the time I was born, all the good Astrological signs had been given away. I just know that if my mother could have held out a little longer (maybe two or three months), I might have gotten a better sign. I told her that I don’t have any real proof of this yet, but that I strongly suspect that whilst I am sleeping, all my planets and stars get together, hold a big meeting, and plot against me. My sister told me that I sounded like a “case history” on paranoia, and she hung up on me.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©2008 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on August 21, 2009
File #RBCOL08
by Melech
Did you ever wonder about the Horoscope, and how some people let it completely control their lives? Even though he says he just does it for fun, my neighbour, Mark, will not make any major or minor decisions without first consulting a multitude of charts. When Susan, Mark’s wife, asked him to move some boxes from the cellar out to the garage, Mark said that he had consulted his Horoscope and that Sagittarius was in direct conflict with Scorpio, which clearly indicated that he should not do any physical labour. Susan informed him that if the boxes were not moved straightaway, her skillet was about to come in direct conflict with his head.
I should have been suspicious of the validity of Astrology in general, when my neighbour, Bing (no relation to Crosby), asked me to read his Horoscope to him. He said he couldn’t do it himself because just the other day, his Horoscope had warned him not to do any reading for at least two weeks. I asked him what “sign” he was. “Leo”, he replied. After I finished reading, Bing said: “See? I told you! That is really me. That stuff is all real”. “Is it?” I said; “I just read Aquarius.”
As he was walking out of my house, he said that if I ever did anything like that again, he would braid my lips.
The Horoscope only held my interest for a very short time. The Astrological signs before and after mine always said great things like: “Today is your day! You will find success, fortune and romance.” My Horoscope always read like a prophecy of doom. For example, yesterday, I was finally going to clean out the refrigerator and throw away all the leftovers. Then I remembered that my Horoscope had warned me to avoid the colours blue and green. I slammed the refrigerator door shut and decided to make a phone call instead. Only then did I remember that the other warning was to avoid conversations with someone who might betray me. I didn’t know who that could be, so I didn’t speak to anyone the entire day. No point in taking chances
Today, my Horoscope looked a little more promising, as it advised me that if I engaged in outdoor activities, I would feel refreshed, rejuvenated, and that the day would hold many surprises for me.
It was a beautiful, calm, sunny day when I went outside to cut the lawn. After about 30 or 40 attempts, the lawnmower started right up, and so did the rain. Actually, it was more like a minor monsoon. As I was putting the lawnmower away, a man ran by and assured me that this sort of thing never happened in his hometown. I wanted to shoot him for that helpful bit of information.
The storm continued with such force, I was seriously considering building an Arc and lining up animals in pairs, when just as suddenly, it stopped and the sun came out again. The front and back yards were flooded, but even if they weren’t, the lawnmower will probably not dry out until next summer. So much for outdoor activities.
When my sister informed me that Jack the Ripper, Norman Bates, and thirty-eight inmates on death row all share my Zodiac sign, I asked her how I could ever be expected to get excited over the Horoscope again. I also told her that I had arrived at the conclusion that the real problem is, that by the time I was born, all the good Astrological signs had been given away. I just know that if my mother could have held out a little longer (maybe two or three months), I might have gotten a better sign. I told her that I don’t have any real proof of this yet, but that I strongly suspect that whilst I am sleeping, all my planets and stars get together, hold a big meeting, and plot against me. My sister told me that I sounded like a “case history” on paranoia, and she hung up on me.
“Did you ever…?” is a weekly newspaper column by Melech
©2008 by Melech. All rights reserved.
The next column will be posted on August 21, 2009
File #RBCOL08
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