domestic bliss

United we stand

Read United Hell to understand the context of this entry.  I imagine it is still practically impossible to get someone from United on the phone.  But after we called our credit card company to see if we could get a refund for our, up to that point, cancelled tickets, only to find out that we could not; the credit card company gave us a phone number for United Airlines that enabled us to talk to a human being after only a 90 minute wait. 

When, after a whole day of trying, we actually connected to a person, we were able to get re-routed on different flights and make it to our international connection.  There were some funky glitches all along the way that were quickly and efficiently resolved by the personnel manning the various gates we had to go through.  The trip was easy, efficient, mostly on time, and the service was great.  

Maybe after United resolves the problems caused by the merger with Continental and the integration of both systems, it might end up being a decent airline after all.  I was pleasantly surprised! 

United Hell

My husband and I were scheduled to fly Continental from GSP South Carolina to GVA Switzerland through Newark tomorrow. Unfortunately, between the time we bought our tickets and now Continental merged with the worse airline on earth: United.

We confirmed our flight this morning; and not two hours later, a United computer called to tell us that the first leg of our flight had been cancelled making it impossible to catch the second leg.  The computer left us a number to call and apologized for our inconvenience.

As far as I can tell, in order to save money during the merger, United fired ALL its and Continental's employee's, for no one ever picks up the phone.  The other night we stayed on the phone for three hours to change our seats, which we never did because no one ever picked up. We read on the internet that people have stayed up to 12 hours on the phone to no avail; and that even travel agents had trouble getting through.

At the moment, we've pretty much lost our flights.  Mercifully we paid by credit card and will contest, and moreover, we got insurance. Getting money back from United would probably involve talking to a person; and it has been established that that is not an option.

I will go around the world to get somewhere before I ever fly United (not again because I've never done it).  United's behavior is extreme; unfortunately, it is endemic to the world we have created for ourselves.  Bring back regulation, this little experiment in "free market flying" has failed miserably: it's not free, it's not market determined, it's not profitable and it's obviously not flying.

Addendum: we can't get money from credit card because we bought the tickets more than 6 months ago- that will teach me to think ahead.  And the insurance does not cover "airline f--- you in the ass" reasons, only weather cancellations which this wasn't.  Ahhh, bend over and fly the friendly skies...  ... as I type I am back waiting on the phone at united where their recording is telling me how wonderful and eco-friendly and omnipresent they are...


more: --- am (maybe) in line to talk to someone- the recording keeps telling me over and over how they are spending billions of dollars being eco-friendly, improving their carriers etc.  What they need is to spend money and re-hire all the people they fired to save money so someone can answer the fucking phone...

... oh fleeting miracle:  someone with an Hispanic accent  just said “hi” - I explained my problem and he told me he would transfer me to the correct person- I asked how long it would take for someone to answer, he said “not long”---

Well I am back in the loop and the computer said “more than 30 minutes wait”...  Last time it said “25 minutes” and it took 53--- seriously don’t fly them ever; though even if you try, chances are you won't...  


more more: finally got through!  and they actually re-routed us--- the United Representative was actually great...  ... ok, my anger is dissipating.... 

Again: Words Have Lost All Meaning

I quote from the radio news:

Ahead, a report about what American troops are doing to protect themselves from their Afghan allies.

Remind me again what the word "ally" means...

Addendum 2 days later: American soldier (or soldiers, depending on who one wants to believe) kills 16 Afghani "civilians"...  

I guess that's one way of protecting oneself when one no longer can see who the enemy (or ally, if you will) is.

It is definitely time to get out of Afghanistan.

Reason in the Wilderness

about Iran  (click link to listen to the voice of reason)

Too bad reason does not reign anywhere these days.... if ever...

a day in a life

The town I live in is…well…pleasant enough though not much of anything.  One of those rather limited college towns with surprisingly few (multi)cultural amenities and no restaurants to speak of.  It is also, due to its mild winters, a retirement community; a fact of which I am physically made aware every time I go swimming and have to pant my way through a workout because the pool is kept at a minimum of 83 degrees to avoid complaints from the “retired” who fool themselves into thinking they are doing water aerobics when in fact they basically loll around draped over foam tubes jabbering to each other.  But I digress…

As I was walking out of the gym the other day, an older gentleman asked me if I knew anyone from The Downs.  At this point, one unfamiliar with it might wonder what exactly is The Downs.  No, it is not a race track as the name could indicate, but one of the many retirement habitations around here.  That being said, every time I see the sign, yes, I smile, riff on the name, and wonder who on earth thought it was a good idea to name a retirement community The Downs.   

Like I said, the gentleman asked me if I knew someone from The Downs...  I told him that I didn’t and asked him if he needed a ride; and that if so, I would gladly take him if he didn’t mind my filthy and cramped car.  He said he didn’t, told me his name, made a pun about mine, and off we walked into the midday sun.  As soon as I opened my car door, I remembered that I had forgotten about the plastic magnetic penis poking out of my dashboard.  One might wonder why it’s there.  The short story is that a friend had it hanging off of his refrigerator and gave it to me when he and his wife had their first child and he decided he had to become an adult.  Having no children of my own, I feel no such compunction.  The long story is why he chose me to give it to…  And there it was, my pink plastic penis staring at the nice southern gentlemen I had just offered a ride to. Oh well, by then it was too late to remove it, so off we all went….

I had also forgotten that I wanted to get gas on the way home because my gas gauge was acting unpredictably; and as I drove off, I noticed its needle was on empty and asked the gentleman if he didn’t mind my stopping at the gas station on the way to The Downs.  He said no problem.  And as I was getting out of the car to “fill ‘er up”, though clearly my car is a “he”, I saw the gentleman taking out his wallet from his back pocket...  I filled up the car and off again we went, this time straight for The Downs.  We made small talk, I found out where he was from, about his daughter and her husband, and also how much it costs to rent an apartment at The Downs.  I asked him about that in case, one day, after having failed to put a bullet through my head, I had to choose to live in a retirement community. I am not, as it were, putting down The Downs and firmly do believe in "à chacun son gout", it's just not mon gout.  But I digress once more...

Without further incident we arrived at his apartment complex.  As he was thanking me and getting out of the car, he told me he had had a car once until his daughter made him stop driving it, and that he knew it took money to maintain them.  And indeed if you took a look at my car and at the tattered way I dress around here (plus, of course, the plastic penis sticking out of the dashboard: a clear indication of instability), you would think I am in serious need of money to maintain it and myself, though he did not say so.  What he did say was that he had left me a little something in the compartment next to the penis.  Okay, he did not say that either; but that's where he left me two bucks which I tried mighty hard to give back to him.  He refused to take the money back and wished me a Godly day.  And off I went to have one.

one awesome review

An awesome review by David Joselit of Carsten Höller’s show at the New Museum.  Work whose premise I have questioned since reading about it years ago.  Not only do I agree with Joselit's view, I also find the whole thing so very dated.

I was a teenager in the 70’s in São Paulo, when/where I used to attend the Bienais when they came to town (bienais: Portuguese plural for Biannual).  Biannuals still carry an air of the carnivalesque, but these days the funhouse atmosphere is infused with all kinds of sociological baggage, if not always apparent in the actual art work, then in its explanation, contextualization, and coverage.  As a teenager, I did not pay attention to the “coverage”; and maybe my memory has embellished things with time, but those old bienais were a lot of fun. They were all about sensation and perception.  The exhibits felt like wondrous funhouses, especially for a teenager just starting to experiment with life and art.

I do like Joselit's "whole picture" approach to interpreting his experience at the New Museum, even if the work is not at all about that.  Again, to me Höller’s work just feels, well, dated, tired, rehashed, distanced, cold, out of place and time.  If one were to happen upon it haphazardly while walking down a street (certainly an impossibility in our litigious world), maybe then, the encounter might actually become an experience that somehow puts something about perception in perspective… though partaking in psychedelics might get you there faster and without having to sign a legal waiver …

disclaimer: I am advocating neither.

Read the review soon before the link disappears at the end of the month.