On Moving&UPS&Comcast&self-install-kit&freeHBO

I moved last month on what I guess were the two highest heat index days ever or some such thing. Two weeks later I recovered and—what with Gopher sports coming up and a general need for TCM—I went online to sign up for cable. That was August 16. On August 18 I received an email with a tracking number and a promise that my self-install-kit would arrive in 3-5 business days. I stayed home the next Monday and Tuesday, and on Wednesday found three notices (1st, 2nd and final) saying they had tried and failed to deliver the package. Where the first two notices were for those two days I have no idea.

On August 25 I called UPS and was told it had been returned to Comcast. I called Comcast and was told: "I'm putting the new order in right now and you should receive it in 3-5 business days. Five business days later, I called Comcast and was told that order wasn't put in until August 29, and I should receive my self-install-kit in 3-5 business days. Five business days later I called and said not only hasn't my kit been delivered but I've never even received the tracking number. The woman's computer conveniently shut down at this moment and she came back ten minutes later to tell me that that order had somehow never gone through. She told me that her boss had just put a new order in and I should receive my self-install-kit in 3-5 business days.

"Could you change the address to my work address?" I asked. She told me it was too late. I mentioned the order had just been put in. Sorry.

"Could you make that over-night delivery, at your expense, for my trouble?" Sorry, it's too late. Again, the order is five minutes old.

"Could you come to one of our offices and pick it up?" she asked. I guess I hadn't been inconvenienced enough. All this to see some lousy local sports and a Sterling Hayden movie now and then.

Yesterday (September 7, for those keeping score at home), I picked up my self-install-kit and today I found that it was missing its instructions. I went online and, finding nothing, hooked it up myself. I went to the Comcast Activation site, which assured me that everything was hooked up properly and the activation was successful. My tv says different. It says I'm receiving no signal. Did I tell you they gave me three months of HBO and Starz free for my trouble? I can only wonder what those channels are like...

On Moving

Last week I started calling around to the utilities to let them know I was moving and ask if they could switch my service to my new address on August 1. I called Xcel Energy, Qwest (soon-to-be-whatever-it's-changing-to-next) and Mpls Wi-Fi.

That was Thursday. Friday morning I got caught in a good-sized rain as I came home from the dentist. I dried myself off, sat down at the computer and found that my internet didn't work. I called they Wi-Fi people and they said THE STORM had knocked out my node. Now, I did get good and wet but we've had ten storms worse than that this year and my node had survived. Saturday, still no internet ('cept what I could steal from the bar across the street) and I called again. THE STORM, they said. Can't you point me to another node? I asked. THE STORM took out six nodes in the Uptown area, they said. Same story on Sunday: THE STORM.

Monday I went to call again, as I still had no internet, but my phone didn't work. Went to the library downtown to use the internet—couldn't steal a signal from the bar—and then stopped at the post office for a change of address card. Found one that said I could do it on-line (when and if I got service again), stuck it in my bag and went to work. Called Qwest from work about my phone. Somehow my request to switch my service on Monday, Aug 1 was translated into: shut it off Mon, July 18 and start it up again Aug 1. (July 18 was never even in the equation...)

Sometime Monday evening Mpls Wi-Fi recovered from THE STORM and I quickly typed my new address into the USPS on-line form and clicked "Submit." Another page appeared asking for my credit card info and $19.99 for processing and "privacy protection." The post office is now collecting protection money? I'll take my chances with the free card through the mail.

So my moving date is still two weeks away and I have yet to pack a box, but I'm thinking: this little dump of an apartment isn't so bad, really. Then I think: imagine the headaches involved in an unchange of address.

On Remembering Bart (Buck) Hazlett

Bart (Buck) Hazlett died Friday along with two of his children in a two-car, head-on collision out in someplace called Lindstrom. I last talked at length with Buck at a benefit for his brother Kevin, some months ago. I noticed him leave the stage after a brief Van Hazlett reunion; he had a cane and dragged that leg of his that used to sport a large brace back when he was a kid. I made my way through the crowd to ask him about it. He called me Billy (all the Hazletts call me Billy, how do they get away with that?) and said he'd had some sort of relapse with the hip. I mentioned that it didn't seem to have affected his drumming and he said it'd been some twenty years since he'd been behind a drum kit. I was shocked; it seemed like I'd been watching him play drums all through the years. We talked of his brother's cancer. A discussion on health insurance was interrupted often as he stopped to point out which kids running by were his. They seemed to be everywhere.

Buck, you are missed. My heart goes out to your wonderful family...

On Neighborhood Beatings

Over the last week there have been four beating/robberies in my neighborhood; the closest being two blocks either side of Lake Street. There may have been more, I haven't checked the news today. It's always the same: three or four cowards jump an unsuspecting passerby and pummeling him senseless and—if they think about—steal whatever he's got. It's more about beating than robbing. Their last victim turned out to be a 61-year-old, ex-Marine with a gun. They beat him pretty bad but he got off a few shots. Reports say he may have "winged" one of them. Let's hope.

The crimes have taken place between 11:30 pm and 2 am. I leave work every night at midnight and make my walk from Lake Calhoun, up Lake Street to Lyndale. I am safe. Even these thugs aren't stupid enough to do their dirty work on such a well-lit, highly policed strip. Cowards prefer to do their cowering in the dark and, by nature, fear the authorities.

It used to be a very pleasant walk; a good way to unwind after a long night of watching tv at work. Now—instead of working out a troublesome scene from a story or fantasizing about a promising email from a magazine or agent awaiting me at home—I find myself watching for people heading off toward 31st or crossing Lagoon and worrying about their fate. Instead of chuckling at the partiers stumbling around Lake and Hennepin, I wonder which ones are gonna be foolish enough to venture off on foot. Jump in a cab! I wanna yell.

I'd rather the police get 'em before some vigilante. Let 'em take their own beating (and worse) in prison.

(I guess this means I'm gonna have to be more diligent in my blog posting, lest my two followers worry that something bad has happened to me.)

On Remembering Kevin Foley

While attending last week's benefit for my friend Kevin Hazlett, the first person I happened upon as I entered Bunker's was Kevin Foley. We hugged and I mentioned how we only see each other anymore at the worst of times, referring to our last meeting, a couple of summers past, at the funeral for his brother Steve. We laughed this off. What else do you do?

My first distinct memory of Kevin has him driving his motorbike through the halls of our high school. There are many vague memories before and after. The other night he brought up the old days at the Longhorn. It wasn't like Kevin and I ever made plans or anything, we just always ended up at the same show or party or stumbled into Lyle's or the CC Club at the same time. I always made a point to take in Routine 11 shows, if only to hear Kevin belt out Rockpile's "Teacher, Teacher." Or was that Swingset? The bands run together... Facebook provided me today with this video of a rather drunken lament to his brother's passing during a Curtiss A Beatle's show.

Facebook also provided me today with news that Kevin Foley had died in his sleep two nights ago. First Steve, now Kevin; my heart goes out to the Foley family and all my friends who are their friends. So long, Kev... It was wonderful while it lasted, though not nearly long enough. Say 'hi' to Steve for all of us.

On Meeting Kevin Hazlett

First met Kevin Hazlett, I guess, when I was just a kid. It was probably playing "Fenway Park" at the Sweeney house in Interlachen Park, in Hopkins. I played Little League with the Sweeney family and spent most of my summer days at their house, which meant running all over the neighborhood to the Carr's, to the Sawyer's, to the Hazlett's. My family always seemed to be seated within screwing around distance of the Hazletts in church.

By 1982, Kevin was living in New York and I was hitchhiking across the country (lived in San Jose, CA at the time) to a writers' workshop in Vermont. Kevin was gracious enough to let me sleep on his couch for a week. I vaguely recall a lot of 4am nights, a subway turnstile jump (my bad), and spending a lot of time walking the streets, handing out free tickets to a gig his band was playing toward the end of my stay. That night ended with a drunken saxophone player behind the wheel and me in the back of a flatbed truck, trying desperately to keep their gear—and myself—from spilling out into the street.

It was 1991, I guess, when Kevin asked to join a basement band I was in. I didn't flatter myself that he wanted to play my songs; we had a great bass player sitting in with us while between bands and that was the obvious attraction. The basement got sold and Kevin got Steve Foley to let us use the Replacements' practice space while they were on tour. We got a real drummer. And a gig. The gig ended when the police showed up as I was doing the "testing, testing" thing into the mike. That's my rock star story.

Tonight I go to a benefit for Kevin. Cancer, 'nough said. There will be great music and really lousy jokes. I look forward to it.

On Progress

Relatively good news for both my followers (and any stoppers-by): Googled my name this morning and this website actually came up! Twice. Website, story, Facebook, 'nother story, LinkedIn and website again. Now that's progress! (Special thanks to Margaret and Fluffy for their help with them META Tags.)

More progress, I guess: Got another query for No Happier State rejected last night, but she "copied" a colleague who she thought might be interested. A wonderful thing for her to do and would be very promising if the same colleague hadn't already rejected it last summer...