update on stuffs
Music: Jerry Garcia Band: Don't Let Go (1976)
Owing to the surprising smashing discussion on Sunday's diversion on "magical voluntarism," and the wee bit of progress I made on the essay yesterday, I had hoped to post part II of that paper on the blog today. Alas, fans and shit have collided yet again, and so this day shall be consumed by waiting on various others to repair and fix and dry. Since I'm sitting here waiting on the third visit from the plumber, I thought I'd update the three of you who have been following the home repair saga (as well as other hanging threads).
Cosmo Update
Cosmo the Super Rescue Kitty returned to his new adoptive parents' home on Saturday after a stint in the kitty hospital. Since that time, he has been eating his prescribed diet of chicken and green peas without vomiting, and making good doodie, so it appears he is very much on the mend. He has "Inflammatory Bowel Disease," a chronic problem but one that can be managed with diet. Hooray (thanks for those of you who offered a prayer or sacrificed a goat)! His new family takes really good care of them, and this incident helped to create on of those bonds—you know, the sick animal gets better bond. I'm relieved and also thrilled he's found such a loving home.
Image Rights with Apple Inc.
Some of y'all may recall Mirko has an acceptance for our iPod essay (yay!) pending minor revisions. We made all the revisions over two weeks ago. The last task was to get permissions for the images we want to reprint. I thought I had the rights before we submitted the essay for the second round, but apparently I talked to the wrong person at Apple Inc. The image of the iPod vibrator was approved by its maker, as was the Jesus on the cross with an iPod image (a shout-out to Tim Hall on this: thanks!). The final image is one of those silhouette iPod print ads circa 2004. So I call the iPod press rep for a week, she doesn't answer. The second week she does answer, but will not give me a straight answer: she keeps saying "all that is available to the press are images of the product." Does that mean I cannot use this specific image? No answer. Finally after this woman does not call or email me back for a couple of days more (nor did her superior, the vice-superior, or the legal department at Apple), I call the 1-800 number and explain to the operator my problem. She puts me in contact with Sue Carroll, who handles rights and permissions for the whole company, not just the iPod. Sue is awesome, she speaks directly with me, apologizes for the trouble with the other people, and gets on it. Three days pass and she emails me to say Apple approves, but she's waiting to hear from the ad agency, Media Arts Lab, to see if there are any rights issues on their end. Two more days pass: yes, I need talent clearances from the photographer and model (basically, I need their blessing), and I have a PDF contract agreement. Call the model's agency, no one returns my call. Call the photographer's studio. No one returns my call. The next day I call model agency again, get a guy who says I need to speak with the model's rep, who has moved to New York. I call her in New York, she wants a copy of the agreement. I email that to the rep, and here we are four days later: haven't heard from the rep. Haven't heard from the photographer. Meanwhile, I send the agreement to the editor, who sends it on to Taylor & Francis. T&F has a problem with the agreement, since it precludes their selling our essay to someone for a textbook or something, and has a few questions for Apple. Apple responds that they have no problem with the downloadable versions of the essay in www.informaworld.com, nor do they have any fees for us. They just want T&F to check with them if they decide to sell the essay to another publisher for a book or something (a practice that apparently T&F does, but I didn't know this). So now the editor and I are waiting to hear back from T&F . . . who will probably say "no thanks," which means over two weeks of work on permissions was all for nothing, and that I'll have to re-write a section of the essay that refers to this specific image.
The moral to this story: if you want to reprint an image from Apple Inc. and [ooh, plumber just called, they are on the way] . . oh, as I was typing, if you want to reprint an image from Apple Inc. for a Taylor & Francis journal, save yourself a lot of work and get with Nancy Reagan: JUST . . . SAY . . . NO THANKS!
Niagra Falls in my Walls
Last I left you, gentle reader, the moldy wall in my house and in my neighbor's house were taped up with plastic and painter's tape to "contain" the mold. Last Thursday a "mold hygenicist" came out to survey the situation and develop some "protocols for abatement." He said he would call the contractor and verbally tell him what's up so that work could begin, but that the report would take a week. The contractor said he'd call me Thursday afternoon or Friday and tell me what the schedule would be. He did not call.
On Monday I called the contractor, left him a polite but direct message (e.g., "if you're too busy to do the job, I have two other companies that were recommended"). He called back within an hour, said that before he could begin we needed another expert---an asbestos person---to come out and test for that, and if things were fine, we'd rendezvous on Wednesday night for a key drop-off, and work would begin this morning. Of course, the contractor never called back yesterday, after I left two messages for him. Last night he called, apologized, said he was in a 9-hour training meeting and so on. I said twice not following through was a red flag for me, and then proceeded to give him a piece of my, you know, mind and stuff. After he assured me he would follow through, we agreed folks would begin today at 9:30 a.m.
On of the remediation folks was here at 9:30 a.m., a real nice guy named John. We talked about what more I should move around and so forth, where the retainer wall would go, and so forth. Then we went to Kay's, where we discovered the carpet was soaking wet.
"Holy Fuck!" I exclaim. "Oh, sorry Ms. Kay---my mouth sometimes opens before the censors can turn on." There is a leak somewhere, for certain. He looks around Kay's walls with a moisture meter, but we find nothing. We go to my place. High moisture. We look where the original problem was: what ho! It's gushing like crazy. There is a lot of sitting water in the wall itself. The HOA plumber who supposedly fixed the problem did not fix the problem!
Now technically, my warranty should cover the plumber, but you'll recall my plumber refused and so the HOA plumber came out. The HOA was to bill me for their plumber. We decide that the HOA plumber should probably repair this for free, since he didn't do right the first time, instead of call my warranty plumber. And so, here I wait: they called to say he was on the way, but that was fifteen minutes ago.
Regardless, what this means is that construction and remediation is probably delayed another two weeks. Now we have to suck the water out, dehumidify and get Kay's carpet cleaned and dried again. That will take 1.5 weeks, gauging on how much wetter things are now at this stage. Then they will build the retainer wall. Then abatement. Then a week to dry out. Then rebuilding.
And My State of Mind?
Last week, near the end of the week, I remember telling Brooke I felt "defeated." A session with the shrink on Tuesday helped. I am not feeling defeated today. I'm just sort of . . . numb. There really is no sense in getting upset, there's nothing I can do about this stuff but wait and try to keep busy. I'm supposed to meet up with Dale for our bi-weekly grouse and brainstorm session over Jameson whiskey and Lone Star. If I can just keep that appointment today, I will consider this Thursday a triumph. With luck and a little dedication, I can resume the discussion about rhetoric and agency.