Monday, 12 April 2004
Trick or Treat - Gimme Peeps!
This weekend was Easter weekend, with today being a holiday in France. And if the French deem it necessary to require time off after a day of feasting, who am I to argue?
My friend, Ivan, again invited me to his mother's place for Easter dinner. This is the fourth year in a row that I've taken part of this family meal. Easter in France is akin to Thanksgiving in the U.S. in the pantheon of family gatherings, so to say that I'm grateful to be included is the least of it.
This is the first year that I arrived with "respectably short" hair. The change gave us a chance to laugh at the first time that I dropped by for dinner, three years ago.
Picture this: I arrive at Ivan's mom's place for Sunday dinner. He greets me at the door, and introduces me to his mother. Who proceeds to take a short, startled breath.
Ah, well, I figure. A typically conservative French reaction to the tall American, with his long hair and a beard, stepping through her front door. I had taken the time to be presentable - carefully trimming my beard and dressing nicely - but I guess there are some things that don't change.
Then it hits me about the same time that Ivan started laughing - just why it's a big deal, on this day in particular.
"It's Easter Sunday," he tells his mother as she gathers her composure. "So I invited Jesus!"
Tuesday, 13 April 2004
Maybe I Was Talking to the Farmer
I just got off the phone with Dell's support merdique. Almost fifty minutes, at 15 (euro) cents a minute [1] spent justifying why they needed to fix a problem with my putain de keyboard - a problem, I might add, that existed since soon after I bought my portable a year ago.
My troubles stem from poor design, and the company recognized the problem and fixed it a little over two months after I took delivery of my Inspiron. Not that they retroactively fixed computers unless you complained, of course. Bah, "Inspiron" - at times, the only thing it "inspirons" me to do is cram it down Dell's collective throat.
Dell is fine for price/performance evaluations, but don't ever consider them a reliable source for quality equipment. Their whole business model is based on zero stock and quick turnaround. Theoretically, that means you get a custom-built computer. What it really means is that they have little incentive to ship you a computer that conforms to your order - or even a working one. All they have to do is keep shipping by some chance you get what you ordered.
The computer I'm typing this on is in fact the replacement for one that was dead-on-arrival - but even the replacement was missing options that I'd specified and paid for. I also bought a three-year, next-day one-site warranty, for all the good it does me: they won't do on-site repairs unless they deem it necessary.
This brings me back to the keyboard. I have a (supposedly) no-haggle warranty, I have defective equipment (besides the overall wobble problem, my space bar is no longer responsive). I was so worn out with the month-long support process surrounding my initial order that I didn't feel like dealing with my keyboard until now. But why I waited almost a year is my own business; theirs is simply to fix my problem per the terms of my service contract.
Doing things on their terms, I had to open up my own machine over the phone, confirm that indeed there are screws missing in my computer (which goes for the company as a whole) and wait several eternities on hold as I hope that they'll do something about it. All this on my dime, of course.
The service guy accidentally hung up on me, but at least called me back. Now I'm waiting for another callback so that he can confirm our shipping address. Tomorrow, if I'm lucky, I'll have a new keyboard.
Of course, none of this involved the recognition that Dell's industrial design was for crap - nor am I sure that it'll fix my original problem of a loose keyboard. But hey, it beats (for them) working for a living, right?
This is a rant, and it goes nowhere. The only conclusion I'd give is: don't buy Dell. There are too many problems that stem directly from their build-to-order process and too much reliance on spot fixes to correct their quality assurance.
[1] In France, there are few if any toll-free numbers that exist anymore. Pretty much all calls are billed at local call rates or higher - which means that the bill adds up pretty quickly.
What is frustrating is that even services you've already paid for - like, for example, my service contract with Dell - still pass through these toll numbers. Add to that extremely long pre-recorded greetings ("blah blah blah ... Are you sure you've called the right number? blah blah blah ... Why not try our Web site?" "because I need to talk to a person, bitch"), interminable hold times (10 minutes to even talk to a technician) and you're easily looking at a five-euro phone call for every simple call.
Wednesday, 14 April 2004
Happiness Is a Warm Keyboard
I'm typing this on my brand new keyboard, courtesy of yesterday's fun-filled romp with Dell support.
The keys work much better than those on my old keyboard. No excessive rattling, a much more sturdy feel, the edges of my space bar are responsive. The best is that pressing any key in the vicinity of Backspace doesn't flex that entire region of my keyboard. That last one was a killer.
So, zero credit for Dell's support process; kudos to the fact that the fix exists. But then again, why shouldn't I expect a decent keyboard on a € 3,200 portable computer?
It's almost as good as the keyboard on my ThinkPad 390X (bought used, € 420).
(updated Friday, 16 April 2004)
As a special bonus, let me add one more thing that - in the way of all blindingly obvious things - totally slipped my mind.
When I got my replacement keyboard, I actually received three boxes. Hmm, I thought. That's when the sneaking suspicion started creeping up on me.
Sure enough: when I opened the boxes, I had one (1) keyboard and two (2) screws. Each screw had arrived in its own individual, foam-packed box. This is just too much fun. Let me repeat that, with varying emphasis: Each screw had arrived in its own individual, foam-packed box.
my replacement keyboard
Here we have my replacement keyboard and the box it came in. Oooh, ahhh. Nice, huh? Actually, I lied; it's really my old keyboard because I'd already installed the new one when I took this picture. Psych!
one of the famous screws and their packing materials
Now, this is the picture you came for: In the background, we have two boxes. Each one contained padding and - you guessed it - a screw. But not just any screw! No, these were screws in plastic baggies! The screw takes star placement in the foreground (the little black smudge near the front). I included one plastic baggie in the picture because I knew you cared.
Truly, this is comedic genius at its best. It was too expensive to just send someone to our office (despite our contract), but it was cheap enough to haggle on the phone for 50 minutes and (I can't help it, here comes the emphasis again) send me individually packed screws.
I'd say I'm speechless, but I'd be lying - unless you count "speechless with laughter."
Thursday, 15 April 2004
Free at Last, Free at Last, Thank the IRS Almighty!
Today, true to form, I finished my U.S. Federal tax declaration at almost the last minute possible. Despite being a bona-fide foreign resident (yes, yes, I am - even the IRS admits it), I still have to file with the U.S. government. Truly, this is a sign that I am loved if even potential crumbs from my income interest them.
Anyway, it's a relief to be done with it. Even though foreign residents get an automatic two-month extension to 15 June, I've owed money in the past - which means I have to pay no later than 15 April (ah ha, gotcha - those crumbs again). It turns out that I didn't owe money this year - in fact, I'm getting a couple of crumbs back. But by the point I knew for sure, I had already completed my paperwork and who really wants to hold onto that kind of stuff any longer than they have to? (That's a rhetorical question; I don't want to hear from those of you who do. In fact, just back away from me as slowly as possible, thanks.)
Passive income, foreign tax credits, foreign income exclusions, early withdrawal penalties - you name it, I think have some of it thrown into the mix for my 2003 returns. At this point, I seriously think I could offer decent tax advice to American expats (Um, I don't need to hear from those of you who want it. In fact... well, I suppose there are some people with tax separation anxiety who might like to meet you.)
Of course, in a perfect alignment of fiscal constellations, French business taxes were also due today. At least we have an accountant for those. But talk about separation anxiety: I had to write checks totaling more than I earned in the past year.
I'm beat, but now I can put it behind me and move on to... er, getting my finances in order for next year.
Party on...
Friday, 16 April 2004
Zero 7 != "Seven Times Nothing"
Besides griping about stupid little things and paying my taxes, I listen to music for fun. Actually, at times I've been known to equate good music to being as necessary as breathable air. And when you listen to good music, what better way than at a live show?
Zero 7 gives a decent live show. The group is just popular enough to have a decent following, but still unknown enough that their show was in a seatless venue (those familiar with Minneapolis, think "First Avenue"). This meant that we arrived well after door-opening to a full house, but still got a spot no more than five people back from the stage. It helps that the French (in my experience) handle crowded places better than Americans, so the concerts I've been to have rarely involved aggressive shoving or personal-space hogging.
Four female vocals - two lead, two backup - and one male lead in rotating combinations gave some pretty amazing variety for a one-hour show. Make that "an hour forty-five," including encores and dead moments. For you damn kids on my front lawn, pop queen Britney Spears' scripted-to-the-bone tour has a show time of only 90 minutes. Not that I'd compare her lip-synching to the smooth and/or powerful singing coming from these five. Just sayin', is all.
I've seen Zero 7 called "the UK's answer to Air," but I don't know if how much I'd agree. Sure, superficially they have a similar sound - and if you're into classifying things, I guess that's good enough. But there's much more reliance on live, undistorted vocals and the unpredictable - but ever-so-more natural - results that they give. It's definitely not like comparing apples to oranges, but I could imagine people liking one band and not the other.
Much like after Air's concert, I didn't leave this show feeling invigorated or refreshed - just content. But like a decent meal at an unpresumptuous restaurant, it was worth the price (less than € 20 a ticket!) and gave me another name to put on my "recommend to hear" list.
Zero 7 in concert at the Élysée Montmartre
Your average picture of the opening moments at a typical show. This one happens to be of Zero 7 at the Élysée Montmartre.
Zero 7 in concert at the Élysée Montmartre
Snapshot with Mr. Smooth Vocals. I'd wanted to get a shot of at least one of the female leads, but my phone had no memory left after recording a few songs.
Coming soon: crappy sounds that I recorded live
Monday, 19 April 2004
I Really Don't Want to Know What Kind of Vegetable It Came From
I sometimes wax poetic about the frozen dinners that I eat (or don't). Far from the stereotypical TV dinner that comes to mind, or the pizza 'n' fried chicken selection available in the U.S., these are pretty tasty and made from fresh, decent ingredients. Mmm-mmm goodness in single-serving portions? Sign me up.
Tonight, for example, was papillote d'aiguillettes de poulet à la forestière. En anglais, this is thin strips of chicken in a "woodsy style" (take that as you will). "Papillote" roughly translates to the rather unrefined word "package," with an undertone of "easy to make."
Easily prepared, tender grilled chicken, a bunch of different types of mushroom (tender and varied, none of which I - as a non-mushroom hunter - could translate with any justice). Add a nice garlicky sauce, and deenair ees serve-ed.
If it hadn't been for the accompanying broccoli, steeped in the same delicious garlic sauce, I'd probably have steamed a bowl of vegetables to complement the set. Like, for example, the petits pois, pois croquants et épinards that I had last night.
Yummy peas. Crunchy snap peas (or at least, crispy peas in pods - lest my translation be less than correct). Tender spinach in easy-to-spear balls. Tiny feathers.
Um, waitaminnit - "tiny feathers"? Well, yes. "Feather," to be exact, since there was only one. Still, one (1) is one more (+1) than zero (0) - which is precisely the number of tiny feathers that I'd typically expect in my bowl of steamed vegetables.
Be they cute or not, I'd really prefer a world that has fewer tiny feathers steeped in vegetable juice. Being the man of the people that I am, my election platform would be "A chicken in every pot, not in steamed vegetables."
Sadly, some apocryphal kid in Africa went hungry last night as the last couple of mouthfuls of my veggies slid into the trash, jauntily wearing a feather in their cap.