5 posts tagged “parents”

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Tech Support with Mom

My mother had computer issues last night-today. She calls me early this morning, asking about their "slow computer." We determined she had disc errors... so I told her to try to fix it from the UNIX command line; when that didn't work, she ran the hardware CD.

She later admits she doesn't have a good surge protector, and the power goes out often with summer storms. Great.

So, I leave her be... and call her later when I'm at the grocery. "Mom, what all goes into gazpacho? I'm making it."

She was not in a good mood.

"I dont know. Tomatoes, I think."

"Yeah, professor, I have those... onion, garlic... a chile pepper... what else? I can't put in sherry..."

"I don't know John. Listen, I ran the hardware test and it said it was the software."

"No it didn't," I returned.

"Yes, it did."

"No, it didn't. It never says "it was the software," so what did it really say?"

There was a pause as I was getting my prosciutto.

"It said the hardware was fine," she added.

"Aha, so it wasn't the "software" it just said the hardware was okay..."

"Yes."

"Ok... well, re-install OS X again, and wipe the drive clean; it may help if the drive wasn't physically damaged."

"I have to wait. We have another storm now."

"Did you unplug the computer?"

"No."

I now rolled my eyes.

These things would be so much easier to fix if she lived near-by.

The other exchange we had was over "AppleCare," their extended warranty program. I never got it on a desktop, but I did this last time around, as my G5 tower has a liquid cooled processor core.

I suggested my parents get it. You have a year after you buy the machine to buy the extra coverage.

"Did you buy the AppleCare?"

"No."

"Why not? I told you to."

"We didn't buy it, OKAY."

Then I rubbed it in. "Well, if you have to get the drive replaced, you're going to have to drive down to the mall and carry it in."

"WE can't do that. I don't want your dad to strain himself."

"So, if you had the AppleCare, they overnight you a box; you put the computer in, and it goes to them... and in 2 days, you get a working computer."

"How much does that cost?"

"Nothing; it's part of the AppleCare service."

"Why don't we have that?"

"You're cheap. I gotta go, Mom..."

3 comments Tags: support, apple, parents, macintosh

Thanksgiving in March

My mother is likely the only one making Thanksgiving dinner in March. That's right, upon calling her today, I found out she was putting the finishing touches on a turkey dinner. Turkey by itself isn't that uncouth, but when she told me what the other items were she reported: "Oh, you know, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and some cranberry sauce."

I thought outloud "Are you off your rocker mom? It's March!"

Surprisingly, she answered. I must have said that aloud, after all.

"No, but your dad loves turkey." I had to ask: "Are you cooking a whole turkey, too?" She said, "No, just the breast."

Now, you first have to realize my mom cooks the HELL out of meat. She and the oven are not best friends. She takes select cuts of meats, loads them into the oven, only to turn the heat on extra-high, and leave things to roast, for extra-long. So, you know, turkey has little fat. It's going to be as dry dry gets. She told me she only bought the breast, because "we don't have to waste the rest." It will all be wasted, they'll need steak knives to cut through that leather that once made up the breast of a turkey bird.

So, that's it... parents ate tonight in days long gone, in Thanksgiving. I bet she even got out a table cloth.

What might you make with turkey? Certainly there are better ways to eat this domestic American bird?

Post a comment Tags: parents, turkey

Photo Gifts

My mom pulled a classic gift gag this year, by buying us picture frames filled with home-printed photos. Except, her frugality made the entire enterprise an insult. Let me explain.


First, she must have picked up these picture frames in bulk someplace. They are the roughest (read: splinters in my hands) Mexican-made frames I ever did see. And what did she put inside?


For me, she includes a (bad) photo of the three of us from our summer vacation. "That was the only photo with just you, your dad, and I." "Yeah, mom," I thought to myself, "the whole point was to meet your extended family there... just the three of us together seems like you're wishing we were still separate."


Whatever.


For X, she printed a photo of him and his parents. For some reason, they looked like American Indians. What was wrong? Upon further inspection, everything was dark, and especially, red. In my photo, my mother's white blouse was pink. There was something weird going on in these home-printed photos.


Upon close scrutiny, we noticed that the ink was pooled-up for some colors (like black), and splochy and shiny/dull in others. My assessment is that the printer she has (HP) and the paper (Kodak) were not compatible. She needed to match the better paper with her printer. But, she gifted us these lackluster photos that I took, printed to laughable quality.


One rule of thumb about gifting: don't let people notice the bad quality.


So, with splinters in hand, and determination in my mind, we re-printed photos to go into the frames. Mind you, we didn't use all the same photos. X demanded the same one, so I complied, since I did feel it was a good photo. But for mine, I instead selected one of him and me, which when completed, looked like "real" photos using my Canon photo printer.


When I took out the one glass, I realized it was filthy. Yes, my mother neglected to wash-off the spotted and grimy glass. Who knows how it got so nasty. Now, our finished products look good, despite the cheap frames. But this little gift now will cost me another $22, to replace the ink cartridges spent in re-printing the gifted photos.

Post a comment Tags: christmas, gifts, parents, holidays

Let's Go to Church

This is the first, in what may be several tales dedicated to my parents' visit to town for Christmas. 


And so, we start with Christmas Eve, not the first opportunity for sharing what transpired, but, as will find out, a memorable one, despite what we might hope to remember years from now.

My parents are not religious in that sense of the word that would prescribe frequent visits to church, or signing letters with Biblical verses. I am guessing my parents, put together, couldn't name but 6 books of the Bible. My mother, who now wears crosses around her neck, used to be Presbyterian. Since she left my home town, and moved to Florida, however, she hasn't seen the inside of a church. My dad, who for some reason buys my mother all of these cross-necklaces, is Catholic, and attends church once a year, if not less frequently.

And so, I announced on the eve of Christmas, at the advice of my pagan, nee communist, or perhaps half-Agnostic, half-athiest Chinese partner, to go to church. "Let's go to a local church." "Can we go Presbyterian?" "Hey, let's go someplace close, around here... what do you suggest?"

No, no, no. I chose the downtown Episcopal church. For one, I have been to many concerts there and it's a nice church. For two, I figure the Anglicans are half protestant and half Catholic, so my parents should find a happy medium there. Going downtown to church is an event. But not one that my father would warm up to anytime in getting there.

He was mad to start, as we had to leave shortly after dinner. The service began at 10 PM. It was 9:26 and we pulled out of the driveway. "Where are we going?" my mom asked us. "To church," I replied, not saying a word that it would take 35 minutes to get there.

When I later pulled onto the highway, my dad began to voice concern. "J--I think we passed like 4 churches to get to the highway... where are we going?"

"Downtown."

"Where? Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you? Why are we going all the way downtown for church?"

I ignored him, and searched for holiday carols on the radio.

Next, my mom chimed in. "J-we'd be happy enough going to a service close to home... aren't there any Presbyterian churches near home?" "Yes," I replied, "but we're going to the Episcopal church... sit tight."

The second reason I chose the downtown church was so my parents could see the "grand illumination" that takes place, where all the buildings are lit up for the holidays.

When we got to the city, my dad was cursing some more. "Do you see the lights?" X asked my dad. "The only thing I see down here is black people."

"Dad!" I shouted, protesting his seemingly racist remark.

"It's true, look left, look right, all that's down in this city are blacks."

As I turned a corner, he added, "I bet we're the only caucasians in the church tonight... "

When we pulled into the garage for the church, he was mad. "I hope we don't get mugged down here, tonight... god damn, this is the most lousy place to have a church."

My dad doesn't like being out of control, to have others dictate his location or whereabouts. I enjoy the challenge of introducing this slight discomfort, but even tonight, it was too rich to tolerate. We got into an elevator, and rose up into the church. "This place is empty..." he said.

We were early, and the carol singing started soon. As we entered the sanctuary, there were 4-5 African American families in the church already. I had hoped some caucasian people would enter, to prove my father wrong.

The service was something neither of my parents expected. My dad soon warmed up to things, as my mother grew weary, to learn it would be a 2-hour Christmas Eve service. My father went for communion. My mother kept looking at the 6 pages of the bulletin rolling her eyes. While complaints about the time followed into the ride home by car, I think both of my parents were better off for going downtown, experiencing something new, and learning that downtown wasn't all "black" and "robbers." 

Christmas would be the next morning, a day where more tales would be born from their visit.

Post a comment Tags: christmas, parents, holidays, church

The Christmas Offer

There are republicans and democrats. There are also closet conservatives and liberals, too. My mother, sadly, is a conservative. And it makes me sick.


I'm not fan of politicians, none is perfect. But there are issues in my life--serious issues--that support the democratic ticket. I'm not in their camp for everything, but for most stuff, yes, I see the the same as the Clintons and the Deans. And the fact that my mother can stand up for some republicans makes me ill. She embarassed me the other day, talking on the phone with my boss, lamenting she'd have to waste a vote in Florida on Foley.

He looked at me as if "Did I hear her correctly?"

Yet, they are my parents, and I'd like to care. But they're making it tough.

I invited them here for Christmas. But they refuse. They have a difficult time, I think, dealing with my current personal relationship. Not that it's new, we're going on 9 years and consider ourselves married. So we offer to send them here, via plane, and pay for the tickets.

This is what I want to write back, now, to my dad:

> Ok, thanks for letting me know. But I rescind the offer. Hope the golf trip pans out for you and mom.

He wrote me that he might be going on a golfing trip with my mom with some neighbors for new year's. Probably can't come.

Let me consider this again. "Spend the holiday with your only son, or golf with some 80-year old neighbors?" Hmm.

5 comments Tags: parents, holidays, politics